Chapter Text
(This fanfic is mildly inspired by other bad things fanfics, if you notice similar aspects, I probably was inspo'd by them!)
WARNING: I WRITE IN 3RD PERSON. IT MAY BE CONFUSING TO READ WHEN BOTH IVAN AND ANDREW ARE IN THE SAME SCENE.
A while had passed. So long that Ivan didn't know anymore. Andrew was gone. He moved on. He left him. He was cold, all alone. Stuck in this horrendous apartment.
One day, Andrew came back. Ivan thought, maybe, just maybe, they could talk it out. That he could still be remembered, but no. No. Andrew came, to take that gift, the plant Andrew gave him. Because he was giving it to someone else.
That broke Ivan.
He was bedrotting. No, quite literally. Wrappers from snacks spread across the floor, crumbs scattered. His bed was messy, unclean. He only ever got up to blankly stare at his computer or to use the bathroom. He yearned, yearned for Andrew to come back, to hold, caress him, to tell him everything was okay. But no- No, a man shouldn't live with another man. He didn't need Andrew.. He... he..
...
The breaking point came. He had no will left. Nothing left to live for. Walking to the roof, the red light of the roof illuminated the dark hallway. He pushed the door open, and walked over to the ledge. Nothing. Nothing was left. This tumor- it was killing him. And he was taking it down with him.
To: Andrew■■■■■■@gmail.com
From: [email protected]
Subject: please.
Imso sorury anddew i cant taje it anymro imfisnuhg thejob. Plz donf bemad.
"I've moved on?..."
Five days.
Five days had past.
Andrew ignored the email sent to him. Of course Ivan sent him another pleading email. To his WORK email as well. But days had past. Usually he sent another email after.. 3 days? Just to like, say some shit about checking up on Andrew or to not forget him. But he had moved on. He had a new friend. No- New FRIENDS. Better than whatever Ivan could be.
But curiosity killed his mind. With no new email for 5 days, he checked it.
...
It, was.. Concerning.
Ivan never wrote messily. He was a writer. He wrote like if Shakespeare was reincarnated sometimes. But this- This, it seemed- Genuine. Genuine from the Ivan underneath the dark covers of greed. But the words were hard to tell- Hard to read, what was Ivan saying?
So, Andrew ignored it. Ignored the concern welling within him. Why would he go back to that abusive asshole?
"Why can't I stay dead?"
Bright lights.
It hurt. It hurt his sensitive eyes a lot.
Ivan's eyes weakly opened, staring down immediately to avoid the light. He was dizzy- Confused. What happened?
He was supposed to be dead.
And this was just a cruel joke to his face.
Tears welled in his face as the pain set in, whatever drugs this place had him on lasted shortly. He whined, but hid back the tears. He stared. Then, slowly, and weakly, lowered his head to look at the damage.
His body was in excruciating pain, but he held on. Held on to what little ledge he had of.. what? Hope? Sadness? Fear? He didn't know.
He couldn't tell the damage, but his legs were messed up. Gashes on one with a possible broken ankle.. At least from the looks of it. Ivan tried to move, to get up, but his body protested with a near scream, but nothing came out, just a weak whine. He wanted to rip out these IV lines. But his hands were tied- Wait, tied?
He took a look again- A good look. Leather straps were around his wrists, restricting his thrashing movements or any attempt to escape. He'd never been to the hospital before, maybe a few times as a kid.. They probably thought he was crazy, maybe a druggie who purposefully fell to get on meds. Or mentally unstable- Well, that part was right.
Finally, a doctor and a nurse entered the room. The nurse straightened up, probably ready to deliver the news that "You're alive and okay".
"You are.. Mr. Ivan, correct? It's okay if you can't move or talk." The nurses voice was smooth, clean, and felt like a sweet honey coated under a pit of spikes. The doctor was stern, perhaps angry? Pissed off?
Ivan glanced up, and nodded. The nurse gave a small nod in response, looking at her clipboard. "You seemed to have fell from and.. 7 story building. Most people don't survive, but you were lucky. The hotel staff outside took good care of the bushes, making your fall less fatal. We thought you'd die via blood loss, but your body seemed determined to continue on.." She said. Of course. Ivan had a natural thing for his body to heal fast- too fast. At least to him. And a bush, on top of that? Wow.
The nurse cleared her throat and continued. "Due to the fact the police, and hospital staff, have ruled this to be a suicide attempt.. Unfortunately, you have to be put on watch. At least, for now. In the hospital.. We'll hooking you up with a therapist, get you professi..."
The girls words faded from Ivan's mind. Therapy. Therapy. He wanted to burst into tears. To beg. Last time he went to therapy, it was some camp out in the woods, disguised as therapy, but actually to "discipline" children in the name of it. He was scared. Scared to go back there.
But his body didn't move a muscle. Despite his panic in his mind, his heart rate didn't go up. He stayed still. The nurse looked over, staring at Ivan, and he just weakly nodded, his mind on auto-pilot. What was he supposed to do? Just say "no I'm scared"?
The nurse nodded, and while she was talking, the doctor was checking up on Ivan. They said his recovery time was probably in a few weeks till he could walk.
And they left.
He was alone. Again.
Not even his mom was here.
Silently, he cried, sniffling. Oh, he missed her warm hugs, the soft words she whispered to him, telling him everything was okay. That made him want to kill himself even more. He weakly tried to move his hands, but nothing worked. He wanted to hold himself. He wanted anyone to be here, maybe another version for himself- Hell, even the tumor.
He sniffled. Small sobs started to escape him. He missed his ma.
"One chance, and if you screw this up, I'm gone."
Andrew caved in. He told his friends he'd be going on a trip somewhere, maybe for a few days. That he'd be gone. They all understood, and let him go.
He was back in the town, Bloxy Town.
It was.. different. Everyone seemed brighter. Maybe he just haven't seen this part of town.. Perhaps? But who knows. The walk was annoyingly long. Each step he told himself he was just "checking on him". Not like he was worried.. Maybe. Just a little.
Finally, he reached the hotel, opening the door as the bell jingle. The receptionist perked up, a warm smile on his face. "Hello, welcome to-" "The Manor Hotel, rated the best in Bloxy Town- Yeah yeah." Andrew waved a hand dismissively.
"Listen, sorry if I'm rude, but I'm looking for my friend- Ivan. Room 406. Is he here? He lives on the top floor by the fire exit." Andrew said, his voice a bit urgent and needy. The receptionist opened his tab, humming as he looked closer. "It seems your friend is on temporarily leave.. He's at Memories Hospital at the moment. He's not being charged for his room at the moment, but would you like to go there?"
Memories hospital? "Wait wait- What happened?" Andrew said, his voice urged with a tinge of panic. The man shrugged. "I don't know. We don't have access to medical records including the reasons for leave."
Andrew paused, and mumbled a curse under his breath. Without missing a beat, he bolted out of the hotel, and as soon as his shoes touched the pavement sidewalk, he slowed down, pretending to look normal and not worried. He pulled up his pink hoodie to not be recognized.
The walk this time was worse. Longer. More tortuous. Like it was making him think that Andrew was dead- Oh god, please don't be dead-
Despite the abuse Ivan put him through, he was worried. He knew Ivan was in a bad spot, mentally. He didn't know. And that's why he left. Knowing Ivan won't get better until he was gone. But Ivan- Oh Ivan, he couldn't let go..
Once he reached the hospital, he immediately spoke to the receptionist before she could talk. "Ivan ■■■■■■■. Is he here?" He asked urgently. The woman nodded, speaking some ransom sense about medical terms, and finally, she said; "Room 012-"
"Thank you-" Andrew said before he ran off, searching for Room 012. Once he found it, he barged in. The room was practically empty. Not even Ivan's mom was there, it was just Ivan. A leather strap was wrapped around his other arm, the one that wasn't hooked to the IV lines. Ivan was sleepy- Tired. It's been 9 days since he was in hospitalization. He had so many untreated mental issues, and so many medications to take- It ended up making him.. really tired.
Ivan looked up slightly, his sleepy eye closed and his normal eye open now as he stared, and his breathing paused.
"... Andrew?" Ivan weakly whispered, his eyes widened as he sleepy eye slowly opened. His breathing quickened a bit- Was he here to finish the job? To tell him he was useless for not finishing the job? Or was he here to finish it personally?
But Andrew didn't. "Ivan- Ivan what the hell happened?! I was worried sick!" He said, leaning over Ivan's bed, getting a good look at the pathetic man, who whimpered softly due to Andrew's worried tone. "I.. w-worried, you?... y-you're not mad?..." He asked, weakly, confused, but hopeful. Andrew shook his head. "No- Maybe, a bit- But what happened?!"
Ivan stared, afraid to admit, but he was tired. Vulnerable. He gulped, and began to speak, admit what happened. "I.. I was.. spiraling really bad after you left.."
He paused, afraid to continue, afraid to be seen as an abusive monster who just wanted his victim back. Or something like that.. "i.. I tried to attempt- to... kill myself.. because I was miserable.. i- I failed. Somehow.... they're putting me on medication.. to help deal with my issues.. I guess.."
He swallowed. Staring at Andrew, his eyes were sleepy, drowsy, but he was pleading. "And.. Andrew.. I'm.. sorry.. I really am.. you don't have to forgive me, but I'm sorry.. "
Andrew and Ivan stared at each other. Silence. The tension was thick, something a gun couldn't break. Andrew swallowed, and he nodded. "I know. I know you are. And don't think I forgive you, you idiot- But I'm not letting you be alone again until you're better."
Ivan didn't know how to feel about that. He stared, and nodded. The two had a lot to work through. Forgiveness. And especially working on their mental issues.
Both of them had their issues.
And maybe. Maybe. They could be friends again.
.. perhaps more?...