[CLOSED] to clear my head, somehow..

[marcus owen foster]

"Three bottles of sleeping pills. Got my stomach pumped." He looked down at his arms again, unable to feel the pain. Just see that he had hurt himself.

"Pocket knife did this.." He reached into his pocket, pulling out the knife and flipping it open. He always kept it sharp, even if he had just gotten it for cutting apples. It had a new purpose now. He held open his palm, dragging the blade across it. He watched blood bead to the surface, flipping it closed and putting it back in his pocket. He watched it drop off into the sand, making another dark red stain.

"Guess it's cold out cause I don't feel it. Doctor said I have a lot of nerve damage. He said I'm lucky I can even use my arms." He watched the blood slow, now just tiny drops dripping down his hand.

[tony angel martyn]

"Eesh," Tony mumbled, watching him pull the knife out. He winced as the knife was dragged against his skin, working his jaw to hold back a snap. "I wonder why," He mumbled, snatching up his hand, careful to be gentle though clearly agitated.

He pressed their palms together. "Stop doing that yeah? At least around me. Jeez." He shook his head, voice growing softer. "hey, look at me..It's not the end of everything if you would actually try in life still.."

[marcus owen foster]

Marc looked over at him. It felt weird, having someone else's hand in his. He listened to him silently, his pale green eyes watching everything Tony did with interest. He paused for a moment, thinking over what he wanted to say in his head.

"You're really.. graceful.." He said quietly, hesitantly, with just the slightest smile on his face. His sideways smile grew, then he bit his lip, watching Tony again. "Like water.." He always associated graceful things with water. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he bit his lip again to keep from showing it.

[tony angel martyn]

Tony laughed sheepishly, staring at the sand with mock interest to hide any possible flush on his face, which felt hot suddenly. He huffed, recomposing himself, shrugged. "Benefit of the breed?" He offered impishly, searching for an excuse. "I ice skate..."

Running his hand through his hair, he tried to calms his nerves. "You look really...nice when you smile.. You should do it more often," he admitted.

[marcus owen foster]

Mark shook his head, looking back down at the sand. He bit his lip, so many things running through his head. He thought over what he was going to say at least ten times before he said it. He chewed on his lip, then opened his mouth to speak before closing it again.

"You.." He rubbed his hands together, looking down at the sand. "You gave me a reason to smile.. I haven't had a reason to smile in awhile.." He said quietly, thinking back to how rude he had been to the boy.

'You wish. But with that attitude you can even get that.' The boy's words echoed in his head. He couldn't figure out why only those seemed to stick. "Wish.." He mumbled, looking down at his hand. He rubbed them together again, hanging his head.

[tony angel martyn]

"That's good to hear," He murmured gently, fidgeting with his own hands, wiping the guys blood off on his jeans, not caring much. They were dark, it wouldn't show. "I never caught your name...I'm Tony."

He bit his lip, voice falling away as the guy uttered 'wish' and hung his head. "Hey..." He touched his back gently, rubbed it some. "You alright?"

[marcus owen foster]

"I'm Marc.." He said quietly, running his fingers back and forth across each other. He chewed on his lip, keeping his head down, even as the boy touched him.

"Thinking.. You said I wish I could get fucked. I think life has screwed me over enough." He bent down, taking another handful of sand and watching it slip through his fingers. "I just want someone to give me a reason to live. Some reason to keep smiling, keep going.." He poured the sand into his other hand, biting his lip. He heard his phone going off again and ignored it.

"When moma died, she took all that with her.. There wasn't a point to smile, or laugh, or live.."

[tony angel martyn]

"I'm sorry.." Tony whispered softly. "I was just-...I was mad was all, I didn't know you were hurting at that point." He bit his lip, feeling horrible for earlier's words now. "Now you gotta make it a goal to find one is all..." he rubbed at his back some more, trying to ease him up.

But he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt, the fact that those were the words Marc remembered most.

[marcus owen foster]

"I just want my moma back.." He said quietly. "I already know.. no one wants me.. I just want her back.. She's the only person who actually understood. Who actually cared about me.." He shook his head, then gently moved Tony's arm back into his lap. He kicked a bit of sand with his shoe, then started to make a hole. He dropped the shell he had found into it, then covered it back up.

"Some kid's little treasure now.." He said quietly, remembering that he used to love finding things hidden in the sand.

[tony angel martyn]

Tony folded his hands in his lap awkwardly, mentally beating himself over the head with a shovel for even thinking to touch the guy. "There's someone out there...you seem like a really great guy Marc. You just gotta have some patience is all. Sitting here like this isn't going to get you anywhere. You should make her proud, I'm sure that's what she would want."

He was careful how he worded what he said. This guy seemed so broken. He didn't want to add another crack to the mess.