Content warning: possible triggers.

Death is a thing we all know. Death is a thing we all accept.

It's like the price of living, knowing we will have to die. Knowing that at one point, eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up.

But yet, it's always a surprise when it, death, happens to someone we know. Or in this case, someone I love so dearly.

It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a terrifying moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things . And in that moment, you can feel your heart sink rapidly into your stomach as you begin to fall.

And that feeling is implanted permanently inside of me, making me feel like I'm just falling and falling into a dark pit of nothingness, never to find that last step. And when my heavy body did collapse, Austin was standing right here to catch me and sink down onto the floor with me.

I was out of tears, too shocked to cry anymore now. I just want this moment and more importantly, this night, to just be over. I just want to sleep forever and wake up and have none of this be real.

Austin's fingers stroking through my hair help, making my eyelids feel heavy. He lost his mom, he knows the pain... the giant hole losing a parent will create, so he just let me cry. He forgot about all our shit, all our drama and fighting, just to let me sob grossly into his chest, and then slide onto the ground with me when my body couldn't take it anymore. It's funny how small all the drama between Austin and I now seems, even though I felt it once was my whole world.

It is deathly silent in our hotel room, and Austin must have thought I fell asleep, because he starts to shift, his arms moving under my body to pick me up. I let him do it, feeling too exhausted mentally and physically to do anything else. He gently carries me down the hall, into my separated room... not the one that we had just let all of our built up tension out in.

As Austin takes me over to my bed, I realize that everything that happened today with Dom and then him... it all seems so far away, like it happened forever ago.. And as he lays my body down in the middle of the bed, working the sheets and blankets over me, I remember that I thought everything that happened between us would make my world do a complete 360 when really, this is my true life changer...

I lay perfectly still as Austin tucks me in, my muscles tired and achey. But then when he finishes, he stands up and looks down at me, unaware that I'm looking right back up at him with so much in my head. His expression is sad as he takes a step back away from my bed, making a mini panic attack hit me as I realize he's going to leave me here alone. I don't want to be alone right now! I can't be.

My arm reaches up and before I realize, I grab tightly onto Austin's wrist before he can fully turn around. "Don't you dare leave me, Austin Carlile ," I say as sternly as I can, but my voice still sounds frail and broken.

Austin's shocked expression to see that I was awake softens as he turns back around to face me. He stays quiet as his eyes latch onto mine, looking deeply into them. My hand still grips onto his wrist, afraid he's going to leave me, just like he has before. And I need him. I shouldn't, but I do... I need him to not leave me again.

"Please," I croak.

Austin's face softens again in what seems to be understanding, sending a gentle nod and the tinniest reassuring smile. I let go of his wrist in relief so he can pull back the blankets and slide in bed next to me without a word. I don't think about the awkwardness, because It's not awkward. Austin's and my stupid problems are just actually stupid problems right now.

Austin brings himself close to me, laying his head on the pillow above me and looking down so he can see into my eyes. It's dark, but I can still make out his soft, warm brown orbs as his hand moves to start brushing my hair again, like it was a natural reflex. It reminds me of all the times he has comforted me before, wether if it was about Mark or something else stupid.. It all seems stupid now.

My tired eyes flutter close when Austin does this, breathing deeply because I so badly just want to be asleep. I just want to go to that place where none of this is real or happening. I just want to wake up and this will have never happened.. I just want this to all be a nightmare

Thankfully, my body agrees with my mind about sleep, so it isn't long before I start to dose off. Austin's embrace and fingers running through my hair help lull me to sleep and soon, I can feel myself slipping. But not before Austin whispers the last words that echo in my head before my mind goes blank.

"I will never leave you again, Hazel."

***

Waking up the next morning was almost harder than hearing the news the first time.

It seemed like a normal morning, one I would just sit up, stretch, and rub the sleep out of my eyes in. And for a few seconds, my mind tricked itself that it was one of these mornings. For a few seconds, I forgot.

But then I turned my head and saw Austin's sleeping frame; the only trigger I needed to remember.

It was horrendous.

I felt like I had been hit with a thousand ton wrecking ball when really, it was just the force of me remembering the news...

I had set myself in so much denial last night that I actually forgot that my dad was dead. I had hoped it was all a horrible nightmare, but waking up this morning to see it all really happened... I felt like a whole was punched straight through my chest and I had to catch my breath. I felt like a hand had shoved itself into my chest and ripped out my heart.

Maybe I just never woke up from my nightmare?

A lonely tear streamed down my cheek as I stared straight down at the comforter, my chest rising and falling harshly as I wheezed in sadness. It hurt so bad. It hurt like I was physically breaking on the inside. I could feel the pain and I hated it. I hate it so much because it feels like all these months that I've spent getting better and strong, just wasted away to nothing. I feel like I'm weak and broken and back at square one again.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying to make it all go away. I don't want this. I want my dad. I want him to be alive and to help me through this like he always has. I want him to be the one to break all the bad news forever and ever to me, even though he is the news now. I want him to pull me into one of his big hugs and tell me it will be okay because "I'm his daughter and any daughter of his is tough and can do anything she wants."

The picture of my dad saying that in my head was enough to push me over the edge. I had to scurry out of the bed and into the bathroom to let out a cry, not wanting to wake Austin. I don't want his comfort or to talk to him. I don't want to talk to anyone but my dad! I just want none of this to be happening, god dammit!

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn't even think to shut the door before I sunk down onto my knees in front of the bathroom sink, resting my head against the cabinets underneath it. I watched was tears rolled off of my cheeks and dripped onto the floor, my breathing still broken and loud.

I sat here for a while, drowning in sadness and self pity, but then I realized something.

Syd doesn't know.

This had another round of sobs coming out of me, but also fear making my heart thump loudly in my chest. How am I supposed to tell her? How am I supposed to break her already fragile heart? Will she hate me? Blame me?

I let myself cry about it for a while, but with Syd in my thoughts, my crying subconsciously slows down. Because when it comes to Syd, I know I have to take care of her. She is my baby sister and my responsibility. And now, I'm the only adult figure she has. So this can't be about me anymore, it's just her.

So I sit up, wiping my face that is damn with tears as I suck in a big breath. It's time for me to be responsible.

I can't sit here and cry anymore, there are things that have to get done.

I will my shaky knees to stand, using the counter to prop myself up. When I do, I look into the mirror and straighten my posture. I hold my head up high, looking into my own eyes as I put on the best look of strength I can muster up.

I can still see the utter sadness in my own eyes as I do this, and it only makes me want to break down again, but I don't. I can't and I won't. I have to be strong, not only for Syd, but for my dad. That's what he'd do. That's what he'd want me to do.

And I need to be strong so I can get down to business. I need to block it all out because there are things that need to be done besides moping around.

Like for starters, breaking the news to Syd. It should have been the first thing I did last night.

After venturing out into the hallway and finding my phone on the ground where Austin and I were last night, I scurry back into the bathroom and look down at the it. It feels heavier than usual in my hand, probably because I'm dreading to put it up to my ear and make this call. But I have to.

I start to type in Syd's familiar number, my fingers shaking so much that I have to take a deep breath in to calm myself before continuing. Once I get it all typed in, my thumb lingers over the call button, but I just... can't. How am I supposed to do this? I can't do this! I can't break her heart!

I let out a shaky groan and bow my head down, resting it on the phone as I try to contain my cries that make my lip quiver.

My dad was always the one to break bad news to my sister and I. Wether it was something very serious, or even just my favorite hamster, Barney; he was always the one. And he was so good and gentle at it. He comforted me and made sure at a time of sadness or fear, I always felt like I was okay.. That I'd be okay because I had my daddy right by my side.

And even though this time he is the news, I wish he could be here to help me break it to Syd. I wish he could pull me up on his lap or into his embrace and tell me it would be okay like he did when I was a kid. But this time he can't tell me it will be okay, no one can.

It's times like this that make me realize how hard it must have been for my Dad to give us all the bad news he did. He always seemed so good at it, like it was a skill that as a good parent, he had picked up. But I never thought about how difficult it must have been for him and that he was only so good at it because he had to be for us.

Just like I have to be for Syd, right?

I have to be.

I grit my teeth together as I stand up straight again, not letting myself think another thought besides that as I hit the call button and hold it up to my ear.

The phone rings and rings and rings, but no answer ever comes. It goes straight to voicemail and when I hear Syd's happy, content voice tell me to leave a message after the beep, I let out a big, sad breath and end the call as fast as I can. I feel a little bit relieved, but now this new weight has been added to my shoulders. How can I possibly tell her? How can I ruin her peace and happiness? How can I tell her our dad's dead? How can I break her already frail heart?

I can't do this. Why does this have to be happening? I wish this never happened.

I pull the phone from my ear as I glance at Austin to make sure he's still asleep. When I see that he is, I decide I have to make the other call I was also dreading more than life itself.

I have to call the hospital.

I have to know what happened, even though I want to live in my bubble of denial for the rest of my days. This is just part of the responsibility I have to step up and start taking. I've got to be the adult.

I find the hospital's number in my contacts and dial it, letting out a sad, shaky sigh as I hold the phone up to my ear. My heart was thumping fast in my chest as it rang. Deep down, I really do not want to know what happened at all. "Western State Hospital, this is July speaking," a female receptionist answered. "How can I help you?"

"Uhm," I had to clear my throat, my voice being hoarse and shaky. "Hi, uh, my name is Hazel Hendrix and my father is..." I had to stop and swallow, trying to keep my composure and stop my heart from freaking out. "Was a patient and..." I trial off, but lucky the lady recognizes the name.

"Oh," she says, not making me continue. "I'll send you through to one of our caretakers, okay, hon?"

"Yes, okay. Thank you," I stutter, a little relieved I didn't have to actually explain why I was calling as the line goes silent for a minute. I wait, staring lifelessly into the mirror until the line makes a clicking noise and a new voice picks up.

"Ms. Hendrix," Heather says immediately into the phone, her voice sympathetic. I know who Heather is because she's the doctor that I met when we first dropped my dad off, but also the doctor that I used to talk to for updates on how he was doing. "I'm so sorry for your loss, sweetheart."

"Thank you," I say numbly. It's the only thing I can think to say.

"I guess I know why you are calling here, I just wasn't looking forward to the call," she says, laughing sadly a bit. Heather is very nice and obviously, doesn't want to be the one to tell me bad news, either. I stay quiet, knowing if I tried to do the same laugh she did, I'd utterly fail.

I hear her sigh and then some shuffling on the other side of the line before she speaks again. "Your father, Mr. Hendrix, hadn't been taking his pills," she starts off the horrible news with. "He had been hiding them from our knowledge.." A little more shuffling occurs. "His Schizophrenia was in it's worst stage and he was far past our help.. He was determined, sweetheart," she sighed, having trouble with delivering the news. "He took his own life last night. We found a note saying that 'they', the voices, made him do it. I'm sorry, hon. There wasn't much we could have done."

My lips pressed together in a fine line as I squeezed my eyes shut, bringing my hand up to pinch at the bridge of my nose. Instantly, I was flooded with guilt and sadness that was so bone deep it made me shake. But I kept my composure.

"How'd he do it?" I ask, my voice bland. I could tell by her silence that she was shocked, and a little confused, by my reaction. She probably expected me to be crying and freaking out, not numb and determined.

"Well," she continued when she shook off her reaction. "Like I said, he had been hiding all of his pills. We believe that he took them all at once, and then to, uhm, make sure it worked he propped his bed up and hung himself from the metal bed frame. "

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, so badly wishing I didn't have to hear that because now, I picture it. I picture my daddy hanging from his bed. I picture my daddy killing himself and it's almost too much to handle.

"Thank you," I blurt out numbly before ending the call as quickly as possible after that. I didn't want to hear any more.

I take my phone and squeeze it so tightly in my hand that my knuckles turn white. I bring that same hand up and hit it lightly against my forehead that is bowed down as I try to process this.

My dad killed himself.


Austin's p.o.v.

My mind was awake before my body was, so I rolled over in my bed to try and get more comfortable to try and fall asleep again. But when I turned, I got a face full of blankets.

I rubbed my eyes before I opened them, but when I did, I sat up a bit to see what was going on. I saw that I wasn't in my own bed, but in Hazel's, instead.

Oh shit.

My eyes widened when I remember what happened last night, fear striking in me when I saw that Hazel wasn't in bed next to me. I had brought her in here after I told her what happened. After she denied it and cried and cried so much it started to break my already broken heart. It reminded me of when my mom died and I knew how she wass feeling. I just wanted to take it all away because I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy...

I had woken up to the sound of her obnoxious ring tone last going off last night non stop and after getting so tired of hearing it, I went searching for her phone to shut it off when I saw that she had left me in the bed, and room, alone. I meant to just turn her phone off, but then I saw the caller ID and knew I had to answer it, just in case it was an emergency, like it was.

As soon as a doctor told me that her father was dead, that he had killed himself, I was shocked so badly that I was just silent. The lady had to keep asking "Sir? Sir, are you there?" until I finally responded. I just couldn't believe it and I had almost just hung up and kept it a secret from Hazel so she didn't ever have to go through hearing what I just had. But I didn't do that, instead I just thought of her dad.

I thought of the pocket watch that, coincidentally, was in one of my bags. I thought of when he gave it to me, when he gave me his blessing... But then I thought of when he called Hazel, specifically just to talk to me.

*
"Do you remember the promise you made to me?" He asked and I was quiet for a moment, knowing that I'd feel guilty with my response. "You promised me you'd take care of my baby girl." I gulped, my throat dry and scratchy as he spoke. I remembered that exact moment now. I remember when he gave me his pocket watch that I still have in my bag because I couldn't seem to just toss it in a drawer at home. I couldn't.

"You're going to keep your promise," he states like it's not up for argument. But I still open my mouth, barely getting out a sound before he cuts me off. "You are going to do this for me. You are going to make sure Hazel is happy. And when she's sad, you're going to make sure it's never for too long. You're going to stop her when she starts blaming herself for everything. You're going to make sure she doesn't feel responsible."

"Responsible for what?"

"Just promise me, son," Hazel's father says after a moment of silence. "I need you to do this for me."

*

It hit me now, why he was being so insistent. He had to make sure someone would take care of Hazel when he was gone... He needed the reassurance so he could... So he could go.

"Fuck," I said aloud, running a hand over my face. This is all a mess, a big, big mess.

Does Hazel even know how he died? I know she will eventually, but I understand now why her dad also told me to make sure she doesn't feel responsible. He doesn't want her to blame herself for his death, and I understand where he came from because I worry about the same thing now, too.

It also worries me where she is right now. I'm reminded of the time on Warped that she ran off, got completely wasted, and we found her half dead. That was the night we found out she was pregnant...

I shake my head as to shake the thought away, shoving the covers off of my body and swinging my legs around to set my feet on the floor. I rub my eyes once more, looking at the clock to see that it was 7 in the morning before standing up.


I peered around the room and near her side of the bed to make sure she wasn't in here. When I saw that she wasn't, I was about to start my path to leave the room when I saw the light from the attached bathroom glowing into the darkened room.

I looked at it for awhile, afraid of what might be inside, but also preparing myself. It takes a lot out of me to comfort her, especially now when all I can think of is my mom and all the pain Hazel must be going through. But when I realize that's a little selfish, I start making my way towards the bathroom.

She doesn't notice me as I come up, talking on her phone as I do. I don't want to interrupt her call, so I just lean against the doorway, looking at her with sad eyes. She has one palm pressed against the bathroom counter as the other holds the phone to her ear. She looks down at the faucet as she listens to whoever is on the phone with an expression that doesn't even seem to be an expression because it's so bland. There's no sadness or happiness or despair to read on it. It's just blank.

I wonder who is on the other line, hoping it's nothing too bad. I don't think this for too long, though, because almost immediately after I do, she says a very quick "Thank you" and ends the call.

She still doesn't notice me as she hunches down to rest her elbows on the counter and starts hitting her forehead softly with her phone. I watch her as she does this, obviously caught up in her thoughts, but then also when she sets the phone down harshly on the counter and stands back up straight.

A hand comes up to pinches the bridge of her nose as she mumbles something under her breath. When she does this, I notice how hard she's trying to hold it together. Or more importantly, to hold herself together.

This is something that's new to see because the Hazel that I used to know, would be having an anxiety attack right now. I don't mean that in a rude way, but that's just how she was. She was fragile and actually made me feel like I was needed.

And since the first time I saw her after we broke up, I noticed how different she was. How she seemed stronger.. How through all the fights and shit, she stayed strong and held her ground. Sure, she did cry that one time, but that was nothing. Even last night it was nothing compared to her scary anxiety attacks she always had. And right now, she is doing... too well.

I almost take that thought back because Hazel's hand drops from the bridge of her nose and there is a long moment of ear piercing silence as she looks down at the bathroom counter right before it happens. Something snapped inside her and in a split second, she started to pull and push and throw everything that was on the counter, off and onto the floor.

I jumped up, shocked, and unsure what to do as I watched her with wide eyes, the clashing sound of things falling a breaking echoing around the room.

She bent down and used her arms to brush the rest of the stuff on the counter she missed with one, broad swipe that shoved everything to the ground.

Thankfully, now she had nothing left to throw.

After all the crashing and bouncing of objects stopped, she huffed and looked at the mess she made. She kept brushing her hands through her hair before letting them rest and she stayed still.

Her eyes moved up to look in the mirror and now, she saw me standing behind her. Our eyes met through the reflection while I waited for her to do something, but she didn't, leaving us in silence that seemed louder than all the breaking of the objects. I decided it was up to me to do something, so started to come towards her.

I was a little hesitant, not sure how to comfort her when we aren't necessarily on the best of terms. Or maybe it was just that after last night and what we did, our terms are just... weird. But that didn't stop me from wanting to just pull her into my arms like I could when we were dating. I didn't, not sure if I should... Or could.

"Hazel.." I say lightly as I step over the bar of soap that landed near my feet, trying to get closer to her.

At the sound of my voice bringing her back to reality, she closed her eyes and sighed deeply. I watched her, hands twitching to reach out for her. She didn't open her eyes again for a while, making me wonder what was going on in her head until, finally, she opened them and spoke.

Her voice was shaky and for some reason, her words pricked me right in the heart, making it break again for her.
Barely above a whisper, she spoke, her voice cracking a bit mid sentence.

"I'm not ready for this."

Notes

hey guys! Sorry for these sad chapters:( Trust me, they are very hard to write because I like get into it way too much and listen to sad music and picture everything so I'm a mess hahaha!

I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter and feel like my writing was a little rushed and pooey, but i want to update soo bad for you guys! Thank you so much for all the comments and stuff, they make me so happy and make me just want to write sosos much more! I really hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think! <3