[ wp ] Your former high school bully that drove you to attempted suicide years ago turns out to be your soulmate later in life .

`` So... remind me one more time. Remind me, after *everything* you did to me, what makes you think you have the right, or the nerve, or the... *anything* to be sitting in front of me and asking for help.'' 
 
 He looked over the table, sheepishly, like a child in a Year 7 class being called to the principle after setting a table on fire or something. 
 
 Sort of reminded me of myself, way back when. Only difference was, I felt guilty for things that *weren't* my fault. 
 
 `` Look'', he said, looking away to avoid the daggers - well, maybe closer to claymores - I was staring at him. `` I know... I know I fucked up back then, and-'' 
 
 `` Well that's one fucking way to put it!'' I interupted. `` Considering all the scars I've still got on my arm, and let's not mention the time I put a gun to my mouth and very nearly-'' 
 
 `` COULD YOU - Could... Could you stop mentioning that?... Please.'' 
 
 I decided to relent. Not for his sake, you realise. It was more that the memory bothered me about as much as it seemed to bother him. I was n't done twisting the knife, but it was n't worth hitting the same part twice. 
 
 `` So what brought the sudden change on, huh? What, ran out of friends?'' 
 
 `` No, I just...'' He paused, as if attempting to come up with a single better way to put his net thought, before seeming to surrender to his original idea. `` I realised I was acting like a dick back then.'' 
 
 `` Fuck, you've become the king of fucking underexaduration while we were apart, did n't you? What did you think was your nadir? The fat comments, the nerd comments, do nothing, oh, no, maybe the gay comments, you'd think of-'' 
 
 He tensed up, just enough for me to notice. Just enough to make me pause. 
 
 `` Oh, getting a response, huh? What, did you hate yourself for those gay comments?'' 
 
 ``... Yes.'' 
 
 `` Well hey, it was just calling someone a faggot, it's totally cool! Look, I can do it too, faggot! See, simple! Queer! Faggot! Fucking stupid, discusting, abolition-before-God fucking homos-'' 
 
 **CRASH. ** 
 
 He slammed his fist down in the table, loud enough for the entire resturant to hear - especially since he missaimed, managed to hit the salt shaker, and smash it to pieces, quite a few of which found themselves embedded into the base of his hand. All of that, combined with a single yell, louder then any of the yells he gave back on the playground. 
 
 `` I KNOW!... I know. Just... D-Do n't... ow... I just...'' 
 
 I was n't going to take pity on him. I really was n't planning to. But a lot ended up happening at once at that point - for one, everyone, 20 plus people, were looking over, and the situation needed to be defused. Second, he was bleading over the table, and his face was constricted in pain, both from the glass, and from the litteral salt in the wound. 
 
 Thirdly, he was crying. Not blubbering, mind - that would imply some sort of lack of dignity to it. Somehow, even through all my hatred for him, I could n't help but notice how... nobel he looked. 
 
 `` *Christ, get a grip. You'll want to marry him tomorow at this rate of change. *'' 
 
 He managed to compose himself, after a few seconds, and spoke, as low as he could manage. `` That... I... It's complicated. It's... My father, he... I just...'' 
 
 ``... Your father was... homophobic?'' 
 
 He gave a snort, shaking his head a little. `` He did n't fear them. Fucking hated them. Would have shot me if he found out I-'' 
 
 He seemed to suddenly realise what he was saying, because he suddenly shut his mouth at the speed of a crocodile, and seemed to focus on his hand instead. 
 
 `` *Well, at least that explains why he punched one of his own guys the once. Might explain why he was angry in general, honestly. *'' 
 
 Against every effort in my mind to keep seeing him as a monster, I started to see what he really was - still as much as a scared, angry kid as he was at least ten years ago. 
 
 ``... Fuckin'- hold out your hand. C'mon.'' 
 
 He did. It shook a little, almost as if he expected me to dig the glass in a little deeper - hell, almost as if he *wanted* me to dig it a little deeper, as repentence or something. The look of surprise on his face when I simply tugged the glass out was worth the small ammount of eff- 
 
 `` *There you go again. Why not just suck him off at this rate? Under the table, why not, it-*'' 
 
 Great. Now my own brain was bullying me more then he was. 
 
 `` There we go... One last shard, and... Ok, we're good...... Shit, I'm startin' to think I should have left those in, I ca n't remember how you're supposed to work smaller glass shards like this...'' 
 
 `` Y-Yeah, you... fucked up a bit there.'' he chuckled, softly, as if his hand was n't almost spurting blood over the table. 
 
 `` You're not helping your case, wiseguy.'' 
 
 `` H-Heh, elevated to wiseguy, OK, I'll take that as a good sign.'' 
 
 `` *Mother fucker. Wrong words. *'' 
 
 `` B-But no, it's...'' He continued, wincing a little as he flexed his hand slightly. `` My fault too, should have... I kinda forgot, no, erm... shrapnel wounds, that's just... loose dressing around the wound, get to a hospital...'' 
 
 `` Well this is n't a shrapnel wound, is it? It's a salt shaker, not a hand grenade.'' 
 
 Another laugh from him. 
 
 `` *kind of a cute laugh. *'' 
 
 Great. Now my brain was working *with* me. 
 
 `` W-Well, anyway... Hey! Erm, owner? Could we get a dressing here? And some water. For my, er... my...... Friend's hand.'' 
 
 `` Oh, I'm a friend now?'' 
 
 `` Shut up.'' 
 
 I washed out his wound as soon as I was able, and he wrapped the dressing around himself. 
 
 ``... You do that pretty well.'' 
 
 `` Heh, thanks.'' He responded. `` Ever since I kinda realised how much of a... well, ya know...'' 
 
 `` Dickhead you were being?'' 
 
 `` You gon na keep calling me that?... Anyway, I... decided to go into medical work. On the field, you know? First aid and stuff like that. Please, do n't ask how many people I've seen die, it-'' 
 
 `` I was n't *going* to ask that. Why do you think I would?'' 
 
 `` Well, you know... cause me more painful memories? As revenge?'' 
 
 ``... Well, you know... even for a dickhead, you've... gone through enough today, I think.'' 
 
 ``... Thanks.... Must be hard to admit, huh? I can tell, you've got a face like you just swallowed a lemon.'' 
 
 *'' Fuck. He has you pegged. `` * 
 
 ``... You nearly made me kill myself. You know how hard it is to see you as-'' 
 
 `` Anything other then a monster?... Yeah, I do. I had the same trouble.'' 
 
 There was a pause, as he rubbed his dressing a little, and I started to clean up the remaining glass and spilt salt. 
 
 ``... So, erm... You're...?'' 
 
 He clenched his fist, and I leaned back a little - an instinct honed for at least 10 years, now. He must have noticed, because after a brief pause for breath, he unclenched it again. 
 
 ``... Maybe a little.'' 
 
 `` Kind of hard to be a *little* gay. Trust me, I tried.'' 
 
 `` *FUCK. YOU JUST GAVE YOUR OWN FUCKING SEXUALITY AWAY, YOU DENSE FUCK. *'' 
 
 He gave a long laugh, mixed with one last tear. `` Heh, if you did, you never tried when I was looking! All that joking around about wanting to suck on a massive-'' 
 
 `` Say it louder, let the whole damn resturant here, why dontcha?'' 
 
 `` Sorry man. Just...... Fuck. I got jealous about how... open you could be about it. Still... You were n't joking? Everyone else seemed to just assume you were joking...'' 
 
 `` Well. When I was talking to you, I was mostly joking, yeah. Just trying to get under your skin so you and your crew might leave me alone. Thought it made you feel uncomfortable.'' 
 
 `` It did.... Might have said yes to it, if I was n't around them, but... ya know. They liked gays about as much as my dad.'' 
 
 `` Eh. They were kids.'' 
 
 `` So were we.'' 
 
 `` And we hated each other. Your point?'' 
 
 Another long pause. He seemed to have gone into deep thought, so it was up to me to restart the conversation. 
 
 ``......... So you want me to help with... What? Just... How to be friendly?'Cause you have the remorse act down, at least.'' 
 
 `` No, erm, it's... more...'' 
 
 `` More the part where you cope with being not straight?'' 
 
 `` Yeah.... You think you could?'' 
 
 I thought about it for a while - felt like a century of thought, culminating in a single moment. Then, I gave him the warmest smile I could manage. 
 
 `` Sure. Just for a little while.'' 
 
 `` Hopefully'', he responded, `` A little while's all I need.''
