"Jan, I think you need to talk to her," I'd heard Sidney's frantic whisper sounding from the opposite end of the room. Kat was long gone somewhere during my mental breakdown, Phoenix calling her and her leaving with a half-hearted apology. It'd been ten minutes, ten minutes of me trying to process everything I'd seen and heard. January cut himself; January Calligan, my best friend, the gayest of the gay in the best possible way had cut himself. And the worst part is, he'd been doing it for a while and Sidney knew about it.

Throughout those ten minutes alone, I'd started to notice all the signs I'd pushed away: his long sweatshirts and the fact that I'd once caught Sidney holding his wrists when he'd first gotten back from DC. She'd been checking for evidence of self-harm and I didn't pay enough attention.

I felt the tears start to pour down my cheeks again as a sob pushed its way through my throat and out into the air as I tried to catch myself. Shoving my hand to my mouth, I tried not to make any noise because I wasn't the one hurting, Jan was. Still, that didn't stop the ache in my chest.

It was silent.

"Em..."

And with all the strength I had, I struggled to look up at him, my lips bitten raw and I hadn't cared. I let out a shaky breath, not being able to speak and averting my eyes to my hands as I pushed past the lump in my throat, "Why?"

Everything seemed fine; he seemed fine and I couldn't process how broken he seemed on that bathroom floor and how his lively blue eyes were misty and ashen. I wiped at my nose, shoving my face into my elbow, I tried to slow my breathing.

I feel like I can't breathe.

"Why what?" he was bouncing around the issue and normally, I let him because that was a very Jan thing to do but this was serious and him being all nonchalant about it was pissing me off. I sighed, shaking slightly when I'd released my breath.

"Don't act fucking stupid," his breath hitched but I couldn't stop the words from tumbling out my mouth, "why would- how could you ever..."

"I don't really know," he muttered, scratching his hand nervously and licking at his lips.

"Don't bullshit me, January."

Breath hitching, his eyes darted up to meet mine and the tears in them were heartbreaking. I felt my head pound at the look on his face and my heart stopped beating at the next words that came out of his mouth, "I hate myself, Em."

Suddenly it felt like the world had stopped spinning, the wind being knocked out of me and Sidney's strangled sobs into her elbow being the only thing I could hear. My head was pounding and I struggled to breathe as Jan just sat there as if nothing was wrong.

And then I heard Jackson's voice, my head whipping over to the door. He wasn't supposed to be here and he definitely wasn't supposed to hear any of this. Jackson was just fifteen, he didn't need to know that his best friend in the world hated himself. He didn't need to know any of this but he did and you could see the shock on his face.

He'd dropped the tv remote from his hand, breathing ragged as his hands shook. And from the way his lips trembled and his jaw clenched, I could tell Jackson was fighting a breakdown again because that's what he did. He fought because he wanted to be strong even when he was hurt, "What?"

It was all too much; it was all falling apart way too fast.

"I hate that I'm gay, I hate how alone I always feel, I fucking hate that I'm always the reason Oliver is arrested," Jan cried, "I ruined his life."

"Always?"

"Its my fault, Em; it's always my fault."

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

It was late in the afternoon and after Jackson had punched a wall on a rampage only Sidney could stop, I was sitting in my living room with January's head in my lap and his ocean blue eyes closed. He was snoring softly, the bags under his eyes and his obvious lack of sleep had my hands in his blonde lifeless hair, stroking from the dark roots and throughout.

I could hear things being smashed in Jackson's room and Sidney's yelling because that was what she did. Sid was the mediator, the one who was stronger than all of us combined, physically and emotionally. Sidney always was forced to deal with our problems and I felt so fucking guilty about that.

Still I stroked my fingers through Jan's hair, the soft hum of the television being comfort. My mind was everywhere and I was overloaded and overwhelmed.

My eyes strayed to his wrists and even though I knew it would not hurt me further, I found myself lifting his sleeve.

I could see the tears dropping into his mutilated skin, my hand coming up to hold back any sounds of anguish.

He needed to sleep and my crying loudly would only wake him up.

I stayed like that, pulling his sleeve back up to prevent anymore tears and throwing my head back wishing this pain didn't exist. I loved him too much and I could feel it in my heart.

The doorbell rang.

I looked down at Jan, trying to ignore it but with it ringing two more times, I became annoyed. Carefully lifting his head, I placed a soft throw pillow underneath it and kissed his forehead softly. Jan's steady breathing was what helped me calm down at least a little bit as I made my way to the front door.

Swinging it open quickly, I readied myself to dismiss the person behind it but stopped in my tracks when I'd seen him.

I found myself scanning his face for bruises almost automatically, stopping at the bandage on his pointy nose.

I looked up to his dark hair, flat on his head and then met his eyes. They were more gray than green that day, maybe they knew the atmosphere of my house. Gray and gloomy, needing that spark of color that was once January but with the drab feeling of the day and the all black he was dressed in, Oliver fit in.

It was sad really.

"Hey," he'd greeted after a moment of silence, rocking back on his heals and biting his too-punctured bottom lip as he stared at the ground. I kept my distance, slowly stepping outwards to close the door behind me and my heart lurched at the way he automatically stepped back.

I didn't make any move to get closer to him, "Aren't you supposed to be in jail?"

Oliver gulped, licking his lips and I could feel his remorse-filled eyes staring straight at me although I hadn't had the nerve to meet them, "They looked over the footage of the fight and had a few witnesses saying that Ceaser provoked me..." He paused as if waiting for my response but when I didn't say a word, he continued, "His parents agreed not to press charges and I got let off."

I didn't know what to say, my body wanting to hug him but my mind keeping me centered as I just kept replaying the fight over and over again. Biting my lip, "Good for you then," escaped as I failed on coming up with a response.

What was I supposed to say? Congrats, you almost killed a guy.

He must've noticed my reserved tone because he sighed, lips parting to suck in air before he spoke, "Emerson-"

"What?" I was filled to the brink with emotions for January that I'd become numb to anything Oliver had to say at that point. I'd tried to make myself not care about what happened to him over the two days since his arrest but clearly, that was a fail. I liked him and I cared about him and I was so goddamn happy he wasn't in jail but... fuck.

He still hadn't moved, eyes clamped shut as his voice came out hoarse, "I'm sorry."

For some reason I couldn't stop a bitter chuckle from surfacing, "Yeah, sure."

It was silent and for a moment, I found myself recapping on when everything was perfect -well, as perfect as it could get- I was thinking back to a time before my life became so complicated and back to a time where I was fearless.

The lines between fear and self-pity were starting to blur nowadays and I didn't know what to feel. I really didn't know what to feel when Oliver spoke again, voice cracking, "Can you please just talk to me?"

That was when I snapped, "No, Oliver, how the fuck am I supposed to feel?" I'd convinced myself that feeling everything all at once was better than feeling nothing, "You almost killed him!"

His voice remained eerily calm an I found myself taking on my mother's role whereas Oliver would be my father. I found myself yelling at him as he tried to stay leveled, "I told you I'm dangerous, you didn't listen."

"Well, I'm listening now," I tried to end the conversation, reaching behind me for the doorknob so I could enter my house and leave him behind. Oliver was just a fucking phase and I needed to grow up and stop trying to ignore the fact that he had problems, "please leave."

"Don't do this," I could hear the plead I his voice as his facade cracked and he clenched his jaw shut, hands shoved deep in his pockets. I wanted to kiss his bitten lips and thread my hands through his dark and unkempt hair but I stayed put, forcing myself to stand my ground and do what I thought was best for me.

I couldn't handle everything at once, something's gotta give.

"Oliver I can't just deal with this; I know I said I'd be there for you but..." Trailing off, I tried to think of how to word the feeling coursing through my veins and I tried to explain exactly where I was coming from. He looked at me beneath his fringe and everything came pouring out of me, "I watched you hurt him, you didn't know what the fuck you were doing and you didn't realize it until you hit Elliot."

I could see him visibly wince at the mention of his brother and I honestly wanted to take it back but he needed to hear this. He needed to hear how bad it had gotten from simple fights to showing someone the meaning of death. Oliver was getting out of control and the sad part was I wasn't sure I could deal with it anymore, "You would've killed Ceaser and I can't stick around with the chance of something like that happening again."

He seemed to process that, running a bandaged hand up to scratch at his jaw before he tried to visibly calm himself down. I could see it in the shuffle of his sneakers and the bite of his lip as his eyes flickered open an I wasn't surprised to see anger in them. He hated it when I judged him, I knew that but how as I supposed to let go of the fact that he didn't learn from his past mistakes? He battered Phoenix; Phoenix almost died and after juvie, he still went and mutilated Ceaser's face. He'd gotten into this mindset that he was exactly what Elliot had referred to him as: a monster.

And he behaved as such.

His fists were clenching and his breathing was becoming labored as he spoke, me unintentionally hanging off of every word, "I black out, Em. I have problems, we already established that and you promised me after you knew this; you knew it and you let me get this close to you to fucking break it off when you get a firsthand experience-"

"How am I supposed to react?" I was becoming hysterical, maybe it was the pressure from Jan or the fact that I didn't really know Oliver Remmer yet I had this insane crush on him regardless of the numerous warnings to stay away. I probably didn't make any sense, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to solve a problem without thinking straight. I could feel my eyes burning with unshed tears, "Listen, I didn't know what I was getting myself into and I'm sorry."

"You're just giving up on me now? After pushing me so hard to let you in and then—" He sounded bitter, laughing with his hands in his pockets and such malice in his voice it scared me. "It's not like I fucking love you or anything."

And he avoided my gaze, voice painful, negating his last statement.

"You mean so much to me."

I couldn't handle this. I couldn't handle any of this, "Oliver..."

"No," he was adamant, not stopping as he stepped closer, me stepping back until I could feel my lower back colliding with the doorknob, only then I stayed still. I hadn't been able to realize that the rage in his eyes wasn't directed at me but more towards himself because I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I felt myself panicking although I knew that Oliver wouldn't hurt me, "you don't realize how important you are to me."

He was too close and he must've sensed it because he backed up slightly as I gulped, "You're important to me too but-"

"But what?" I could feel his grip on my wrist and I just wanted it to stop, I wanted my heart to stop pounding and I wanted him to stop making me feel because my feelings were a little toxic at that point and I couldn't handle anymore.

"I'm scared, Oliver!"

I wasn't scared of him physically but the thought of him made my heart clench and I'd never been that scared of anything, I'd never been that scared in my life.

That whipped him out of his reverie, his eyes glazing over as he processed my words and in a second he dropped his hand, "I scare you?"

I wasn't scared of him but what he was capable of because the truth was, Oliver's anger issues were more serious than I thought and with the days away from him and visiting Ceaser in the ICU, I realized just how serious they were. He needed to talk to a professional, he needed something, "I'm scared you're gonna get too angry one day and I'm terrified that you'll go too far."

"What did you expect?" You got involved with a psychopath, Emerson; what did you expect?

"I was in a psych ward two weeks before you met me." He looked so angry. "You knew I had issues."

A psych ward? "They said you were in juvie."

He blanked. He looked like he didn't mean to say it.

"Oliver."

He screwed his eyes shut, knitted his brows together and he looked like he didn't know what to say. "I- Uh- I lost it when Charlie died." He looked so embarrassed then. "Kinda snapped... I punched the wall and I-I couldn't stop. I broke three fingers and fractured my wrist."

And fuck, that was terrifying.

"...Why didn't you tell me?"

He laughed. "I told Jacie that I wanted to kill myself and she slept with Phoenix the next day."

"You like me now because you think I just have anger issues, you don't wanna know what goes on in my fucking head."

"So you didn't give me the choice?"

"You would've left me, Emerson."

"Don't tell me what I would have done." But he was probably right, I would've gotten scared and I definitely would've thought of leaving him. But that didn't give him the right to lie to me."And don't compare me to your ex-girlfriend either."

Hiding the fact that he was such a danger to himself, that felt too much like Jan and maybe it hit too hard.

And I couldn't be angry at Jan for it. Maybe Oliver was collateral damage.

I could tell what he meant; he was trying to blame it on his 'illness' again without noticing, "if you're telling me that you have an actual disorder, you need to talk to someone."

"It's almost like it's my life."

"And I'm expected to want to be apart of your life?" I wanted to be, I wanted to be so fucking bad. "When you don't take any precautions? Or responsibility for your actions? You expect me to just- to go along with you beating people half to death because you don't have control over yourself?"

I was crying. I could feel it, could see him getting blurry and I hated how weak I looked. "When you don't take medication and you barely go to therapy and this could've been your last strike? I'm supposed to just be okay with the fact that your temper could take you away from me at any time?"

"I'm supposed to be okay with you being completely self-destructive? And I can't say anything because it's your fucking life?"

"It's mine too, Oliver. And I can't handle it."

And with a hand on the knob again, I turned it, stepping back into my house but his voice -broken and abused- had stopped me dead in my tracks. I could hear him holding back his emotions and clearly strggling, "I need you."

"You need help..." I was unable to look at him as I started to shut the door, uttering out a small apology as I felt myself crying for the third time that day, "I'm sorry, Oliver."