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icharchivist · 6 years

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Okay this start to seriously annoy me (as in angering me, not “making me spiral down out of controle” (edit; okay maybe a little but hi that’s me from the future and i’m doing fine, i’m just annoyed but no breakdown there, not really)) so bear with me, but also, tw: s/uicidal & selfh/arm mention and stuff like that. I’m super annoyed at my mom. (also generally it’s in general for all my #ichapersonal posts but pls d/on’t r/eblog especially not this one bc i’m just. so. damn annoyed.)

Also it’s really just ranting because i really need to let it out this is seriously weighing at this point I just need to rant it out;

(also it’s a long post so if you’re on mobile and the readmore didn’t work and you want to avoid it go quickly blacklist either my tag or #longpostforts, it’ll hide the post for your dash)

My mom has this tendencies to always bitch about “kids who says “I’ve never asked to be born””. She had been bitching about it for as long as I can remember bc if i recall, my elder sister (yknow the one who ended up running away from home, never to be seen again for what, 17 years now (17 years?? holy fuck how time flies)(also i’m starting to really feel like she made the right decision at this point)) actually told her that at some point while they fought.

bc my mom believes children should be grateful of life given, that “life is a gift”.

So regularly she goes on rants about how “kids who says “they never wanted to be born” are so ungrateful, life is a gift, you should be grateful to your parents, to me” (she singles herself out everytime) “for how much time and effort we take to raise you, we give you a chance in this world how can you be ungrateful and say you never wanted it”, and stuff like that.

You’d think that after having me spelling her out that i’ve been s/uicidal since i’m 13 she would change her fucking reasoning but nooooo

This is so unnerving. I’ve heard all my life that kids thinking birth is a curse or w/e are ungrateful toward their parents but is she seriously the fuck hearing herself??? It’s not about the fucking parents, if a child tells you that, be concerned about what it means of their suffering, not about what it means for the parents, you apathic selfish person.

My whole life had been a struggle i would have gladly spared myself with thank you very much.”life is a gift” so were the multiple trials I had to manage as a teenager because both of my parents were unable to manage their fucking divorce? I’m sorry what about my life is a gift to me? As far as I know I’ve been the emotional backbone of this freaking family for years and had been there for all of my mother’s breakdowns, but I’ve never had that back. I was the gift to at least try to soften the blows, but it wasn’t a gift for me that’s for sure. Life sure wasn’t a gift when I first told my mom i was s/uicidal and had s/elf harmed and that the only thing she told me was “look I have more important things to deal with okay” (see, the kind of petty things i still remember and I’ve yet to have a proper apology about because “nooo but Chloé I wasn’t doing okay you can understand” hA. Jokes on you I had YOUR CONCERNS, MY FATHER’s and MY OWN and back then I was getting out of an ab/usive relationship with my ex and the fact i just lost most of my friends at once while i was trying to manage how the fuck I could at least ease the issues between my parents and with my ex’s jealousy & aftermath, also my own mom’s h.omophobia when i was trying to bring up that aspect was sure helpful, also freaking important exams coming, and also remember it was when you completely fucked up your relationship with my other sister that I also had to manage, “i wasn’t doing okay” neither did i but i’ve never shut you down that I know of.)

Or at least it wasn’t for me, since then my mom ran to tell my dad to say “see our daughter is s/uicidal because of you!” (no??? I didn’t say that??? even if it was true I didn’t??) and since then had my dad using it against me on official paper (you never know true love until your dad try to tell a judge that “because of the de/ression given by your mom” you were “untrustworthy” and that therefore he shouldn’t give you any money and that you learn that upon reading the judgement’s request) and making s.uicide jokes in front of me about me to people i don’t know (which!! he did!! right before I cut ties with him! in front of clients of him!! seriously why do i have those fucking parents.) But hey i’m sure it was a good “gift” for my mom to have something to guilttrip my dad with for ONE trial which turned against her considering how he used it. WHAT A GIFT.

GUH this is something I hate, I have a lot of wounds like that that I don’t even care about anymore (or at least don’t think about because no one can change the past and it’s something to live with) and our relationship has evolved past this point, but then she says this kind of things and all that bitterness comes back full blown.

We’ve discussed about it. I told her. I had to hammer it down multiple times (HA. And even there how much of those conversations ended up being “it’s because of your father/your abandon issues about your sister? Because me too you know, this is hard for me too here’s how it affects me and let’s not talk about your self destructive tendencies” wow thanks mom) How can she so carelessly throw this kind of things. We’ve discussed about it more than once for fuck’s sake. And she throws it in front of my step dad, the one person we can’t talk about mental health with because the guy always have a mean comment to make about it and doesn’t believe in d/epression this family is a fucking joke.

“Kids saying “i’ve never asked to be born” are ungrateful, life is a gift that i gave you” fuuuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

I don’t even know why she said that out loud, I was just walking from the living to my room and I have no idea of the context, but I legit just snapped at her telling her to fucking stop with that and she tried to defend myself like “do you know how hurtful it is to hear from a kid that they never asked to be born” you don’t say, do you know how hurtful it is to hear from your own parents that your self destructive tendencies due to how much said parents put you through are “not important”?

Ya know what’s even funnier -because my parents told me about that- Apparently they wanted me so much when I wasn’t born yet that they almost tried to do a fertility boost while i was already a featus and it would have killed the featus to do it and it’s just last minute that they realized “wait there’s already a baby inside” - good for my parents, lost my chance it seems. (also fun fact since I was born strangled by the cordon thingy, it’s like i was too stubborn to die what a moron @ me). AND, WHAT MY PARENTS DECIDED TO TELL ME, freaking beautiful really, is that when they did the echography to see what my birthgender was, my father was so dissappointed over hearing I was a girl (and that therefore i’ll be the 3rd girl of the family) that he left my mom who was pregnant with me at the hospital. He actually took the car and drove back home, home that was 30 mins away from the hospital in car, and he left my mom alone at the hospital. She had to call her best friend to bring her back home. My father blamed my mom because ofc he has the genetic understanding of Henry VIII.

as a result i spent my entiere childhood feeling like i wasn’t wanted by my dad bc he told me all my life he would rather have had a boy and always made it feel like i wasn’t good enough, and my mom always priviligized my sisters (which may be a result of me being the younger one of the family, but then when I was 7 I had my elder sister (who was a/utistic so my mom was always overbearing with her before she left) running away from home and my other sister who right afterward almost died due to medical complication, having my mom overprotecting her especially that close to the departure of my other sister and she kept being overprotective afterward. That may have played a part. And i mean when we come to have convos where my mom ignores me completely unless i mention my sisters? And the fact she willingly admit that she “doesn’t want to force herself to care about things she doesn’t care about” while mentioning that she has more in common with my sister than I? Ya that doesn’t help the feeling. But ya know it’s just ~the youngest sibling feeling~ lmao) - Also my mom who l o ves to remind me that apparently I was an overdynamic child who was a nightmare to take care of because I was hyperactive, so she was always tired and loves to remind that it was hard for her to handle me, that sure didn’t play at all in making me feel unwanted. Especially when she’s unable to say anything about me that doesn’t come from the time i was “an unbearable hyperactive child who completely stopped her from wanting any more children” because of course this is the kind of things you say to a child and you make good care that you only ever talk about that and not anything else about said child even if the latest actual anecdote (that isn’t “actually blowing off because this family is hell” she never mentions those lmao) dates back from when said child was 9.

(also it adds to the whole “with all the time we took to raise you” what i was taught by my parents is that i was unadequate and would never be enough, thanks - all my morals i got them in fictions and online all i’ve learnt from my parents was a caucionary tale of what I should never become. Which is also something that annoys me when, the rare times my mom says she’s proud of me, she always adds “i’m so proud to have educated you this way” and it’s always, always on subject that i’ve learnt online or in fiction and regularly things I got mad at my mom for not knowing so ye fuck that. It’s too easy to just take other’s people achievement as your own and refuse to listen when they tell you to stop.)

lmao did i ever mention too, my previous therapist and i discussed a lot about my d/epression and while i personally pinpoint my 13yo as my breaking undeniable point (because when you are hurting yourself because the physical pain makes you forget the emotional pain, this is time to stop prentending nothing bad is happening), my therapist said i had symptoms already when I was 7yo but i was too young to recognize them and since it’s the year the brain usually have a huge development, i developped all the unhealthy coping mechanism - but she also mentioned that the fact my father went to abandon my mom at the hospital because of me, was probably at least a bad vibe that carried on all my life.

So ya!!! beautiful!!! I spent my whole life from the womb to feel unwanted, to the point i completely shut down and thrived upon people appreciating me, which put me as a target for being b/ullied so much i just ended up not get too emotionally invested in anyone and emotionally distant in general after too much fuck up from my part by trying to be loved, and which was so determined to please all my life that I tried to fix everyone’s miserable lives around me until my mental health gave up completely.

(and like don’t get me wrong - my parents made me feel unwanted all my life, i was b/ullied up until high school, i lost all the friends I had before high school because of the a/busive relationship i ended up winding up into, and it fucked me over. It truly did. But I don’t think i’m “unloveable” I think just that it doesn’t matter to try. My high school friends, who are the people i consider my best friends today, are the most precious thing that happened to me and I will never second guess how they care for me. I have wonderful friends all around the world, I don’t feel “unloveable”. But i do feel like not wanting to try. If people leave, I won’t care because eh that happens. Even if i know my friends are here for me, and that I will always want to be there for them and support them, I can’t bring myself to go to them unprompted when i feel bad - even if i know they don’t consider me a burden I was taught all my life my emotions were such anyway. Things that are hard to unlearn. But there’s no “no one loves me” or ignoring completely my qualities there. I consider it a miracle i’m this kind while i’m this bitter, that I care so much about things even if i know it’s coping mechanism, but that i can still get this enthusiast about things sometimes - and honestly when I look back i recognize that i’m strong, even if i don’t consider myself strong enough considering how everything still goes wrong and I can’t go back on my feet no matter what, so much my own physical health is sending me SOS. But i’m not blind to the point of ignoring that it takes strength to get this far- i’m just so, so tired of having to be strong all the time and knowing if i let weakness in for one moment all hell breaks loose for me.)

“Life is a gift it’s ungrateful to tell a parent you never wanted to be born” hi, i never asked to be born, you never made me feel like i had any reason to want to be alive except for what I could bring you and you only, i’ve never thought i’d live past 18 and was s/uicidal at a young age because i felt unwanted and felt like carrying everyone’s burden. Y’know, things we talked about multiple times.

“ye but your elder sister made it associate to a trauma” well that’s a trauma for me as well thank you very much.

See, this is what actually sickens me with my parents. This sort of thin veiled sentences that somehow hit right in the nest of everything that once went wrong in my fucking life. This sort of little sentences that are even worse to me than actual insults because it disregard again everything we talked about. If i needed more proof (and i didn’t) that my parents never listen to me or care for my feelings outside of what it can bring them, this is a wonderful exemple.

I’m angry, i’m done, this family is a fucking mess, I’m tired. bye.

#sorry i got extremely angry at my family #ignoreignorebye #ichapersonal #longpostforts

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lincolnbrendt · 7 years

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self para || mad world

Day 1:

“It’s only the first day, Linc, it’s totally normal for her to stay out.” Daisy’s voice was always so well controlled that he didn’t know if she believed the words she was saying. She probably didn’t, he told himself. “You know she’s been through a lot. She just needs a break.”

Lincoln nodded silently as he watched the redheads fingers move nimbly through Mallory’s blonde hair, twirling them into two plaits. He must have zoned out when they’d cleaned the blood out of it. That made it easier for him to breathe every time he looked at her.

Daisy left, not trying to say anything further to Lincoln. A gesture he appreciated because he didn’t know if he remembered how to speak anymore. Lucy came out from behind the curtain as Adam’s mother’s voice was heard in the distance. His sister might have said something to him, but he couldn’t tell. The woman he’d come to know as Nicole held out a black coffee from the machine for Lincoln.

“You seem to need it,” she spoke in a gentle voice, smiling at Lucy who thanked her on Lincoln’s behalf. Lincoln wondered wryly how much the woman would smile if she knew she was in the same room as her future grandchild with absolutely no clue. “And Ms. Brendt, dear, I do hope you and your baby are doing well. I can’t imagine what you went through.”

If he’d had any energy, he would have nearly scoffed.

The woman and her husband disappeared to talk to their son and his jaw tightened as he heard Adam’s voice. It was a selfish thought of him to have, but he thought he might have swapped Mallory’s place with his in a heartbeat. After the idea passed his mind he began tugging at his own hair, hating himself for being so selfish but he couldn’t help it he couldn’t help it he didn’t mean to think that.

“Hey, Lincoln, hey come on stop, hey stop doing that.” It was Lucy’s voice that broke through the waves of guilt he felt, bringing him back to reality.

“No no no no I thought something bad I thought a bad thing.”

“What bad thing Lincoln? Lincoln what bad thing?”

And just like that, he snapped out of it, making himself take a deep breath.

“Never mind. I just… I d-do-d-don’t r-r-rem-member.” A lie, but one that was for the best. The concern on Lucy’s face became more prevalent than before, and Lincoln forced a smile. “I-I’m go-g-gonna go get s-some foo-f-food. I’ll be back soon.”

Day 3:

It had been far too long since Lincoln had shaved or showered or done anything to take care of himself. He couldn’t do anything but sit there, wasting away in the chair as he watched the line on Mallory’s heart monitor go up and down. Empty coffee cups sat on the desk behind him, broken poems scribbled on the side as he’d always done for Mallory before.

It was only day 3.

People were still telling him to hold onto hope. That this was nothing out of the ordinary.

He wondered if they understood that the only reason he survived the weeks without her before was by knowing she was a phone call away and knowing that once he was brave enough to face her and his mistake they would be fine.

He wondered if they understood that the labyrinth his mind had become over the years was unnavigable without the light she provided with her heartbeat.

He wondered if they understood that every day she stayed asleep, his sanity fled deeper and deeper into that labyrinth.

Day 5:

Sleep was no longer a concept Lincoln really remembered. He was downing a large coffee at least four times a day and even if he hadn’t been chugging so much espresso his mind wouldn’t have shut off long enough to allow him a rest more than the occasional hour long naps when he found himself bogged down by a vivid nightmare over and over again. Mallory, bloody and dead in his arms.

His knees were tucked up against his chest as he sat near her bed now. He was trying to read aloud from the book of his poetry he’d roughly constructed but the words and letters were floating around on the page as he tried.

In the distance - or perhaps right next to him he no longer cared enough to tell - he heard a nurse discussing his own health with someone who sounded like Logan. Then again it could have been Lucy or Daisy or anyone who wasn’t Mallory because Mallory couldn’t speak.

“We’re concerned that his lack of sleep combined with his autism and OCD could lead to… some sort of mental episode. What we can do is provide him with some sleeping medicine if you would authorize that, to just get him to rest. If he continues this way I… just don’t know.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sign off on it, but good luck selling him on it.”

Lincoln did not go down without a fight.

“Wake me up if she does,” he said weakly as his eyes fought off the darkness that encompassed him, only having been swayed after being told he could end up hurting himself or someone else if he kept on acting like this.

Day 6:

When he woke up he was in a stranger’s room, it was empty, dark and quiet. Looking down at his arm in the dimly lit room he saw wires and tubes connected to it and couldn’t contain the gag working its way up his throat.

“N-Nu-Nurse! Nurse!” He began yelling and not long after, a short man dressed in scrubs entered the room.

“Mr. Brendt, how are you fee-“

“Unho-Unhook m-me from th-this machi-m-machine,” Lincoln spoke impatiently.

“Oh I’ll have to make sure you’re well enough to-“

“If y-you don’t I w-will,” he threatened, holding his hand over the tubes which caused the nurse to come over quickly and begin unhooking him, bandaging the small patch where his incision was. With shaky legs, he stood up and left the room. He sighed in relief realizing he was just across the hall from Mallory, walking the short distance with legs that seemed to forget how to move.

Regardless, he found his seat left exactly where it had been when he left, and his coffee cups untouched in their stacks of five because five was a good number five made good things happen. Tapping his finger against his knee repeatedly he counted them out.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

Day 9:

Lincoln was laying in a bed, prepped for surgery after having kissed all of his sisters on the top of the head and waving a goodbye before he walked into the prep room.

“You’ll have to lay down for at least two days. And then for about four weeks, maybe six, you’ll need to take all physical activity to a minimum, no lifting more than 10 to 15 pounds, we don’t suggest intercourse during the recovery time, all around you’ll have to be careful standing long periods of time and take care of yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Abs-Absolutely.”

“I know there aren’t a lot of other options but I don’t want you to do this and regr-“

“Just take me back.”

“There’s a chance we may still lose h-“

“TAKE ME BACK!” Lincoln shouted. He was uninterested in hearing anyone talk about possibly losing Mallory.

“Okay…” The doctor still sounded hesitant, but the nurse who was pushing his bed had been there when Mallory’s kidneys began to fail. So had Lincoln. Within hours and a few tests that showed he was, remarkably, a match, the boy was in a hospital bed being rolled into surgery.

As he was pushed into the sterile, cold procedure room, he rolled his head to the side to see Mallory’s pretty blonde hair.

“Abou-out t-time I paid you back f-for saving me,” he whispered before they turned his head back upwards and placed a mask over his face.

“Okay dear, just count back from 10,” said a nice woman just behind his head.

He didn’t even make it to 8.

Day 11:

Lincoln could walk again, but instead he sat next to Mallory’s bed right where he always did. He thought he remembered Jean and Eddie thanking him over and over for what he did. He also thought it was silly for anyone to think he wouldn’t have given up both of his lungs and heart and liver and everything he had to give if it meant she would be brought back into the world.

He didn’t remember what being a person felt like anymore. He didn’t remember any sensations other than fear and panic and anger and exhaustion. He didn’t remember having any intentions other than to keep fighting while the love of his life did the same.

His sleep came in waves that day, brought on by the pain meds he still took every few hours. Between the periods of darkness when his mind finally escaped reality, Lincoln wrote poems upon poems upon poems. Desperate for the right words that might bring her back.

“Y-You just keep… k-ke-keep r-resting, L-Lov-Love. B-But pl-please come b-bac-back… I-I-I n-nee-need you…”

Sleep took him away again, unwanted but still appreciated, and in his dreams that night there was nothing. Emptiness, surrounded by nothing but pitch black. It was a welcome escape from the fear and sadness that had wracked his body every waking minute.

Day 12:

A man came in holding a bible.

Lincoln to the side, slightly numb to the whole experience but he was aware of what was happening. They were blessing Mallory, so if she did die, she would go to heaven. It caused his stomach to lurch, the idea that people were making preparations in the case of her death.

Lincoln had arrangements of his own, but he didn’t want to share those plans with anyone else.

“F-Father?” Lincoln has found himself following the man out of the room, limping slightly. “C-Can I as-ask you s-someth-something?”

The man turned around and faced Lincoln with a smile.

“Of course, how can I help you?”

“W-Well I-I um… so-s-so I’m n-not a v-ver-very re-r-relig-ligious p-perso-person, I don’t kn-know how it w-work-works ex-exactly but cou-c-could you t-tell G-Go-G-God s-someth-something for m-me?”

The man’s expression was patient as he nodded.

”What is it, Son?”

”I-I w-wan-wanted… I’ve w-wanted a f-fam-famil-mily my… who-whole l-life… b-but if…if-if Mal-M-Mallory c-c-co-comes-s b-back I will gi-g-give up my dr-drea-dream. He’ll n-nev-never h-hear me wi-w-wish for my own s-son or dau-d-daughter again. C-Coul-d y-you te-t-ell h-him that?”

The man’s face went from patient to devastated as Lincoln finished speaking.

”Oh, Dear boy, you poor thing…”

”I-I don’t want-t-t y-your pit-ty… Pl-Plea-ease j-just tell h-him?”

The man nodded, reaching out his hands to take Lincoln’s. Lincoln barely enjoyed physical contact from a stranger under normal circumstances and these circumstances were far from normal. So he flinched away, curling his hands into his chest.

“I’ll tell him,” the man said, taking his own hands back.

With a satisfied nod, Lincoln disappeared to return to Mallory’s bedside.

Day 14:

Lincoln had to fight for the first time to keep Mallory on for just a couple more days. At that point, the only thing keeping her alive was the machine she was relying on for a heartbeat.

“P-Pl-Please-Please I-I’ll p-p-pa-pay f-fo-f-for-r it plea-p-p-p-pl-please ju-j-j-jus-j-just a c-cou-c-c-couple m-mo-m-more d-da-d-days!”

His frantic voice swayed Mallory’s grandparents, agreeing to just a couple more days. Lincoln knew that in a couple more days if Mallory wasn’t awake he’d fight again and again until he had no fight left in him. Lincoln was stitching together the many loose pages on which he’d written countless poems during his time there.

He figured that when she woke up she’d want to read them. It was a rare day for Lincoln, meaning it was one in which he was actually aware of the world beyond the four walls that boxed him into that room or beyond the line of vision between he and Mallory.

Meaning when Mason Safaatauemana walked in with a pitiful look on his face, Lincoln had already lost patience for the boy who had found such disgusting delight in charming Mallory into a date ages ago.

“Hey, man,” he started as he took a few steps towards Lincoln who, had he had even a drop less of self control in his body, may have growled at him. “I just wanted to swing by and say I was sorry, you know. For everything.”

“L-Li-L-Like?”

“Like... I wish I’d been able to do something to save her, or to stop it all, you know? I’m just-“

Rage bubbled in Lincoln’s head, boiling so loudly he was deaf to any other words Mason was saying.

“A-Are you ki-k-Kidd-kidding?!”

“What-“

“Are you KIDDING?!” Lincoln stood up now, putting a hand over his side with a groan. “You’re going to take this moment right here, this moment in which the love of my life is laying in bed because a deranged madman shot her and you’re going to turn it into a situation in which you could have been the hero of the cards had fallen right?!”

“I’m sorry I-“

“You don’t get to be the hero in everyone’s story, Mason!! If anyone could have saved her it would have been ME!! There was nothing YOU of all people could do!”

The sleepless nights that made days blend together like wet paint left him exhausted and had caught up to him, making this seem catastrophic.

“I mean you, you just... you just run into people’s life and expect them to bend into whatever they need to be for you to fit with them. You never change to fit anyone! I changed to be your friend, to live with you, to get your stupid approval I change for EVERYONE I didn’t have to change for Mallory and you’re going to come in here saying you wish you’d been able to save her?!?”

Lincoln shoved Mason’s shoulders, all of the anger he’d ever felt towards the redhead coming out as he continued shouting.

“I mean seriously?! You ask her on a date just to try to fuck her and then you keep treating her and I like shit like we’re lesser than you because she didn’t want to fuck you and because I stutter and wasn’t one of your original friends!” Lincoln shoved him again and this time Mason held him back, keeping his hand on his shoulders to stop Lincoln from getting any closer. This only made Lincoln feel attacked and he swung, connecting his fist with Mason’s face.

“Lincoln, Lincoln stop,” Mason pleaded, trying to keep him away while also trying to calm him down. “You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to start this right now.”

“Stop telling me what I want to do! Nobody but me knows what I want to do!!!”

By then Mason had gotten them out into the hallway, away from the medical equipment and away from Mallory.

“I know what I want to do! You don’t and Lucy doesn’t and the nurses don’t! I don’t want to be here without Mallory don’t tell me what I want!”

Another swing, another fist slamming into Mason’s face. The redhead clenched his jaw, clinging onto reality so he wouldn’t blackout.

“Lincoln please, please I don’t want to blackout I could hurt you I could kill you!”

At the thought of Mason killing him, Lincoln punched him again, harder than before and this time in the gut.

“Then kill me! KILL ME!!!” Lincoln was screaming now, his voice shrill and drawing the attention of the other patients and some of the nurses. “Please, Mason if I’m your friend at all - if I’ve ever been your friend then kill me I don’t want to live without her I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t be me without her I would rather DIE!”

Another punch, this time in the side and Mason finally shoved him away, backwards and into the arms of Hunter, who sighed and lined a syringe up against Lincoln’s neck.

“Somebody please just kill me I don’t want to live without her please Mason, please please just do it promise me you’ll do it!” Even as he was stuck in the neck with medicine meant to sedate him, it took a few moments to work its way through his large body. “Mason I thought you were my friend please I just wanted you to kill me!” His words were sobs as his legs grew weak and Hunter enlisted Mason’s help in carrying him back into Mallory’s room.

Adam was long gone by then, and they lifted him into the bed right next to Mallory.

“Please,” his voice was a whimper as his eyes fought to remain open. “Someone just kill me...”

Day 15 - Evening:

Lincoln’s sanity was slipping again. After the breakdown the night before, it seemed to fall between his fingers like sand in a widespread hand. Slipping quickly, falling back towards the ground with nothing but gravity to stop it. He was sat in his chair when a nurse he didn’t recognize entered the room. She must have been new. That was okay, he told himself, Daisy wouldn’t let anyone but the best near his girl. He knew that much was true.

Still, as she acknowledged his presence with a nod and wave before going about refilling Mallory’s IV, Lincoln couldn’t do anything but rock back and forth in his still chair. His arms hugging his own chest like that could keep him together as he rocked.

“C-C-C’m-C’mon M-Ma-M-Mal-Mal... y-y-you don’t ha-h-have m-much time-ti-time l-lef-l-left... You nee-n-need to c-come ba-b-back to me...” He murmured over and over again as he stared at Mallory. The nurse looked at him with sadness in her eyes.

“You been waiting a while for her?,” she asked kindly. Lincoln didn’t respond. “Well you know, Darling, she can feel your stress. You can’t put too much pressure on her.”

It was as if someone had pressed the pause button on Lincoln’s life as the nurse spoke. He stopped rocking, stopped muttering things below his breath, stopped existing (at least it felt as if he had). He sat there unmoving as the nurse finished up. She bid him a good night that fell on deaf ears, as he held himself together desperately with his long arms.

As soon as he heard the door shut with a click, Lincoln began pounding his fist against his head, punching himself in the forehead repeatedly until the pain became a dull reminder of how much he had fucked up. By the time a bruise had started blossoming on Lincoln’s face, he was screaming. No words came out exactly, he was screaming in fury and anger and hatred, angry at himself, furious at himself, hating himself.

His screams reached frantic levels, the top of his lungs as he now began using both fists against himself.

“It’s my fault it’s my fault it’s my fault!!!” He screamed, even as he heard the door be thrown open and Harley stood there with sadness in her eyes. “IT’S MY FAULT TOO MUCH PRESSURE TOO MUCH PRESSURE IT’S MY FAULT SHES GOING TO DIE TOO MUCH PRESSURE!”

Blood began trickling out of his forehead now and Harley frantically begged Declan to come pull him away and make him stop.

“OH MY GOD I KILLED HER ITS MY FAULT TOO MUCH PRESSURE TOO MUCH PRESSURE ITS MY FAULT!!!!”

He was screaming so loudly now that his voice cracked and Declan entered the room, wrapping his large arms around Lincoln’s and prying his hands away from his head.

“IT’S MY FAULT MY FAULT MY FAULT!!!!!!!” He was sobbing through his shouts now as Declan pulled him out of the room and Lincoln spotted the nurse who had said that. “SHE SAID IT WAS MY FAULT SHE SAID THERES TOO MUCH PRESSURE I JUST WANTED HER TO KNOW I BELIEVED IN HER BUT ITS MY FAULT ITS MY FAULT SHE WON’T WAKE UP AND ITS ALL MY FAULT!”

The nurse looked devastated as blood continued spilling down Lincoln’s face. She couldn’t have known such a reaction would come out of such a mild mannered man.

“I’m sorry I-“ She started.

“MY FAULT MY FAULT MY FAULT!!!!!”

Eventually, Declan had wrestled him far enough away and locked him into a position which only exhausted Lincoln’s body if he tried to continue fighting. Instead of thrashing around anymore he became limp in the much bigger man’s arms and sobbed.

“I just wanted her to know I believed she would come back she’s running out of time it’s all my fault...”

Harley tried comforting him, using any words she thought may help but nothing changed how hard he cried. Not until he cried himself out in Harley’s arms (who had taken over once he’d stopped throwing his arms around).

“I-I-I-I c-ca-c-can-can’t b-be ar-a-arou-a-around her anym-m-more.”

“No Lincoln that’s not-“

“It’s m-my-my f-fau-f-fault I have t-to s-sta-s-stay away.”

Nobody said anything else, letting him sit there and cry himself dry until he eventually decided he’d sleep in the waiting room. “I ha-h-have to stay aw-a-away...”

Day 19:

It was the end. No amount of fighting from Lincoln would change her grandparents minds anymore. Something about wanting to end the suffering she was going through and making sure she got into God’s Kingdom. It wasn’t an answer he was willing to accept but nothing was when it came to ending the life of the one person he had no intention on living without. They delivered the news as soon as he’d woken up that morning, wrapped in a bundle of blankets outside of Mallory’s room so his presence hold risk her recovery.

All he remembered of his reaction was a scream so loud he no longer had a voice, only enough to croak out responses to people who spoke to him. He sat with his knees curled to his chest, tugging on his hair for hours as the world moved around him without him being present in it. People went in and out of Mallory’s room and Lincoln couldn’t do anything but watch their feet move past him.

Lily came up to him and sat beside him on the dirty ground.

“Big brother, what’s wrong? Why is everyone crying?”

Lincoln didn’t know if he was crying or not, his mind was desperate to shut down in order to protect itself.

“Mallory’s going away, Lil,” Lincoln barely got out past the scratches in his throat.

“Oh... Forever?”

Lincoln nodded, letting out a sob into his fist as he did. Lily threw her arms around him.

“Hey, Mallory always said that when something sad happened, something good would come right after, right?”

Another nod and another sob into his fist as he wrapped one arm around Lily. He didn’t want to give her up, he didn’t want to say goodbye to any of his sisters - in fact if anyone in the world would keep him there it would be them, but when he thought of a world without Mallory all he could see was himself wrapped up in a blanket on his mattress until he died of starvation or exposure or whatever it was people died from when they lay there unmoving for an endless amount of time, becoming nothing more than a vegetable, a burden on an already burdened family.

They sat there embracing until Eddie came over.

“Lincoln... If you... wanted to say goodbye.”

Goodbye.

The word washed over him like a tidal wave, pinning his body to the ground with some combination of horror and dread. Still, he stood up.

“H-He-Hey, go s-sit w-wi-with y-your si-s-sisters, L-Li-Lily, I’ll b-be out s-soo-s-soon.”

The young girl nodded, squeezing his waist before running off to sit with the other Brendt siblings.

“Take as long as you need,” Eddie said, squeezing Lincoln’s hand. Lincoln nodded, going into the room and shutting it behind him. He took his spot in the chair that, at that point, had become molded to his shape.

“I tried so hard, Baby,” he choked out through stutters and a hoarse voice, holding his hand tightly in his own. “I really tried so so so hard, I fought so hard to keep you here. I’m so sorry.” He was bawling almost immediately, barely able to get the words past his lips. “I just want you to be back here with me. I just want to hold you. I just want to kiss you and tell you how much I love you.”

His hands shook as he took the ring box out once more. “I know it’s probably selfish of me, to ask that you die with this on, but I don’t plan on being apart for long once you do, and I want you to have it in wherever there is after all of this.”

He slid the ring on her finger and cried as he held it to his lips, pressing kisses against her cold skin, perfect even as she neared death.

“Mallory I have so many things to thank you for and not enough time to say them all. Thank you for opening the door into my coffee shop that morning so long ago and walking into my life, thank you for changing the person I am, for making me a better - no the best version of myself. Thank you for holding my hand when it shakes and for finishing a game of mini golf with me when no one else ever has before. Thank you for sitting patiently with me as I try to spit out my order and for never being embarrassed by the person I am even though I’m embarrassed by the person I am. Thank you for being the one person in my life who knew how to fix all of the broken pieces of me, and thank you for not just knowing how to do it but for doing it. Thank you for loving a man who didn’t think of himself as worthy to be loved and thank you for kissing me even on the darkest days my mind had. Thank you for always seeing what was best for me and for doing it but mostly thank you for being the other part of me who I’ve been searching for for 22 years. For fitting every crooked edge and every shattered side I had. Thank you for completing me in a way I’ve never known.”

Tears were pouring down his cheeks as he pressed his lips against her forehead.

Once.

Twice.

A third, fourth and finally...

A fifth time.

“Please, Mallory, forgive me for what I am going to do when I leave this room. Find it in that beautiful soul to love me again even in death and to forgive me for being such a coward that I can’t live without you.” He was gripping her hand tightly now, sobbing into her hair.

“Forgive me for not loving you for every moment I could have, and for taking for granted the love you gave me. I never will again. Forgive me for breaking your heart in a way I’ll never forgive myself for. Please, Mallory, when I see you again open your arms to me so that we can be together again.”

As he squeezed her hand, he could swear she squeezed back but he knew that wasn’t possible - that such things only happened in dreams or movies or books.

“This is not my goodbye, it isn’t,” he said adamantly. Tears fell onto Mallory’s porcelain face, dripping off of his cheeks. “I will see you again but in the meantime I love you I love you I love you.” He repeated the words over and over again, sobbing them out as he held her hand to his lips.

He felt another squeeze, this time a bit more real. Maybe even a real one.

“I love you I love you I love you,” he continued, his eyes trained on her face now, looking for any signs of movement. Her cheek twitched, as if she wanted to brush away one of the tears there on the skin. “Mallory?!” He reached out, wiping her face clear of his tears. Her lip moved now. He must be dreaming or dead already. There was no way this could be happening. “Mallory, Baby, Baby if you’re there I need you to do something baby, Mallory are you there?!” He watched as her eyelashes fluttered, as if they wanted to open. He let out a desperate sob, punched himself in the leg to see if he was awake. He was. “Mallory, Baby that’s it, that’s it please, Mal, please I just need to see your eyes.”

He gripped her hand with nearly white knuckles, whispering please over and over to herself. Then, there they were. Her blue eyes blinking against the light of the room. Lincoln fell backwards, tripping over the chair and landing with a THUMP on his butt, he scrambled back up.

“You did it, oh my god you did it you came back, Baby I knew you’d come back oh my god you’re so strong you’re so strong!” Lincoln was sobbing, kissing Mallory’s hand once more before rushing towards the hallway. Before he ran out, he took one last glance at Mallory. “I’ve missed your eyes,” he whispered before disappearing into the hall.

“Do-D-Doctors-s-s! Nur-N-Nu-Nurses! G-Go-G-God-d-d!!! Whoe-Wh-Whoever will li-l-liste-l-listen!!!” A crowd of people, most of them his friends and a few others were nurses and a doctor who’d run to see the commotion. “Sh-She’s ali-a-alive.”

With those words, so much relief flooded through his body that he fell limp to the floor as cheers erupted around him and the doctor, along with the nurses, ran past him into Mallory’s room. He slipped into unconsciousness with the first genuine smile he’d had in 19 days.

#( Self Para )

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