“2:00 AM and she calls me cause I’m still awake…”
The phone rings, waking me up. I glance at the clock. Two in the morning. This better be good.
I reach a tired, limp hand towards the phone on the nightstand. I pick up, and take a segundo to yawn. “Hello?” I mumble into the phone.
“Dally?” I hear (Y/N) ask. I’m immediately up, fully awake.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” I ask, voice full of concern, getting out of cama to throw a pair of jeans on.
I hear her sniffle on the other end. I hated it when she cried.
“Honey?” I ask softly, prompting the words out of her.
“I can’t do it.” She stutters it out.
I’m silent, waiting for her to continue, as I throw on a shirt.
“I can’t deal with this anymore.” I can hear the hurt, the sadness, the sobs in her voice. It physically pained me to know she was this upset, about something.
She takes a deep breath. “I can’t deal with life anymore.”
I freeze.
“(Y/N), tu aren’t going to…” I start, but fade off.
“I don’t know.” She sobs. “I want to. I need to. But it’s wrong. I really don’t need to.”
I slump back onto the wall, falling to the floor, hand covering my mouth. The words I need to tell her aren’t capable of coming out of my mouth.
“I’m coming over.” I finally manage to say.
“Dally… tu don’t-“
“I’m coming over.” I repeat as I hang up the phone.
I grab my leather jacket, put on some shoes, and sprint out of my room, down the stairs, through the bar, out the door, to my car.
As I drive, I go through everything in my head. I make sure I didn’t leave anything at her house that could… tu know. I didn’t leave my switchblade their, o my gun. If she was going to do this, she was t going to use my weapon.
I stop in front of her house, taking a deep breath as I park the car. Just breath.
It looks like no ones home, but I know better. I walk up the front porch, and turn the handle to the door. It clicks open with ease. Her dad was probably out, drinking o something.
“(Y/N)?” I call as I step into the quiet house. “Where are you?”
I hear her muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. I run through the living room.
A single light is on in the bathroom. It illuminates the red, sticky, sweet blood on the tile floor. She’s huddled in the corner, leaning against the bathroom wall, head in her hands.
I take a deep breath, thankful she is still alive. I kneel down in front of her.
“(Y/N)? Baby… tu ok?” Her shoulders just heave with the silent sobs.
“Look at me honey,” I plead. “Please.”
She takes her head from her hand, to reveal a gash on her cheek and multiple cuts on her wrist. She throws her arms around me, and the sobs just continue.
I clutch the back of her head, pulling her even closer to me.
“You’re ok… I got you. Shhhh… You’re fine. I’m here.” I say, rocking her back and forth. She begins to hyperventilate; gulping for air and coughing.
I shift positions, and scoop her up bridal style, and sit her down in mu lap. “Breath. Just breath.” I say soothingly, stroking her hair.
She begins to breath más normally, and the crying eventually stops. And I just hold her the whole time.
I almost lost her, I’m not going to let her go again.
She slowly dozes off to sleep, face still red from crying.
I push back a strand of her hair. Never could keep that little piece back.
She feels so cold. I realize that I should put a hoodie on her and put her to bed.
I carefully stand up, and she stirs a little. I walk from the bathroom to her room. I softly set her on her bed, and grab her favoritos camisa de entrenamiento, sudadera from off the floor. I gently sit her up and pull the camisa de entrenamiento, sudadera over her head, and get the arms through.
I cuddle up on the cama siguiente to her, and pull all the blankets over us. I put my arm over her waist, protecting her from any bad dreams tonight.
I rest my head on her shoulder.
And take a deep breath.
Breathe. Just Breathe.
The phone rings, waking me up. I glance at the clock. Two in the morning. This better be good.
I reach a tired, limp hand towards the phone on the nightstand. I pick up, and take a segundo to yawn. “Hello?” I mumble into the phone.
“Dally?” I hear (Y/N) ask. I’m immediately up, fully awake.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” I ask, voice full of concern, getting out of cama to throw a pair of jeans on.
I hear her sniffle on the other end. I hated it when she cried.
“Honey?” I ask softly, prompting the words out of her.
“I can’t do it.” She stutters it out.
I’m silent, waiting for her to continue, as I throw on a shirt.
“I can’t deal with this anymore.” I can hear the hurt, the sadness, the sobs in her voice. It physically pained me to know she was this upset, about something.
She takes a deep breath. “I can’t deal with life anymore.”
I freeze.
“(Y/N), tu aren’t going to…” I start, but fade off.
“I don’t know.” She sobs. “I want to. I need to. But it’s wrong. I really don’t need to.”
I slump back onto the wall, falling to the floor, hand covering my mouth. The words I need to tell her aren’t capable of coming out of my mouth.
“I’m coming over.” I finally manage to say.
“Dally… tu don’t-“
“I’m coming over.” I repeat as I hang up the phone.
I grab my leather jacket, put on some shoes, and sprint out of my room, down the stairs, through the bar, out the door, to my car.
As I drive, I go through everything in my head. I make sure I didn’t leave anything at her house that could… tu know. I didn’t leave my switchblade their, o my gun. If she was going to do this, she was t going to use my weapon.
I stop in front of her house, taking a deep breath as I park the car. Just breath.
It looks like no ones home, but I know better. I walk up the front porch, and turn the handle to the door. It clicks open with ease. Her dad was probably out, drinking o something.
“(Y/N)?” I call as I step into the quiet house. “Where are you?”
I hear her muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. I run through the living room.
A single light is on in the bathroom. It illuminates the red, sticky, sweet blood on the tile floor. She’s huddled in the corner, leaning against the bathroom wall, head in her hands.
I take a deep breath, thankful she is still alive. I kneel down in front of her.
“(Y/N)? Baby… tu ok?” Her shoulders just heave with the silent sobs.
“Look at me honey,” I plead. “Please.”
She takes her head from her hand, to reveal a gash on her cheek and multiple cuts on her wrist. She throws her arms around me, and the sobs just continue.
I clutch the back of her head, pulling her even closer to me.
“You’re ok… I got you. Shhhh… You’re fine. I’m here.” I say, rocking her back and forth. She begins to hyperventilate; gulping for air and coughing.
I shift positions, and scoop her up bridal style, and sit her down in mu lap. “Breath. Just breath.” I say soothingly, stroking her hair.
She begins to breath más normally, and the crying eventually stops. And I just hold her the whole time.
I almost lost her, I’m not going to let her go again.
She slowly dozes off to sleep, face still red from crying.
I push back a strand of her hair. Never could keep that little piece back.
She feels so cold. I realize that I should put a hoodie on her and put her to bed.
I carefully stand up, and she stirs a little. I walk from the bathroom to her room. I softly set her on her bed, and grab her favoritos camisa de entrenamiento, sudadera from off the floor. I gently sit her up and pull the camisa de entrenamiento, sudadera over her head, and get the arms through.
I cuddle up on the cama siguiente to her, and pull all the blankets over us. I put my arm over her waist, protecting her from any bad dreams tonight.
I rest my head on her shoulder.
And take a deep breath.
Breathe. Just Breathe.
