warnings: suicide/attempted suicide, mention of razors and medication, small amount of suicidal ideation

word count: 2.2k

if you're struggling with suicidal thoughts, please don't hesitate to reach out for help.

suicidepreventionhotline.org

1-800-273-8255

SPENCER

it's not normal to come home to silence. usually, my girlfriend is blasting music or she's watching tv or she's singing to herself. the silence is weird, and a bit concerning.

"babe?" i call into the quiet apartment, dropping my bag beside the door and hanging up my jacket. "sweetheart? are you home?"

i tip toe further into the apartment, searching for any sign of my girlfriend, but i find nothing. the house is perfectly clean without a single thing out of trace. none of my cardigans on the back of chairs, or her knitting needles on the coffee table, or dirty mugs on the counter. everything is washed and in order. i swallow down the lump in my throat.

i call out her name one more time, heading upstairs. as i ascend the staircase, i can hear the distinct running of water from the bathtub in the bathroom. so i enter our bedroom and then head to the closed door. when i step in front of it, the carpet squishes under my feet and i look down to find a huge wet spot.

i knock gently on the door. "angel? can i come in?" there's no response, but my heart is beating too fast to let it go. "i'm gonna come in, okay?"

i open the door and find my girlfriend sitting on the bathroom floor. she's right beside the overflowing bathtub, dressed in soaked sweats with her hair matted to her forehead, dark makeup running down her cheeks. her arms are wrapped around her knees, pulling them into her chest, her entire body trembling. the bathroom floor is covered in a thin puddle of freezing bath water and the longer the door is open, the more of the carpet it soaks. a quick glance at the sink counter shows me her phone, a small notebook i've seen her carry around lately, and a small box of razors, one out of the box and resting on top. her familiar bottle of medication is floating in the tub, pills dissolving in the water.

it doesn't take a genius to decode the situation here. but all that matters to me is that she's still breathing and the razors are clean.

without a word, i trudge through the puddles and turn off the running water, therefore ending its contribution to the puddle. and once that's off, i close the perfectly cleaned toilet lid and sit down right in front of her. i don't say anything and she doesn't move. we just sit in silence.

i don't think anything i could say or any reaction i could have would be helpful right now. screaming and crying and dragging her out of the bathroom will make it worse, and trying to reason with her would just be a waste of time. so despite how i'm absolutely panicking inside, i just let her get lost in her thoughts with supervision and offer silent support.

eventually, she drops her head down to her knees and sniffles. "i'm so tired."

it's a sentiment i've heard so many times from her and one that i've felt myself. "i know."

"i just—" she hiccups, voice trembling as the chill from the water trickles up her spine. "i'm sorry."

"i know," i repeat softly. "is there anything i can do for you?"

she shakes her head. "no. i don't— i just— i'm not sure."

"that's okay," i make sure to keep my voice as calm and even as i possibly can. "if you don't need anything then that's okay. i'm just gonna be here for you."

"i don't wanna be here," she murmurs, shaking her head again. "i'm sorry."

"you don't need to apologize," i say. "you can just sit here as long as you need. i'm gonna clean up a little though, okay? just drain the tub and put some towels down for the water."

i'm standing as she nods, grabbing towels from the closet and setting them down on select places on the ground. i fish out the orange bottle and unplug the drain, letting the freezing water and the dissolved pills disappear. i continue to work on cleaning the floor, replacing the saturated towels with fresh ones. i put some on the carpet outside.

the next one i drape around her shoulders, hoping that the scratchy fabric will give her just a little bit of warmth. she doesn't react.

i put the stray razor back in the box and then quickly hide them in the bedroom, to be thrown out later. i leave her phone and notebook where they are.

when i've finished cleaning all that i can, i put the last towel down right beside her and sit down. our shoulders are just barely brushing and i don't make any effort to touch her anymore. i just continue my silent support and put my head back on the wall, closing my eyes, now knowing there's no chance of her making a split decision to grab a razor from the counter.

"can i—" she sniffles, voice thick and cracking, "could i just—"

"can you what, love?"

she doesn't finish her sentence. her shoulders just deflate and she sighs. but then her trembling comes back tenfold and my anxiety spikes again.

"okay, baby, i want you to take all the time you need to think and make decisions but i gotta get you into some warm clothes. i'm not sure how long you've been in this water but it's really cold and could lead to hypothermia. could i help you changed? then we can get back to our silence."

she sniffles once more but she nods, dropping her arms to her side. i help her up and practically drag her out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me as if to say this room is now off limits.

she leans against the wall as i quickly pull out new clothes for her, the warmest sweatpants, sweater, and socks we own between the two of us. i set those aside and help her out of her soaked sweats, tossing them into the hamper. she stands nude in front of me, her hair dripping water and tears silently streaming down her face. she has never looked more broken and been more vulnerable.

"i've got you," i say softly as i help her step into a new pair of underwear. the sweatpants follow, and then the sweater. "how about," i pull her hair out from the sweater, "you let me put a quick braid in your hair so it doesn't get your shirt wet, and then we can go downstairs and get something warm to drink? maybe tea or a hot chocolate?"

staring right through me, she nods. i lead her over to the bed and sit down beside her, doing the neatest single braid i can and tying it off. and once it's done, i help her walk at a snails pace downstairs. but i'm happy to walk protectively behind her, making sure that she won't stumble.

she falls into a chair and watches me walk around, putting a kettle on the stove and grabbing two mugs from the closet. i also peel an orange and place it down in front of her on a plate. i don't actually anticipate that she'll eat it, but it's wishful thinking. i'm giving her the opportunity to eat but i'm not shoving it down her throat.

the kettles whistles after a couple quiet moments, so i pour us each a cup of hot chocolate and set one down in front of her. i sit down.

once again, i just let the silence exist. i don't try to force her to talk. talking will only make her feel so much worse. nobody needs that. so i keep a close eye on her as she sips her hot chocolate and passes an orange slice between her fingers.

"i got in," she murmurs, "and i just sat there. and i was so cold."

"but you got out," i try to bring a positive into the situation, trying to break through the negative cloud over her head.

she nods and stares down at the contents of her mug. "i saw your shampoo."

"so you decided not to go through with it?"

"i just thought about you," her voice becomes thick with tears, "and you being upset from a case and coming home and wanting to cuddle and then you just—" she hiccups, putting her face in her hands, "find me like that. spencer, i'm so sorry."

"hey, hey," i pull her chair closer to mine and take her into my arms, tucking her head protectively into my neck, "you don't need to apologize. i know you've been having a hard time lately."

"i don't wanna die."

"i know you don't," i hold her tighter, burying my face in her hair. "i'm gonna get you help, okay? we're gonna do this together."

"i already see a therapist and a psychiatrist and i take meds and i—"

"we'll find something else. we'll find new people if that's what you need. i'm not going to leave you suffering like this again, okay?"

she lets out a cry into my shoulder, her arms winding around my neck. "i'm so tired, spencer. i can't do it anymore."

"i'm sorry," it's my turn to apologize but i know neither of us know what it's for. "i'm gonna help you." i coax her head up and wipe the tears off of her cheeks. "is there anything i can do right this second to help you feel better? at least just the tiniest bit."

she shrugs, perching herself on my lap and wiping away the last remnants of tears. "i've just— i don't— i guess i've been home for three days straight."

"so then let's take a walk. just five minutes. we'll go around the block and come back. does that sound good?"

"i'll try."

"alright, love, let's get some shoes and we'll get going."

i help her up and get her into a pair of shoes, then grab my keys and we head out. she keeps her hand tight in mine and her head on my shoulder. we walk just as slow as we did on the stairs, not rushing anything as we stroll along the sidewalk. i look down and find her eyes darting around the familiar street as if she's never been here before.

"today at work," i say softly, bringing her head up to mine, "garcia was telling us about this new store that opened up down the block from her apartment. she said she went and bought all these new dresses and then she wore one today. she told me that she thinks you'd like it but your style is nowhere close to garcia's. her dress was cool and all but i don't think it's very you."

"mm."

"she said i could ask if you wanted to go, so maybe you could text her about it. oh! do you wanna hear what i read about today?"

"uh huh."

"so today i read all these articles about a new species of shark scientists found on the atlantic!"

i go on speaking for much longer than i intended, much longer than the five minutes i said we would be out. but she makes no indication that she's uncomfortable or wants to go home. so we keep walking and i keep talking, just being together as the sun starts to come down.

"spence?" she eventually mumbles, grabbing my arm with both hands to halt us.

"yeah, baby? what's up?"

"do you have money?"

"yeah, of course i do," i glance down at her to find she's staring across the street at the grocery store. "you wanna go?" she nods. we cross the street and head into the fluorescent grocery store, wandering up and down the aisles. "looking for anything specific?" she nods once more and slightly nudges me down an aisle.

twenty minutes later, we're sitting in a park with pints of ice cream in our hands and plastic spoons, the wet grass dampening our clothes. we eat in silence, not really able to see the sun setting but pretending that we can.

"i would've missed this."

my head pops up at her soft voice, finding her staring down at her ice cream and trying to soften it with the flimsy spoon. "missed what? ice cream?"

"you," she whispers, "and doing things like this with you. i like watching the sun set."

"well, how about tomorrow morning, i drive you to the beach we can watch it rise? and then maybe we'll stay there for the day and watch it set."

"you hate driving and you have work tomorrow."

"i'll take off," i say casually, shrugging. "i'd love to go on an adventure with you. we haven't gone on one in a long time."

i hear her sniffle and see a tear trickle down her cheek. "you'll help me find a new therapist?"

i scoot closer, taking her into my arms and kissing the top of my head. "i'll help you with anything you need. therapists, psychiatrists, medication, anything at all. i want to help you feel better."

"i want to be better," she looks up at me with big, teary eyes. "sunrise tomorrow?"

i press a kiss to her forehead, humming affirmatively. "sunrise tomorrow."