"Just Hold My Hand."
Just a short little one-shot I felt like writing. Because I love the shipping of Tobey and Becky (WordGirl). Hope you all like it.
"Tobey," Becky exclaimed, feeling slightly faint. She got a feeling of impending doom. "What have you done to yourself?! Ms. Dewey! Ms. Dewey!"
"Becky, what on Earth are you screaming about. You know not to shout, what's gotten into-" Ms. Dewey, the town's librarian stopped mid-sentence, her face going flush. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. "Oh, my word! I'm going to go call his mother, Becky you stay here a keep him awake." Ms. Dewey rushed quickly to the telephone on the entrance desk. She held the phone up to her ear, the dial tone buzzing, waiting on someone to dial a number. She quickly scanned in Tobey's library card, which she picked up off the floor next to Tobey, and rapidly found his phone number on register.
Becky didn't even like Tobey, at first. Seeing him in this state, gave her a strange feeling. A feeling that she was losing her best friend. She sat down next to Tobey, who was bearly consious.
"What did you do?" Becky cried softly, looking at blood on both of Tobey's forearms (not to mention on the library's new carpet and his clothing). Three cuts on each arm bled profusely, stretching from the insides of his elbows to his wrists. There was a shiny object gleaming next to him. Becky wouldn't have noticed it had Tobey not weakly reached for it to try to hide it. Tobey noticed Becky's eyes glancing over at the small bit of razor-sharp metal, he quickly mustard the power to cover it with his hand, which sliced his hand on contact.
"It's nothing. Besides, what do you care, Becky Botsford? You don't even like me," Tobey took a small, rapid breath, his dry mouth causing him to sound like he was in pain as he did so. A few salty tears escaped his emerald eyes. His unadjusted glassed began to fog. He was too weak to hide his face, tough crying in front of Becky, his suspected WordGirl, erased all his sense of dignity. "Nobody does, nor will they ever."
"Tobey," Becky gave a faint smile, her bright, hazel eyes staring directly into Tobey's emerald ones. She grabbed his hand with the sharp metal object that he used to do this to himself. "That's not true. Lots of people like you."
"Name one," Tobey demanded in a soft, weak voice. His fifteen-year-old maturity making his voice crackle, which made Becky have an unexplained feeling within her gut, almost like a fluttering.
"Um, well," Becky bit down on her bottom lip, Tobey tipping his head downward more and more with each second Becky took to think. It's not that Becky couldn't think of anyone, it was that she didn't know what she was feeling and was unsure of how to put it into words. "I like you."
"You-you do? Really?" Tobey's voice squeaked. Becky giggled a bit before looking to the sight of Ms. Dewey standing before them.
"Tobey, you're mother's on her way right now. Becky, help me get him to the bathroom to clean him up a little before his mother gets here, no mother should have to see her son like this."
With the combination of Becky grabbing one of his arms and Ms. Dewey gripping the other made Tobey want to squrim with pain. He didn't know if this or the cutting hurt worse. A tear dripped from his eye and into the fresh, bloody wounds. Tobey hissed in pain. When they entered the bathroom, Ms. Dewey place Tobey on the wet counter, his nose turned up with digust as he felt the water seeping through his pants and underwear. He was fifteen for Heaven's sake, not a four-year-old child.
"Are you in any pain, Dear?" Ms. Dewey asked, a sad look on her face. The last thing Tobey wanted was to have pity taken on himself, he rolled his eyes.
"Just a little bit. It mostly stings more than anything now."
"Why'd you do it, Tobey?" Becky asked, feeling like a little kid as she hid behind Ms. Dewey. She felt a bolt of anxiety shoot through her body, not sure if she wanted to know.
"It's-" Tobey glared at the ground, unable to face Becky. He thought about what to say, but the best he could come up with was just that, the best way he could explain it. "It's complicated."
Claire McCallister arrived at the library just as Ms. Dewey was able to clean the last of the cuts up. She barged into the library, panic in her voices.
"What in Heaven's name is going on? Theodore?!" Claire questioned with shock, her son appearing out from the bathroom, his head slumpped over with regret. His arms were still bleeding and he was beginning to feel really weak at this point. Drops of blood had followed, and continued to follow, him around. "Theodore?! What have you done?! Why do you keep doing this to yourself?!"
"It's- whoa," Tobey's hand latched to his now spinning head. He felt faint. "Whoa, I-I don't feel so well." Tobey then fell to the floor, he was just consious enough to hear Becky cry, even though it was pretty difficult to hear her through his mother's own bellows. Becky collasped to her knees next to Tobey's bloody body.
"Tobey! Tobey! Is there anything I can do?!" Tears streamed down Becky's face, Tobey looking her dead in the eyes.
"Just hold my hand," Tobey faintly spoke. He was slipping unconsious quickly, things were starting to go black. "Just hold my hand." He whispered again before everything went dark and he no longer had control over the situation.
Two months later
"I'm so glad you're okay," Becky smiled as Tobey broke from his mother's embrace and hugged Becky tightly. Tobey was glad to be breathing fresh air and feeling the sunshine beat down on his pale face. After two months in a hospital receiving help for his mental issues.
"Yeah. Becky, I owe you an apology for being so rude before. If you hadn't come to the library, I would have probably died that day."
"It's okay, Tobey. There's no need to apologize."
"Crackers and jam," Tobey said as the embrace ended. He snapped his fingers and looked down as he noticed something was missing. "I'll be back in a moment, it seems they've forgotten to give me one of suitcases back. Mother, why don't you and Becky go wait in the car, I'll be right out."
"Okay, Tobey. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Mother. Go on out."
Within five minutes, Tobey had returned from his room with the suitcase he was missing. He saw Becky sitting in a chair.
"Becky, what are you doing in here? I thought you were out waiting with Mother."
"Well, I wanted to stay and make sure you were okay. Besides, I don't think your mother would have liked this in the car."
"Like what?" Tobey asked, looking for something the Becky may have had. He found nothing.
"I don't think she would have liked this," Becky said before pulling Tobey in a close embrace. Her lips locked with his as she deeply kissed him. He's so warm. She couldn't help but think to herself. The kissed ended within seconds, but Tobey was still speechless for a few moments after.
"Wow. Um, is there something you want from me?"
"Okay, then is there anything you want me to do for you?" Tobey asked, still doubting that Becky did that just because she loved.
"Just hold my hand," Becky whispered, interlocking her fingers with Tobey's as they walked towards the exit of the building. "Just hold my hand."