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It's dark when Kellin gets home. I hadn't noticed it was dark until now. I've just been so out of it. Who knows how long I've been sitting in the dark for.

"Vic," he calls confused, coming into the living room.

He flicks the light on and I immediately shield my eyes from the unbearable light.

"Have you been laying there since I left?" Kellin asks sounding worried.

"No, I got up." I assure him to ease his mind.

"Oh, right, you got dressed." he points out, tiredly rubbing his temple.

I glance down at my clothes just to make sure I got changed. Hopefully the blood comes out of my other shirt.

"What are you doing just sitting here in the dark? Kinda thought you would have cooked by now." Kellin frowns.

Guilt washes through me. I've felt like a zombie practically all day. I don't even know if I have it in me to cook.

"Why don't we just get take-out?" I sigh, feeling a little weak as the air leaves my lungs.

"You were supposed to cook the steak tonight. It goes off tomorrow." Kellin frowns.

I consider just getting up and cooking but the thought literally makes me dizzy. I don't know if I can even get off the sofa.

"What if we just call it a loss and forget about the steak? I really don't feel like cooking." I suggest hopefully.

But Kellin doesn't seem to like the idea at all.

"Those steaks are ten dollars each, Vic. We can't just throw them out. That's money I worked for. You can't just throw my money away." he says with a snarky tone.

"Your money? I thought it was our money." I say definitively.

Tension lingers in the air for a minute then Kellin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"It is. It's our money. Don't worry about it. I'll cook." he murmurs, defeated.

The tension breaks as he leaves the room and I start feeling guilty all over again. Why can I just get up and cook dinner? Why am I so useless right now?

I hug my knees to my chest, desperately trying to push down all emotion as I listen to Kellin cooking dinner from the kitchen. I want to go in there and keep him company, ask him how his day went. It's the least I could do for being so unhelpful, but I feel like I might cry at any second and I don't want to do it in front of him. I don't want to stress him out even more.

I spend the next twenty minutes trying to calm myself until Kellin finally calls me in for dinner.

I take a deep breath, then push myself from the sofa. I steady myself as I'm hit with a wave of vertigo, then I make my way to the dining room.

Kellin's already eating by the time I've sat down. He still looks pissed-off which makes me hesitant to even breathe too loud.

I look down at the steak and homemade fries on my plate. It looks delicious in theory, but my stomach tightens and I realize I'm not at all hungry. I feel nauseous.

Kellin silently eats his food, the only sound being the knife and fork hitting the ceramic plate, which echoes deafeningly through the room.

I cut off a small bit of steak and force it into my mouth. But I'm chewing forever, dreading the moment I have to swallow it. I really don't feel like I can eat right now.

I manage to force down two small pieces of steak and a few small fries in the time it takes for Kellin to be finished.

He looks up from his plate for the first time since the meal began. He glances from my plate to me, then back down to my plate.

"What's wrong with it?" he frowns.

"Nothing! It's good!" I urge. "I'm just not super hungry right now."

My words seem to upset Kellin.

"I just spent all day at work, then I come home and cook you dinner, and you don't even eat it?" he huffs, putting his head in his hands.

I feel guilty once again.

"What did you even do all day? This place is a mess. I feel like I'm suffocating in here. You couldn't just clean up a little?" he cries, flailing his arms in frustration as tears begin falling down his cheeks.

His obvious pain, evidently caused by me, shatters my heart into more pieces than the glass I broke earlier.

I drop my hands to my lap and grab my wrist tightly, clawing at the cuts through my sleeve, forcing myself to experience the pain I've made Kellin feel right now.

He puts his head in his hands again and we're silent for a long time until he takes a deep breath and wipes his eyes.

"I feel like I'm losing my mind." he whispers to himself.

He looks to me tearfully and shakes his head.

"I'm sorry. I'm not being fair." he croaks. "I've just had a really hard day. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"What happened?" I ask worried, extending my hand across the table.

He places his in mine, and suddenly everything feels okay again.

"Gabe offered me a beer." he whispers and I feel myself panic a little.

"Did you..." I trail off.

"No, no." he assures me. "I turned it down it. But it was just hard. I thought I was going to take it for a minute. I tried to convince myself that I can just have one, you know? But I know deep down that that will never happen. I can't just have one. I know I won't ever stop at one."

I squeeze his hand to give him whatever comfort I can.

"It's whatever." he says, suddenly brushing the whole thing off. "You don't have to eat anything you don't want to. Why don't you put it in the fridge for tomorrow?"

His glistening eyes dart around the room as he avoids my gaze. He tries to pull his hand from mine, but I hold it tighter.

"Hey," I say softly.

His eyes lock with mine.

"I'm here for you, okay? You need anything, just ask." I say firmly.

He nods and sniffs away his tears.

His gaze falls to our hands and his eyebrows furrow with concern.

"Babe, what happened to your hand?" he asks worriedly.

"Nothing." I gulp, quickly pulling my hand away. I instinctively pull my sleeve down.

"That's not nothing. Show me." he frowns.

I sigh and place my hand back on the table. He takes it and examines the deep gash in the side of my palm. I hope to god he doesn't think to push up my sleeve.

"This is bad, Vic. Seriously, what happened?" he frowns.

"I just broke a glass." I shrug.

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" he sighs.

I watch him subconsciously rub his temple which makes me worry I've stressed him out even more than I already have.

"I didn't think it was a big deal and I didn't want to worry you." I admit.

"This might need stitches. You could get an infection. You haven't even wrapped it up. If you're not going to look after yourself, I'm going to be worried." he huffs.

"It's fine, Kells." I urge.

He gets up in a huff and stomps out of the room. I look back down at the red throbbing cut on my hand. I grit my teeth and press my fingers into it again. I feel it ache and lean into the pain. This is what I get for being so useless.

But when I hear Kellin's sluggish footsteps reapproaching the kitchen, I quickly stop.

He's holding a bandage, a gause and some rubbing alcohol in his hand as he sits back at the table.

He takes my hand and examines the cuts.

"It somehow looks worse." he sighs and I instinctively gulp. "This might hurt a little, okay? I'll try to be gentle."

My heart melts at his sweetness. I don't deserve it. He cleans the cut with the alcohol then he wraps it with the gauze and bandage. Then he brings my bandaged hand to his lips.

He gently kisses it and I watch as a few tears slide down his cheeks.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I ask worried.

"I've been such a monster to you today." he sniffs, lifting his head to look at me tearfully. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

I look at him, searching for a cause so I can find a cure. Then a thought comes to mind and I wonder if I should even suggest it.

"Kells," I say softly.

He looks to me expectantly.

"You used to be quite snappy when you drank." I say hesitantly, looking at him worried.

I watch heartbreak fill his eyes and he shakes his head.

"I haven't had anything to drink." he whimpers, dropping my hand and wrapping his arms around himself defensively.

"I believe you." I urge, realizing that I've made a mistake. "I just had to ask."

"I already told you I didn't. I would tell you if I did." he chokes out, putting his head in his hands.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just want to work out why you're not feeling like yourself so I can figure out how to make you feel better." I explain softly, trying to meet his gaze.

He chokes out another sob then falls suddenly quiet altogether as if he's just realised something. He stares off to the side for a few noticible seconds then he shakes himself out of it.

"What? What's wrong?" I ask eager to know what's going through his head.

"Nothing." he says, but it's hardly convincing. "Nothing. I think I'm just tired."

"Okay. Do you want to go to bed?" I suggest.

"Yeah, if you don't mind." he agrees.

"Of course not. I'll put this food away and meet you up there, okay?"

He nods and stands from the table before leaving the room again.

I try not to think too much as I wrap up my food and put it in the fridge. I lock up then I get my pillows from the sofa and head upstairs to my husband.

Kellin looks to me as I enter the room. He's resting against the headboard already undressed and under the covers.

"Did you lock up?" he asks.

"Of course." I reassure him, then I head into our ensuite to brush my teeth.

I feel like a zombie as I'm brushing my teeth though. This is the last thing I want to be doing. It's so trivial in the grand scheme of things. I just want to pass out, not stand here absentmindedly for 2 minutes.

Once the tedious task is done, I grab the hem of my shirt, ready to take it off but I come to a sudden halt upon realizing that I can't do that. I need to keep these cuts covered.

I consider changing into some pyjamas but the task feels draining so I forget about it and just head to bed.

I turn the light off then go collapse next to Kellin. I notice him squint at me confused through the moonlight. He rests down on his pillow and turns towards me.

"You not going to get undressed?" he asks confused.

"No, I'm a little cold tonight." I lie.

He still looks confused but nods. Then he pouts.

"I miss your body already." he murmurs.

I force a smile but he seems to see right though it.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"Yeah, just really tired." I admit.

He places his hand on my cheek and caresses it gently with his thumb.

"Okay, I'll let you sleep." he smiles gently then he places a loving kiss on my lips. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." I smile, a tired smile but a genuine smile. That was exactly what I needed to hear right now.

He moves into my chest so I wrap my arms around him. I missed this. I really missed this.

But as I feel my wrist press against his back, I'm reminded that I don't deserve this. I'm don't deserve his affection or his love.

I probably deserve to be as dead as my uncle is right now, as dead as Carter.

I welcome sleep with open arms as it comes early tonight, but when I inevitably wake up, I find myself wishing I never did.

--

Oop sorry this is garbage.

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