Work Text:
Alfred is sitting on his bed in the dark. He stares at the wall, the posters of nerdy movies, and his guitar. Ah, his guitar. It's the object he loves most in life. He smiles just by looking at it.
The only light in the room comes from the window, which is illuminated by the faint moonlight. 3 a.m., everyone is asleep now, except for him. Every night is the same. Insomnia sucks.
Blood.
No, don't do that. Don't even think about it. You know it's not healthy, it's not good, and it only makes you worse.
His chest tighens.
Just once.
Don't.
Please.
You'll regret it.
Just once. I swear.
He sighs and turns on the radio to try and hear something that will make him feel better.
Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around
Seriously? This is the worst song that could be playing right now. He lets out a shaky breath. "This is my last time. Promise." He tells himself. He always says that. Everytime. And he lies.
He forces himself out of bed and puts his feet on the cold floor. He walks over to his desk and opens the drawer. He takes a comic book from the bottom and opens it. There it is, a hidden blade.
He picks up the blade and stares at it, hesitating. He knew he was going to do it anyway, regardless of whether he hesitated.
"Don't be a coward..." He hisses to himself, holding the blade with trembling hands. "I'll feel better." He whispers. He's scared. He never was before, so why is he now?
He slowly brings the blade to his arm.
"Just once."
He shut his eyes.
"Just... once..." He finally runs the blade across his arm.
He acted without thinking, and blood began to trickle down his arm and between his fingers. He couldn't help but grimace at the blood dripping down his arm like a red waterfall.
Soon enough, his white desk has a pool of bright red blood in it. But he didn't stop there. No, it's not enough.
He runs the blade across his arm again. Faster.
Again.
3 cuts now.
It wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough for him.
His vision blurs with the tears that form in his eyes. He grips the blade so tightly that his finger turns red, and slowly runs the blade across his arm.
That hurt more than he expected. He hiss on pain, and quickly slams his hand on the cut.
After some seconds, he slowly removes his hand from the cut and watches the blood oozing out, his palm covered in bright red blood. His hands start to shake.
It was too deep.
He'd never reached this level before. And it hurts. A lot.
He watches the blood trickle down his arm and drip onto the table. How was he going to hide that? Someone would definitely notice.
How would he explain it? Blood from the table begins to drip onto the floor, and his arm is still dripping too.
Usually cutting himself like this worked to do just that, but now it was just making everything worse. No one can know. No one can notice. Please, don't let anyone notice.
His cell phone screen lights up. He looks at his cell phone, next to him on the table. He picks up his cell phone. Who would be texting him at 3 a.m.?
| Kiku: Alfred. Are you okay?
| Kiku: You didn't text me today.
He starts crying even harder. Crying silently, of course. He didn't want anyone waking up and seeing his current state.
He picks up his cell phone.
| Alfred: Dude its 3 am
| Alfred: Shouldt you be sleeping :P
| Kiku: I'm kinda woried about you.
| Alfred: Me? Why
| Kiku: You didn't text me today.
| Kiku: You text me every day.
| Alfred: Aww, you miss me :D
| Alfred: Since when youre this clingy
| Kiku: Are you okay?
Alfred stares at the screen. Three simple words. He wipes away his tears.
| Alfred: Yep
| Alfred: Dw about me dude
| Kiku: Okay.
| Kiku: If you need to talk, please call me.
| Kiku: Go to sleep.
| Alfred: Insomnia D:
| Kiku: Take a pill.
| Kiku: If you don't sleep, it will only make things worse.
| Kiku: I am going to sleep now, 良い夢見てね.
Alfred types “goodnight”, but doesn’t send it. He sets the phone face-down anyway.
Could today be the day? Maybe.
But his friends would be devastated. His family too. But at this point, he doesn't care that much.
But still, deep down in his heart, he cares. And that's why he picks up his cell phone and dials 988. He was nervous to talk to someone, even if he didn't know them.
He stopped crying, but his hands were still trembling. The phone rung for a bit, until someone picked up.
| ???: Hello?
And now? What should he say?
| Alfred: I called by accident
God damn it Alfred, what the heck is wrong with you?! Accept help!
| ???: Are you sure?
| Alfred: ...100%.
| ???: Are you in danger?
Tell the truth.
| Alfred: ...Maybe. It depends.
| ???: It depends on what?
| Alfred: What do you consider a danger?
| ???: Hurting yourself.
Well, he already did.
| ???: ...Sir?
He got lost in thought.
| Alfred: Oh, uhm, sorry. I'm here.
She kept asking questions and talking, and he began to get lost in his thoughts again. Every once and a while the woman's voice on the phone snapped him back from his thoughts.
| ???: Sir, is this a prank?
He turns to the screen. Prank?
| Alfred: Sorry?
| ???: Sir, this is a serious hotline.
| Alfred: I know, I—
| ???: Please, take us seriously.
She hung up. What the hell was that? Was this really what the suicide hotline was for? This was bullshit. Total bullshit.
But she was right. How could anyone take a guy like him seriously?
He should do it.
He grabs a gun from the wall. He hopes no neighbors will wake up because of him. He has a large collection of weapons, big ones, small ones, bullets of all sizes...
He loads the smallest one he has. The gun makes a noise.
He picks up the cell phone that's been on the table the whole time.
He opens the family group chat. Alfred, Matthew, Francis, and Arthur.
What would Matt say? They've always been so close. But he's already convinced, and almost desperate.
| Alfred: I love you guys
| Alfred: Im sorry
He holds his phone and stares at the message. Everyone's offline. Of course, it's 3 a.m. He sighs.
He starts the chat with Kiku.
| Alfred: Dude im sorry
| Alfred: Sorry for not talking to you
| Alfred: Sorry i didnt talk to you while we still had time
| Kiku: What?
| Kiku: Alfred, what is going on?
He turns off the screen.
He slowly brings the gun up to his chin. He was hesitating. For someone who had been so desperate for death just minutes ago, he was so... reluctant? Ironic, isn't it?
His eyes fill with tears. He closes his eyes and can hear Kiku calling him.
He pulls the trigger.
BANG!
.
| Kiku: Alfred, please answer.
| Kiku: Alfred?
| Kiku: You're making me worried.
| Kiku: Please.
| Kiku: Don't leave me like that.
| Kiku: Please don't.
| Matthew: Sorry for what?
| Matthew: I woke up to your notification, why are you awake at 3am?
| Matthew: Alfred?