#what if I took up jogging and you were dissociating at the wheel and it was dark out and you hit me with your car and we exchanged numbers

[short666bread]

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 6: Intruality (TW)

I’m sorry this wasn’t out on time. My dog was put down last night and I spent the evening with my family.

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 6: When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area.

Trigger warning!!!

Content warnings: Graphic descriptions of self harm, dissociation/derealization, mention of intrusive thoughts, panic attack, blood, medication not working, stitches/needles, crying, implied PTSD. It’s dark, y’all, but it gets better at the end. 

Word count: 2.2k

The first few small twinges of pain, he ignored. Remus had a habit of getting himself hurt, trying to cook in the kitchen without supervision or falling off the couch in an effort to reach the remote without standing up, so Patton was more than used to those tiny bumps. He jumped as a hit to the side of his head surprised him, earning a concerned look from his coworker. 

“Soulmate,” He said quickly, waving off her concern with a wide grin and returning his focus to his patient, a grey kitten in need of her first shots. He’d probably need to give Remus another lecture on being on his phone while walking; this wasn’t the first time he’d knocked his head into a door frame.

Another sudden pain in his thigh shocked him, muttering Remus’ name under his breath like a curse. A very loving, concerned curse. This time the nurse laughed with him, reaching forward to take the now dewormed kitten and reaching in the crate for the next one of the litter. This one was a little white one with dappled grey spots around her head, and Patton couldn’t help the soft coo that escaped his lips when she curled right up and continued her nap on the table. 

But then another shock of white hot pain exploded across his collarbone and he gasped, dropping the needle onto the table as his hands flew up to the source of the pain. Whatever this was, it didn’t seem like it should be ignored. With an apologetic smile and understanding response from his coworker, he ducked out of the room and into the back, pulling his phone from his back pocket.

“C’mon, Remus, pick up, pick up…” Absentmindedly, his hand kept running across his neck and collarbone where the residual pain still resided, throbbing to the beat of his pulse. He couldn’t place his finger on what could have caused the feeling, but the looming weight of uneasiness in his stomach made him nauseous. 

No answer.

Just as well, he figured, since the ache from all three hits were all receding slowly, and there was no sign of there being a next one. Maybe this was just Remus being his clumsy self, and he’d worked himself into a panic for nothing. He’d bring it up when he got home, and his soulmate would laugh and press a kiss to his nose and tell him he worried too much. Patton would claim it was just because he loved him, and he’d kiss him, and they’d start making dinner together. It would be fine, just like how it always was. 

And then it wasn’t.

He’d just reached for the door back into his room to finish up with the litter when a sharp pain in his right arm caused him to flinch violently, bringing his hand to his chest. It didn’t stop after the first one though, the burning continued up his arms, until he was hissing in pain, struggling to redial Remus’ contact. 

This pain wasn’t new, per se, but it had been years since he’d felt it, and it was just as concerning as it had always been, if not more. 

“Pick up, baby, please pick up…” 

He was greeted by Remus’ voicemail again, and the next time he called, and the one after that. Every time it beeped, he hung up and redialed, unsure what to even say in a message. He needed to talk to Remus, now. 

Instead of answering, though, the stinging in his arm became more and more intense, until he was checking every couple seconds, fully expecting there to be physical evidence. Not that there ever was; just phantom touches that he could do nothing to soothe. 

Voicemail again. Resolute, Patton grabbed his jacket off the hook, and after explaining the situation to his secretary in as few words as possible, he sprinted out of the veterinary building and to his car.

“You’ve reached Remus, bitches. You know the drill. Who honestly leaves voicemails anymore, though?” A loud beep echoed through the speaker just as Patton started the engine. 

“Hey, Remus, it’s me. It’s Patton. Are you okay? I- ow, ow, ow, okay. That one hurt. Remus, answer the phone, call me back, okay? Please, baby. I’m on my way home, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just… I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

He threw the phone onto the passenger seat as he pulled onto the highway, resisting the urge to bite down on his nails. It was a habit he’d kicked years ago, when Remus had also started working on his habit, and apparently the urge was connected. Instead, he dug his fingertips into his steering wheel, trying to direct the pain somewhere else. 

Every traffic light was red, every turn was backed up with cars, every minute a new burning pain cut through his arm or another hit exploded across his skull. He was hardly able to focus on driving. Patton wasn’t one to swear, but boy was he getting close by the time he pulled into their driveway, barely remembering to lock the car door before bursting through the front door, panting from both panic and pain.

“Remus?” He called, noting the surprising stillness of the house. Moments later there was another slash on his arm and he stumbled, clutching his wrist. “Remus, it’s Patton! Where are you?”

He took off down the hallways in a half jog, heart thudding loudly in his chest, and threw open their bedroom door, taking a wild guess. 

Wrong move. 

A startled Remus lunged back from the hunched position he’d been in on the floor, slamming his back into the wall just behind him, sending a matching ripple of pain up Patton’s spine. His eyes were glazed and unseeing, his thousand-yard stare aimed at the space beside Patton’s head. His collar bone was marred with deep scratches from where his fingers had raked down the skin, like he had had trouble breathing. He froze, watching Remus’ fingers curl into his hair and pull, before his hands curled into fists and started pounding the sides of his head, letting out a choked wail. 

Ignoring the echo of the hits in his own body, Patton started to cross the room slowly, when something clattered at his feet. Taking his eyes off Remus for just a split second to inspect the carpeted floor, he bent down and picked up a shard of glass, the edge stained red with blood. Where the glass was from, he didn’t care. Another shuddering breath from Remus brought his attention back to the present.

“Hey, Remus, it’s Patton. It’s just me. I’m right here, okay? I’m right here.” He knelt down in front of him, carefully avoiding the smaller glass slivers.

He was expecting it; he knew they would be there, but seeing the cuts littering Remus’ arms still made his stomach churn. There were… a lot… though most of them weren’t dangerously deep. A few, Patton could tell despite the bloody mess dripping onto Remus’ shirt and the carpet, were going to require stitches for sure, but none of them were life threatening. Now, the task at hand was to calm Remus down.

Words weren’t doing anything to break him out of his dissociative state. It had been a long time since Patton had seen him like this, and his mind seemed to have frozen… what did he used to do? His hands faltered in midair, just floating in front of Remus uselessly, until Remus jerked violently and raised his fists to his head again with a sob.

“Okay, nope, let’s not do that. Bad idea,” Patton grabbed his wrists gently before the hitting could begin again, avoiding the deepest slash carefully. Remus didn’t respond; he couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad one, his glazed eyes still staring straight ahead, lost in his own mind. 

Murmuring to himself, if for no reason other than to break the unsettling silence, Patton grabbed a shirt off the floor and pressed it to Remus’ worse arm, staunching the blood that continued to ooze steadily. The only indication that his soulmate even knew he was there was the almost imperceptible flicker of his eyes towards the cloth on his wrist, but the far off look didn’t budge an inch. His breath continued to stutter, hands shaking as they struggled weakly to cause more damage, more pain, feel more real.

Knowing it would be useless to try and get Remus to stand, much less walk to the bathroom to get a better look at his cuts, Patton shuffled clumsily until he was next to him, tucking him under his arm in a way that made Remus look much too small. He kept the pressure on the shirt, which he only now realized was his own pajama shirt, and pressed a gentle kiss to Remus’ head.

“Breathe, hun, it’s okay. I’m here now, just focus on me. You’re okay.”

He continued to flinch under Patton’s arm, breath staccato and panicky, eyes lost in a fog of his intrusive thoughts and traumatic memories. The dull throbbing in Patton’s arms and skull was starting to fade from the sharp pain it had been when the wounds were first inflicted. It wouldn’t disappear completely, not until Remus’ did, but it was more manageable than before. 

He lost track of how long they sat there, huddled into the corner of the room in a tight huddle, until Remus started crying. Patton felt them before he heard them; deep, wrenching sobs that shook Remus’ whole body, desperate gasps for air between whimpers that made Patton pull him closer, if it were even possible.

“I- I’m sorry, Pat… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I know. It’s okay, hun. I’m okay. Can you stand up?”

Getting to his feet was a lot harder than it should have been, his position on the floor for god knows how long had made his feet impossibly numb and he used Patton as a crutch, hobbling to the attached bathroom, all the while apologizing profusely for the blood he’d gotten on their clothing. The other only hushed him gently, helping him sit on the closed toilet seat and wetting a hand towel under the tap. 

“What happened, Rem?” He said it without a hint of anger or disappointment in his voice, just concern, and sat on the edge of the bathtub next to him. 

“I don’t-” His face twisted into one of pain as Patton peeled away the shirt from his arms, reopening the gashes that had dried shut on the cloth. “I don’t know.”

“Have you been taking your meds?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, albeit reluctantly, “I think I might need new ones.”

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll book an appointment as soon as we get these taken care of.” 

 He only winced a couple times, a victory in his book, as Patton delicately cleaned the dried blood away from the cuts, clicking his tongue at the deeper lacerations that hadn’t stopped bleeding. They hurt, a sensation he was sure Patton was feeling too, not to mention the pounding headache that had started festering. His knuckles were sore, and he had a feeling the two were connected. 

“We’re gonna have to go to the hospital and get these stitched up, and you might need a tetanus shot. Where did you get the glass?”

Remus screwed his face up before shaking his head, eyes downcast, “I don’t remember. It’s all really blurry.” He hissed as Patton brushed by a particularly deep one, earning a matching pained sound from his soulmate. “I’m sorry, Pat. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t even know you were doing it, hun. Don’t feel bad.”

“But I… I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. You deserve someone who doesn’t… do this.”

Patton sighed deeply. “Baby, look at me.” He did, eyes brimming with new tears that he choked back miserably. “Never, for one second in my life, have I regretted having you as a soulmate.”

“But-”

“Nope! No buts! As far as I’m concerned, our soulmark is a good thing! It means that I can come help you when you need help, when you can’t ask for it. Like today. Imagine what could have…”

Patton trailed off, eyes dropping back to his rag. He’d scraped off most of the dried blood, enough to properly see the extent of the damage, so he grabbed another towel from the rack and handed it to Remus.

“I love you, Remus. I always have and I always will. Nothing can ever change that.”

It seemed odd that that was the moment Remus decided to fall apart again, letting himself be pulled into a tight hug and burying his nose in Patton’s shoulder. In the back of Patton’s mind, he was aware that they needed to leave, to get Remus stitched up as quick as possible, but a couple more minutes couldn’t hurt. Later, they would hobble out to Patton’s car, passing the broken picture frame that Remus had knocked over in his panic, and turn on Remus’ favorite music. Patton would remind him to keep the pressure on his arms, and they’d drive down to urgent care. He’d would hold his hands when Remus turns away from the needles, pressing more soft kisses to his head, would tell him about the kittens while the doctor stitches him up, would tell corny jokes to make his soulmate laugh. Right now, though, all that mattered to him was the slowly calming man in his arms, the man that meant more to him than anyone ever had.

“I love you, Rem.”

“I love you, too.”