Chapter Text
“Everyone has their breaking point…"
_
The room is booming. It feels like thunder, or an earthquake, but… he knows that it’s worse. Because those harsh claps of thunder- the violent tremors of the earthquake- are voices.
They’re all yelling, and screaming, and drowning each other out… He isn’t sure how long they’ve been going at it anymore, isn’t sure how it began, isn’t even sure what they were fighting over in the first place… because they’re drowning him, too.
Their words are nonexistent- they’ve all blurred together. The noise, however… that he feels. It’s tangible, and he wishes with all he has that it would stop. He wishes he could make it stop.
But he can’t.
The others have tried, he’s sure. Attempted. But now they’re all just waiting for it to die down. Waiting, waiting…
He can never do anything. And he’s tired of waiting.
He’s so tired…
The world is blurring now. It has been for a while, he thinks- slowly, yet all at once; the words melding together into noise piece by piece; the emotions that were left-the rage, the frustration- nearly mirroring his own… Nearly.
But it’s hard to mirror echoes.
Everything is just so loud. And they won’t stop, ever. It will never stop. The noise is endless and, for some reason, he finds that he can’t listen to it anymore.
He can’t take it anymore.
He isn’t sure when it happened, isn’t sure of when that little thing inside of him snapped, but he’s standing.
He’s not sure of anything now other than how much he wants it to end.
There is one more sound- just one- and it comes from him. It’s excruciating as he listens, as his hands slam into the table; as he hears the boom- the crack of thunder that silences the rest. It’s excruciating to feel.
It hurts just as much as being numb.
The wood splinters underneath his hands, but he hardly feels it. He looks out at them because they’re staring- all of them. The room is utterly silent.
He realizes he’s said something.
And he knows what it was. He knows it was louder than all of them. He could feel how it echoed through the room, how it trembled as his hands are now. And he knows that unlike all of their stupid, petty, heated words… he had meant them.
They stare, and stare, and he realizes that the silence isn’t much better.
“Al..?”
The brief, merciful break comes from his right. He can hear the worry in his brother’s voice, the concern that is unlike anyone else’s in the room. But he can also hear that bit of confusion, and it kills him just a little more inside.
No one knows… No one knew.
They don’t know what’s happening, and neither does he.
He can’t look at his brother, at any of them… but, somehow, he does. He meets their now concerned gazes, and he knows that more than just his hands are shaking. His eyes are stinging violently, but he just doesn’t care enough anymore to hide what is coming.
When he speaks, his voice is softer than before. “I get it, okay..?” The fight is gone now. He’s done. He’s finished. “You won.”
There is no answer to his words… not right away. He vaguely wonders how he looks to them. A madman? Someone begging for release..? He doesn’t know. He looks away, and finds the table.
The broken table.
As he stares blankly at the pieces, there’s a sound. A spluttering. He thinks that it’s Ivan, but he isn’t sure. He doesn’t know.
Then, again, there are words. The voice that guides them is familiar, and it holds a tone from long ago… even when it can’t finish. “Lad, what-”
He doesn’t let it finish.
He clenches his fists, and grits his teeth. He repeats- he pleads- once more,
“Just shoot me.”
_
"...and I've reached mine."