T w e n t y T h r e e

S c a r s  N e v e r  F a d e  A w a y

When I was twenty, I had fallen into the wrong side of my moral code.

At the beginning, it took a toll on me. I hated it so much. The feeling of every inch of your body, withering and feeling like it was burning over a hundred degrees. Your eyes begin to see white dots forming into view and the clawing of your fingers as you try and snap at your throat.

It was even worse when I couldn't even hear myself cry.

But as I began to continue it, addicted to this habit of hiding and taking: it began to numb me. I forgot to realise those thoughts, the worries that I hated myself at doing. My mind palace piling in hateful stacks of memories as every comment I heard racked through my head.

It was weird - to feel.

To take it and feel yourself flood with tears. Because - in the depth of my mind - I think I was living in two worlds. One moment, I would be cold, unaware of opinions. And then the next I was yearning to tear myself apart.

"You know I hated it... when I found you." George muttered, the disgusted tone in his voice carried.

I had this conversation quite a while back, memorising how I reacted.

"To think you were wasting your life...Your fucking life!" He shouted, exasperated. "You are treasured with the gift that life gave you. And the one thing you do: is do that!?"

I rasped back, not wavered.

"George...you don't understand."

"Fuck I do understand!" His eyes flared with fury. "You're under pressure. Doing three flipping degrees at the same time! And you've never gone to me, or Pippa or Georgia! No...you fucking join some posh druggies and get high!"

"You know I was brought into this," I frowned, but I tried not to clench my fists. "I-I had no other choice!"

"No fucking..." He sighed and growled. "That man...Ralph has no fucking right to do that!"

Then my anger seeped through. "And how are they going to believe me? I'm a freak! No one likes me!"

I tried to tell him, that I was alone that time, and that when I had gotten back to Chelmsford to meet with family, I was cornered and persuaded.

George understood. But he was one of many that never accepted the fact that I had fallen into that trap. Maybe I didn't understand it myself, in personal way. I loved my life then. No mother to disagree with, no new step father to neglect my place in the family. No one calling me a freak and calling me names.

But the mind is a fragile thing. And that is why I enforced it with concrete and decided to create a full on border control towards my emotions.

Because, what Darker Me said: was always going to be true. She held all the power in me - the calm after the storm. The one who used up all their emotions and just turned full out assassin.

Fuck. That is horrid to remind myself of.

____

"Do you think she'll wake up?"

"...Dunno...it's been two weeks..."

That was George's voice. Oh shit, I hadn't wanted to see him first despite how there was a tingling sensation in my chest that sensed some sort of relief.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" Tom's low and gentle voice spoke. I imagined his hand falling to his partner's shoulder - comforting himself and probably George too.

Then, There was a silent echo. But after a few seconds, there was a small click and the feeling of wind and coldness wafting over my face.

"He's gone now, [Y/N]." He sighed.

I then opened my eyes and tried to form a side smile. But as my muscles contracted, there was a numbing spark of pain surging up my cheek. Oh right, 'Susan' had given me Christmas present - if you counted cutting my cheek one.

However, I did not give a witty retort back as my chest heaved with deep pangs. It was worse to then see his own self.

The curls of his hair were unruly, causing it to flop and limp on his forehead. His eyes were swollen red, blotched with tears as his right hand entangled themselves over mine and his other swiping his cheeks forcefully.

"Oh my fucking god!" He choked out. "Don't ever fucking do that to me ever again!"

Something in my chest felt something. And my head almost hurt from thinking what emotion I was enduring now. It had pained me, though, to watch him be tormented by my own bruised corpse.

"I'm a tough ass cookie, man." I muttered hoarsely, building up the bile in my throat. "Burnt but not crumbling."

"Are we doing this, right now?" He said, stifling a mixture of a cry and a laugh. I wanted to grab his hand once more, tell him that this was not a dream - that I had survived what I endured.

But George carried on, and I didn't speak. "Oh god. I mean. You're actually alive! You're not in a fucking coma. You're here, talking. And talking about cookies!"

His rambling continued, and as a true friend - I respected him and found myself even smiling back how he had found out about me.

The mention of my uncle was the first thing that got me interested enough to change the warmth glow in my body. He began to discuss how my uncle contacted him on what had happened to me, only to George personally. George had then mentioned how angry he was that I had gone into field without mentioning a thing to me. I then reassured him, sternly, that it was my job to do so and not given to anyone else's.

I knew then he understood, when his toned voice relaxed, and he went back to talking about the operation.

"God, how the hell did you survive a shot like that?" George raised his eyebrows.

Cheekily, I spoke, "Are you planning to shoot anyone, George?"

"Nope," He popped and furrowed his eyebrows. "God. I'm a fucking wimp. If I even get the kitchen knife out, my hands begin to sweat."

"You should really stop with the avocado toasts." I leaned back into my pillow - earning myself to hiss in pain. I shouldn't have moved.

A smirk formed in my friends face.

I scowled back before he then defensively returned, "Well...if someone comes and tries to shank us in the night: you're the first one I'm going to go to."

"Of course." Rolling my eyes, I then asked him to help me prop my pillows up.

He had done it so carefully, rambling on about the hospital beds that we hadn't noticed someone enter the room.

It had been Tom, a widening smile forming on his lips as he met my eyes. He had been carrying a Co-op bag, with a plastic carton of pasta, sandwiches, fruit and a water bottle.

I tried to give a wave of my hand, but only my fingers rose from the palm George hadn't been handling.

He lulled a plastic chair next to George, and all three of us cringed before he could sit down and pestered George into eating.

"Are you trying to fatten me up?" I watched my best friend eye down at Tom incredulously.

Tom slowly said, "No...wait how does giving you a pasta salad, a banana and water make it seem I'm trying to fatten you up?"

"It's just..." George trailed and the two of us were raising our eyebrows at him. He then looked down, cheeks flushed. "I don't bloody know! I haven't been myself at all during Christmas and I haven't eaten a lot."

I asked back, "Has he been eating?" But the question had mostly been for Tom Bates - who made a grim expression.

He then answered back that George hadn't been eating well since I had gone into hospital, and even the Christmas dinner with George's family: the said man hadn't even piled up his plate.

I think I could understand George's reasons. He...was entirely emotional to my sense. My best friend was always a worrier, too worried for me, our job, our flaf, our money. Every little single bit of life. And the moments where the responsibility now relied on him, I can see the contrast of him.

George combed through his curly hair, "I know I should be taking care of myself. And I thank you for that, a lot." He looked at Tom, his eyes falling to glistening orbs.

Tom smiled faintly, leaning next to the tall man and holding his free hand in George's.

Somewhere, there was a tingling sensation, once again falling at my grace. It's been a whole while since I've felt like this. Times like conventions or small moments give much of a smaller feeling of it. But what I felt in my chest had something unchained.

"So tell me," I coughed out from my dry throat. "What happened, exactly?"

Both of them glanced at each other, and I observed quite easily that this was going to be a long explanation.

George took a deep breath, and I let my fingers still wrapped around his. "So Dr Stapleton, the doctor who directed it, said that you got shot in your lower abdomen."

"They said the gun was pretty good quality, supposedly to kill you quickly since the bullet was inside of you," Tom strongly said, eyes a bit lowered.

George followed, "And they didn't believe you could have made it." He huffed, a little aggression in his voice before he then whispered, "You were dead for thirty seconds."

I heard a pin drop.

My mind rattled into trying to find a source of memory, ignoring the plummet of temperature in my bodh as more mucus built up in my throat.

"I uh...died."

He looked up and gazed at me, attempting to not shrill back at my simple answers. I would have expected him not too. George was tired, and I was too.

"When those words left...I couldn't imagine what would happen if he hadn't said the 'for thirty seconds' part."

"George..." I twitched my fingers to tap at his, pulling the pattern of arpeggios before I smiled. "I am here. I am alive. And I am..." Pausing, I then calibrated at what I was about to say.

In my head and beliefs: I knew that I would never know when I would die. Heck, it could be years, months, the next day. All throughout my job, these beliefs have been drilled into my codes - embedded so I can realise that I shouldn't give myself false hope. But giving someone else hope...

"As I said-" I said more softly. "If Chuck Norris decides to fight me tomorrow...or next week...I will always try. But...I can't assure you..."

"I know," It pained me when I heard those words escape his mouth. George wiped another tear from his eyes and continued; "And it goddamn hurts when you're right."

____

Dr Stapleton had been checking up on me every day since I woke up. It had been a few days since I've last seen George and Tom. And I had ordered George to go home to eat and sleep. Before Tom Bates left, it was had politely asked the man to always be make sure he was there for George.

The day after that, everyone seemed to think they can go and invite themselves in and sap at me for twenty minutes.

Don't get me wrong, it had been nice - when it was just once a day.

Then things got a little out of hand and then thank god: the only sensible one had been Katie - who had kicked the Hat Lads out and told them that they would be 'taking turns' when conversing with me if they couldn't control their behaviour together.

"Okay," Katie sat herself beside me and passed me a set of books. "You're probably so bored the last few days, and that big head of yours is probably decaying right now..."

I chuckled as I gladly took the book from next to me. "Thank god. At first, I was hoping George was ready for a book or a Sudoku..." Sighing, I opened the cover and looked at the woman with a thankful smile.

"Oh you'll get bored by that, [Y/N]." Katie gestured about the Sudoku, and then notified that she had gotten them anyway as a Christmas present for me.

They were some books about several children who were peculiar (hinted with the title of the book), and lived in a stopped timeline.

"So," Katie began. "I was about to ask about what happened. They didn't tell me exactly the details."

So once I've reminded myself that not everyone can know my job, I always had to come up with sorts of white lies. It was easy to tell them, I hadn't been lying fully and majority of the time: no one cared to ask or I'd always hide or recover from it. Though, when friends came to view, it had gotten harder to relinquish the concerns and the suspicions.

"There was a shooting," I said with a low voice, my finger drew over the stitches over my cheek. "I was trying to get away and I fell..."

I continued, "Some broken glass...I think. Yeah, someone probably knocked it off the table..." I muttered. "It went right into my cheek and then someone grabbed me."

Katie's eyes widened, watering as I then said I had gotten shot and fell unconscious.

"Okay, I forgive you playing your flute every morning... if you promise me you stay in that flat more than going outside!" Katie ordered with a waver in her voice, almost causing me to yell at her - almost agreeing to her.

But as myself, I only returned it with kind smile, and let her hand find mine. "Hey, the only bad thing is..."

"What, [Y/N]?" Katie questioned.

"Bye bye bikinis."

____

The next people that visited me had been Hat Films, who had arrived at the same time with Katie. It was the middle of January, and they were back from their holidays and just frequently laying off recording videos for the months. I agreed with their idea, since the month did have a lack of revenue and I hadn't considered it.

"Oh, god!" Smith groaned as he entered the room. "Didn't sombody tell you how shit you look, mate?"

I rolled my eyes, "Lovely to see you... my favourite trio."

"You offering yourself, [Y/N]?" Smith smirked, eyebrow raised.

Ross added, "I think she's asking if we do foursomes. Things like that come with a sort of fee..."

"Oh!" Trott gasped. "Maybe we can show her what we've been filming!"

A little louder, I interrupted. "Guys! I think I'm fine. Thank you for your consideration."

When the trip calmed down, we turned back to the usual considered politeness - at Hat Films standard - and just talked about what's been happening. Most of the subjects had directed into the Jingle Jam, and there was feeling of isolation when they had mentioned jokes I had to think twice about or memorise the thoughts of the Yogs fucking around for charity.

"Wished you were there, sunshine." Trott patted my arm.

I sarcastically replied, "Yeah, but unfortunately I was quite a bullseye on that night."

"Oh don't be a Turps, [Y/N]," Ross joked. "Has Lewis been teaching you dad jokes?"

When the mention of Lewis, I snapped when I pain in my head soared through and stopped myself from moving again. Luckily, Ross hadn't noticed (or anyone) that it had affected me for some reason, so I just shook my head.

"Not that I'm aware of," I hesitated. "So, tell me more about your music stream. I remembered you doing the Pleasure Elf Album the year before."

"We made some weird fanfiction song, thing-"

"Yeah. It's called Shipping and Receiving."

"And we're making a very depicted music video for it."

So it gone back down hill afterwards, but in a 'oh god why' way thought it did had been trying not to laugh as my wound was still healing. It then turned to how they were insisting of bringing me into the mix to help with any music plans, but I shook my head and told them that I had no intention in ruining their trio band.

Afterwards, Smith had to mention again about the secret Santa gifts. I then told them that I had bought mine but I had 't given it to them.

"Oh, Sjin got it alright," Smith burst out laughing and the rest chuckled a long. "Fucking loves it!"

Well...I think giving Sjin a kazoo was okay - at a certain degree.

The trio left soon afterwards, letting me relax with my book and their gift, which was apparently a set of picks, a card that had said 'Happy Christmas, you prick' and some chocolates.

They were a nightmare to handle - almost like children - but sometimes there was no harm in having a bit of banter once in a while....or more often as I knew it for the foreseeable future.

____

I heard a knock from the door.

"[Y/N], it's me: Dr Stapleton." It was slightly muffled, and it hadn't help when there was a layer of voices getting louder in the background.

Curiously, I looked past from where the doctor had entered in: and in just a second, I could only hear nothing.

My mother had decided to visit me.

And she was arguing with Lewis.

____

A/N: Ooh shnap! That was quite cliffhanger.

Firstly, I did not want to do make this chapter into two parts! I really did! But fuck me...there is a lot of fucking content and character build here. She's suppose to change somehow but most of this has been them just bantering about.

I tried to condense some parts, even removed one important scene where Turps (the Dad Bod) talks to her *SPOILERS* supposedly.

But yep. Here's part uno. Hoped you enjoyed :)

-SierraOwls