CW: this episode contains mentions of SA, slight self harm, suicidal ideation and mentions of a miscarriage

“Moses.”

He opened his eyes groggily, surprised to see how dark it had gotten outside. He hadn’t even realized he’d nodded off. He felt a little mortified that he had fallen asleep so soundly in Mal’s bed.

“Oh, god, how long was I out?”

He was a wreck, wearing the same pajamas from the night before, his long bangs sticking to his face, his mouth dry, a sharp contrast to Mal, who was fully put together now and had donned what Moses assumed was a work uniform.

“It’s about 8 now. I would have woken you sooner, but you were fast asleep. I told Dean ya weren’t feelin’ well. Dinner’s in the fridge. I was just comin’ in to say goodbye.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Should I leave?”

Mal shook his head, a comforting smile forming on his face.

“You can sleep in here tonight if you want. I’m goin’ to work, so I won’t be back until early morning.”

“Are you sure it’s ok?”

“Hey,” Mal brushed his hair out of his face, “I’m not gonna kick you out. It’s fine, I promise.”

Mal got up, grabbing a leather satchel by his closet.

“I’m gonna head out. See ya tomorrow.”

Moses didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye as the boy coldly walked out, briskly shutting his door behind him. Moses was a bit surprised that Mal trusted him enough to leave him in his room, but he tried to shrug it off. He was more surprised at how strangely at ease he’d felt being in that room, no, more specifically, being around Mal. He found himself being very curious about where he came from, and how he’d come to live with Dean. As far as Moses knew, Dean wasn’t a particularly charitable person. He’d never taken any interest in helping those around him, not even his own son. This person Moses had come to live with was someone Moses didn’t know, and it was strange. Mal was stranger. How could one person be so kind and understanding when just meeting someone, but at the same time, come off as such an ass at times. He didn’t understand it. He shook his head, as if to shake his thoughts away, scrunching his face as he saw his now drool-stained sleep shirt. God, I’m fuckin’ gross! I need a shower, stat. He sprung up from the bed, briskly making his way to the bathroom. As he passed the kitchen, he jumped as he heard Teeran’s voice.

“Hey, hon. You feeling ok?”

Keeran was cleaning some dirty dishes, presumably from dinner. His hair was tied back into an intricate french braid, little strands falling around his face. The sleeves of his green sweater were rolled up, and Moses was surprised to see full sleeves of tattoos on both arms. Moses awkwardly fumbled at his clothes, feeling frumpy in front of such a well put together man.

“I’m fine. Just kinda tired.”

“Are you sick at all? Mal told me you passed out. Does that happen a lot?”

“Sometimes, I guess. I’m really ok.”

Teeran put down the pan he was scrubbing, walked up to Moses and put the back of his hand on his forehead. He frowned, his thin eyebrows scrunched with concern.

“You don’t have a fever, but you’re awfully warm.”

Moses pulled back from him quickly.

“I’m fine. I’m gonna take a shower.”

Teeran nodded, looking slightly hurt.

“Oh, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

Moses abruptly turned his head and headed into the bathroom with that nauseating wall color. Who on earth would paint their walls this awful color? It’s way too fuckin’ bright, man. Moses peered at the bedraggled looking boy he saw in the mirror. His eyeliner from the day before had mostly melted off, but there were slight smudges from it on his face. He had bags under his eyes, but he always did, nothing especially different there. His hair was normally a bit of a mess, but now it looked like a bird’s nest living on his head. He winced as he saw the kiss marks Mal had left on his neck, now a faint purple and red in places. He tutted to himself, rolling his eyes. He tutted to himself. That’s the last thing I fuckin’ need. He didn’t even try to be gentle with me. Moses smirked to himself. 

“Neither did I.”

He gingerly turned the tap on, slowly undressing with his back turned to the mirror. He did not want to see his body right now. That would only make him feel worse about himself. He got in the shower, standing directly under the showerhead as the hot water slightly scalded his skin and soaked his hair, little droplets kissing his face as he heaved a heavy sigh. Moses hated this. He hated looking down at his body and seeing how hideous it looked to him. He hated looking at the scars that covered him, and remembering the pain that caused them. And what’s more, he hated the fact that he hurt himself. He hated that he starved himself, but he couldn’t stop. It was his only control, his only way of being in charge of his own body and personhood. And today, someone else marked his body. He let someone else touch him. Why, why did it hurt so much to know that someone else had given his skin these colors. He enjoyed it, and Mal was sweet to him the whole time, so why did it feel so terrible? It wasn’t like that time. It’s not the same. It’s not him. It wasn’t him. Please, please stop. It wasn’t that time, it’s just your head, it’s just your head, it’s just your head. Moses scratched his arm, the sharp sensation piercing through his thoughts. The water ran red as it fell down the drain. Moses quickly and thoroughly cleaned himself and got out, wrapping a towel around his body. He smacked his forehead several times in an attempt to bring himself back to reality, whining in frustration. The sobs racked through him, but he pushed them down. Yes, if he swallowed all the pain inside, he wouldn’t have to feel it. He wouldn’t have to be reminded of that time that made him this way. He wouldn’t have to recall how conditioned his body had become to this pain. He jolted at the knocking on the door.

“Moses?”

He stood in silence, his body perfectly still as Teeran’s voice rang out.

“Moses, are you ok?”

Before he could answer, Teeran opened it ajar. Seeing the condition the boy was in, he rushed into the room, but tried to keep a calm composure.Moses recoiled, hiding his arm.

“Don’t touch me!”

He looked for an escape, but Teeran was standing in the way of the door, seemingly unyielding. Moses bit the inside of his mouth, feeling the warm salty taste of blood coat it. His arm stung, and the panic he felt didn’t subside. He was caught up in his mess, and a person he hardly knew had seen one of the uglier parts of him. He was beyond scared. He was bewildered as to what to do.

“Please,” Moses whispered, “please, I didn’t mean to!”

“You’re not in trouble, little one. It’s ok. I’m not angry.”

Teeran put his hands up, standing a safe distance from Moses.

“Now, there are two choices, ok? And you can pick whichever one you want. Either you let me help you and we talk about this on your own terms, of course, or I tell your father about the situation and we start giving you help outside of both of us. No punishments. No tricks. I promise.”

“I-I don’t know, ok?! Just-just stand back!”

Teeran obeyed, stepping back.

“You can think about this and tell me when you’re ready. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you either way.”

Moses lowered his head, too ashamed to meet Teeran’s eyes. He felt so guilty for shouting at this gentle man.

“I’m so sorry. I’m-I ruin everything. This is why…this is why…I shouldn’t be here.”

“This is your home,” Teeran murmured, “you’ve every right to be here, and there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Teeran started stepping closer, cautiously waiting for the green light from Moses. Moses disarmed his stance, letting both arms fall at his side and facing Teeran head on. Teeran pulled Moses into a hug, not caring about blood or water getting on his clothes. He was warm, and his embrace was comforting. It was safe to Moses. He realized then that no one had ever hugged him like this. No one until this point at this chapter in his life had given any sort of concern about how he was, if he was safe, if he felt cared for. Here he was, in front of this man he hardly knew, and somehow he felt safer and more cared for than he had been in the entirety of being in his mother’s care. God, if she saw me right now, she’d go mad. I’m pathetic.

“Please,” Moses sobbed, “I need help.” 

Teeran pulled away, his thin brows scrunched with sincerity.

“Can I see your arm, please,” he whispered.

Moses nodded, gingerly holding up his arm, and Teeran grabbed it, seeing the cut was not too deep but still drew a fair amount of blood.

“Right, I need to patch you up. The first aid kit’s under the sink, conveniently enough,” Teeran gestured to the stool by the bathtub, “please sit.”

Moses felt tiny as he sat on that stool and looked at the intense demeanor of that man, whose visage had shifted from one of brightness and serenity to seriousness. Teeran, in this moment, had a firm authority that was in no way aggressive or harsh but remained to demand respect. He got out disinfectant spray, bandages, cotton swabs and some gauze.

“I want you to know,” he wet a cotton swab with disinfectant, “that I don’t think any less of you when you’re like this. You don’t have to tell me everything. Hell, you don’t even have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I understand.”

Teeran rubbed the cotton against his wound, and Moses felt a slight stinging from the spray.

“I used to do that too.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I was…12 or 13 when it started. My dad was hardly around, when he was, he was violent. Mom wasn’t there at all. Was gettin’ bullied a lot for dressing like a boy. Then I went to law school, still cutting. Got married, too.”

“You were married before?”

“Yup. Big mistake on my part, but I was 20 and had just gotten knocked up.”

Moses scrunched his face in confusion, and Teeran chuckled.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before mentioning all of that! My journey has been so long even I forget at times. I used to be a woman. Obviously, I’m not one anymore.”

“That’s amazing. I mean, that you’re able to be who you are. You look great.”

Teeran smiled softly, wrapping the bandages around Moses’ arm.

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I’m serious. That takes balls. So, you have a kid?”

“No. I lost it in my 4th month. I was devastated. My ex had a big hissy fit and demanded a divorce. Said he didn’t want a ‘barren woman’. I couldn’t cope, so I didn’t. Took a bunch of pills one night, but my friend found me before that could happen. Got rushed to the hospital, got my stomach pumped, started seeing a therapist.”

“Fuck.”

Teeran finished patching up Moses’ arm, his green eyes fixated on the tiles of the bathroom floor.

“I won’t claim to know what you’re going through, or why you feel like you need to do this. I can’t begin to know the pain you have to experience, and I wish I could take it all away so there was nothing but happiness for you.”

“Is it scary? Getting better, I mean.”

“It’s one of the hardest things you’ll ever do, because it’s something you work on your whole life, but you don’t do it by yourself. You have me, and your dad, and everyone who will ever touch your life. It’s about what you do with these things. What you want to do. I can tell you that people love you, and they want to help in whatever way they can.”

“Do you think…do you think I can ever be happy?”

Teeran nodded, wrapping Moses in his arms again, the same warm feeling from before flooded his chest.

“We’re gonna get you help for this, no matter what form that takes. We’re not living in the dark anymore.”

Moses cried softly, feeling a relief wash over him. He wouldn’t be by himself anymore, for the first time ever.