Simple//Tradley:Jonnor

I'm a human being, not a piece of vegetation

I haven't read this through because I'm a piece of shit lol

~

"Tristan, what did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Well obviously you did, look at him!"

Tristan had heard words like those before, when his younger sister had fallen down the stairs and ended up a battered mess at the bottom. But she didn't just fall. She'd been pushed. The blonde could remember it as clearly as he could his own name, which was both good and bad. Good because he didn't blame himself. Bad because he couldn't get the image of his sister's body being bent at awkward angles out of his head.
But it wasn't his fault, no matter how many times he was accused, it wasn't his fault. Much like what had happened to Brad wasn't his fault. Or was it?
Tristan groaned and put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes with his finger tips as he leaned forwards in the plastic chair he was sitting on. It was early morning, around 3:25am, and all he really wanted to do was sleep. However, he was stuck in a hospital room, watching over the emotionless brunette, who may or may not have been in there because of him.
Don't get him wrong, he wanted to go to the hospital to see if Brad was alright, (Not that he cared - he was avoiding feeling guilty), it's just that he hated himself for not letting the nurses take him back to the rehab centre. He had hidden himself from them, and eventually they had concluded that he had ran away and left the hospital in a hurry, when actually he was just lying underneath Brad's hospital bed, hoping that there were no spiders crawling into his hair.
He had wanted to stay to make sure the shorter boy was okay, but after two hours of sitting in the room by himself, he was drowning in the guilt which he was trying to avoid by going in the first place and decided that he wanted nothing more than to leave. Especially as the visit was reminding him all too much of the incident with his sister.
"I'm so sorry Brad" he mumbled, even though the boy was unconscious. The nurses had assured that Brad would be okay, but Tristan still felt bad for what had happened; it was technically his fault, after all, not that he liked to admit it. The tall blonde didn't like feeling like the ill-doings to somebody else was his fault, yet here he was, staring at the boy who had been landed in hospital all because Tristan had assumed he was dumb.

"Why isn't he waking up?!"

"I don't know! Tristan, tell me honestly, did you get angry and hit him?"

The blonde boy ran his hands down his face and rested his elbows on his knees so his palms could support the weight of his head, then let out a groan. He felt like complete shit.
After cursing his past self in many different phrases for not leaving Jonnor the notes he'd written down and forcing Brad back to their room, he got up to go find a coffee machine. He didn't really like coffee much, he'd prefer to find a Red Bull in a vending machine, but he figured he should make himself suffer with the bitter taste of coffee, as a kind of punishment for whatever he had done to Brad. That still didn't mean he cared, though - it was just to help him shed the guilt. Not all of that guilt was even because of the short brunette. Some of it was for scaring James, again.

"No I didn't! Fuck off James, you're being such a prick right now!"

"Don't!"

It was the first time Tristan had heard Connor speak when he wasn't Davey, and he hated that the reason why he did was to stop the lanky boy from hitting James. What a shit person he was - hitting the only people who seemed to give a shit about him and blaming it on anger issues. Tristan was probably facing a sentence of permanent isolation if the nurses blamed Brad's state on him and even if they didn't, he now probably had no friends left anyway. Oh, the joys of belonging to a nuthouse.
Now with a coffee cup in his hand, Tristan made his way back to Brad's room, wondering if maybe he had grown to like coffee since the last time he had tried it. He frowned and took a sip, letting the bitter liquid hit his taste buds.
He gagged.
No, he most definitely still did not like coffee.
"Gross!" He hissed, wiping his tongue as if it would get rid of the aftertaste, scrunching his face up into a grimace, dumping the cup of coffee into the bin. There was no way he was going to torture himself with that horrid taste anymore, no matter how guilty he felt.
"Tristan?" The blonde looked up at the voice to see Brad staring at him, head cocked to the side like a confused puppy dog.