The End is Nigh

just four lil snippets of some bad times with amber and otto. Because I need the pain.

tw: self harm, blood, abuse, cursing.

"Give me your hand." Her voice was cold, carefully contained in the small space. Yet only silence followed. "Give me your fucking hand Otto." She demanded, her own hand outstretched. His eyes were on the floor, studying the tiles of their bathroom. A light layer of grime had built up where the yellow tiles met. And yet that grime was the most intriguing thing he had seen in a while.

She grabs his left hand from out of his pocket. He does little to fight against her. "It was an accident." He utters, the half truth slipping out of his mouth easily. She studies the bandages that lines his knuckles, haphazardly thrown on there to try to stop the bleeding. It didn't work. Blood had seeped into every inch of the once pure white bandages.

She peels it off quickly, making him flinch. His skin was pulled back in some places, the muscle and bone of his knuckle exposed in little triangles. The X's he had etched into each of his knuckles still oozing slow blood. "Accident my ass. You need to go to the hospital." Amber orders, though her feet make no move to leave, her eyes taking in every little detail of his skin.

His eyes immediately widen and he jerks his hand back. "No. They will call my parents." He says shaking his head. He couldn't move his fingers without pain making his eyes blur. "I can't let them know."

"Then I'm calling an ambulance. If you are not going to go then I'll make them come here." She says, her eyes still focused on his hand gripped tight to his chest. His shoulders shake as he continued shaking his head.

At first the words wouldn't come out, his mouth just made the motions of speech. "You can't!" He argued, glancing around the room as if that would help. "Mom finally thinks I'm getting better for once." He says, his voice creaky and steadily getting louder. "And I am!" He adds quickly.

Amber scoffs, "Apparently fucking not."

"If you call an ambulance then I'm leaving you."

She meets his fearful eyes, he seemed more scared of that threat then she did. "No, you won't." She states firmly. "You want to know how I know you won't?" She questions, narrowing her eyes. "Because you need me. Without me, you would probably be laying dead in the kitchen because just one hand wouldn't be enough. Then two hands wouldn't be enough, then simply hurting yourself wouldn't be enough." She snapped, her nose crinkled in disgust. "Nothing is ever fucking enough for you." She closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a cool breath. "I'm calling the ambulance, and you will go willingly, or I will force you." Her voice bubbled with anger and disgust.

Otto's voice faltered to work once more, not entirely sure if what she said was true. He knew she was right to some extent. Had it not been for her coming home he probably would have started carving away on the other hand to make it even. Equal. Even now he felt off balance. Everything in his mind telling him to break the mirror he had been staring into for the past thirty minutes and fix the imbalance.

Though he knew as soon as he made a move she would be jumping at the opportunity to hit him. The way she kept clenching and unclenching her fists told him all he needed to know. And on some level he was positive he deserved it.

Silence filled the bathroom. And he was terrified to break it. So instead he nodded slowly, clutching his hand tighter to his chest. She turned on her heel heading to the phone line in the kitchen. He turned back to the mirror. His face distorted by tears. Blood was smeared on his jaw and neck. His eyes seemed too big for the rest of his face, not wanting to see himself any longer he looked back to the tiled floor. Blood had dripped from his hand to the grimy tiles. He knew he could clean it before it dried and stained the floor. But he couldn't bring himself to.

Amber scoffs, shaking her head. She stood at the end of the bed folding her clothes. "I don't know. I don't think you should go." She continues, looking less than pleased. Her brows were knit together in a mix of confusion and worry, or maybe anger, he honestly couldn't tell at this time.

Otto clutches the phone tighter in his hands, his mother with invited him home next week and now it seemed like he wasn't going to be able to go. "Why not?" He questions, not seeing a true meaning behind her answer. "I haven't seen my family in what feels like forever. You could even come and meet them finally." He suggests.

She laughs, shaking her head lightly. "Yeah, I don't think so. You aren't going." She waves him away like a pesky bug, and he simply stands there in the doorway. Staring at her folding clothes.

"What?"

She sighs, stopping her movements and looking at him dead in the eyes. She looked tired and angry, angry that he even suggested leaving for a second. "You heard me Otto, I don't want you leaving me here alone." She states.

He runs a hand through his hair, a mix of anxiety and regret bubbling up inside him. "But if you come with me-"

"Are you fucking deaf Otto? I said no." She snaps, glaring at him. "Its out of the question." She concludes, going back to her clothes. There was a finality in her tone, but he just couldn't leave it there.

He let's out an exasperated sigh, trying to cling to whatever crumbs she gave to him as why he couldn't go. "Amber, we can sort this out. You can stay with Breannan if you want, and I'll just go for a week." He suggests. He hadn't seen in family in over six months, and no matter how many phonecalls he made it wasn't the same as being there in person.

She scoffs, shaking her head again. "A full week? Why? So you can ditch me? No." She quickly countered, her eyes fixated on the clothes she was folding.

"Ditch you? What does that even mean?"

She looks at him expectantly. "You know exactly what it means Otto." She says with a sigh, he really didn't though. "I'm not letting you go. I don't want to stay here alone, and I don't want you to fall behind on your appointments." She adds pointedly, he didn't have a comebacks for the last one. He searched his head for any way he could go, coming back empty.

He was lost, grasping for anything that could change her mind. "Look, I'm sure once you get to meet them you will love my family." He tries, knowing that they would love her. "You have already met Cain! That's one out of six, and I'm sure Flint won't pay you any mind-"

She glares at him, "The only reason I know Cain is because he showed up without calling, I mind you, at our door in the middle of the night." She lectured, trying to prove a point that he didn'tquite understand. "The answer isn't going to change." He looks at the ground, running his fingertips over the hem of his shirt to try to calm the growing ball of anxiety in his gut.

"But-"

Her hands ball into fists, as she takes a deep breath. "Why are you putting this all on me?" She asks, clearly agitated. "You come to me looking for answers and when I give you them all you do is push my buttons until it changes. Well its not changing this time. You aren't going." She surmised, her voice growing louder and louder with each little word.

He stares at her for a long moment, watching her go back to folding her clothes, placing them in neat piles on their bed. "Okay." He finally says, looking back at the ground.

She let's out a low chuckle. Shaking her head slightly, an almost disappointed look in her eyes. "Wow. Thats it?" She asks with another little laugh.

"Yeah. It is." He replied softly.

She drops, more like throws, the shirt she was folding on the bed, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. "This is why I can't stand you." She says with an unamused smile on her face. "You are insufferable Otto." She spits, anger spilling into every syllable of her words.

"Yep. I know sunflower." He quipped, his mouth in a tight line as he looks down at the phone in his hand. He was the one going to have to make the call.

He walks into the apartment with a small grin, the smell of alcohol clear on both of them. Amber follows him, groaning and rubbing her temples. She slams the door behind her, her movements jagged and tense. She takes a few steps in, glancing over the apartment for any imperfections. With that single glance he knew what was about to occur. His grin immediately fell as his slowed thoughts started to catch up to what was going to happen.

He casually distances himself from her, walking slowly from her side to the side of the couch. Her fingernails dug into her palms, creating hands that would soon be bloody if he didn't act quick. He desperately searched for words that would make her sudden anger melt away. He debated sleeping in the car again, however uncomfortable it was better than being hit over and over again. He didn't want to have to make this decision.

He seemed to hold his breath as the seconds ticked by. Each moment he could feel her growing more and more irritated. It seemed the longer she had to search for a reason to hurt him, the more livid she became. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and as he started to debate just heading to bed he realized there was no way out of this one. If he moved she would question his actions, if he breathed the wrong way he would end up on the ground, there was nothing he could do correctly in this situation.

He kept his mouth closed, it had been less than a minute since they got back. He didn't want to do this tonight. He couldn't anymore. The fear that was welling up inside him had become a regular thing, explaining away bruises to his friends was a regular thing, getting worried phonecalls from Cain explaining again and again that he shouldn't have to go through this was a regular thing. His hands were shaking, his mind a haze of thoughts and fear of what's to come. Suddenly Amber let out a long breath, her hands releasing from fists, and her jaw relaxing.

This was it. His feet wouldn't move despite how much his mind told him to run. She glances over at him, her mouth in a tight line. He didn't want to feel this fear when looking at a person he was supposed to love. He couldn't do this anymore. So he did the most logical thing. "Marry me?" Otto mutters, glancing up from the ground. "I mean- will you marry me?" He asks, his voice cracking, he was surprised he wasn't crying yet.

The question obviously knocked her off gaurd, her confusion was clear and he had no way of knowing if this was actually going to stop her. A confused grin falls on her face as she seems to replay the question over and over again in her mind. "What?" She asks with a small laugh. Her laugh was like rain, beautiful and pure in the moment. But after the shower was done dragging yourself through the mud she created was pitiful. "You're joking right?"

He wanted to say yes so badly, tell her that he was just tired and drunk and that they should go to sleep. But if he said yes then the possibility that she would get angry again would only grow. "No." He finally says with a forced chuckle. He still hadn't moved, his hands still shaking at his sides, and his mind still racing with what could possibly happen. "No, I'm not." He repeats, almost for himself. To remind himself that he just severely fucked up.

She took a step towards him, her eyes wide with delight. It took everything within him not to flinch back away from her. "Really? You want to get married to me?" No. No. No, he really didn't. "I mean, of course!" She looked like a child that was just given a puppy. Her grin seemed to be never ending, and her giggles throughout each word was like listening to rain late at night. Somehow both calm and terrifying. Terrifying because you will never hear what is coming through the sounds of the rain hitting the ground. "Yes. I would love to."

No. He let's a nervous smile fall on his face. He nods, opening his mouth to say something, before he could she runs forwards and envelops him in a warm hug. He wraps his arms around her slowly, trying to find the joy within the moment. This was good, this was going to change things for the better. He loved her of course. This was for the best of both of them.

He takes a deep breath, his hand gracing over the doorknob before opening it. He takes off his shoes outside the door, closing his eyes and hoping that Amber was asleep. His lungs felt like they weren't doing their job. He opened the door slowly and quietly, stepping in silently. He glanced around the room to find no one. Setting his shoes on the ground by the door, he let out a sigh and shut the door. It was louder than expected and as soon as that door shut the bedroom door opened. "You're back."

He turned slowly to look at her. Nodding. "Yeah..." he mutters, his eyes focused on the floor.

A few moments ed before she talked again. "Where were you?" She questions loudly, her voice tense. Her hands pulled into tight fists.

"At Brennan's." He answers, glancing up at her. Her jaw was clenched, and she was glaring at him.

"Why are you out so late?" It was 4:56 am. It took quicker to get here than he expected, he had hoped she would be asleep by this time.

Silence. A long and tense slience. "I lost track of time." He says letting out a long breath. That was a lie. He was counting the seconds before he had to come home.

Her response was quick and curt. Her voice clipped. "You have said that for the past three days." She hissed, wiping her face with her sleeve. He stared up at her, his face blank. Her eyes were red and puffy.

She had been crying, and Otto for once, couldn't find the energy to care. "I just can't handle you right now." He mumbles, looking back at the floor.

Her face shifted from sadness to confusion. Then immediately to anger. "What the fuck does that even mean?" He puts his head in his hands, not sure he wanted to explain. Her hands were clenched into fists, and he briefly wondered if he would be hit with them or something else tonight.

He decides against it, shaking his head. "I don't know. I just want to go to bed Amber, please." He begged, pleading just to go to sleep.

"No. We need to talk about this." She says taking a step forward.

He puts his hand up as if to stop her from across the room. He didn't want to speak more than he had to. Not tonight. "We really don't, look, I'm just tired." He uttered, the bags under his eyes dark and his bones weary from the simple walk up the stairs.

"Sure, sure you are." She snaps, taking a deep breath inward. "Are you cheating on me?" He closes his eyes to alleviate some of the pressure building in his brain. Two weeks, it had been almost two weeks, and almost every night this is what he had to deal with. Accusation, after accusation. He lost everything two weeks ago, and now this was falling apart infront of him too.

He almost scoffs, almost. "No, I’m not." He finally denies, shaking his head. He wasn't one to stoop that low, even after what had happened.

"Are you lying to me?" She croaks, tears falling down her face.

He groans, running out of fucks to give. "No, I'm not lying, I'm not cheating, I'm not doing drugs, I'm not selling my body on the black market, got any other stupid fucking questions?" He snaps, raising his head from his hands to look at her.

"Yeah, I actually do." Tears stained her face, but they didn't seem to be of sadness.

"Then go ahead. Ask away, not that I ever stopped you before." His mouth was closed in a tight line to stop himself from talking anymore.

"Who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" Her voice was like steel and anger, and he knew he was standing on a fine line.

He decided to try to step off that line and try to calm everything back down. He didn't have the energy to bandage anything, he felt like his legs would give out any moment anyway. "Sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have said that. Can I just go to bed?" Otto tries to deescalate the situation, take back his words. He was still standing at the door.

She calmly walks to the table and grabs the grey vase in the middle. It was filled with wilting sunflowers that he forgot to replace. She twists around and throws it directly at him. His arms go up and he tries to move but before he can the vase hits his forearm, right where his temple would be.

It shatters, the glass falling and cutting into his skin. It crumbles to the floor, the warm water seeping into his clothes. The flowers fell onto the floor, facing downward into the hardwood. "Fuck." The word slips out of his mouth, sighing softly and looking up to her from across the room.

"You are a disgusting liar." She spits.

"I'm sorry." He whispers looking back at the floor. The sunflowers he had gotten for her were wilted and brown, limp. He didn't know what he was apologizing for.

She groans, running a hand through her long hair. "Shut the fuck up Otto. I don't want to hear your bullshit." She yells before walking to the bedroom door.

He stays quiet, looking at the damage done to his forearm. A few pieces of the foggy glass were lodge into his arm, blood trickled down onto the floor.

"Clean it up." She orders. She slams the door making him flinch. Instead he leans onto the door, slowly sliding down it with closed eyes. He let's out a deep breath, his legs giving out as he finally let his muscles relax. He closes his eyes, his head against the door, glass still wedged into his arm.