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Chapter Text

Luke drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair in which he was sitting, chewing his lip ring nervously. His phone buzzed as he frowned, pulling it out and looking at it.

hows Michael

It was Calum. Luke looked up at the door across the sterile looking hallway and sighed.

not done yet

ok let me kno when he is

Luke slid his phone back into his pocket and looked back up at the door across from him, impatient.

After Michael had been sent to the hospital, everything had been put on hold. Luke had to give management credit for how smoothly they were dealing with everything- though the press they were getting was making up for it. Luke tried not to think about that and made a note to not allow Michael near social media. 

Michael had agreed to stay with Luke and they had decided to get an apartment together so Michael could have complete privacy. Even though he knew Luke's family, the only people he really wanted to see were his bandmates.  

They had only settled into the apartment that morning. Michael had been released from the hospital at nine and Ashton and Calum had brought the last of his things over before Luke and Michael went to Michael's psychiatrist appointment. Luke was nervous and wished he could be in there with him but he didn't know if it was allowed.

The days since Michael had...well, had tried to kill himself had passed in a blur. Luke's brain had been put on hold as he ran here and there, visiting Michael, getting the apartment, moving his things, setting up psychiatrist appointments...

Now that everything had relatively settled down, Luke could finally think. And it was horrible. What if Michael didn't get better? What if Michael had lied about trying?

A million what ifs charged through his brain and he shut them down. He loved Michael and Michael loved him, and he was going to show him that loving Luke meant loving Michael. He was going to show Michael what an amazing person he was. He was going to show Michael just how much he loved him which would be no easy feat. He was going to show Michael everything that he saw in him. He had a lot to do with Michael and he was going to show him that too so that he would know he couldn't just leave. That he couldn't just try to rid the world of Michael Clifford because that world would be a dark place for Luke. 

The door opened and Luke jumped to his feet eagerly. Michael walked to Luke and silently wrapped his arms around him, leaning his head on his shoulder. His psychiatrist followed him out of the door and looked at the two of them, her expression thoughtful.

She was middle-aged and her blonde ponytail was flecked with white. She had kind but piercing grey eyes. Luke knew her name was Brenda Evans because he'd spoken with her on the phone several times. He'd liked what he'd heard about her and she seemed nice enough. 

Michael pulled away and sat down in the chair behind Luke. Brenda held her hand out and Luke shook it.

"Nice to meet you face to face," she said to him.

"You too," Luke said awkwardly. "How did it go?"

"I think that I'd like for you to sit in on our sessions," Brenda said. "Michael asked me and I think it would be good. I think he'd feel more open."

"Sounds good," Luke said. "I'd like that. Uhm...what- what do I need to do?"

Brenda looked at him for a moment and then seemed to understand. "Well, considering the fame and the possible negative feedback, I would suggest you monitor his use of social media if he feels comfortable with that. He should always be with someone, at least for now, and he needs to keep himself busy. Not to distract himself, because he needs to tackle this head on, but to keep him from only thinking about it."

"I'll make sure of that," Luke said. "He's staying with me."

"Good. Then I can expect you at our next session?" Luke nodded and she glanced over at Michael, who was staring down the hallway. "Alright then. I've seen worse cases than him but keep a close watch. He's got a tougher facade than most and that worries me. I got him to talk about you, which he did a lot, but he wasn't open about much else. Get him to talk if you can."

"Alright. Thank you." Luke shook her hand again and she closed her door behind her.

Luke turned and sat down in the chair next to Michael. The other boy turned and looked at him and Luke smiled at him.

"I haven't been able to really see you," Michael said softly. He seemed cautious, like he was holding back, and Luke didn't like it. 

Leaning forward, Luke wrapped his arms around Michael, and Michael buried his face in his shoulder again. "I know, but we have lots of time now. We can go to the apartment and just talk if you'd like."

"I'd like that," Michael said. 

"Alright, then," Luke said, pulling back and standing up. "Let's go home."

"Home," Michael echoed, a slight smile playing on his lips. Luke get a bit victorious and he took Michael's hand, smiling widely at him.

The apartment was only a few blocks away and they walked back. It was January so it was cold, but the air felt clear and clean, and it was bright outside. Michael leaned into Luke's side as they walked and Luke squeezed his hand lightly. He quickly texted Calum and then turned his attention fully on Michael, taking in the boy's appearance. 

His hair was still black and his skin was as pale as ever. His coat seemed to swallow him up and the shoulder that brushed Luke's felt too sharp. But Michael was still just as beautiful as he had always been, scars be damned. Luke turned to look him in the eyes and smiled, and Michael's green eyes smiled back, crinkling at the corners.

They reached the apartment building and made their way up to their apartment. Michael clung to Luke's hand as if he needed the contact and Luke let him, feeling almost as if he needed it too. It was silent when Luke shut the door behind them and he didn't like it. 

"We used to talk all the time," he said finally. 

"I'm sorry," Michael said, and he let go of Luke's hand.

"No, Michael, I'm not finding fault with you!" Luke turned, cupping Michael's face and ducking down to meet his downcast eyes. "I just miss you. I want to help you get better so that you and I can talk all we want, so that you can feel free to tell me anything and everything. I want to get to know you better."

"I love you," Michael said, his voice cracking, and Luke couldn't stop his own smile. 

"I love you too, Michael, so, so much."

Michael bit his lip and Luke noticed that look again, the one that meant that Michael was holding something back.

"What is it?" Luke asked softly.

"I- I just wanted to kiss you again," Michael said shyly, not meeting Luke's eyes. "I missed you and-"

"Hey, it's okay. You can kiss me any time you want, Michael. You can do anything. I want I know what you want."

Michael bit his lip and nodded. Luke's heart broke for him again as he thought about the confident boy  he met in high school, the one who gave back as good as he got and laughed at everyone. He wondered if Michael had ever actually been that person. 

Michael still looked hesitant so Luke leaned in, pressing their lips together softly, pulling Michael closer. Michael wrapped his arms around Luke's neck and kissed him back quickly, clinging to him. After a moment Luke felt something wet on his face and pulled away, looking at Michael worriedly.

"Michael...babe, are you crying?"

"Can we- can we lay down?" Michael sniffled. "I'm tired." 

His face was wet with tears and Luke blinked back some of his own. 

"Of course." 

Michael had asked to share a room with Luke and the room Luke led him into had one large bed. He pulled off Michael's coat and reached for his sweater. Michael cringed.

"Michael- hey." Luke tilted his face up. "I've seen it and you are not any less beautiful, okay? I love all of you."

"Okay," Michael whispered. Luke took off his hoodie and pulled him into bed, settling him between his legs where Michael couldn't see his face when he looked at his arms. 

Michael wasn't any less beautiful but it was hard to look at. Both of his arms were a mess of angry red lines and blue stitches holding the edges of his skin together. They were all so close together that it was hard to see any pale skin under it all. Luke held his breath and tried to keep from crying because he knew that Michael already was. He could feel his shoulders shaking against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Michael choked out, and he grasped one of Luke's arms, holding his hand against his cheek. His stitches rubbed slightly against Luke's own wrist.

"Don't be," Luke told him, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "Don't be sorry. Just be you."

Chapter Text

Michael lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Luke was curled into his side, an arm flung around him and one of his legs hooked over Michael's left ankle. His even breaths were ghosting over Michael's neck and Michael wanted to turn over and wake him up. His mind was going a mile a minute and he needed to talk to someone. But Luke was sleeping and Michael didn't want to be any more of a bother than he already been.

He felt absolutely horrible. If he'd just been stronger, if he'd just put up with everything and not tried to kill himself, the boys wouldn't have to go in for interviews without him and meet with management and put everything on hold.

The guilt was eating at Michael and he needed to do something. He gently pulled out of Luke's grasp and stood, heading toward the bathroom. He'd hidden several razors in different areas the minute he'd been left alone, and he immediately went for the one in the bathroom.

He closed and locked the door before turning to the mirror, pulling it off the wall and turning it over.

The razor was gone. 

"Damn it," Michael muttered, guilty at having been found out at some point. A piece of paper fluttered to the floor as he set the mirror back in its place and he picked it up. It was folded and his name was scrawled on the front in Luke's familiar handwriting. 

His hand shook for some reason as he slid to the floor and unfolded it.

Michael, 

I found the razor several hours after I got home. You were asleep and I just knew, somehow. Maybe I don't completely understand the urge to hurt yourself like that, but I do understand that you feel as if you need it. I know it's not something you just get over at the first sight of a sunny day. I know that you're going to need help, and, Michael, I can't help you if you refuse to tell me when and how. 

If I'm gone, call me. If I'm in the next room, go find me. If I'm asleep, go wake me. 

I love you, Michael. Let me show you that.

Luke xx

Michael dropped the letter and covered his face. His body wracked with sobs and he sat there for a moment, trying to get himself under control.

A few tears were still trickling down his cheeks when he left the bathroom and headed back to the bedroom.

"Luke?" he said softly, sitting next to the sleeping boy.

"What?" Luke asked sleepily, stirring and opening his eyes. When he saw Michael's face he sat up, the sleepy look fleeing his own. Michael felt the tears come back full force and he covered his face with his hands again. 

"I- I needed to talk- I went to the bathroom and- and-"

Understanding dawned on Luke's face. "Hey, Michael- babe, it's okay. I'm here." He grasped Michael's hands and gently pulled them from his face. "What's wrong?"

Michael threw his arms around Luke and buried his face in his neck. He felt assured there. 

"You're all going through so much because of me, because I couldn't be strong enough to just put up with all of this. I wish none of this had happened!"

"None of it?" Luke asked, and his tone made Michael pull away to see his face in the dim light. He looked hurt, pained.

"No!" Michael hurried to explain. "Not- not you knowing I love you and- and knowing that you love me for some reason I can't figure out. I'd never want that to go away or be forgotten!"

"'For some reason'?" Luke repeated, and the pained look on his face didn't go away. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you love me?" Michael asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. Luke stared at him, his eyes glassing over with tears, and Michael cursed himself for making Luke cry again. 

"Michael, Michael, Michael." Luke grasped Michael's face gently, wiping away his tears with his thumbs even though he was struggling to see through his own. "There are so, so many reasons as to why I love you. Why millions of people love you. I'm just the lucky one that you love back."

"I don't fit in with the band, I'm not as talented or as kind as you are, I'm not as thoughtful or articulate, god, Luke, I keep making you cry. I'm just a wreck of a person and I don't see-"

"You don't see yourself, that's what," Luke said. "You don't see Michael Clifford, you see someone else entirely. But me? I see Michael Clifford. And he is so talented, so kind, so 'articulate', so beautiful, and so just perfect, that anyone would cry if they knew that he doesn't see any of that. And you know what? I am so fucking in love with him that I can't see straight when he's around."

"Luke," Michael cried, clinging to him. "Luke-"

"Michael, it's okay. None of us care about postponing things or going to interviews to explain things. All we care about is you and whether or not you're going to be okay. I just want you to be okay, Mikey."

"I'm trying," Michael cried, "I'm trying for you."

"No, Michael, try for you. Do this for me but godammit do it for you too!"

Michael cried for a good while but he slept well after that, feeling safe in Luke's arms.

Chapter Text

Michael had been thirteen when he first tried cutting. It had terrified him and he hadn't tried again for several months. 

Then his dad left and no one was there to say it's not your fault, so he assumed it was. He was their only child and they'd been fine before him, hadn't they?

He'd figured that he had fucked up somehow and he determined to be the best son he could be for his mother since she'd lost her husband. He didn't even notice when his dad completely lost touch with him as he tried all kinds of sports and pulled all-nighters studying. He'd kept steady A's but sports didn't work out. So he had tried music and got great grades.

But his mom hadn't noticed. He'd dropped out of music and his teacher had left his mom messages asking why. His mom hadn't noticed. He'd dropped from A's to C's. His mom hadn't noticed. She never noticed. 

So he had tried again. And when he felt the slide of metal through skin, he was caught, just like that. He cut when when his friends left, he cut when he failed to make it on more sports teams, he cut when his mom forgot to pick him up from school. He cut when she didn't come home and when she forgot to make dinner for two people. And he cut when he found out he was bisexual. He started burning himself on special occasions. 

Then Calum started coming over again. They'd known each other  since they were little, but the past several years had drifted off. Calum didn't know what was wrong, didn't see any of the scars, but he did see that Michael was secluded, that he had cut himself off from everyone else, and he remembered the happy little kid he'd met who had loved people and talking and being loud. The cutting slowed down as they became best friends.

Then came Luke. Michael learned that he thrived under attention and when Luke came along, Calum started paying more attention to him. Looking back, Calum was just trying to get to know him, but to Michael, Luke was trying to take away his only friend, the only person he had in the world.

Eventually, that seemed to click with Luke. He fought past Michael's barriers and they eventually became best friends. Michael stopped hurting himself.

They started the band and Ashton joined and they sort of just...exploded. They were getting famous. Michael felt like he fit in, finally. 

It went well for a while and then two things happened. First, Michael  realized that he was getting more hate than the other three boys. Second, he fell for Luke. All of his old insecurities rushed back in like a dam had been broken and Michael felt helpless. He'd never told anyone about how he felt or how he had hurt himself. It came to a climax of sorts and he decided that maybe everyone would be better off without him. Every day that passed felt like it confirmed his feelings.

Then last New Year's had rolled around and he'd started writing the letters to Luke about how he felt. He'd contemplated suicide for a while but had his ups and downs until he realized he was actually in love with Luke. That had tipped everything over because he felt like he couldn't be good enough for Luke. 

Then the year ended and Michael's time was up. He left the letters at Luke's house and headed back to his apartment where he sliced his wrists and fell to the bathroom floor, unconscious. 

The next thing that happened would be forever imprinted on his mind. He woke up with Luke over him, panicked and sobbing, talking to him and trying to stop the bleeding. And he realized, in that moment, that Luke genuinely cared about him. He'd felt like that was all he needed before he left. He felt comforted and almost content. But he also felt pain, because Luke was in pain, because Luke was upset and he'd made Luke cry and Luke had seen him like that, bleeding out and emotional. So he closed his eyes and willed for his life to leave him. 

But he'd woken up. He'd woken up and felt hurt and angry and upset. He'd hated himself more because if his failure and he'd tried again. He failed a second time. He don't want to see the boys, he just wanted to die. He don't want ten to change his mind because he thought they shouldn't. Then he read Luke's letters and he did change his mind. 

He loved Luke and Luke loved him.

Most of that he had never told anyone- before now, sitting in the psychiatrist's office but facing Luke, telling Luke. 

Luke who he made cry every day. Luke who was crying right now.

"Luke...please, don't cry." Michael leaned forward in his chair and took Luke's hands. Luke took a deep breath and smiled at Michael shakily, squeezing his hands as if to reassure himself.

"I'm sorry," he said, "it's just that it's hard to hear that you could believe any of that. And your mom-"

"Luke, it's okay." 

"No it's not!" Luke exclaimed, his eyes boring into Michael's. He looked furious, but Michael knew his anger wasn't directed at him.

"Please, no shouting," Brenda said.

"Sorry," Michael said. Luke stared at her defiantly before deflating and apologizing too.

"I need to ask you some questions, Michael," Brenda told him. "This isn't an interview- we're not on national tv so you can say whatever you want and no one else will hear it. Are you ready?"

"Okay," Michael said, releasing one of Luke's hands but keeping his hold on the other.

"Do you think that your job makes your issues worse? Do you think it's a bad idea?"

"No. I mean, sure, getting the hate from people was a blow to my self-confidence, but there's also a ton of support. More support, actually. I just didn't see it. And music is- music is all I can do, all I'm remotely good at. It's also helped me through a lot and I'd be worse off without this career. The biggest thing, though, is being around my bandmates all the time. They've had to be my family and even though hey didn't know what I was struggling with, somewhere deep inside I knew they cared and would want I help. That was the turning point, where I changed my mind. Hearing, especially from Luke, that I was more to them than I had always seen myself sort of opened my eyes."

Brenda nodded and Michael felt relieved.

"Do you have anything to add, Luke?" She asked. Luke squeezed Michael's hand gently.

"First of all, Michael, we don't 'have' to be your family. We want to be your family. Second of all, I don't know how you possibly didn't see how much I cared about you. And hearing that you stopped hurting yourself after we became friends- I want that to happen now, I want to be enough for you like I was back then."

Michael bit his lip to fight back the tears but he also couldn't help smiling. Brenda nodded again, studying Michael's face for a moment and writing something down. 

"One more question and then our session is over," she told them. "Michael, how do you feel now?"

Michael hesitated. "I don't know- I can't quite put my finger on it. I just- I still feel depressed, it's not gonna just go away, but I also feel like maybe I can get through this. If Luke's with me, if Ashton and Calum are with me. They're worth getting through this for. I sort of owe it to them too, after all they've been through because of me."

Brenda seemed satisfied. "Well, go home and think about it at random times during the day. Take note of when and where you feel the best and worst. Would you mind if I speak with Luke alone?"

"I don't mind," Michael said. He stood and bent to kiss Luke on the cheek before leaving the room. 

Luke turned to Brenda as the door shut. 

"I know there's a lot on your shoulders right now," she said. "Do you need to let anything out?"

"He's insecure about me," Luke said. "What am I suppose to do with that?"

"He has some insecurity about you,  granted, but he has much more security in you too. Right now you're what grounds him. Don't feel discouraged or guilty. Just keep doing exactly what you're doing."

She stood and Luke followed suite. 

"Thank you," he said before following Michael out the door.

Chapter Text

Luke sat next to Michael on the couch and turned to look at him. 

"Are you sure you're fine with seeing them?" He asked Michael. 

"I should. I owe it to them and they've gone through a lot because of me."

"Calum told me that if you weren't ready, they don't have to come." Luke leaned against Michael and wrapped his arms around him. Michael leaned into his touch.

"I'm fine," Michael said. "If I can't talk to two of my best friends I'm never going to get better."

"If you're sure," Luke said, frowning hesitantly.

"I'm sure," Michael said, and Luke nodded. He kissed him on the cheek and stood as a knock sounded on the door. 

He opened it and Michael heard muttered voices before Calum and Ashton walked in, standing awkwardly by the door. They'd visited Michael in the hospital a few times, but they hadn't seen him in a while. Michael didn't know what to do. 

He stood up. "Um, hey."

"Oh fuck it," Ashton said, throwing his arms around Michael. Calum laughed and followed suit and Luke tried to envelop them all in his long arms. Michael felt content, some of the turmoil in his brain easing away. 

"I think we need to do something together," Calum announced. 

"Let's go get pizza," Michael said, all of his nervousness suddenly gone.

"Are you sure?" Luke asked Michael, looking at him anxiously over Ashton's shoulder. 

"Yeah," Michael said. "I haven't been outside since my last appointment and I haven't seen Calm and Ashton since I got out of the hospital. I think we should."

"Okay," said Luke, "let's go."

Calum grinned. "Of course it would be pizza," he teased. Michael felt himself smiling. 

"What else is there?" He joked, grinning at Luke when the other boy handed him his coat. Luke smiled at him softly and Michael took his hand as they went out the door. 

There were several pizza places nearby and they all argued before Michael insisted that Luke pick. Ashton and Calum rolled their eyes but acquiesced, and they walked the few blocks to it. 

They were almost there when Luke spotted a pap across the street. Michael was chatting non stop and Luke didn't want to ruin Michael's surprisingly cheery mood, so he nudged Calum and motioned toward the pap. He and Calum shifted, blocking the man's view of Michael and returning to their conversation, hoping he'd leave.

They reached the restaurant without anyone coming up to them and Luke breathed a sigh of relief when no one there recognized them either. At least, no one ran over and started talking to them. 

Michael seemed to have been quiet for too long. He talked about news from the months before since he hadn't seen any recently and he talked about their new album. He talked about a new song he'd written that he wanted to go over with the boys. Luke sat next to him and smiled, happy to see Michael talking and laughing. 

Calum and Ashton were acting as if nothing had happened and, at the moment, Luke noted that it was the best approach. The only person other than Luke that Michael saw was Brenda, and all they talked to her about were Michael's problems. It was good for Michael to have a carefree day. 

They left the pizza place and were just heading back to Michael and Luke's apartment when a camera clicked behind them. Suddenly there were people milling around, swarming the four boys and blinding them with flashes. 

"Michael! How are you doing after being released from the hospital?"

"Michael, what's it like having survived?"

"Do you have anything to say to people struggling with your problems?"

Michael blindly grabbed the nearest boy, shutting his eyes tightly and hiding his face in their shoulder. It was Ashton, and Michael felt Luke's arm curl protectively over his own shoulders. 

"Enough!" Calum shouted. He stared them down and Luke let go, standing with him in front of Michael and Ashton. "How can you even call yourselves human? Do you have no sympathy? He's had a terrible few months and I have no qualms about laying the blame on people like you, all of you!"

"Calum." Michael pulled away from Ashton and pushed his way toward Calum and Luke. "Stop."

"Michael-" Luke started, but he cut himself off. 

"You can put this wherever you like," Michael said. "I'm not doing so great. Today was one of my best days and you've all just ruined it for me. But, contrary to what you want to hear, having survived is going to be amazing. It's hard right now, but these three are completely backing me up. And my advice to people with my problems is this." He turned and looked at one of the cameras, his hands sweating but his voice even. "Surround yourself with people like my best friends. And shut out the people like all of these, clamoring to be the first with a headline about me other than just my hospitalization. Because they'll kill you but these three," he turned to Calum, Ashton, and Luke, "they'll save your life. Now I've spoken to you, so go and figure out how to best twist my words."

He turned and walked away, the three boys trailing behind him. No one tried to stop him- they stepped out of the way and watched silently, cameras rolling. 

_______

Luke woke in the middle of the night with the feeling that something was horribly wrong. Michael had gone to bed the minute they got home but he wasn't beside Luke when he woke up. It was still dark and Luke couldn't hear a sound. 

He stood, scanning the room before opening the door and walking into the livingroom and kitchen area. 

After a while he decided that Michael might have gone to the bathroom and he found that the light was on, beaming under the crack beneath the door. 

"Michael?" He said, pushing it open.

Michael jumped guiltily and Luke heard something clatter to the floor. He watched its path as it skidded. It was a razor, and there were two more laying next to Michael's leg. 

"Michael, no!" Luke knelt by the sitting boy, pulling his arm up to examine the cuts. There were only a few shallow ones as there wasn't much room around the stitches, but Luke's stomach turned at the sight.  

"Luke..."

Why didn't you come to me?" Luke demanded.

"You were sleeping," Michael said, pulling his arm away from Luke. 

"Michael, I told you," Luke couldn't help but feel angry. "I told you to come to me! Am I not helping you at all?" 

"I hate being so hard for you!" Michael let out suddenly. "If I hadn't tried anything you three wouldn't have been stuck in that crowd of paps. We'd be recording. We'd have interviews. And I wouldn't make you cry!"

"If you hadn't we wouldn't know what you're going through, and I wouldn't know how you felt about me. Is that what you want?"

"No, Luke, I just feel so damn guilty all the time!"

"Is this the first time you've cut since you left the hospital?"

Michael fell silent and Luke's blood ran cold. 

"Michael!"

"I've cut twice," he said quietly. "Just twice."

"How many cuts?" Luke asked hoarsely. 

"Only seven," Michael said, but it was barely a whisper. 

Luke picked up one of the unused razors and gritted his teeth. Michael was looking at the floor and didn't see the first slash. Luke felt dizzy but he set the razor against his skin again, determination coursing through him. 

"Luke, stop!" Michael grabbed for the blade as blood trickled down Luke's arm. "Stop, you're bleeding!"

Luke stood and made the next two quickly, moving out of Michael's reach. Michael followed but didn't get the blade until Luke had seven cuts on his arm, a few drops of blood hitting the white tile. 

Michael was crying. "Luke, why'd you do that? Why?" 

"Now you know how hard it is," Luke told him, fighting off the urge to grip his arm and cry. "Now you know why you can't just do this."

"You don't understand," Michael protested. He frantically dug around and pulled out the first aid kit. "You don't understand," he repeated. 

"You're right, I don't. This hurts like hell. But I want you to understand that this has to stop. Right now." 

Michael was silent but he was still crying when he pulled Luke over to the sink, running water over his arm. Some of his tears fell on the cuts and mingled with the diluted blood. Luke was silent too when he pulled his arm out and Michael dried it, wrapping it with practiced hands and taping the gauze down. 

"You're bleeding too," Luke told him. Michael took the rubbing alcohol and poured some on his arm without a sound. He yanked his sleeve down and left the bathroom. 

He still didn't say a word to Luke when he slid into bed with him.

_______

Luke's arm still hurt like hell the next morning when Calum and Ashton showed up. Michael had locked himself in the bathroom but Luke had removed all of the sharp objects and felt confident that he wasn't hurting himself. 

Calum noticed his arm right away. 

"What did you do?" He asked, motioning to it. 

Luke sighed. "Michael cut himself again last night. I sort of showed him what it was like to see."

"Luke! That could have been really bad!" Calum scolded him, worry darkening his face. "Much as I hate to say it, Michael knows what he's doing. You don't. What if you'd nicked an artery?"

"Look, Calum, I did it higher up and I'm doing the best I can with what little I know, okay? I don't know how to help him!"

"How did he take it?" Ashton asked, cutting Calum off. 

"He won't talk to me," Luke said. "He's really angry."

"How did you bandage that?" Calum asked. 

"Michael- Michael did it. He washed my arm so carefully and bandaged it up and when I told him he was still bleeding, he just dumped rubbing alcohol on it and went to bed." Luke's eyes filled with tears and he bit his lip. "I know he cares about me, but he doesn't care about himself at all!"

"Luke..." Calum pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. It's just that Ash and I are worried about you too. Michael's going to have his ups and downs for a while and we just have to bear with it, but none of us is alone in this, alright?"

"A-alright. I need to go and...go and talk to him."

"We'll come back tomorrow," Ashton said, taking Calum's hand. "Come on, babe."

They left and Luke stood outside the bathroom door. He heard a few quiet sobs and his heart broke for Michael. 

"Michael, please let me in. I need to talk to you."

Silence. 

"Look, Mikey, I'm sorry. I'm just really worried about you."

The lock clicked and the door opened, Michael flinging his arms around Luke's neck and sobbing into his shoulder. Luke hugged him tightly and just stood there with him for a moment, letting him cry. 

"I'm sorry," Michael said. "I should have told you. I just felt so guilty-"

"Focus on the good things, babe, like when we were sitting with Calum and Ashton. Just forget about the paparazzi. Not everything's awful right now."

"I- I won't cut again if you promise you won't do that to me," Michael said. "I mean, I guess I can't promise to never do it again, but if you promise not to, even if I slip up, I'll try my best. Just don't ever do that again!"

"I promise," Luke said. "Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear," said Michael, holding up his hand with a small smile. 

Chapter Text

Michael found the first one while getting a midnight snack. It was closer to two o'clock than twelve but close enough- either way he'd woken up hungry and decided to disentangle himself from Luke (who was a fucking octopus by the way) to get a snack. 

He opted for cereal and opened the cabinet, only to stop as something fell to the floor. When he stopped to pick it up, he realized that t was a scrap of paper, Luke's familiar handwriting covering it. 

You are beautiful, Michael. 

That was all that it said, but Michael felt his eyes burning as he blinked back a few tears. He ate his cereal and when he went back to their bedroom, he tucked the small piece of paper between the leaves of his lyric book.

_______

He found the second one tucked into the pocket of his favorite pants while at the studio. He, Luke, and Brenda had discussed recording and decided that Michael could use something to distract himself, so they were recording on a loose schedule. He'd just finished recording his first vocal solo on the album and sat down while Calum worked on his own vocals when he heard something crinkle in his pocket. It was Luke's handwriting again. 

You are talented, Michael. 

He looked up at Luke sitting a few chairs away and smiled at him. The blonde smiled back and Michael felt a warmth settle in his chest.

_______

He found the third one while Luke was out. They had to do another interview and had insisted on the presence of either Luke or Michael to answer some questions about the past few months. Luke had gone very reluctantly and reminded Michael not to look at social media.

He looked at social media. It was stupid, he knew- but he'd once been so comfortable with it, he'd once been able to get past the hate and seen all the love and felt happy. 

Why were other people so happy about his problems? Luke had said on several occasions that they were people less fortunate than themselves, that they were bitter and jealous and that that was all. That Michael wasn't what they said he was. But it was so hard to believe when they seemed so sincere. 

He ended up stumbling to the bathrom, numbness settling into his chest and three voicemails sent to Luke. He knew he couldn't answer but it hurt. His dependence on Luke made him feel even worse.

He opened the medicine cabinet and fumbled for his antidepressants. They weren't a magic cure-all but maybe they could help. He couldn't remember where he put them. 

Pain, he needed pain. He grasped his arms, fingernails digging into his marred flesh, pushing into his scars. Pain. 

Then something in the medicine cabinet caught his eye. It was a piece of paper. 

You are worth so much, Michael. 

His arms fell at his sides and the tears finally came. He curled up on the bathroom floor and clutched that piece of paper like it was a lifeline. 

Luke came tearing in a while later and hurriedly looked Michael over. He'd heard the voicemails and panicked. Michael showed him the now tearstained note even though he knew Luke had been the one to write it. 

Luke understood and held him while he confessed and cried. 

_______

Luke passed him the fourth one while they were out with Calum and Ashton. Someone had hit on Luke and he knew Michael was feeling down about it, knew that Michael felt like he dragged Luke down with him. 

You are everything I want, Michael.

He slept well that night, Luke curled protectively around him.

_______

He got the fifth one after they did a radio interview and someone called  in just to tell Michael they thought he was a horrible person. They got cut off and Luke and Michael took a minute off air together while Calum and Ashton kept the listeners entertained. Michael was feeling better about those kinds of people, though, and they returned before too long.

The scrap of paper was on the sink when he went into the bathroom that night. 

You are amazing, Michael.

He tucked it into his lyric book with the others and made sure to kiss Luke goodnight before they curled up together. 

He knew exactly where he'd be without the other boy and it wouldn't be good. He owed him so much. 

______

The sixth one came after an argument. Michael dipped low again and didn't tell Luke. He only found out when he confronted Michael about his antidepressants. He'd stopped taking them. He didn't like being dependent on anyone or anything. 

"It's not forever," Luke told him. "Just- please. You need them right now."

They made up before he got the note. It was on his nightstand when he went to bed. 

I love you, Michael.

Luke was already asleep and Michael turned to look at him softly. He'd never deserve him, but he was going to try his damned hardest. 

He set it back down before he realized there was writing on both sides. 

I love you, Michael. 

Don't ever forget it. 

How could he? It kept him alive. 

Chapter Text

Michael felt himself smiling as he looked out at the crowd. It was their first show back on tour after he'd been hospitalized and the crowd was full of signs welcoming him back and telling him they loved him. He felt exhilarated. There may have been bumps on the way but he knew this was what he was meant to be doing. He was meant to be making music. 

Luke threw an arm around him, smiling widely at him. Ashton got down and Calum came over, and they bowed to the crowd, waving at them. The moment was ruined, however, when a bra sailed through the air and hooked on the neck of Calum's bass. Calum jumped and Ashton lost his balance, falling and pulling Luke down with him. Michael barely stayed on his feet and he almost fell over laughing anyway. He helped Luke up and they exited the stage, listening to the crowd scream as they left. 

Michael was sweaty and exhausted but happy. 

_______

It was early the next morning when Michael woke and realized that Luke wasn't curled up in his bunk with him. He checked Luke's bunk but his boyfriend wasn't there. 

Sliding down, he wandered toward the front area of the bus. 

"Luke? Babe, where did you go?"

"Here," Luke's voice called from the lounge. He sounded a bit muffled and Michael frowned. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Luke was curled up on one of the couches and there were tears on his face. Michael hurried over to him. "What's wrong?"

Luke curled into his side. "I-I was reading your old letters," he sniffled. "I just remembered how- how hopeless you were and how much you hated yourself."

Michael saw the letters scattered next to Luke and frowned. "Why were you reading them again?"

"I want to remember everything about you. And now that you're doing so much better I wanted to remember what you've gone through and how far you've come. I sort of needed the reassurance."

"Luke, I know I'm still not perfectly fine but I'm doing well. You don't need a before and after picture, okay?" Michael ran his fingers through Luke's hair, reassuring him. 

"I love you," Luke said, wiping his eyes and sniffling again. Michael curled his arms around him. 

"I love you too," he said. "I love you so much, I decided to live for you. I decided that I should get better for you. And I am, okay? Don't worry about the past. It's always going to hang around a bit, what with my scars and all, but we came move on. And I can be an example for others out there, you know? Think about all the people that have come up to me since this happened and told me that they decided to give life a shot because they saw it working out for me. Because they saw someone was getting better and decided that they could too."

"I know. I just wish that no one ever felt like that, that no one ever had to struggle with anything you went through," Luke said, pulling Michael's hand into his lap and holding it.

"I know. You're one of those people that feels things right along with others. You're very empathetic."

Luke giggled. "You're turning into a nerd, Mr 'Empathetic'. Maybe you're secretly a Ravenclaw."

"Secretly? Why secretly?" Michael protested. "I find your lack of faith disturbing."

"You're such a nerd," Luke repeated. "And I'm in love with you." 

"Hm. Well..." Michael pretended to think. 

"Michael Clifford!" Luke slapped his arm.

"But I already said it," Michael whined. 

Luke wrapped his arms and legs around Michael. "I'm not letting you go until you say it back."

"Get off me, you octopus!" 

"Nope."

Michael stood and scraped Luke off, dropping him onto the couch. "You have to catch me!" 

"Michael!" Luke ran out the door after him. 

"Oh my god, go to bed!" Calum shouted after them. 

"What? Who died?" Ashton stuck his head out of his bunk and yawned.

"Tell me you looooove meeeeee," Luke whined, pouncing on Michael's back. They went down with a thump. 

"Ugh. Fine, I love you too, I guess."

"You guess?" Luke raised an eyebrow. 

"Fine. I love you, Luke."

"There you go." 

"Fuuuuck, this is so not punk rock."