I Don't Want To Leave Without You Buried By My Side.

Kellin's POV

I found myself pacing the room for what had to be the tenth time, shooting quick glances between the front door and the old, gray couch where my phone lie. I let out a groan and slapped my legs as I tried to stand in place, frustrated with my habit of pacing.

But how could I not? It's been thirty five minutes since I last heard from Vic, and even though he does live twenty minutes away from Jesse's apartment at least, wouldn't he at least send me a text, to confirm his time span, or just to check in? Yes, he definitely would have. Vic Fuentes, my boyfriend of six months, is one of the rare people I'm close with that always makes sure he gets his point across. He's never not in touch, never one to slip up on his priorities, and never leaves someone hanging with unconfirmed information. Though these are really good traits to have, I know that he really stresses himself out with these thoughts of needing to be on top of everything. And I'm sure that the fact that I'm constantly going to him with my own stupid issues helps add to that stress.

I walked over and checked my phone once again, to my disappointment. After considering it for a few moments, I shot Vic a text, asking if he was at least on his way. I sat down on the couch and waited a good five minutes, until I got restless again and stood up, tossing my phone on the couch again.

I felt bad for probably annoying the fuck out of him with my goddamn needs. I've really been trying to not bother him anymore with myself, I really have been. Today, though... I'm not sure why today was such a breaking point for me. I guess I'm not even sure why I've always been feeling this way, anyways. It's always been so hard to try and explain it to Vic, why I start to feel so... panicked, and freaky, at certain times in the day. Fuck, I didn't even know how to explain what I've been feeling. It's just a terrible feeling to experience, I know that for a fact. And when I'm all alone, with nobody but my father and whatever crackwhore he brought home that night, it's so hard to want to hang on any longer. After all, I ultimately caused all of this, I mean, I knew that my own parents hated me; I haven't heard from my mother in what had to be ten years, and I can't recall the last time I've had a fortified conversation with my own father. And why would they feel any love towards a scum of the earth like me?

'You remember what you did. You told your mother, that something that could have been completely fine, about how horrible it was to your little greedy, naive and voracious five year old self, and ultimately ended up in the destruction of everything you loved. You don't deserve anything regarding love, because you're at fault for ruining yours and your family's shots at it.' A voice in the back of my mind screeched at me, suddenly.

My body started to tense up as the memories came rushing in uninvited, and I quickly shook my head to try and shake them as quickly as possible. I felt the first wave of chills rush from my head down to my-- again moving-- feet, and fuck, where the hell was Vic? I don't think I could handle another attack tonight by myself. Why did I assure Jesse I would be completely fine, and push him out so quickly?

I needed something to calm myself down, at least to take my mind somewhere else, in the mean time.

I quickly grabbed my phone, and scrolled through my contacts until I found Tony P., a friend that I've been... 'hanging out' with recently. I took note of the time, it was 10:57. Surely he was up, hopefully somewhere near downtown where Jesse's apartment was. After a few failed attempts due to my fucking fingers which wouldn't stop shaking, I sent Tony a text. Within a few minutes, he responded. I read his message, and I could almost feel my body relax just by the thought of getting something into my system. I couldn't help but think of what I was keeping from Vic yet again as I grabbed my jacket and the money I had brought with me to Jesse's, and quickly headed out the door. I know he would understand, at least I prayed he would. Not that he would ever find out; after all, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And I wasn't going to be long, anyways. By the time I'd be finished meeting with Tony and whoever was with him, I'm sure Vic would still be held back at his place for whatever reason...

Vic's POV

I'm walking down a long, dimly lit hallway. I can't see what's at the end, but if I keep walking, I know i could find it. With each step I take, I start to become more scared. There are voices that start to become louder. But I keep walking. The farther I get, the louder the voices become, and I soon start to realize that I cannot stop walking. My legs keep pulling me farther and farther down, and my minds telling me to turn around, but I physically can't leave. I start to develop a cold sweat through my panic, my own bodily fluids dripping off of me and leaving puddles

on the floor. But it's so cold. And I'm still moving, feeling the strain on my entire body as my mind tries to pull me away. Then, I see somebody lurking in the shadows at the end. The person looks vaguely familiar, and I can hear his voice echo down the hallway and reverberate inside my skull. I don't know what he's saying. I soon recognize my name through his dialogue, which seems to attract my legs enough to pull me even closer to the young man.

The first thing I notice which helps me recognize him is his jet black, shaggy hair. It falls over his eyes, or his face rather, and I realize he has an arm extended out towards me. The next thing I notice is his is small frame, shoulders slumped forward and skinny legs reaching the floor. He's barefoot, the way he always preferred.

As I take in my boyfriend's features, I realize that my legs have come to a stop. I'm still sweating, however, and panting heavily. My heart is doing somersaults in my chest, and not in the good way, more in the terrified, 'get the fuck out of there' way. It's hard for me to interpret why I am feeling so terrified. Us now being about 5 yards apart, Kellin slowly brings his arm to his side.

"Vic, you're bleeding." The words were loud and sharp, startling me. At that moment, I seemed to gain control of my mind and body, and my head snapped down to look at where he was talking about. I thought my heart was about to stop when I saw my arm covered in blood; so much blood, it was dripping to the floor. I opened my mouth to say something, but no sound came out. I lifted my other hand to my mouth, and that's when I realized the other arm was also covered in blood.

It didn't take me long to realize that this whole time, it wasn't sweat pouring off of me, it was blood, and I looked behind me to find the red liquid trailed up to where I was now. I looked up at Kellin in a panic, my head starting to spin as blood started pouring down my face, covering my eyes. He stared back, his icy blue eyes revealing themselves in a menacing, but disappointed, stare. And the only thing I could think of before I fell to the ground to melt in my own puddle of blood, was how horrifically disgusting I was. How I have failed Kellin, the only person I loved, the only person I truly cared about, I let him down. As I crumpled into myself, a large splash of blood dumped onto my face, choking me.

"Fucking A, Vic, don't do this to me!"

I was choking. I couldn't breathe. It hurt, but I let my eyes flutter open to a really bright light, awakening from my slumber. The blood was still pouring off of me, I could feel it. I sucked in a sharp breath and sat up quickly, resulting in me to go into a huge coughing fit. I was still foggy, and my vision was fuzzy, but I still frantically gripped my body to stop the bleeding. I still felt it, though. I doubled over, dizzy, and started coughing out water.

"Vic." A hand touched my back, rubbing awkwardly against my soaked shirt. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and fell on my side to the floor. Why would he touch me? He's going to get his hand all bloody. What have I done?

"I-I'm sorry. I'M SORRY!" I began to yell suddenly, gripping my head which was still wet. "Jesus christ, just stop the bleeding! I'm disgusting! Kellin, I'm sorry! Why do you put up with me?! Just let me die! Let me-"

The hand grabbed onto my arms and yanked me, pulling me out of the puddle of blood and to the cold, dry floor. "Vic! Look at me! Open your eyes." The voice didnt sound like Kellin anymore. And I wasn't bleeding anymore either. Steady arms still held me in place, sitting me down.

"Don't touch me. You don't want the blood all over you." I shook my head, trying to push the arms away from me.

"There's not that much blood! You're fine!"

I opened my eyes. I saw a puddle, that was sure, but it wasn't blood. It was water. I was covered in water. My left hand, however, was bloody, but not as bloody as I thought.

"See? You're okay." I looked up and saw my brother, Mike. He squeezed my arms and I tried to relax a little bit.

"Mike?" I croaked. I then realized that my head was killing me. I grabbed it, and looked around. "What... what's going on? Where's Kellin?"

"Um... he's not here, Vic. You passed out... do you-"

"He's not here?!" I was startled at my own surprise. But wasn't he just here a second ago? What the fuck even happened?

"No, he was never here." Mike replied, showing a hint of annoyance. "Do you know why you passed out, Vic?"

"I..." I thought hard. The last thing I remembered was when I was cutting last night...or was it earlier today? Is that why my hand is so bloody? No, I was cutting my wrist, not my hand. So why is it bloody? I examined it, finding two small, but deep, gashes near my pinky. "Can you give me a hint?" I finally asked. It hurt my head to think.

"You and Mom got in a fight. Do you remember that at all?" His eyes started to grow, his voice shaking a bit.

Then I realized, I did remember something about a fight. There was a bottle, a glass bottle, because I remember hearing it smash. "Yeah... yeah I do. The bottle cut me." I held up my hand so he could see.

Mike took my arm. "I know. I saw." He sighed. "Do you remember anything else?"

I tried to remember again, looking at my hand to hope for a sign. But I kept thinking about the corridor and the sweat-blood and Kellin. "Can I ask you a question instead?" I eventually said. He nodded.

"Why am I all wet?"

He chuckled, to my surprise. But the chuckle went away as quick as it came. "Well... I found you bleeding after you threw up, passed out on the floor. So I stuck you in the shower after I realized you were really out." He explained bluntly, motioning to the shower behind me. "You really scared me, bro."

"Sorry," I looked down.

He shook his head. "It's uh, it's fine. Want me to get you some dry clothes?" He stood, hand already on the doorknob.

"Um, yeah. Get me a sweatshirt? I'm cold." I lied, grabbing a towel and gently rubbing it through my hair. Too much had gone down already, the last thing I needed was for mike to find out I cut myself again.

Mike nodded and left. I stood up, careful to remain my balance, and walked over to the sink. I ran my hand under warm water, and grabbed Neosporin from the cabinet. I saw myself in the mirror, and God, I looked horrible. I was pale, which was a shock, taking my usual darker Mexican complexion into consideration. I had dark circles under my eyes, which wasn't an unusual thing, except they stood out quite more than usual. My face just looked sunken, unlively, and sickly. I cleaned myself, then leaned my head against the cool glass.

Remnants of the night appeared in my mind, and I tried to piece them together. By the time Mike returned with my clothes, I had realized that if it weren't for Mike, one, I'd still be passed out and probably need medical attention, and two, who knows how far my mother and I would've gone in our fight. I felt grateful for him, but ashamed of myself. Maybe it was because I never let my true self out in front of Mike, because I know how he looks up to me. And since this little episode, he knows how fucked up I really am.

He handed me my clothes. "Here's your phone, and you have a text from Kellin."

"Oh, okay." He turned to walk out. "Um, Mike?"

"Yeah?"

I didn't really know what to say. "Uh, thanks."

He gave me a look. "Thanks?"

"Yeah. For uh, saving my life. Twice." In a sense, he did save my life literally, and from myself taking it too far in the fight.

"Vic," he started, eyebrows pulled down, "I had to. I couldn't leave you there, no matter how pissed off I am at you."

I didn't reall know how to respond. "Pissed at me?" I questioned, confused.

"Yes. Pissed at you and Mom. You know that, right Vic?"

Pissed at me? I remembered him in hysterics, screaming at us, tears streaming down his face. I wished he wouldn't burden himself to worry about us, about our issues. But I must have been an asshole to him. I shouldn't have done that, for Mike's sake. I don't regret it fully, but I regret the timing. Fuck, what am I thinking? I'm a horrible person. My own brother hates me now, it's only a matter of time before everyone starts realizing how horrible I am. "I... I shouldn't have done that. I'm-"

"Don't say sorry. I know you aren't. But it's okay, I can't change what happened to all of us." I assumed by 'all of us' he meant me, mom, and him. "Anyways, get dressed. That must be so uncomfortable." He motioned to my soaking wet layers. "And answer that text from Kellin, he's probably wondering where the fuck you are."

And not even a second later, he was gone. His words should have hurt more than they did, but I just felt... numb. Was I actually sorry? I didn't know what to feel anymore. I started to undress, and opened the text from Kellin.

'Hey, are u on your way? Its been 30 mins and im worried. Txt me back?'

On my way? Wait... oh fuck, I'm such a dumbass. I never even stopped to think why my mother and I had a fight, when i was struggling to even remember the fight. Kellin. I completely forgot I was supposed to be 'on my way.'

I quickly dialed his number, getting his voicemail. I called two more times. Nothing.

Then I started to panic. "Shit. Shitshitshitshit." I quickly dressed myself, slipping into my room. It was 11:45, it was about one and a half hours since I talked to Kellin last. God Vic, you literally fucked up everything about this night, what if Kellin did something dangerous? My head was flooded with the horrific possibilities.

I wasn't going to risk going out the front door. I knew that I shouldn't leave; I was still feeling light headed, but I had to-- for Kellin.

So, silently, I grabbed a handful of money from my stash; just in case, slipped a beanie over my head, and climbed out the window.