(Posted on my message board too) Just so you all know, I'm in the process of writing a new Gawsten one-shot but it may be hard hitting for some and is intentionally realistic and true emotions experienced by me as I need a way to get what I'm feeling out now. It is in no way meant to upset anyone or make fun of anyone's situation. I know this sounds serious but I just don't want anyone to get triggered or upset. Ok, thank you xox

His plate was empty. Conversation trickled to a eminent end and seven o'clock drew ever nearer.

"I guess I should go pack." Words he wished he never uttered in a tone so bitter it could slice through anyone it was aimed at. From the head of the table his father nodded, blissfully unaware of the message his son was trying to say.

If no one was going to ask there was no point in saying anything. But there was nothing he wished for more than those three words. He sighed heavily and leant back, moving to stand up. His faraway stare stayed stuck to the table. He wanted time to stop; to make the moment last forever.

When still no one spoke, he rose and dragged his feet across the carpeted floor. He paused momentarily at the foot of the staircase but all he heard was the clatter of plates being cleared.

His body was a stone being dragged by some invisible force up the stairs. It continued to pull him towards his room and inside before leaving him to drop the floor beside his bed.

From this level he could see all the areas he'd missed when cleaning. If he were elsewhere he would be shouted at and grounded, but this was his safe place. No arguments or threats here. Like a house, a home, should be. A real family.

The minutes spent ferrying around, putting clothing items, school equipment, face washes, and toothbrushes in bags flew by. Before he knew it everything was packed and his father was downstairs waiting.

He took one final look around, desperately holding back tears. This, however, was inevitable. He had to leave.

As he flung his bags to the floor and pulled on his worn sneakers, his father stood in the doorway. "Are you ready to go?"

No. "Yeah."

"Ok, let's go." His father picked up his car keys and unlocked the door. He looked towards the kitchen and waved to his father's girlfriend. Their relationship was complicated. She was condescending at times, self-reightous and an all round bitch, but at other times she was alright.

"Have a good couple of weeks!" She called cheerfully. "Thanks. You too." He glumly replied.

The door slammed shut and the darkness that consumed his slouched figure was not one that could be easily shut out by a door or banished by a flame. It would need a thousand walls of steel and a sky full of burning planets to make it go away.

Or an unbroken home.

-

The car ride was one of uneasy silence. Neither man spoke a word. They just watched the cars and buildings fly by. Stars littered the indigo sky although blocked out by eyewatering street lights.

There they sat. Still no words of encouragement or reassurement. Eventually the car pulled up the fateful road and came to a stop.

"Alright, well have a good couple of weeks and I'll see you then." His father smiled at him and ruffled his shaggy brunette mop. The blonde streaks had faded slightly and weren't as vibrant as before yet still visible. He nodded, bags already in hand and door half open.

"Hey."

He paused, waiting and hopeful. "Remember the word 'doppelganger'. See you later." His father grinned, watching his son cross the street and dissapear down a flight of cracked stone steps.

Seeing light and movement from the window almost brought tears back to his eyes. "Only just got here and I already don't wanna fucking be here."

With a heavy heart, he continued towards the building, opening the door into the Hellish heat within.

"...don't know. You'll need to get in touch with your current employer and get references." Conversation in the kitchen grew louder and became clearer. No one noticed as he kicked off his shoes. No one noticed his hanging head. No one noticed the pain in his green and blue eyes.

No one noticed until he tried to move away.

"Oi, Awsten, where do you think you're going?" Across the room his stepfather glared at him, already pissed just from his arrival.

Awsten cast his eyes to the floor and bit his lip. "To my room to sort myself out."

"Already? You just got here." His mother asked.

"I know, I just need a few minutes. I'm tired." A weak smile graced his face but quickly dissapeared under the intense stare of his stepfather.

Before he could leave the room, a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. "Hey, are you ok?"

There it was. Three words. From the wrong person. His mother searched his blank eyes.

No, I'm fucking sick of being here already because I know the next two weeks will just consist of hatred, anger, arguments and misery. No one in this house fucking gets along and we haven't gone one day without world war three for years. I can't even call us a family and I'm ashamed for people to know and meet you.

"Yeah, I'm just not really in a people mood right now. I just need to be alone and get settled." Lies overtook truth everytime. Awsten tried to smile again, failing, but still trying.

Behind him hushed words wafted up the stairs with him.

"He's always got attitude that kid. I don't know what's wrong with him."

"It's been seven months since the accident, why can't he just get over it?"

Awsten's fist clenched, jagged nails biting into his already scarred and calloused palm.

Because pain doesn't go away when you close your eyes.

-

Is there anything worse than feeling so alone in the place you're supposed to call home? Unmoving eyes and frozen smiles judged him from their places on the walls. Awsten's mother had framed them and hung them one Saturday.

"So you'll always have us watching over you. Protecting you."

At the time her smile had seemed so genuine; Awsten had learned the only genuine smile he ever wanted to see again wouldn't be coming back.

Gold framing glinted in dim light. That lightbulb had been on the downward spiral for a while. Not that anyone else cared.

Inside the gilded frame was a photo taken one year prior. Surrounded by a haven of pansies, lillies and luscious green grass, Awsten grinned widely as he struggled under the weight of his gangly best friend. Both boys had smiles reaching their shining eyes.

Eyes full of hope; eyes full of life. Blue and green irises not tainted by death.

"Do you remember how much it rained?" Someone asked. Awsten gazed dreamily at the picture still, unfazed by the sudden question.

"How could I forget? The weather had been perfect all week. No cloud, a shit ton of sun and warm days then about five minutes later, it bucketed." Beside the brunette, he felt the mattress dip and another boy stuck his head in front of his face, obscuring the view of the picture.

"You used to love the rain." Smiled Awsten. "It was your favourite thing."

"And I was yours." The newcomer smirked.

Awsten bit his lip and shoved the boy. "Fuck off Geoff." A light shade of pink graced his porcelain features.

The taller boy's smirked vanished with a yelp. Losing his grip on the bedsheets, his body drifted sideways and tumbled into the abyss. However, as an amused Awsten watched his friend fall, he too took a tumble when the sheets he lay on were wrenched from beneath him, causing him to become a casualty.

"You bitch." Awsten grunted, using Geoff as leverage to sit upright. Geoff rolled his aquatic eyes and dragged Awsten back down.

"Now who's a bitch?"

Awsten raised an eyebrow. "Still you dickhead."

The pair worked together to remake Awsten's bed and collapsed in a heap on top. Today was not a day for conversing. Awsten's bags still sat in the corner, unattended and forgotten. The only noise was their steady breathing mingling together to create a serenade of serenity.

"I'm not going to be able to do this."

Geoff frowned and flipped to face the smaller boy. "What do you mean?"

In this close proximity, Awsten could make out every single feature. Every smile line and tired under eye circle. Every stained tear track and chocolate smear. He'd never missed anyone more.

"I can't deal with all the arguments. All the falling outs and disagreements over every tiny thing! I can't even have a fucking drink or make my breakfast in the morning  without being shouted at just for breathing. I'll never be good enough. I never have been. I'm not." Awsten sighed and curled up closer to Geoff.

Gently, Geoff ran a soothing hand through Awsten's blondish locks. "You can do this. You've done great so far, what's a few more year-"

"WHAT'S A FEW MORE YEARS? YOU'VE BEEN GONE FOR SEVEN MONTHS AND I ALMOST DIED TWICE. HOW THE FUCK CAN I LAST FOR THREE MORE YEARS?" A burst of anger exploded from inside his chest; it was a ball of fury heading straight for the painted plaster. Leaping from the bed, Awsten's closed fist went straight into the wall.

A sickening crunch resonated around the room. His breath heavy and pulsating hand still against the wall, Awsten felt the floor vibrate. Someone was coming.

"You've made it this far, Awsten and I've always been here. You know that." Geoff stood behind him, hands outstretched.

Awsten scoffed and lowered his hand. Adrenaline rushes through his veins blocking out all pain but the one in his heart. "You've always been here. Sure. You're not eve  here right now. You fucking left me, on my own. I have NOTHING anymore."

"You think I wanted this?" What was once a reassuring and friendly tone turned harsh and hurt. "You think I wanted to be barreled into by a ten ton truck? You think I wanted to spend six months in a coma, hearing everyone who loved me sobbing? You think I wanted to be buried six feet under and turned into worm food? I didn't have a choice. I never wanted to leave you."

"Then why did you let go? You promised me. I told you I loved you and you let me down. I heard the doctors. You had a chance. They were going to do everything they could to get you to come through. You chose to let go." The tears from before flowed freely now. There was no way of stopping the voice cracks forcing their way through his pain.

"I did it to protect you."

"How can you protect me when you're dead?" As soon as the words left his lips, the footsteps stopped.

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" In the doorway stood his mother.

Awsten blinked. "No one."

His mother's confused expression morphed into anger. "Why the fuck did you punch the wall? That's going to have to be replastered and repainted. Tristan was right, you have changed and not for the better." Disgusted, his mother turned up her nose and made sure to slam the door behind her.

Heat filled his cheeks and he couldn't cool down. Cool air called to him from beyond the window panes, rattling the glass inside the frames. With a last glance at the picture beside his bed, Awsten rushed towards the window and, upon opening it, pushed his head outside it.

It almost worked. His face had cooled down but the rest of his body was still engulfed in flames. They licked his skin and melted his flesh, caressing his bones and embracing his skeleton. He needed more. Awsten planted his palms on the windowsill and used the support to heave his body up and over.

His bedroom was three stories up above a mildly busy road. Two vans and an Audi sped past at a dizzying speed. Once again Awsten's vision went blurry. The arm holding onto the frame for balance went numb as the adrenaline drained from his system.

Once more his bedroom door opened with a spew of profanities elicited from his still fuming stepfather. Awsten couldn't hear him. His fingers had failed him and gravity took over.

They say before you die your life flashes before your eyes. They also say that when you die you relive your entire life in just seven minutes.

For Awsten, he wasn't sure what was happening. All he knew was he was falling. His brain shut down and his body was unable to move. The only working part was one organ: his heart.

The seven minutes that followed were plastered with one face, one body, one life, one love, and three words.

I love you.