A Relapse Story (Vincent) {Trigger Warning}

[Vincent Meian]

He knew it hurt; of course it hurt. He was probably gripping her too tightly in his worry, but as much pressure on the wound as possible was needed to keep the blood from flowing too strongly. The pain in her face was emotional as well as physical, though, and the father in him just wanted to take care of her, give her the comfort she needed. But the soldier in him, the man that had seen wounds like this before, knew that the first thing that mattered was stabilizing her, calling for help. Getting the girl to a hospital if need be.

But she agreed. She agreed to help him, to let him help her. Vincent relaxed, releasing his grip from the tacky and blood-stained limb and quickly folding the cardigan at his side into a thick sort of pad. Placing it over the cut with little concern over the fabric, he wrapped the sleeves around her arm tight, interlacing over the injury to apply pressure. It was probably uncomfortable, and likely hurt, but it would keep the blood from flowing. Allow it to clot, for the wound to begin healing. It would help.

"This will help," he promised, looking up from his handiwork to the pale girl. The intensity was fading, but the other emotions remained strong, and his expression even seemed softer and more understanding. "I will need to call a doctor for you before the danger subsides."

But that could wait for a moment - the Infirmary was not far from here, and Nakia would make it in plenty of time if he asked her to hurry. Likely, she'd already been notified, but calling her would simply speed the process along. Confirm the urgency. Right now, emotional healing was just as important, and the Japanese man shifted to sit beside his student, one arm wrapped around her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. He held her to his side, carefully but warm, let her lean against his shoulder.

It wasn't everything he could do, but for now it was a start. And the soft flutter of compassion grew into opacity as he did so. Vincent cared for Addie, and wanted her to feel safe. He didn't know how he could do that, but so long as she could believe that there was one person in the world who could help her... there was hope.

[Adaryn Breslin]

The relief was short lived as Vincent removed his tough grip on her arm. To say it hurt was a bit of an understatement, since each moment after she had sliced her arm open, the pain has been getting progressively worse. Once the danger was past, her body finally allowed herself to feel her mistake. Vincent pressed her cardigan against her arm and she tried not to scream. For a girl who constantly hurt herself, she really did have a low pain tolerance. The irony, really.

However, despite all of her pain, she listened to what Vincent had told her. She pressed the fabric into her arm. Numbness. She wished she just had complete numbness. Indifference. Something. But everything that had occurred today, she would be able to do nothing but sit there and grit her teeth. Adaryn leaned into the man beside her, whose arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close. At that moment, she wanted to scream. She wanted to get out everything she was feeling. Tears were not enough for her. They were simply frustrating her more.

"I-I'm alone... Mr. Meian... I-" She choked on her saliva then, and attempted to regain her voice after her coughing subsided. "I don't have parents anymore... they... they gave me up..."

What else should she say? That she was sorry for what she did? Probably, but she figured he already knew that Adaryn felt bad about this. And mustering an 'i'm sorry' was too much to bare at the moment. She was already humiliated enough by the fact that he saw all the white scars on her arms.

"I... The nightmares... Monroe.... My parents... Everything just... I couldn't handle it. I couldn't..."

[Vincent Meian]

It wasn't too much of an irony. Actually, it was fairly normal; pain when inflicted on oneself was always dampened by the fact that a person could not harm themselves higher than their pain tolerance. People who self-mutilated extensively knew this well. The fact that Adaryn had a low tolerance for harm was not only normal, but expected. Even so, the trainer flashed her a slightly apologetic look, a flicker of guilt and contrite sheepishness passing through his emotions before fading away again.

Running his hand gently down her arm, Vincent listened to her quiet and staggered explanations. Her reasons why this was the breaking point. Indeed, it was a lot for a teenager to take, even if he didn't understand most of it. But feeling like you had no one else, that your parents had abandoned you, and then being plagued with nightmares? It was a lot for most people, let alone a child.

"Fear and grief make us do many things," he replied softly. Pausing to look at the makeshift wrap a moment to see if it was bleeding through (it was not, yet), he continued. "No one can be strong at all hours of every day. I can promise you something, though.

"You are not alone. You are never alone. It does not matter if the world turns its back upon you, for there will always be at least one person to stand beside you. I will ensure it."

[Adaryn Breslin]

Why she always lead herself to believe the people in her life would always leave, she would never know. She had been told that she couldn't base who people were by the negative things that others had done to her, but she never listened. She always waited for that one moment where they would just hurt her. It was always expected, whether the girl even realized it at the time or not. Like Monroe, for instance. Adaryn always knew it was too good to be true. He lead her on to believe that he actually cared. But if he cared, he would have never listened to her in that dream. He would have never kissed her. Wait… why were her thoughts always going to Monroe?

She shook her head.

But Vincent, time and time again, was there for her. From his panting when he first came into the room and spoke to her, she could guess he probably ran. Ran across campus to make sure… she was okay. He bandaged her wound. He sat there with her, holding her gently, with an affection that she hadn’t ever seen before. When she was younger, she was her Daddy’s girl, but she hadn’t manifested yet. Now, the lavender was almost as calming at his arm around her.

“Why do they blame me, Mr. Meian? I’ve always tried to make it up to them… to make them see it wasn’t my fault… When my mother called me… she said I can’t return home. That what will be done with me will be in the hands of the state. I don’t have any parents now. What do I do?”

Her voice was calmer, and though it sounded more drained by that point. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right then, but she knew that wouldn't happen.

[Vincent Meian]

It took a lot of convincing for people to realize that not everyone was the same, that the actions of those previous (no matter how frequent, pervasive, or harmful) did not dictate the actions of those in the future. Addie was not the only person to have fallen into this trap of expecting the worst in others based on past experiences, and unfortunately she would not be the last. She would also not be the last teenager to ignore sage words. It was just how the world worked, and the benefit of this would be an irreplaceable and valuable experience that would help her grow as a person.

Vincent had also learned these lessons the hard way, learned that the way he'd been treated as a child was not the way that all children were raised, learned that his past did not dictate his future. It had been hard to learn, but sometimes all someone needed was the right person to show them the way. For the trainer, it'd been his best friend (and first lover). Passing that opportunity along as a friend, a confidant, even as a father figure - that was something that only he could give. Something only he could teach. Anyone could be taught to trust, just as anyone could be loved. Even if that love was not always what people wanted, it was certain to be what they needed.

"You will endure," he said simply. "You will live your life and find new people to care for, as they will care for you. Your past, your family - this is a part of who you are, but it is not everything. It is not your future, and it is not your present." It was not consoling, nor was it completely kind; however, it was the truth. Said as gently as a man who only spoke the truth could.

Seeing that the girl was tired and knowing that the shock was settling in at this point, Vincent laid his hand over hers to catch her attention. "You need to be treated, Adaryn-chan. I will stay with you here, but I must be sure that a doctor will attend to you."

This was not a request.

Taking the cell phone from his pocket, the trainer pressed the speed-dial number of his wife's own mobile device and held it to his ear. Her voice answered him after a brief moment, confirming with its breathlessness that she was already on her way. He responded softly in his native language and told her of the room number before hanging up. There was nothing more to say, and Nakia would see everything in the way that only she could when she arrived.

"The doctor is on her way," he assured his student. "She will make sure you are no longer in danger." There was a pause, then the tall man added gently, "Are you well enough to stand, if only long enough to reach your bed?" He would support her, even carry her if she needed it. She was his student, after all - he would do his best to make sure that she was safe, comfortable, and content.

[Adaryn Breslin]

Crying and screaming were things that typically lulled her to sleep. Her eyes gently closed, as she was highly comfortable against Vincent. Her thoughts were even fading. Adaryn still wondered, but she barely paid attention. A quick transition between hysterical and quiet, it almost seemed like she was okay with everything, but really, she just lacked the ability to think of anything other than rest.

She felt a warm pressure against her hand, and her blue orbs shot open. She looked at Vincent, her eyes clouded with exhaustion. Her words were weaker than they had once been. "Okay," She said, attempting to minimize the amount she had to say. When he asked if she could get up, she nodded. "Yeah... I think I can do that."

With his help, she stood up and moved towards the bed. She could walk, but she maintained her grip on the man more for emotional support than for physical. Adaryn placed herself on the edge of the mattress and kicked her feet over slowly. Once adjusted, she turned towards Vincent, and mumbled "I just... I just want to sleep, Mr. Meian..." It sounded like a question, as if she was asking permission to sleep.

She could only hope he said yes.

[Vincent Meian]

This was getting bad. The shock of her actions combined with the blood loss was shutting Addie down, dropping her into the false lull of exhaustion in a desperate attempt to conserve energy. But until Nik got here and stabilized her, any sleep would only make matters much worse. Still, the trainer gave her soft expression, his emotional aura displaying his loyalty and care. "Not yet," he replied gently. "You can rest once the doctor has seen to your wound. Please stay awake a short time longer."

Doing his best to keep the girl engaged by talking to her, it was with relief that the tall man looked to his wife when she ghosted into the room. They shared a look, her expression questioning and his resigned, then the pale woman placed her hand in the one that shared Addie's injured arm. Her expression turned pained, but the emotional signs were very clinical and calm - the girl would be fine.

After a few moments of quiet and focus, the icy hand removed itself, a deep pink mark tracing up the matching white flesh, and cool blue eyes looked to Vincent again. "She needs liquids and rest now," the doctor stated. "And warmth. Make sure to keep an eye on her; I'll alert Dr. Neville of this once I've finished."

The next few moments were for unwrapping the makeshift bindings and rewrapping them in proper bandages, tightly but with less pressure than the ex-soldier had applied in his haste. Given that the binding was now only in place to help stabilize the injury, it was a thinner wrapping, and once finished no blood spotted the white gauze. The brunette teen would have a hell of a scar - only a full healing would have prevented that - but at least she would live and be fully functioning again in a week.

With another reminder to stay with the girl, Nakia checked her vitals and let the drowsing teen rest. When she departed quietly with a promise to bring up dinner from the cafeteria, Vincent stayed, sitting on the floor next to the bed with an attentive ear listening for changes in breathing. He didn't have another class for some time; he could stay and wait until she woke.

[Adaryn Breslin]

So Vincent didn't allow her to sleep, much to her dismay. Instead, he kept speaking to her until the albino woman from the infirmary came into her room and sat at her bedside and grabbed her hands. The woman was cold, but at this point, she didn't care. Addie watched the woman's aura falter as she held her hand, and wondered idly what her power exactly did.

Well, it didn't take long for her to find out.

She could feel a bit of a tugging on the spot where she dug the knife into her skin, soft at first until it progressively became more painful. The brunette bit her lip, a slight whimper passing her lips. When the woman took her hand away, she was both exhausted and relieved.

The bandages were changed and her vitals were checked, but by that time Adaryn was already too far gone. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, her head resting comfortably against her pillow. Not two seconds later, she succumbed to her exhaustion and slept.

--------

There were no dreams that plagued her, but she did stir quite often. Naturally, the girl was restless, tossing and turning and then staying where she was for about twenty minutes at a time. No wonder the child never got any sleep. But about two hours later, her eyes opened.

Adaryn sat up slowly, not realizing exactly where she was, and what had just occurred, so when she saw the blood still on her shirt, she screamed.

She nearly fell out of bed at this, as she tried desperately to wipe the blood off of her shirt. A futile attempt, but a logical one in the mind of the hysteric teenager. She didn't even notice the bandage on her arm.

[Vincent Meian]

Restless sleep was not unknown to the trainer, though he did glance over at his sleeping charge frequently just to be sure. At this point, even the most flailing of sleep was a good thing; it meant that Addie was alive, even if she wasn't getting rest. Alive mattered much more at this point.

Within two hours, Vincent was sore and stiff from sitting on the floor in front of the girl's bed, and had just decided to stand and stretch when the screaming started. Nearly jumping out of his skin, the tall man spun around and stepped back, his emotional state filled almost entirely with alarm even as his face covered the expression well. His body language was one of shielding and defense as well, as the small girl had surprised the living daylights out of him, but once he processed what was the matter all turbulence calmed.

"Adaryn-san," he stated, not getting through to her right away until he hardened his tone. "Adaryn-san! You are not hurt - be calm."

Taking hold of the girl by her shoulders, he forced her to look at him and not her shirt by giving her a slight shake. "Calm," he stated firmly, then more softly, "you will be all right. How do you feel?"

[Adaryn Breslin]

Vincent grabbed her shoulders and forced her to listen to him. She was forced to look at him. He told her everything would be alright, that she was fine. But the blood! Why was it on her--

Oh.

Suddenly everything came back to her. The nightmare, the call, the knife... Adaryn looked down at her arm that was bandaged, and she forced down her panic. None of that was a dream. It was all real. Her parents abandoned her, she dug a knife into her arm, and Vincent was there waiting by her bedside.

She wanted to cry, but she realized at that moment that she cried far too much. What was it worth at this point? It would only make her eyes wide, red, and puffy. Instead, she pushed herself off of the bed and stood up, her arms wrapping around his midsection and her head burying into his chest. She felt so small beside him, being that he was a whole 1 feet three inches taller than her, but the height difference was actually a good thing for once. She felt safe. Like nothing else could hurt her. She knew that Vincent would never hurt her.

"Sorry... I just," She said after a few moments. The brunette pulled away and sat back down on the bed, her arms wrapping around her own midsection. "I feel stupid. I don't know... I mean, I was doing so well. I hadn't done something like that for four years."

She felt okay telling him, mainly because he was sure to have seen the other white marks along her arms. Plus, he had seen the fresh wound not so long ago. "I'm sorry I put you through that." Adaryn felt ashamed.

[Vincent Meian]

The look that pulled at his student's face was clearly one of wanting to cry, wanting to just break down again. But she didn't. Instead, the brunette pushed against his hands, stood as he straightened, and hugged herself to him. It was surprising, yes, but the compassion he felt for the poor girl won out as he returned the embrace gently; one arm around her shoulders and the other hand patting the back of her head gently. It was fine - it was all right. She was all right. And he'd be here to help her as long as she needed it.

When she pulled away, Vincent let her, sitting next to her on the bed to maintain that unobtrusive closeness in case she still needed it.

"You do not need to apologize to me," he replied softly, watching her expression closely. He did not feel slighted, insulted, disgusted, or upset - she had been crying out for help, and felt that no one could hear her. If anything, he only felt aware that he hadn't seen it sooner. Not guilty, just aware of the mistake. "You did what you felt was necessary to make your pain known, in the hopes that someone would hear and stop you."

Pausing moment, he switched the topic as smoothly as he could. "Do you wish to speak on what has happened? What made you harm yourself? I will swear readily that I will not think less of you if so."

How could he? He'd been where she was twenty years ago. He had no right to judge her, but every ability to understand if she would let him. This was fresh, and he would allow her some space if she needed, but he would not abandon her.

[Adaryn Breslin]

He sat beside her, and she needed that. Adaryn needed the comfort, she needed the close proximity of his body. Safe was how she felt, and if he were to leave, she'd probably panic. The brunette was in a very unpredictable state. Though she decided she would not cry, the smallest thing might set her off, as it did just a moment before.

She didn't know how to respond to initial rejection of her apology. It made her feel better to apologize, but he was merely trying to place in her mind the idea that it was okay, that he was there for her. That though what she had done had scared him half to death, he could understand why she had done what she had. Adaryn was crying out for help, and thankfully there was someone there to hear her.

If he wasn't, then she probably would have died.

After the hysteria, she typically would do it again and again until she rid of that self hatred. Adaryn had slowly started to recover (though not even the girl had realized it at the time) when Vincent had forced himself into her dorm.

"Are you talking about why I started, or why I relapsed?" She avoided eye contact, but it was an invitation that she rarely gave. It was invitation to listen to what was inside of the girl with so many secrets, and Adaryn knew that Vincent would accept it.

[Vincent Meian]

An apology was meant to convey that a person had done something wrong and was contrite over that. That they felt shame or guilt for their actions. The words were twisted in modern society, meaning to express sympathy as well as shame, and neither had any bearing here. Addie had been hurt, and while she may have felt that her actions were uncalled for, it did not make them any less legitimate, did not make them any less than what they were. To say so would be a disservice to her self-worth, to accept that apology would give her a reason to feel ashamed.

There was a chance here, to make clear every reason why the young girl harmed herself the way she did. Starting at the beginning was often best as well, but none of those other scars appeared to be as deep or dangerous as the one she had made today. So perhaps today was something that she couldn't stand, something that broke her.

It would be better to get that out as soon as possible.

"What happened between the times you and I left the office?" he asked, his tone gentle. Addie had been upset, yes, but she hadn't appeared suicidal. Something must have happened to set her over the edge, to make her want to kill herself. He needed to know what it was in order to comfort the hurt or soothe the fear. He was telepathic; he was blind unless she opened up.

[Adaryn Breslin]

It didn’t take much to set her over the edge, so when Vincent asked her what happened between the times he had gone out for that phone call that made him leave the office, she bit her lip. It was a phone call. A simple phone call.

Her gaze fell to her bloody shirt, and she touched the fabric gently. The throbbing in her arm started, but she didn’t mind it. It meant she lived. It meant that she didn’t have to put anyone in anymore grief than she already had. Vincent wouldn’t have to go to a funeral, at least.

“I.. My mom called me.”

Should she even call her that anymore? She hadn’t been a mother to her since she was 13, and the woman officially abandoned her after that phone call. No, she wouldn’t call her mom. Addie didn’t have a mother, a father, or a sister. Biologically, sure. But emotionally and physically, sure.

Her throat tightened. She’d never watch Carly grow up. She’d never get to know her. Tears prickled at the edge of her eyes, but she shoved them down. The brunette also shoved down the emotional pain, and then continued.

“Long story short, my parents are now… the State of Vermont.”

She said nothing else. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but even still, it hurt. It hurt more than Adaryn could have imagined. It hurt more than the knife digging into her skin. It hurt more than Monroe betraying her the way he did. It hurt more than Louise’s death.

The reason she did was she did was simply because she wanted it to stop hurting.

[Vincent Meian]

Abandonment was never easy, no matter who left. Whether it was a break-up, a lay-off, being left alone when you'd rather have someone stay, or what Addie was going through - being abandoned was a painful experience. Some people reacted in anger, lashing out at others to hide their pain. Some responded with grief, cloistering themselves from the outside world.

And some, like Addie, reacted by trying to commit suicide.

"I am sorry for your loss," Vincent replied. He sympathized, deeply. His mother had died before he could hope to remember her face, and without a father or other family to take him he'd been passed around foster homes for over a decade. Then, when his powers manifested, he was abandoned again. It wasn't the same loss, but it had been a very deep scar to bear for a very long time. His emotional aura, so open and available, was filled with his understanding and empathy for her situation, but he didn't touch her - not yet. If she needed the comfort, he wouldn't deny her, but she had to initiate it.

"There is more, is there not?" The question was a courtesy - the brunette beside him was strong, even if she didn't believe herself to be. Things must have been piling up for days, if not weeks, to cause this kind of reaction. The trainer himself didn't believe that she would simply end everything without seeking help if the situation were otherwise.