You Were Once Mine

by char_bear614

Summary:

What if Nick hadn't spoken to Charlie after their first kiss?

It's been 5 years since that night; the boys have long since lost touch.

Until one day Nick receives a distressing call from an unknown number, maybe it's time for things to change.

Chapter 1: I Wish I Knew Then What I Know Now

Nick — 4 September

"Oi, Nelson! Time for another birthday shot!"

I honestly don't know why I let Sai, Otis, and Christian drag me out of our apartment tonight. I was really just hoping to spend the rest of the night in bed, maybe put on The Avengers or Pirates of the Caribbean. Maybe both?

Today's just been a long day, and I'm seriously burnt out. I went to visit Mum back home and spent the morning with the dogs. Then, the girls and Darcy all surprised me with a visit to the zoo. Which, I'll admit, was probably the highlight of my day (don't tell Nellie and Henry).

Or, at least it would've been. The only thing missing was him. He wasn't there. Charlie wasn't there.

Charlie.

God, I haven't thought about him in at least five years. Actually, that's not true. I haven't been able to stop thinking about him in the last five years. Not since that night— the night I fucked up the best thing I've ever had in my life.

If it hadn't been for Harry and his big mouth, I could've—

A heavy arm wrapping around my shoulder interrupts my thoughts. By the weight of it, I can tell it's Christian. Poor sod can still barely hold his alcohol since out Truham days.

"Come on, mate! No empties allowed." He practically shouts a round of cheers in my ear, before turning to flag down the closest barmaid, ordering another round and promptly shoves a glass of beer into my hand.

I pull out my phone, carelessly scrolling past social media notifications — most of which consist of birthday wishes from nearly everyone I went to secondary with — that I honestly can't be arsed to look at properly. I stop when I see the last texts Tara and Darcy sent to our little group chat about an hour ago.

Tara🩰: You know Darcy and I are always here for you

Darcy😈: Ofc Nick-Nack, anytime my guy

Of course I know. I always have. The only other good thing —not including the mind-melting kiss with Charlie, of course — to come from Harry's 16th birthday party was the chance to reconnect with Tara and meet Darcy. They've been my closest friends since then.

Telling them about me and Charlie was the closest I've come thus far to coming to terms with my sexuality. I can now say with some semblance of confidence that I am bisexual. Also, ever since meeting Sahar, she's also helped a lot on that front.

If I'm being honest, I envy her and Imogen. The emotional journey that Imogen went through, especially after she told me she never actually liked guys but always felt the pressure to be with them, really did a number on her. I'm beyond proud of how far she's come and now she's truly openly herself, more than I've ever seen her. She and Sahar seem very happy together.

I wish I knew then what I know now. Maybe then, I'd at least have the guts to look Charlie in the eyes. Try to explain myself.

But after I ran away from him, I could never bring myself to confront him about what happened. I was beyond terrified. It also didn't help that every time I passed by him, Tao would give me the evils. I could never get much of a read on Isaac's expression, but it was somewhere between anger and sympathy.

Since then, we barely talked in form and before I knew it, here I was in an overcrowded and loud pub just outside Leeds with the only rugby lads I'd actually found myself able to call my friends, and no Charlie. However, I couldn't feel any more disconnected from these guys if I tried.

The only thing that can make me feel better is hearing his voice again.

In the next moment, my phone starts ringing.

INCOMING CALL: UNKNOWN CALLER

I should decline it. I normally would in these cases. It usually ends up being a robocall spam or a telemarketer. I'm nursing my newly filled beer in hand still, when I accept the call, putting the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

For a while, there's no answer. I look at the screen again, making sure I did press accept and didn't decline whoever's trying to reach me. I plug my other ear with my finger to see if I can hear any better while still sat in this crowded place.

"Hello?" I ask again, but there's still no response. I shouldn't be entertaining this call for too long. I should just hang up and drink more beer and get back to the—

Suddenly, there's a crash coming from the other end of the line. It startles me a bit and when I flinch, I accidentally tip my beer slightly and it drips down the side of the glass onto my hand. As I grab a napkin from a nearby stand, wiping my hand, I hear a voice.

At first they're muffled and I can't make out what they're saying. I'm beginning to believe this was just some sort of misdial. It's probably already been a few minutes into this call.

A few more seconds of silence pass, and as I move to end the call, the voice finally speaks again. This time it's a little clearer.

"H-help… please."

I'm a bit shocked and confused and speechless. They're talking much too slowly, taking deep breaths between words.

"Nick…" Another deep breath. "I'm… sorry."

It's only at the sound of my own name that I finally realised who called. It's Charlie.

Charlie.

I thought after how long it's been since we'd last talked that he would've blocked me everywhere after all this time. But he hasn't. Of course, he hasn't — it's Charlie.

"I'm sorry," Charle says again, and it snaps me back into the present moment.

"Charlie, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says again, this time his voice cracks growing more wobbly between each apology. Is he crying? Why does he keep apologising?

Fuck, I need to get out of here. I need to make sure he's okay. I need to find him.

"Charlie," I say slowly, trying to keep him calm even as my heart rate starts to pick up in the wake of my increasing panic. "Where are you right now?"

There's no response, but suddenly my phone pings with a text. It's from the unknown number — from Charlie — with a pin on his location. It's not far, at least a ten minute walk from here.

I take a few bills from my wallet, slamming them on the bar and pushing myself up off the stool. I think I hear someone, maybe Otis, calling after me as I run out of the pub. But I can barely hear anything over the ringing in my ears and the beating of my heart ever so increasing, I'm surprised no one else can hear it.

Only one thing is on my mind right now. Only one thing matters.

Charlie.

I have to get to Charlie.

Chapter 2: Maybe I Do Just Ruin People's Lives

Summary:

events leading up to the N&C phone call

Notes:

this chapter took me longer than expected to write, but I'm finally satisfied where it ended (maybe satisfied isn't the right term considering the following warnings but c'est la vie <3)

CW — Charlie's mental health, mentions of past self-harm, depression, brief non-con touching, abuse

Charlie — 4 September (earlier that day)

“I can’t leave you alone for one minute, can I?”

I nearly drop the broken pieces of glass in my hand, from the vase I knocked over in the haste of my morning routine, at the sound of Ben’s voice.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I stammer out, bracing myself for the fury I know always comes when I mess things up. “I was just– I was– um…”

“You were just what?” Ben spat, growing more irritated by the second. “Spit it out, Charlie. I’m not a fucking mind reader.”

I take a deep breath, staring at my feet, trying to steady my racing heart.

“I was just trying to tidy up a bit. I know your parents are coming over soon, so I just wanted everything to be perfect for when they get here.”

For a moment there’s silence, and it terrifies me. Ben — when he’s this quiet — terrifies me.

He’s gonna hit me. He’s gonna hit me. Please don’t hit me.

Then, he huffs a breath and I hear him walking closer until he’s standing in front of me. I try not to flinch when he brings a hand up.

Please, please, please.

It isn’t until he hooks a finger under my chin, tipping my head up to look at him properly, that I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

He doesn’t look angry with me. His face has actually softened a bit. Maybe I didn’t fuck up as bad as I thought. I give Ben a shy smile, hoping to further ease his mood.

He chuckles. “You’re so cute.” He leaned down to kiss me, and I felt butterflies burst in my stomach. A knock at the door interrupts us — Ben’s parents. When he pulls back, I feel a bit dazed. I sense a shift in his demeanour — his eyes look glossed over and he’s not smiling anymore.

He licks his lips, maintaining eye contact, and I could swear a ghost of a smile past his lips. It’s at least an improvement from wiping his lips with his hand, I guess. We’re taking baby steps, like he said.

Ben crosses the room to open the door, and is immediately enveloped in a hug by his mother. “Hello, darling,” she greets him, placing a kiss atop his head. His father just grunts his greeting as he shrugs off his coat, tossing it over his shoulder at Ben with barely a second look.

Always a pleasure, Mr. Hope.

Mrs. Hope turns towards me. “Oh, and you must be—”

“You remember my friend, Charlie, don’t you, Mum?” Ben interrupts her.

And there it is. Friend.

“Ah, yes, Charlie. How are you, dear?” She holds out her hand towards me and I take it, giving a reluctant shake and glancing at Ben, who’s busy hanging his father’s coat on the coat rack. As if the man isn’t grown enough to do it himself.

“Charles.” Mr. Hope gives me a curt nod. I have to suppress a shudder at the use of my full name. He makes a show of looking around the whole room as if for an inspection. Without looking at anyone in particular he says, “Can I have a moment with my son? Alone?”

Ben turns towards me, his first acknowledgement towards me since they’ve arrived, and gives the briefest of nods.

“Right, of course. I have some work stuff to finish up anyways, so…” I don’t finish my sentence, and no one is really paying me any mind anyhow, so I make my way towards my home office space.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

I make use of my free time to finish some edits I had to catch up on, which keeps me busy for the better part of just over an hour. I decided to break for some tea, the break much needed from the many grammatical errors in the latest YA werewolf novel. I pause when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

Ben’s and Mr. Hope’s voices carry from the kitchen.

“I told you, Dad, I’m happy where I am,” Ben says, sounding exasperated. “Why can’t you just accept that?”

“Because I just don’t understand why you’re settling down with one of your old school mates.” Mr. Hope says this as if the words leave a bad taste in his mouth. “Why haven’t you found a nice girl to start a family with?”

Mrs. Hope sighs deeply, “Oh, Richard, I told you not to bring this up again. Benjamin says he’s happy here. If he changes his mind at some point, that should be on his own terms. Right, dear?”

I hear Ben huff a breath. “Okay, Dad. Fine, you’re right. I just haven’t met the right girl yet, that’s all.”

I can’t believe he’d say that. Would he actually leave me?

I don’t wait to hear anymore of the conversation as I’m already making my way back upstairs. Suddenly, I’m no longer in the mood for tea. Just the thought makes me feel ill. I can’t bring myself to go back to editing either so I just hole myself up in the bedroom. I curl myself into a ball in the corner of the bed under the duvet.

Now would be a perfect time for me to use my drums, but I left my kit at my parents’ house when I moved out for uni. And Ben wouldn’t let me have any space to move it into— said it was pointless.

Ben, who once told me that one day he’d finally come out to his parents and tell them the truth about us and we’d finally be happy together. Ben, who lied to me once before back at Truham about having a girlfriend whilst stringing me along like some lost puppy. Ben, who refuses to tell anyone the truth about us— refuses to acknowledge the status of our relationship in the real world.

I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being his secret. I want to feel wanted— not just when we’re alone, but when we’re out with friends or with family. I want to feel like I actually matter to him and like I mean something to him like I always thought I did. At least, until now. Now, I’m just waiting for the day he decides to leave me for good. Which from the looks of it, seems like it might be sooner than later.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

I don’t know how long I’ve been lost in my thoughts, but the next thing I hear is the front door open and close. Ben’s parents must have just left then. I wish I’d had the energy to bid them farewell, but after earlier I can’t be bothered. I close my eyes as footsteps make their way upstairs, finding myself to be quite exhausted more than usual.

The bedroom door opens gently, then the bed dips with Ben’s weight as he slides under the duvet behind me, snaking an arm around my waist spooning me. He doesn’t say anything, just starts kissing the back of my neck.

“Ben…” My voice comes out as a moan, against my better judgement. I’m really not in the mood right now. I feel his lips curl in a smirk and his arm tightens pulling me closer to him and he continues kissing my neck. I can feel his erection poking into my lower back as he starts grinding it into me.

“Ben, stop.” I try to squirm out of his grasp, but his grip remains steady. He’s always been stronger than me, and he’s never let me forget it.

“Come on, Charlie. I’m just trying to be nice.” Ben’s hand moves from my waist to the seam of my trousers, lightly tracing the edge with his fingers.

I groan slightly at Ben’s definition of “nice.”

Right, only because we’re alone again.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ben’s hand freezes where it’s partly tucked into my briefs, likely where I am sporting a semi.

Dammit I must’ve said that out loud.

Ben moves to sit up, pure anger steadily growing on his face. I can’t help but stare a bit dumbfounded at him. God, I’m already fucking this up.

I must’ve zoned out again because Ben suddenly grabs my face, hard, pulling me close so I’m only inches away from him.

“What. The fuck. Did you. Just. Say?” He repeats slowly, his eyes staring daggers into mine. I’m scared of what he’ll do to me if I look away, but right now, nothing frightens me more than the way he’s looking at me in this moment— eyes narrowed, jaw set, the hand still holding my face squeezing tighter by the second.

“I just—” I let out a shuddered breath. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear,” I continue, softly.

“Well, how exactly did you mean it, Charlie?” He finally lets go of my face, quite aggressively, as he shuffles himself off of the bed. He starts pacing the room, while I massage my jaw. Wow, that really hurt.

“Jesus, what the fuck do you want from me?” Ben shouts, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ve already told you, my parents aren’t like yours. I can’t come out to them.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

The question surprises me just as much as it does Ben, and we both just stare at each other for a moment.

“You know what? I don’t need this. I don’t need you.” Ben moves to the closet, grabbing a duffel bag and starts shoving a bunch of his clothes into it. “I’m gonna stay at a friend’s for a bit. Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

The “when” felt more like an “if” and my heart sinks.

No, no, no, no, no. Please don’t leave me. He can’t leave. I can fix this. I have to fix this.

Ben has moved to the en suite by the time I scramble out of the bed after him. He’s grabbing his toothbrush, shoving it into the bag next. I block him inside.

“Wait, Ben, please!” I plead, tears stinging my eyes that I try my best to hold back. “Please, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I swear I really didn’t mean anything by what I said. I was just tired, and then you were touching me, and it sort of fell out and—”

My rambling is interrupted by a sudden shearing pain in my cheek and I stumble to the floor. When I bring a hand up to my lips, it comes away bloody.

I almost can’t believe Ben has just punched me. I’m reminded of the time Ben pushed me up against a wall in the Truham corridor. Sometimes I still get flashes back to that moment, thinking about what would’ve happened if Nick hadn’t saved me.

Well, he’s not here now, is he?

Ben is really starting to yell now, but I can barely make out the words over the ringing in my ears.

“…I never liked you. I just felt really sorry for you.” When I can’t muster up a response other than a moan of pain, he kicks me in the stomach. I let out a yelp, curling in on myself. My tears are flooding my face now.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I plead through my tears. My eyes are shut tight, my body curled up as small as I can make it, rocking back and forth, my chanting apologies are the only thing I hear.

When I’ve managed to calm myself down, I uncurl myself only to realise that Ben is long gone.

Shit.

Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why do I always have to ruin everything? Why can’t I just be normal?

Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have gotten outed at school. Maybe Mum and Dad would love me like they used to. Maybe Tori wouldn't have to worry about me all the time, and I wouldn't freak out Olly. Maybe Nick would still be my friend.

Maybe I do just ruin people's lives.

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

I stumble my way into the en suite and take in my reflection in the mirror. I hardly even recognise who I am anymore. I’m just a fragile, broken mess who keeps burdening everyone.

Maybe it would be better if I just…

I’ve already opened the drawer before I finished my thought.

I could make everyone’s life so much better. I can’t hurt anyone else once I’m gone. I’ve never gone that deep before. It all just feels so pointless now.

I can’t help that I feel trapped in my own mind. I feel like it’s time.

I run the bath for a few minutes, making sure it’s warm enough before I step inside. As I lie back in the water, I think of all those that I’m freeing.

Myself.

Ben.

Mum and Dad.

Tori and Olly.

And Nick.

Nick…

I still owe him an apology for the biggest mistake I made five years ago. Better late than never, right?

I reach for my phone, scrolling until I reach his contact, and hit the dial button…

Chapter 3: He Has to be Okay

Summary:

Nick arrives at Charlie's place and Tara and Darcy come to help/support him

Notes:

a bit late on this week's update, life got in the way, but hey we made it to chapter 3!

CW— self harm injuries, blood

Nick — 4 September (continued)

My feet are pounding against the pavement at the speed at which I’m headed toward Charlie’s. Sometime between me leaving the pub the call with Charlie disconnected. Every time I try calling him back it goes straight to his voicemail.

I’m really starting to worry now. He sounded bad on that call. Who knows what state he’ll be in when I find him? By the time I reach the end of the block, I switch from the SatNav to text Tara and Darcy.

Nick🏉: SOS I think Charlie is in trouble

Darcy😈: WHAT

Tara🩰: Tell us how to help

Nick🏉: Meet me here

 

I share the pinned location Charlie sent me by the time I finally reach his place. I bang on the door, albeit a bit aggressively considering how late it is, but fuck it. This is Charlie we’re talking about.

“Charlie! Charlie, it’s Nick!” I shout. “Can you hear me? Charlie! Are you okay? Charlie, please, open the door!” I continue my assault for another few minutes on the door when a neighbour, an elderly woman, comes shuffling out.

“Can I help you, dear?” she asks, her voice a bit scratchy from the bit of sleep she got, pushing up her glasses from the bridge of her nose.

My hand freezes midair as I look in her direction. A wave of guilt washes over me as I take in the state of her— a mixture of drowsiness, concern, and fear cloud over her features.

“I’m sorry, miss. Do you know if  Charlie Spring lives here? He called me, and he sounded really terrible, and I ran over here as soon as I could, but he won’t answer the door, and he won’t pick up my calls, and I’m really worried about him.” By the time I get all of this out, tears have pricked my eyes, my chest is heaving not only from my exertion. I collapse against the door, clutching my chest, trying to take deep breaths.

The woman seems to take pity on me as her eyes soften a bit. She makes her way across the path towards me, patting my shoulder gently. She reaches into the pocket of her dressing gown, pulling out a small chain with a key attached.

“Charlie gave me this spare set in case of emergencies,” she says as she goes to unlock the door. “After what happened earlier with Benjamin, I figured I might be needing it soon— just wanted to give him some time to recover for himself.”

Hearing that name makes my blood run cold.

Ben? Charlie went back to Ben?!

What could he have possibly said to convince Charlie to take him back after what he’d done? How long were they together? How long was Ben continuing to sink his claws into Charlie using him? Why didn’t I notice anything sooner?

I shake these thoughts out of my head by the time the woman finally gets the door open. I murmur my appreciation as I make my way inside. No lights are on in the living room or kitchen, so I make my way upstairs.

“Charlie?” I call out, looking around, unsure of which way to go. I look between the few rooms before making my way towards what I presume is the master bedroom, where the door is left ajar.

I push my way in and stop dead in my tracks.

There’s water seeping through the crack of the door from the en suite.

“No…”

When I rush to push open the door, the scene laid out in front of me nearly makes my heart stop. Charlie is laying in the bath, he almost looks like he’s sleeping. The water is slowly turning red, mixing with his blood as it floods over the edge.

I move to his side, pulling him out. By the time I have him splayed out on top of me, both of us soaked, I hear footsteps rushing towards us.

“Nick?!” a voice calls out.

“In here! I need help!” I shout, as I feel for a pulse on Charlie’s neck. It’s weak, but it’s better than nothing.

The footsteps approach, and Tara appears in the doorway, eyes widening when she sees the state Charlie is in. She immediately drops to her knees by my side.

“I already called 999— an ambulance should be here soon,” she says, her voice calm, a steady presence as I try to settle my growing panic.

The paramedics arrive in no less than 5 minutes, immediately getting to work on Charlie’s wounds, then strapping him to the stretcher. Tara and I rush after them as they carry Charlie down the stairs and strap him into the trolley.

We quickly make our way to Darcy, where they’re waiting in the driver’s seat of the car. Tara buckles herself into the passenger seat in front, as I pile myself into the back, nearly slamming the door shut.

“Follow that ambulance,” I say, without much proper greeting to Darcy. Surely they understand the severity of the situation. I’ll apologise to them later. My mind is only on getting back to Charlie.

Tara turns towards me from the front seat as Darcy starts following close behind the ambulance. She rests a hand on my knee, squeezing reassuringly. “It’ll be alright, Nick. He’ll be alright.”

I nod, not really sure I can bring myself to speak anymore without breaking down.

I know he’ll be okay.

He has to be okay.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

As soon as we pull up to the A&E, I stumble out of the car just as the paramedics are rushing Charlie down a corridor behind some glass doors. I hurriedly make my way towards the front desk. “Erm, excuse me, sorry, I was just— I was just wondering about— about my… friend? He was just brought, er, in here a few seconds ago, and—”

The nurse stops my babbling, placing a soothing hand over my shaking ones, her voice coming out with practised calm, “It’s okay, luv. Just breathe, in and out, yeah?” I follow her direction, taking a shaky, deep breath in and letting it out slowly. “Good, now, can you tell me what’s his name?”

“Charlie. Charlie Spring,” I say, tapping my fingers at the counter, waiting as the nurse searches on her computer.

“Ah, okay, it looks like Mr Spring is still in the midst of getting processed.” She looks up from the computer, a soft smile on her face. “You are more than welcome to have a seat in the waiting room, and someone should be round sometime shortly with an update for you. Okay, dear?”

I nod gratefully and make my way over, plopping myself down on one of the waiting room chairs with a slight squelch— my clothes still damp from the bath. I heave out a long sigh as I rest my head against the wall behind me, closing my eyes.

I only open them again when I feel a presence on either side of me. Tara and Darcy have sandwiched me between them, each holding one of my hands and resting their heads on my shoulders.

None of us say another word to each other. We don’t really need to. Right now isn’t about us. It’s about Charlie.

Don’t worry, Charlie. I won’t leave you— not again.

Notes:

I always appreciate kudos and everyone's comments! 🖤