Onimikeler oneshot:

Notes

Plot: Tyler finds some old papers

-...-

He was 22 years old.

He was a 22 year old man, sitting alone in his dull house, which he didn't properly own, in a dark room, sad. Well, depressed. He was at the kitchen table, in the seat at the far end of the table. He didn't buy the large table. It would have been stupid for a man planning to live alone to buy a table that could probably seat five or six. One of the chairs that went with it was broken. The table came with the house. The chairs he was given by his neighbor, an old woman who had nowhere else to take them.

The man stared down at the notebook papers that were on the table in front of him, and the pen he'd just put down. He was shaking, and he was sobbing. He wrote down all of his feelings, he addressed all that he could think of. It was a recording of him and his personal thoughts, his mental struggles. There were not many people who would care about what it had to say. Maybe the nice old women, or his friend that lived in an apartment complex across town, but that was it.

The letters were mainly for them.

The man stood up and walked across the house, to his bedroom, with his hands shaking. He walked with them in his pockets to try to control them. He closed the door to his room. He walked into the bathroom, and avoided looking at the mirror.

He wasn't calm. He wasn't okay. He had tears blurring his vision and his heart was pounding in his chest and he was a complete mess. Everything was a mess. His arms hurt, no his legs hurt, no it was his head. No, it was everything. Or maybe not. He was thinking about everything at once, everything he had written about, everything that he'd felt, everything that he'd gone through.

Yeah, he was going to do this.

He wasn't sure how many of those pills he swallowed, he nearly choked on them downing them. He took a lot of them, enough to be sure it'd get the job done.

He took a drink of water before looking into the mirror.

There was no turning back.

He was ready to die.

-...-

"You know, you could always spend a day cleaning the shit hole that is our room." Tyler said, picking up around their bedroom.

Onity stood nearby, taking out and folding the clothes in the drawers. "The fact that I don't have a job doesn't mean I'm not busy. I've found quite a friendship with Ms.View helping her sort donations."

"Ms. View doesn't need your help 24/7. Our room does. God, it fucking smells in here." Tyler frowned. "I don't think this house has ever been fucking cleaned."

"You've only noticed it now?" Onity asked.

"I'm only complaining about it now."

"Now that you have to clean it?"

"U-huh."

"You seem like the kind of person who didn't clean his room and just Febrezed the entire thing." Onity smiled.

Tyler, who'd had some dirty laundry in his arms, turned and glared at Onity. Onity looked over and his smiled grew.

"I'm right!"

"Shuut the fuck up." Tyler walked over to the laundry basket near the door.

"I bet Amy loved to walk into your room and face a heavy smell of fresh pressed apple or lemon or something like that."

"Alright, alright. At least I grew up taking showers though." Tyler continued to work, walking around the room, finding a few socks.

"Onis don't need showers."

"Yes you fucking do! You smelled horrible when you go here!"

"It's only years of earth smell rubbing off on me."

"Which only proves my point, dumbass."

"You're so loving."

"It's my specialty."

Tyler placed the extra socks with the laundry and began to walk towards the bathroom to start cleaning around there, but stopped when he realized something. They, off to the side of the bathroom, also had a closet.

"You know, I don't ever think we've really used this thing." Tyler said, walking over and opening the door.

"The closet? No, I don't believe we do." Onity replied, closing a drawer and opening another full of work shirts, beginning to sort through them.

Tyler looked inside the closet, which was a really small space. You couldn't really walk inside of it without being squished. Most of the stuff inside were old dress shoes and an interview outfit, and boxes. There was a low shelf that was covered in dust, as well as a few other items.

"Find anything, captain?" Onity asked.

"Uh, some of the boxes are mine. I shoved a bunch of things in here when I first moved in. That being said... I don't remember seeing some of these other things in here."

Tyler pulled a few things off the shelf. Dusting off a jar, he found it contained quarters and pennies and dimes, as well as some arcade tokens. Tyler placed that over on the bed, knowing they'd be cleaning out the dusty ass closet too, so might as well not put it back. Tyler then pulled off some books, one being a horror novel and the other an empty notebook with some numbers scribbled inside. One of the numbers was his own.

Tyler placed the stuff on top of the boxes as he reached for the last thing on the shelf, a folder. The folder was green, and Tyler opened it to find a lot pieces of notebook paper, all heavily written on. The pen was a blue crappy pen, and the dust made Tyler sneeze.

"Aww, he sneezed." Onity purred.

"So what?" Tyler replied, already knowing the answer he would get.

"Tyler's sneezes are cute."

Tyler was about to put away the folder, normally not really caring to read everything in all the papers and documents they found, but something about these papers caught his attention. In the heading of the paper on top, a heading that would make anyone pause and reread, was "Suicide Note". Tyler frowned and all of his thoughts turned their attention to the papers. Standing there, Tyler took out the papers from the folder, resting the folder on the boxes with the other items.

Tyler read through the first page, seeing it dated at the top right corner. The paper had been written years ago, and by the hand writing, Tyler knew exactly who wrote it. The note, as he read on, was long a detailed and very personal. Horribly personal.

Onity noticed a rather strange silence and stillness come from Tyler, glancing over at the man, but otherwise continuing to his cleaning.

The note read "Last night I got fired from my job, which has been my 20th job since being kicked out 3 years ago. I can't fucking do it. I'm losing my ability to have a place to live, I'm losing my ability to keep friends, I'm losing my ability to function. I'm a worthless piece of shit to society, I can't do anything right. I've even picked up drinking, as if smoking cigarettes wasn't bad enough. I'm destroying myself so I might as well just fucking put an end to it. I'm gonna fucking kill myself, fucking finally.

I'm writing all this shit down because I know some people who deserve an answer. I'm so fucking sorry I'm a shitty friend and a shitty ex, Jeremy. You were nothing but nice to me and I'm so fucking happy that you're making friends again and that I was able to know you a second time. If I could, I'd say sorry to Doll too, all I ever fucking did was get into fights at school and she still bothered with me. All I've done is spread drama and a negativity and I've been no good just living on people's couches and I have my own place fucking finally but I can't give back and I can't even be trusted with Ms. View's god damn table. Tell her when I'm dead that he table was the light in my dull home.

I'm sorry for letting my mom down, and I'm sorry my siblings will look into the obituary and find their little brother in it, and I'm sorry to whatever I'm giving up in my future when I do this. Did this. But none of it's worth it. I'm not fucking stable and nobody is ever going to want to be with me. Mom and Dad didn't want me, my siblings ignored me most my childhood, I've lost every friend I've ever had. I've lost every job I've ever had. Dying is only ending it before it gets worse..."

The papers went on and on, at points repeating themselves. The farther into the papers, the worse and worse the writing and hand writing got. But Tyler didn't get very far, he couldn't read this. It was painful to read the complete and utter loss of hope and confidence someone he loves dearly once experienced.

"Tyler?" Onity watched as Tyler walked over to the bed, sitting on the side, his head down, papers in his hands.

Tyler would say something, but he wiped away the tears forming in his eyes, placing his glasses to the side of him. Onity saw this and dropped the clothes in his hands, making his way over to Tyler.

"What's wrong?" Onity asked, now very concerned. Tyler isn't someone who easily cries.

Tyler handed Onity the paper that he read, looking back down at the other papers in his hands. Onity took the paper and, standing in front of Tyler, read through it. It quickly became apparent to Onity why Tyler was crying. It breaks his heart to hear from Mike when he's depressed, but these notes were a whole lot worse. This was Mike during a darker time, a time more lonely and empty. This was Mike at his worst, written on paper. All these horrible things he was saying about himself were things Tyler hated to hear. Things Onity hated to hear.

What really got them though was that this was a suicide note. They know Mike has had suicidal thoughts, Mike's admit to that, but Mike's never really admitted to trying to commit suicide. Onity read farther then Tyler did, Onity reading on about how much Mike had wanted to die, and how he was going to do it. He was going to overdose on a mixture of medical drugs. Onity really didn't know many of them, but he was sure Tyler would know them all, as well as what each one did and how they would be able to kill someone given the right dosage.

"O-Onity."

Onity looked up when Tyler leaned forward, grabbing onto Onity's arm, either to help hold himself or for the contact. It was for the contact. Tyler was sobbing, unable to talk, as he motioned the other papers to Onity. Onity sat next to Tyler, placing his arm around the human while taking the other papers from Tyler. Tyler leaned into Onity's embrace, his head on Onity's shoulder.

"Onity, look." Tyler's voice was quiet as he motioned towards the paper on top of the group he'd given him just now.

Onity looked at this other paper Tyler'd handed him, finding the date a few days after the other one.

It read

"It didn't work.

I woke up three days later. My everything hurts but I guess I didn't down enough pills to die. My head fucking hurts. I can't really focus. I'm starving.

Anyway, I don't think anyone really tried to reach me. I've managed to sleep for three days without anyone breaking down my door, it guess. I got a text from Jeremy half an hour before waking up, I haven't read it yet. The light from my phone blinded me for a bit.

I don't know what I'm doing here. Or why I'm writing this."

The note ends there.

Onity sighed, his arm with the papers dropping to his lap. He looked over to Tyler, who didn't move from his side.

"I didn't know he tried. I-....I didn't know he actually tried to do it and the only, the only fucking reason he's here is he knows shit about medicine." Tyler tried to talk. As he did, he sniffled, tears still falling down his face.

Onity didn't know what to say. He didn't know these things either, obviously, and he wasn't very well informed on how to comfort Tyler about this. He wasn't the best at understanding human emotions. He honestly was very much the opposite of Mike in these letters. Onity's the human embodiment of optimism. Mike, in these papers, is not. Onity ran his hand slowly up and down Tyler's arm in a comforting way.

"What if he hadn't woken up." Tyler cried into Onity.

"He did. That's all that matters. And he's here, with us, and he's so much happier." Onity whispered back.

The two sat there, together, as Tyler continued to cry and Onity continued to comfort them. They weren't going to continue cleaning, not at the moment. Tyler, at some point, grabbed back the papers, but instead of reading the, he hugged them. There were lots of papers. There were probably other notes, but what they were notes for Tyler didn't want to know.

The door to the bedroom, though not originally closed, was pushed open.

"Hey, guys, I can't find the ladder. I'm not tall enough to reach the top of the cabinets and I think there might be ants up there." Mike walked in, now standing at the doorway.

Onity looked back over at Mike, only for Mike to see something wasn't right. He didn't know, but he instantly started worrying. What happened? Are they okay? Is Tyler crying? Why would he be crying? Something's got to be wrong. When Mike got to that side of the bed, Tyler looked up at him, and Mike's worry grew. Tyler's face was puffy from crying and his eyes were red and glossy and he'd taken his glasses off somewhere.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked.

Tyler moved from Onity's shoulder and reached out, pulling Mike towards him and hugging him, his head now on Mike's chest. Mike was confused, but hugged Tyler back. Eventually though Mike pulled away slightly.

"What happened?" Mike asked.

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're alive." Tyler took a deep breath in and out.

Mike didn't get it until he looked over to Onity and saw the papers Onity had.

"O-oh. You found those." Mike felt himself turn cold at the sight of them. He'd forgotten all about writing them. He'd forgotten about his attempt. He turned to Tyler, and looked at Onity, who he was sure felt bad too, and tried to say something. "I'm sorry, I-"

Tyler shushed him, but softly rather then a loud disapproving one.

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're alive." Tyler repeated.

Mike sighed. He couldn't remember what he'd written in them, but It had to have been bad to hurt Tyler so much. Onity reached out and grabbed his hand and with that he was pulled forward, on to the bed. Tyler wrapped his arms around Mike's arm and cuddled into his side, unable to let Mike go at the moment, unable to have him or anyone return to their house cleaning. Onity cuddled into Mike's other side. Mike looked up at the ceiling, laying with the two loves of his life, the room silent for the fan above. The two meant so much to him. They were everything to him. They were what made him happy to be alive every day.

"I love you guys." Mike said, closing his eyes and enjoying the comfort of the two.

"We love you, Mike." Onity said and Tyler muttered into his arm.

-...-