"Melissa, p-please… get yourself out…" Lucas whispered. "Shut your mouth, boy. You killed my son." "I-I didn't kill Claus, dad! P-Please, he killed himself after mom died, remember?" Lucas's father struck him across the face again. "I said quiet, boy. Get the hell out of my house." He growled, tossing Lucas aside like a piece of garbage. "D-Dad, please! I didn't do anything wrong!" "Get out!" Lucas tried to grab his things, struggling to stand up.
Melissa only now realized what was happening, snapping out of her anger. Pushing pass Lucas's father, she bent down on the floor next to him. “Hey, don’t move. I’ll get your stuff.” She told him, petting his cheek. “We can come back and get more later. If it’s still here.” She whispered, before standing back up.
Lucas nodded weakly, and his father just scoffed again and left the room. Lucas forced himself up onto his hands and knees, breathing heavily as he tried to gather himself. Blood was stained across his cheeks from his tears smearing it, and he was still shaking violently.
“Lu, that’s so much worse than you said it was.” She whispered, gathering his things, and pushing them into a spare backpack carefully. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? How on earth have you been making it like this?”
"I-I'm alright, I… I just need a second…" After a minute or two, Lucas managed to pull himself to his feet. He supported himself on the wall, still breathing heavily. "It's really not all that bad… I'm f-fine."
Melissa gathered a few more things, staying quiet. She wasn't ready to start arguing with him, it didn't seem fair. "Fine. Is there anything else you need before we go?" She asked softly, looking around his room. "I have a weeks worth of clothes in here, and other things that seemed memorial."
"Um… I-I have pictures in my room of Claus and my mom… did you happen to grab those?" He asked weakly, turning his eyes up to Melissa. "And… and I think I've got another sketchbook in there somewhere… sorry about my room, by the way." Lucas's room was a complete mess. The wallpaper and drywall was falling apart, his 'bed' was just a torn up mattress in one corner, and he'd left used blades on the floor. The carpet throughout the entire house had bloodstains, presumably from Lucas.
"I didn't grab the other sketchbook, but I grabbed the pictures. Where's the sketchbook?" She asked softly, setting the backpack beside him. Leaning forward, she slid her arms around his waist in a hug. "I can grab it, but I didn't see it." She whispered, head resting on his chest. Melissa didn't care that his room was a mess, she only cared if he was OK. Clearly he wasn't, but there wasn't much she could do until they got to her house.
"Um… I put it under the tall dresser. I didn't want my dad to find it." He hugged Melissa weakly and sighed. "I'm so sorry you have to see all of this, Mel…"
"It doesn't matter, you being safe does." Being gentle, she pulled her head back to look up at him. "I'm sorry you had to endure that, once I grab your sketch book we can go." Melissa smiled softly, pulling all the way back. "Stay here, and I'll be right back." She told him, turning to go grab the sketch book.
Lucas nodded, rubbing at his teary eyes when Melissa left him alone. He felt really lightheaded, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep himself conscious.
Pulling out the book, she tucked it under her shoulder. "You don't have a car, right?" She asked softly, strutting up to him. Giving him a hopeful look, she kneeled down, and pushed it into the backpack.
"No, I don't… sorry…" Lucas leaned against the wall, breathing heavily again. "I-I think I'm gonna pass out…" He whispered weakly, running his fingers through his hair and wincing when his fingertips brushed the shards of glass that were still embedded in his scalp.
"W-what?" She asked panic, standing up to look at him. Melissa had zero clue what to do. If he knocked himself out, what was she going to do? "How am I going to get you home? I can't carry you the whole way." She continued to whisper frantically. "It's getting dark too."
"Sorry, sorry…" Lucas took a few deep breaths, trying to ground himself. "M-Maybe we can get a cab or an uber or something?" He suggested weakly. "My vision keeps going…"
Forcing herself to calm down, she pulled his arm around her shoulders. "Let's get outside, and figure it out." Melissa told him, scooping up the backpack as well. "Lean on me, all you want, just stay conscious. Please, until we figure out a way home." She begged him, attempting to lead him out of the house.
Lucas nodded weakly, allowing Melissa to support him as they walked outside. "I'm sorry, Mel… I-I'm trying my best…" He whispered. "I just… I don't know if I can make it all the way back…"
"I know, and I'm not asking that much of you." Glancing around the corner, she continued to support him on their way outside. "I just need to get you outside, and if you can't hold on, you can blackout." She mumbled, coming up to the front door.
"Okay… okay… if I pass out, I shouldn't be out for too long theoretically…" Once they were outside, Lucas gripped Melissa a bit harder, his knees growing weak. "Mel…?"
"Y-yeah?" She asked weakly, knowing what he was going to say. She led him over to a grassy patch in the lawn, before looking back up to him. She was barely holding herself together, but it was for his sake. She had to.
"I… I think I need to sit down…" Lucas slowly lowered himself onto the grass before he collapsed, clearly unconscious. He was weak and shaky, though he was out cold.
"L-Lu?" Her voice was small, and broken clearly she was ready to cry. When he didn't respond, she pulled her phone out to call someone to give them a ride. She decided to call her cousin Brett, being the first person on her calling list.
It didn't even take two rings for him to answer, and they were already having a brief conversation. "Mel, that's all the way across town from the coffee shop." He sighed, rubbing his face. Melissa was just as frustrated, glancing over to Lucas. "I know, but I can't call anyone else. Lucas is out cold, and I need to get him to my house. I don't have a car, and it's getting dark." Another sigh came from Brett, followed by silence. "I'll be there in ten." Then the dial tone. The relief that flooded over Melissa, was an overwhelming amount. She fell back on the grass, looking to Lucas's face with a soft smile. "We're gonna be OK, Lu." She whispered, her gaze falling on his lips. 'Stop it Melissa!' She yelled at herself, but it was in an echo. She didn't even know what she was doing.
In a matter of seconds her lips pressed against his, and pulled back before she could process anything. She didn't really even want to; so she didn't.
In exactly 15 minutes, Brett pulled up in his little car, a soft smile on his face. "Hey Mel. Come on, let's get you two home." He called out, clicking the door open to help her get Lucas and his things in the car.
(I'm assuming we want to skip until they get to the house?)
(Yep)
Lucas didn't come to until he'd been on Melissa's couch for fifteen minutes. He stirred a bit, grimacing as he opened his eyes. "M-Melissa?" He called weakly, his voice broken and quiet. He coughed a bit and winced as he forced himself up into a sitting position. He still had shards of glass in his side and in his scalp, which hurt like hell.
(Would Melissa have kept Brett there to help her fix up Lucas?)
(Yeah, though it was probably more like Brett was offering to stay)
Hearing Lucas's voice from the other room, she got up from the chair in the dining room to go check on him. "Be right back," She told Brett, pecking his cheek before making her way into the living room. "Lu? Did you call me?" She asked softly, peeking her head around the corner into the living room. Her warm smile was in place, noticing he was indeed awake.
"Mhmm…" Lucas rubbed his temple with one hand, wincing again. "W-What happened? The last thing I remember was sitting down… did I pass out again?" He asked weakly. "How did I get here…?"
"It's nothing to worry about," She hummed coming over to the couch, sitting by his feet. "How bad are you feeling? Are you good enough to get fixed up?" She asked softly, petting his knee gently. As she spoke to him, Brett came into the room, leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.
"Um… I feel like shit, but I'd probably feel better if I didn't have glass in my head." He sighed and leaned back against the couch. "Does Brett know what happened? Also, when did Brett get here??"
Melissa laughed lightly, glancing over her shoulder to him. "He came to help, because I asked him to." Giving him a warmer smile, she shifted her gaze back to him. "Can you stand? Or do you need help getting into the bathroom?"
"I have no idea, honestly." Lucas forced himself up onto his feet, swaying a bit. "Um… I might need some help…" He quickly grabbed onto Melissa's hand so he wouldn't fall. "S-Sorry, Mel…"
Pulling his arm around her shoulders, she gave him a loving smile. "It's alright, I have you." Melissa hummed, sliding her arm around his waist. "Just like always, I'm here to help." Whispering, she led him along into the bathroom. "Where does it hurt most?"