Bleed Me An Ocean

WARNING: This chapter has graphic content which some may consider gruesome or off-putting. Read it or don't, but know you have been warned. Thank you.

Harry was jolted awake sometime before dawn by muttered curses and muffled sobs from across the room. What in hell?, he thought as he rolled off the pallet in a rush, calling Draco's name as he fumbled for his wand. Grasping it he was already halfway across the room and he still had received no answer, the sobs had only grown louder in response. Muttering lumos he froze at the sight before him. Draco sat with his back against the wall and his pants leg pulled up, revealing the blood that slithered down his right calf. The tiny dagger lay forgotten beside him as his whole body shook with sobs.

"Merlin, Draco! What have you done?" Harry asked, his face ashen as he stepped closer to the despondent boy, trembling at what he saw. He thought Draco had stopped. He promised he wouldn't do this anymore, Harry railed in his head before rethinking, No he said he'd TRY not to. But what the fuck happened?? He seemed so happy when we went to bed!

Draco didn't answer, only looked at him; eyes flat and empty, as though he didn't know him at all. "Please answer me. Damnit all! Why did you do this to yourself?" The cuts looked bad, like some sort of morbid ladder that went from just above his ankle all the way to his knee and the bleeding looked like it had no intention of stopping soon.

Grabbing a shirt from the pile of laundry, Harry stooped and began to try and clean the blood away. All the while Draco wept, but didn't try to stop him. Applying pressure to the wounds after he wrapped the shirt around Draco's calf, he said, "These are deep, we need to see Madam Pomfrey."

That had an effect on Draco. His eyes flew open, glittering wildly, sparking with a mad desperation that Harry couldn't define, although he tried. "You will not take me anywhere. She won't touch me, I can't let her take them away. No. No. NO!," he yelled the last word, as he clenched his hands into tight fists.

"Draco!" Harry yelled back in shock.

"I need these, Harry," he nodded his head viciously, "I need proof."

"Proof? Proof of what?" Harry asked, growing more concerned and shocked by the second, "You told me you didn't want this anymore, that you had already made a mess of yourself and that it was enough."

"I meant it, too," Draco answered, his voice softening and becoming edged with sorrow again.

He's not making any sense, Harry thought, puzzled and truly worried by his boyfriend's strange statements. He tried to ignore the wetness on his hand that held the shirt as the blood soaked through the cloth. He could smell the warm, slightly metallic scent and that told him even further that Draco had cut very deep. Harry decided to try once more to get Draco to talk to him. He wanted to know why and he wanted to know right that instant.

"Tell me. Tell me why you hurt yourself again," he implored.

"Nightmare. Fucking nightmare," Draco answered, shaking his head in shame and disgust. He seemed to be coming back to himself a bit,"He eats me in my dreams. Opens his mouth and EATS me. Oh gods and he laughs, a shrill sound that says 'I won.You worthless little boy, you're no more.' It woke me up tonight, the first time I have had it in Merlin knows how long, but it was so real. I tried to go back to sleep, but it was too late. The noise in my head wouldn't let me, Harry. I had to make it be quiet. Don't you see?"

Harry didn't have to ask who 'he' was . . . he knew Draco was talking about his father. Rage began to boil in his veins. He wondered if Lucius knew what he'd done to his son, then he wondered even if he did know - or ever found out - if he would even care. Somehow he knew the answer would likely be no and it tore him apart. "Why didn't you wake me up? You could've come to me about this."

"I felt bad. I don't want to saddle you with all of my little headtrips, Harry," Draco said, looking now at where Harry's hand pressed the shirt to his leg, "I wasn't going to tell you, but then I realized what I did and started crying. I thought I was being quiet though . . . guess not. I get so mad at myself for this . . . this . . . SHIT. But it's better than screaming. Sometimes I want to just sit down and scream until my throat ruptures, yet," he began, his voice trailing off to a whisper as he finished,"I think if I ever started, I wouldn't be able to stop."

Harry was at a loss for words, all he could do was swallow the tears that threatened to fall. The last thing Draco needed was to think he'd made him cry. It was an awful way for the blonde to have to live, he had become so warped mentally that the only thing that comforted him was to shred his own flesh. Harry couldn't fathom it. Not at all. But he wasn't disgusted, he wanted Draco to get help though and told him so. His statement was met with a bitter scoff, "Just because I had one setback doesn't mean the world is coming to an end. Deal with it," he said dismissively, anger starting to creep back into his voice.

"What are you so scared of Draco?" Harry asked.

"I'm not scared. I just know that this is no big deal, not to me and you're blowing it out of proportion," he said defensively, "You will not take me to see some head shrinking wizard, nor will I go expose my mistake to Pomfrey so she can take my scars away. I need them."

"You already said that. But why do you need them?" Harry asked, trying desperately to understand.

"They are my permanent reminders. Reminders of what it's like to be almost dead; reminders of what it's like to be mostly alive. It's amazing how quickly your own blood can become an opiate," he said softly, the sadness in his eyes offset even more by his emotionless face and matter-of-fact tone of voice.

Harry could only stare at his lover. He wanted nothing more than to run away with him, hide him away from the world that had hurt him so. Letting go of the shirt that, much to his dismay, stuck to the finally drying blood on Draco's calf and wrapped his arms around Draco. Pulling Draco to him, he cooed softly, telling him that everything would be ok, they'd get through this. He promised not to make him go see anyone, even though it went against his better judgment, he just couldn't bear the thought of having Draco hate him. The Slytherin would take it as an utter and complete betrayal of his trust and Harry knew that. Draco eventually dozed off in the protective circle of Harry's arms, Harry followed suit just as the sun was coming up. He bent his head against Draco's and tried to ignore the dampness of the tears he'd wept that soaked into the silken blonde strands.

His sleep was fitful, full of dreams of Draco screaming and not being able to stop. Harry saw him standing on a beach made of bones and taking that goddamned dagger and cutting his arms from his elbows to his wrists while he looked at Harry, saying, "Bleed me an ocean," before he was washed away on a wave of garnet red blood. In the dream Harry could only frantically chase the receding wave, yelling for Draco over and over again, but only hearing those four eerie words repeated from all around him. Then he was running after Draco through the cobbled streets of some strange city, following a slick, wet trail of more blood until he found himself standing in some town square, calling for him. He turned in the dream to find Draco standing behind him, holding his arms out to be held and Harry reached for him, glad to have found him again. Pulling him close, he choked back a scream as he felt the wetness on Draco's clothes and his hands as they clenched his back and he whispered those same words again. He found himself falling, thinking of some line he'd read or seen somewhere before that had always left him feeling haunted: All that you love shall be carried away.

Draco's voice pulled him from his nightmare, "Harry! Wake UP!"

"What?" Harry yelped, startled to see himself in the room he shared with the blonde. Draco was kneeling in front of him now, shaking him hard.

"You were dreaming, Harry," Draco said.

Harry noted that Draco seemed like himself again and allowed the hope to flicker that perhaps it had just been a setback last night. Then the dream rushed back to him and he grabbed Draco by the wrists and said, "Don't you EVER leave me."

Looking at Harry's wide, scared eyes and sweat-soaked hair, Draco could only nod and say,"Never, ever. No."

They went back to the pallet and settled in, Harry noticing Draco's wince when he bumped his leg into the wall. Giving him a look that said he wouldn't take no for an answer, Harry said, "Since you don't want to see anyone about the cuts, then I'm going to bandage them. You may want the scars, but having your leg rot off from infection won't do any good."

Draco shuddered at what Harry had said. Never, in all the time he'd been cutting himself had the thought of infection once crossed his mind. Now that it had, he found it to be quite a scary thought. He didn't want any of his parts to rot off. That was a disgusting; horrific. "Ok," he said weakly.

"Good. Now let me find something to use as bandages," Harry said, rising from the pallet once more.

He heard Draco muttering behind him, then he spoke, "There. Honestly, Harry, one would think you didn't own a wand."

"Huh?" Harry asked before he turned around to find a pile of fresh bandages on their night table next to the whiskey where it sat in its usual place of 'honor'. Then he laughed, Draco had sounded so much like Hermione right then if he hadn't known better he'd think it was her. It felt good to laugh after last night's upset and the unsettling dreams he'd had. He couldn't seem to stop and Draco looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.

Gathering the bandages, still giggling, he told Draco what was so funny. "Well there are worse things I suppose. I could've sounded like Weasley."

"This is true. Your Hermione is spot on though, maybe you should take up impersonations as a hobby," Harry laughed as he wiped the tears from his face.

"Do shut up, Potter," Draco sniffed, conjuring his old, haughty tone for a moment and trying to suppress a grin of his own.

"You also do a damn good Draco Malfoy," Harry spluttered, starting to laugh again, he was enjoying the ribbing he was giving the blonde. The tension he had felt earlier seemed to melt away, making him forget all the drama of the night before.

Unable to help himself, Draco chuckled a bit as well. Harry's laughter was contagious and he loved to hear it. He hated having upset the Gryffindor with his actions. He had come to realize just how much Harry cared for him, how much he wanted to take care of him and protect him. It made him feel safe in a way that he never had before. He was a truly wonderful man. Draco was the fuck up in the relationship and he was terrified that he was dragging Harry down with him. In fact, he knew he was when it came to drinking and he hated that, too. He hated it even more that he liked that Harry drank with him. He didn't know what to do, so he did the only thing he could - he loved Harry with all his heart and made a point to be there for him just like Harry was for him. It was all he felt he could do. Draco knew he drank too much and that Harry was following suit, but whenever he thought of stopping drinking he nearly panicked. He couldn't imagine not having liquor, just like he couldn't imagine not having Harry in his life. Just shut up you ninny. Harry's a big boy now and if he wants to drink, then he can, Draco told himself, effectively shutting his thoughts down for the time being. Speaking of . . . he thought once more and grabbed the bottle.

His hands were shaking, one side effect of the alcohol that he despised and he looked at Harry who still stood by the pallet and asked, "Are you going to bandage me or not, Dr. Potter?"

"Oh! Right!" Harry said, shaking himself a bit. He'd been more interested in watching Draco than doing what he'd set out to do. The blonde was distracting and so complex that even after spending so much time with him, he knew he'd barely scratched the surface. It was at once a fascinating and heartbreaking adventure, but he swore to himself that one day he would know all there was to know about Draco Malfoy and that he would do everything in his power to make Draco ok. He was no miracle worker, but he was a hopeless romantic, a secret he guarded closely, but he believed the old saying that love could conquer all.

He sat at Draco's side and pulled his pants leg up, taking in the dried blood around the cuts and the insides of them that still glistened slickly with lingering moisture. Grabbing his wand and muttering a cleansing charm, he looked at Draco and smirked, "See, I remembered it."

Clapping, Draco smirked back and took another slug of whiskey. Harry wanted a drink as well, but he made a vow to himself that he would bandage Draco first, then he'd drink. It was good to have goals. Having finished his work, he eyed it critically then noted that he had done a rather good job. Maybe he should become a mediwizard, seemed he had a knack for it. Then he laughed at his own flight of fancy before sliding back to sit shoulder to shoulder with Draco. Taking the bottle from him, he noted that his hands were shaking, that in fact, now that he thought about, he felt like he was shaking all over, from the inside out. That can't be good, he thought. He pulled from the bottle, taking four sips in a row before he handed the bottle back to Draco. He could feel the shakes subsiding and he wondered what was going on.

Seeing how Harry was looking at his hands, Draco knew what he was thinking and said,"It's called alcohol withdrawal. I wondered what it was the first time it happened to me as well. I figured it out though."

"So drinking more makes it go away? Just like drinking more makes a hangover go away?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Draco answered, then took another healthy swallow of whiskey.

"Interesting," Harry mused, wondering if alcohol was a cure or a curse and not minding either way. It made him feel better and that's what was important at the moment. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he had the suspicion that it was a double edged sword of sorts - curse and cure all in one.

He voiced his thoughts to Draco who pondered for a moment before responding with, "Maybe the curse is the cure."

Harry watched his lover quietly, trying to absorb what he'd just said. Silvery eyes stared down the neck of the bottle, into the dark liquid that sloshed gently, then he began to speak. He never once looked up at Harry as he told him how he'd started drinking. He'd been rather young at the time, thirteen in fact, "The booze came before the dagger," he said, "My father had been screaming at me all holiday for one thing or another. I couldn't seem to please him, no matter how rigid or cold I was, it simply wasn't enough. I think he knew I was faking it to please him and that just seemed to make him angrier for some reason. I guess because it wasn't genuine Malfoyness that pissed him off. He thought - and still thinks - I am weak."

He cleared his throat before continuing, "Anyway, one night he was in a vile mood, period. He'd skulked around the manor all day, snapping at house elves, kicking things when he thought no one was looking. Well, I had went for a walk to get away from him, I figured I knew him well enough by then that if he found me, I'd be the one he took his anger out on. I came home after I thought enough time had passed, hoping he'd calmed down by then and thinking that he likely had. Father gets mad, will stay mad for days, but . . . I don't know why I thought what I did that day. Wishfulness probably. I was making my way to the stairs, hoping for a quick escape to my room. That didn't happen. I knew he was behind me, I could feel his presence. Then I heard, 'You just tracked mud all over the house, Draco.' His voice was so cold and eerily calm, I knew I was done for. 'Come here, boy' he said and how could I refuse?"

"Draco, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," Harry said, not liking where the story was going one bit.

"You wanted to know how long I have been doing this," Draco said, nodding at the bottle clenched tightly in his fingers, "You asked me that morning in The Room and I didn't answer you. I want to tell you now. If you'll hear it, that is."

"Of course I'll listen to you. I want to know," he said, and he did want to know. He just didn't want Draco to get upset, but on the other hand, he thought, perhaps it would be cathartic for him.

"Then shall I continue?" Draco asked.

"Yes. Tell me," Harry encouraged.

Pausing for a moment to recall where he was at, he continued,"I went to where he stood and waited. I didn't have to wait for long before he slapped me. I thought he'd killed me right then and there. I saw stars and my ears were ringing. But he wasn't done, oh no, Lucius is never done," he spat, a bitter smile pulling at his lips, "I fell to my knees and he just grabbed me by my hair and started dragging me to his study. I fucking hate that room. He yanked me into the room and closed the door. I looked at him to see him taking his belt off and I was sure he was going to rape me, certain that my own father was fixing to fuck me. I almost wish he had. With a wave of his wand, my shirt disappeared and he jerked me to my feet. He made me bend over his desk and he told me to count. I didn't know what else to do, I was so scared and confused . . . so I did as he ordered. And then he started to beat me. I remember the sound of the belt whistling through the air and the crack of the leather across my back. It hurt so much, I thought he was going to kill me then, that he was going to beat me to death. I lost count of how many times he hit me after forty five. It seemed to go on forever though. And then . . . it just stopped, the silence was deafening until he spoke, calmly, almost lovingly to me and said 'We all have to learn from our mistakes Draco'. Then he left. Just left me there."

"Gods that bastard!" Harry yelled, he was ready to kill Lucius Malfoy. He wanted the sonofabitch DEAD and now, "How could he have done all that to you, Draco? I just . . .," he was choked with rage.

Draco only snorted inelegantly and said,"Because he's Lucius Malfoy," like that was supposed to make all the sense in the world, and to him it did. Motioning for Harry to be quiet and let him finish, Draco carried on,"After he left, I just stood there, my mind was a blank. Then I heard the front door open and close and I knew he was gone, that I was safe for the time being. But I still couldn't move. My back felt like it was on fire and then . . . then . . . my eyes settled on the small collection of alcohol that sat on a table near his desk. I don't know what I was thinking, I really wasn't thinking I suppose. Yet, I remembered hearing somewhere that alcohol was a good anesthetic and I wanted the pain in my back and shoulders to go away desperately. So . . . I went to the table and grabbed the first bottle I saw - whiskey. I drank, small sips then and wonder of wonders - it did work. The ache eased and my head got all fuzzy and I just didn't give a fuck about what had happened to me that evening. It didn't take long for me to get drunk that first time. Not even thirty minutes. But, yeah, that's how it started. And I drank everyday after that. At first, it was no big deal, I drank it because I wanted it . . . then the day came that even though I was drinking because I still wanted it, I was also doing it because I felt like I needed it. It was hell being at school and not being able to have it, then this year I decided I wouldn't do without it and brought it with me. So there you have it, the sordid little tale of my boozing."

"Little?" Harry asked incredulously, "That's far from little, Draco. It's terrible the way you had to live. I can't say that I blame you. It must have been awful for you. Where was your mother?"

"Hiding, just like always. She knows, she just doesn't care. End of story," Draco said, shrugging, but hurting all the same, "Care to join me?" he asked, noticing how Harry's eyes had drifted to the bottle as he spoke. He had hoped that Harry would realize what was happening to him by listening to his story. Much to his disappointment all it had seemed to do was make Harry angry about how he was treated. It did nothing to dampen his own growing desire to drink. This has to stop, Draco thought sadly as Harry took the bottle.

Putting the bottle down, Harry looked at him, his eyes the color of polished gemstones and kissed him. "I'm sorry, Draco. They deserve to be burned alive for what they put you through. Your mother's ambivalence is no worse than your father's abuse. When they die, I hope it fucking hurts," he said through clenched teeth.

"Harry, calm down. What's done is done," Draco said, alarmed by the look on Harry's face.

"And what's going to happen when you go home for the summer?" Harry asked, his body growing rigid with fury.

"I don't know," was all Draco could say. He shuddered at the thought though.

"We'll work something out. I don't want you going back there," Harry said, the same determination on his face as had been there the day they announced they were a couple coming back,"I won't let that man hurt you anymore."

Draco's silvery eyes widened in silent appreciation for all that Harry had already done and was willing to keep doing for him. He was at a loss on what to say. He'd never known such loyalty in his life and he wasn't about to let it go if he could help it.

"We need to get out here," he suggested,"Why don't we go for a walk down by the lake?"

"It's freezing out!" Harry said, shivering at the mere thought.

"Yeah, but maybe we can think of something to keep us warm," Draco said suggestively.

"Well, in that case . . .," Harry rose and gathered his heavy cloak and held his hand out to Draco,"Maybe I am up for a walk after all."

They walked out of their room and into the corridor, content for the time being. Harry's thinking had been right, Draco felt like a weight had been lifted off of his chest by telling Harry his story. Keeping secrets gnawed at him, he'd always wanted to be able to trust someone with his life. Now he could and it felt wonderful.

A/N: There, updateness. Still tinkering with this one, so it'll likely be shoved to the top a bit, but don't despair, a new chapter will be along shortly.

I know it's really angsty, but I wanted to give some back story and indulge that ugly little realist inside once more. I will be jumping ahead again with my next chapter and I promise, it'll be happier than this one. It will be xmas after all. Mmmpresents.

A big, fat THANK YOU to all of the awesome reviews I got on my last chapter. You people rock my sparkly socks, just so you know. Your support and understanding of why I am writing this the way I am makes all the bullshit from other people worthwhile. You have NO idea how much I appreciate your kindness and encouragement and how everytime one of you tells me that you like this - angst and all - it makes me feel kinda warm and fuzzy. :D

PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING!! *hands out candy*