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Seeing is Believing

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Connor didn't ever get his parents, nor did he ever think his parents would understand him. People say it's a teenager thing. That he'll see how stupid he was in the future.

But honestly, who the fuck cares?

To him ever since he started, he knew there was no going back. The feel of a cigarette in his hand, the smell of smoke, the nicotine in his body. It's all apart of him now.

Of course he got too careless, but being high just was one of the best feelings and he couldn't stop himself. But he didn't remember his sister suddenly being there and telling his parents. All he knew was that he had to spend all of May in rehab.

It was easy to get by, honestly, the only people who talk to you were doctors and councilors. Everyone else seemed to already know what a big shit-hole that place was. And that this probably wouldn't be the last time they'd be here.

And Connor knew it too as the very first night he got back, he got a discount with his dealer. He was higher than he had ever been. It was amazing, it was like the rest of the universe didn't exist. Who cares about his parents, his sister, or heck, anyone? It wasn't long before everything was just a blur.

But suddenly the world said "fuck you" and despite not remembering coming home. He found himself in his bed waking up at 3 in the afternoon, starving. But as he opened his eyes he could see a faint glow from his arms.

As he sat up, he realized he didn't even bother with getting changed it seemed. With him wearing his favorite black jacket, his favorite MCR shirt, and his over-loved scruffy jeans. But he could see them almost as clear as day. Lines all over his jacket.

'Ugh, what's this?' He thought to himself, he tried to brush it off, he suddenly stopped as felt a shock burst through his hand.

"Ah!" He yelled. "What the hell?!"

"Connor? Are finally awake?" He heard his sister call.

"Fuck." He muttered as he started pulling his jacket off. "Yeah, yeah. I'm awake."

He then heard the door open, he looked to see Zoe. She looked just the same as she usually did. She wore a fluttery white shirt with what he always assumed to be her favorite skirt.

But he could see it.

The blue that was over her clothing. Small bits on her shoulders and couple bigger ones on her stomach. But instead of lines, they were circles and they seemed to be a lighter color.

"What's up with you? You're not high are you?" She said with annoyance.

Well, being high would explain a lot…

"You have something…" he pointed to where the biggest circle was that looked to be on the left of her belly button.

She looked at it shirt, right at the spot, curiously wiped at it. It didn't do anything. Not even a reaction of a shock like he had.

"Did I get it?" She asked.

"Uhhh…" Connor hesitated, the spot was still clearly there. But she seem to notice? Was she blind? Or was it just apart of the outfit. Or worst of all… was he going nuts?

"Yeah, yeah you got it." Connor took sudden interest in the wall. His grey wall that had a couple of his favorite band posters.

"Okay, well. Mom says to come down stairs." Zoe said.

"I'll be there in a sec." Connor said, still not looking at her. Zoe scoffed and left the room.

Connor sighed as he laid back down on his bed, he stared at the ceiling. Never wanting to move, he then realized brought his hands to cover his eyes. He saw them.

He must be dreaming.

Now that he wasn't wearing his jacket, it was bolder. Each line you could see. It illuminated over his arms of about a couple centimeters. But now Connor see that this placement wasn't at all unfamiliar.

Because if you looked underneath the glow, you can see that bold lines that he himself made.

His scars.

Damn it.

He instinctively tried to cover them up with his hand. But was instantly reminded of the shock it gave and pulled back. He took his jacket and placed it over his arm. But only for the scars to appear over the jacket.

He did it over, and over. With shirts, jeans, jackets, anything he could find. He didnt even realize that he was hyperventilating.

He just had to make it stop.

He wouldn't let it win.

Just for once, he wanted to get his way.

Just once.

 

But it was no use.

With a t-shirt, flannel, a hoodie, and a jacket on all the same time. Although Connor was feeling super hot. He could still see them. All of them, he could take the time to count them if he really wanted to.

He almost screamed as he pulled off all the jackets. Throwing them to the ground, taking his hands to cover his eyes. It's the only way he couldn't see them. But he knew they were there. It was like he was reliving when he put the scars on himself. All the pain and suffering. But instead of satisfaction, it's hard ridden guilt.

He never left his room that day, starvation being his reward. But maybe if he slept. All of it would go away.

All the scars.

All the people.

All the words.

Just… go away.

Chapter Text

He could still see them.

And oh god is it a sight to wake up to.

He only thought he was dreaming at first, a sick horrible dream where he had to stare at all the ways he hurt himself. As if he had to feel guilty about it.

If there was a God, which Connor highly doubted, he really hoped that he was happy. Making Connor feel like shit. Real fucking fantastic.

So what was it? He could see his own scars? So he could just look at them? What's the point? And how did him getting high have to do with it?

Connor sighed and finally went downstairs. It was the early morning now, his sleep schedule was all fucked up now. But Connor didn't really mind. It was going to end up like this when school came around anyway.

Jeez, school. There was only one month till his senior year. Connor had no idea how he passed his junior year. He barely attended class, but he could get all the stuff he needed for test with a simple google search.

But honestly, Connor wasn't looking forward to it. He knew about his bad rep. And since he grew too lazy to cut his hair, he knew he would stick out again. He never could catch a break.

Once he got to the kitchen he instantly went to the fridge for milk. It was the only thing drinkable. But he went to the cupboard and sneakily brought his long arm to the very back where none of his other family members could reach.

But then he saw them again. He couldn't avoid them. All of the perfect slashed lines being projected in the hazy blue. He could think of every scar. He knew when he made each one, and he knew why.

He pulled his arm away.

He wasn't hungry anymore.

He instead grabbed a glass and as he sat down. He heard footsteps from the stairs. But he still poured the 2% milk into the glass.

"You're not gonna finish all that milk right?" He heard. And there stood Zoe with her fuzzy purple star pajama bottoms and a white tank top. She leaned against the door away. Arms casually hugging herself and she had the classic "I just woke up, fuck off" that all Murphys had.

"It's just one glass." Connor muttered. Y'know, most siblings would just greet a "good morning" to each other. Heck, Connor doesn't even remember even saying a greeting to her in years.

She came to sit down at the table. But Connor wasn't really paying attention, he was staring out the window at the early morning. The sun wasn't up yet. So the world has the dark blue haze that surrounded the area.

"Why are you up so early?" Connor decided to ask, turning to look at her.

"Answer my question first." Shit. She asked something?

He guessed he made a confused look, because she sighed and brought a hand to head like he was giving her a headache. Which he probably was. He always was a pain in the ass.

"Why didn't you come down last night?" She asked.

Connor then remembered the scars. If looked away from Zoe and down he could-

"I fell asleep." He said, almost too quickly.

"So not getting high?" She asked, Connor glared. She said it so… much like getting high was disgusting. It wasn't.

"Shut the fuck up." He said. They both waited for a second. Not saying anything. Glaring at each other. But then Zoe got up, she looked like she was about to leave. When he saw it again.

The circle that easily shone through her white tank top. Why was it so different then his? His were scars. All of the perfect lines he created. How could she-

Oh.

It all came back to him. Zoe finding about the drugs, telling his parents, him threading to kill her, he took her by the arm and-

Oh god.

"A-are you alright?" He looked up but only to see his vision blurring.

Was he?

He brought a hand to feel single tear.

He was.

"Connor-"

He had to get out.

He quickly got up, he could hear his sister call his name. But no, he can't look at her, he can't look at all the things he's done.

He left through the front door, grabbing the keys as he walked out. Pulling out his phone, glad to see that it was only at 40%.

'hey around town?' He texted, within a few seconds he got a reply.

'Again? It's early. And I'm sure you spent all your money two days ago kid.' Connor almost growled while he texted his reply.

'i need it' It took a little longer for a reply. But as he got to his motorcycle He finally got the text.

'I'll be at the usual.'

Great.

Chapter Text

Connor spent the rest of the summer trying to avoid looking at his arms. Looking at Zoe. Looking at anyone really. And getting as high as possible.

If his parents really ever wanted to find him, they were out of luck. He usually was out in town, in his room, or anywhere they couldn't find him.

Connor lately just stuck with being in his room. With pulling out one of the many books from underneath his bed. The only thing he could look at and forget that the scars even existed.

Now, he wasn't a book-worm. He just… liked reading. The stories and world created in the pages were interesting to him. He didn't spend all his time reading with his hair up and glass-

Oh.

Maybe he was.

But honestly most of the time Connor just hoped if he got high enough it would just… go away. It somehow had to be the drugs that gave him… what?

Powers? Because he was sure when little kids talked about powers they all want to see the injuries of others.

What was he was suppose to do? Go up to them and say "hey I see that you have a scar on your hip. Wanna talk about it?" How about no.

But every time, it wouldn't work. He would wake up to the glow of his arms. If he didn't have bad days everyday before, it was like everyday was hell.

For some odd reason Zoe seemed to have been… he didn't know. Caring? She didn't do it in the nicest way possible. Even if he refused to open the door to accept the food she brought to him, she would leave it on the floor for him to find later.

His mother didn't really mind, but she did keep asking for him to come down. But Connor knew that without him down there, there would be less fighting.

His dad was the worst of them all, always had been. One night he was so sick of it, he pounded on his door. Connor was sure that if his dad tried hard enough he would've punched a hole through the wall. Yelling for him to come down and eat.

But one look at his arms, was all that was needed to keep Connor in his place. He only broke when it was his mother who came to the door.

"Hey, Connor? Sweetie?" Connor had been playing with his new hair length. It had gotten so long during the summer. But, honestly, he liked it. He had to brush it with his fingers since he didn't have a brush of his own. But it was fine.

He thought about just staying quiet, maybe she would go away. But before Connor could put those thoughts into actions, he heard himself calling out, "Yeah?"

"I-I made your favorite tonight. It's a week before school starts, so we wanted to celebrate." His mom said.

"My favorite?" He asked. He wasn't even aware he had one. He barely ever did eat anyway. He probably has lost 20 pounds this whole summer.

"The pasta? With the garlic, the basil-"

"And the tomatoes?" Connor asked. He remembered. It was something they had often before-

Well, everything.

"The very same!" He felt like his mom was getting too excited about Connor remembering a food he liked when he was younger. But for some reason, it brought a smile to his face.

He climbed out his bed, stretching, and walked to the door. As he brought his hand to the lock, he paid no mind to the glow of his arms as he unlocked the door.

The door was barely opened before he felt arms around his neck. His mother's smell of the pasta she made engulfed him. It was… comforting.

He didn't hug her back, but she seemed okay with it. Pulling away, she kept a gentle hand on his wrist as she led him downstairs with a smile. Connor nervously looked to his arm, only to see that his own mother's hand covered the scars hidden beneath her. He almost gasped, and couldn't stop staring as they walked down the stairs.

Once they got to the kitchen, he looked to see Zoe, who was already sitting down at the table. It was a relief to Connor that most of the blue was fading. But he also saw that his father was missing. Which, if Connor was being honest, he didn't mind at all.

"Your father is on a business trip. But I don't think since he will be working that this school year shouldn't bother him anyway." Connor could sense a slight annoyance in her voice. Which led Connor to believe this may or not be a "business trip". But Connor couldn't really care less.

Connor walked forward to take his normal seat, between where Zoe and his mom usually sat. He didn't know what to do, or even say, do he just watched as his mother went to the stove where three plates were, and put the noodles and sauce on each one. And brought them over.

"Thanks mom." Both Zoe and Connor said in unison. And Connor almost smiled at the fact that the noodles themselves were the ones shaped like bow-ties, just like when he was younger.

After his mom sat down, they all are in silence. It could've been uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Connor could savor every bite, and he wouldn't have to deal with his dad yelling about his disappointments or Zoe complaining about something or other that he did.

He took a peek at her, but she looked confused, almost tense. As if she was waiting for something bad to happen. Which Connor couldn't blame, just because their dad wasn't here didn't make things completely okay.

He knew that his mom would open her mouth sometime. When that happened, it could lead to a downfall. But he was surprised when it was Zoe who did it instead.

"I like the new hair length." She said. She didn't look up at him, keeping her eyes on the pasta. But she didn't say it in a mean way. It was quiet but… genuine.

"Thanks…"

Connor's fingers instantly went to fiddle with the ends of his hair. He also noticed that the blue that was in his sister's hair a couple months ago had almost faded. He kinda liked the color, he wondered if she was going to do it again.

"How have you been taking care of it?" His mom decided to speak up. He shrugged, how was he supposed to take care of hair anyway?

"I have an extra brush if you wanna use it." Zoe said. "As well as a bottle of conditioner." Conditioner? What the hell is that?

He nodded, and they once again fell into silence. It was more tense. As if everyone was thinking the same thing, 'oh crap, what do I say?' Connor knew he was going to keep his mouth shut. He just needed to to keep- oh.

"Do you want some more Connor?" His mom asked. He nodded and handed the plate to her. He felt like he hadn't eaten in months. And the pasta was amazing, he wished that they had it more often.

His mother stood up from the table and without thinking grabbed the metal lid without a paper towel, causing her to drop the lid to the ground and her letting out a yelp in pain.

"Are you okay?" He heard himself ask.

"Yes, ah, I just burned myself a little. No worries." She said, but as he looked, he saw that it was just like Zoe's… spots. A glow appearing over his mother's hand. But instead of blue, it was red. A pinkish red glow, what the hell did that mean? He looked at his own scars, ice cold blue. Scars he placed there himself. And the calming red of the accidental burn.

Great, so he knew if injuries where on purpose or not now. Whoop de do. But what the hell was he supposed to do with that? And more importantly, how the fuck was he gonna get rid of it-

"Connor?" He looked up to see his mother back at the table. A bandage on her hand not covering the glow. How long had he been spaced out for?

"Yes?" He asked.

"What classes did you take? It's your senior year so you should have some fun classes." Connor just shrugged. He more just took the basic classes.

"C'mon anything fun?" She looked like she was desperate. Why did it matter to her that he had a "fun" class? But he sighed, the face was annoying to look at.

"Just get over it." He grumbled. He didn't want to admit that he was taking an art class. His school councilor said he needed an art credit and it was the only one that didn't want to make him throw up.

"And you have jazz band again hun?" Zoe nodded, Connor personally had never gone to her concerts. It wasn't really his type of music and he much rather be anywhere else but near his family.

"I cannot believe it's gonna be the first day of school in a week! Aren't you both excited?"

"I'm not going."

He looked to see his mother and Zoe staring at him.

"Why not?" Said his mother in her begging tone. But he stood his ground. He couldn't go, having people stare at him. He also hated the "get-to-know-you" games they always seemed to have. What was he supposed to say? "I'm Connor Murphy and I can see that you have a scar on your neck." No way.

"I'll go the next day." He mumbled, that's all he needed to get his bearings. Then he heard the door opening and immediately tensed.

"I'm home." Larry called. Connor didn't look at him though. He just looked at his half-eaten 2nd plate.

"Larry! I thought you weren't going to be home till tomorrow." Connor heard footsteps coming into the room.

"Yeah, but I managed to get done early and-" suddenly he felt eyes in him. Connor clutched his hands under the table.

"Connor, you finally decided to get out of your room I see." Connor didn't say anything. He didn't want to, this had been great, just perfect. But now…

"What's been going on?" Larry said, coming to sit at his spot of the table.

"We were… talking about school." He heard his mother say.

"Ah, a couple of things. I want a fresh start, no more of this disappearing act. I want you at school everyday. No more skipping or faking sick." He felt Larry's eyes on him, but he just glared into his food.

"And to make sure of this, I'm taking away that ridiculous vehicle of yours." Connor's eyes widened as he then glared into Larry's eyes.

"My bike? You're taking it away? It's mine!" He yelled.

"Well, its mine now until you can prove that you can be at school."

"That's not fair! How will I even get to school?"

"Of course it is and Zoe will now drive you to school meaning you have to wait for her after her jazz band practices. Connor, stop giving me attitude and eat." He paused. "And get a haircut. You look ridiculous."

Connor couldn't take it, he stood up from his chair. Glaring at the man who gave him a hard stare back.

"I'm not hungry." And as he turned and took the first couple of steps to his room, he felt a hand on his arm, and swung around.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" He then saw Zoe's worried eyes then turn into shock. Connor's own eyes widened, he had to get out of there. Instead of heading to his own room he made way to the front door.

"Connor where the hell are you going!?" He heard his father yell.

"Out!" He said, but as he was about to reach for his keys, he saw that they were gone.

He took and glared at his father, seeing that Larry now had a bit of smirk on his face that made Connor want to punch something.

"FUCK YOU" He yelled opening the door. Giving Larry a hand sign that his mother gasped at.

He then walked out and slammed the door. Walking far away from the house, wishing he never had to come back.