Harry stopped.
One Hundred Days.
He thought.
Once upon a time, pain was his anchor, a way to not get lost in his own head, to drown out his helplessness and fear. Now only the ghosts of that pain remained - visions, obsessions that ate him up from the inside.
He knew he wasn't doing it. It was true. But his mind stubbornly refused to believe it.
"You see it again."
A thin, velvety voice made him shudder.
Harry pulled his hand away. The skin on his wrist was clean, but he had just seen it split under the blade, as blood fell in dark drops onto the mantle. Tom's gaze was heavy, studying.
"It doesn't mean anything." — the voice broke.
Tom was silent. He was never quick to answer, but Harry knew that Tom could see right through him.
"You are not harming yourself." — he finally said. "But your mind wants you to see it."
Harry clenched his fingers into a fist.
"This will pass."
"Maybe." — Tom took a step closer, his fingers sliding over Harry's wrist, exactly where the cut had just been - non-existent, but so real..
Warm. His skin was warm. Harry blinked out of the vision. He couldn't deny it helped..
"You… shouldn’t…"
"No, I should.." — Tom didn't remove his hand. — "I won't let this take you away."
Harry exhaled heavily, allowing himself to lean on the other's warmth for a moment.
But the visions got worse.
They came at night, bright and predatory, like hungry creatures waiting to tear his mind apart. He woke up in a cold sweat, clutching his hand where he had just seen the bloody cut. His heart was pounding..
"Harry."
The voice was quiet but firm..
Harry blinked. The room was dark, but he knew Tom was there. Always there.
"This is not real" — he whispered, not knowing to whom these words were addressed.
"No" — Tom agreed calmly. He slid closer to Harry so that their shoulders touched. — "But that doesn't make you feel any better.."
Harry clenched his fists..
"I'm holding on, Tom. I'm… holding on.."
He nodded slowly, looking intently into his face..
"Then let me help."
Harry flinched as Tom's fingers closed softly around his wrist. Where he had just seen the cut, leaving behind only living warmth.
"It's just a memory," — Tom continued, running his finger over his skin. — "Memories that cling to you. But I'm here. I'm real.."
Harry swallowed, not looking away.
"I… don’t want to see this."
"Then let me be what you see."
Tom didn't give him time to answer - he simply pulled him towards him, leaving a short distance between their faces. And for the first time in a hundred days, Harry didn't feel alone in this struggle..
Harry knew it wasn't true.
Knew his skin wasn't cut. Knew his blood wasn't dripping onto the bed.
But when he looked at his hand, everything repeated itself again: a sharp flash of pain, a scarlet trace, a distorted reflection of reality.
Glitch.
He closed his eyes, trying to push the image away, but the sensation of the cut was so real that he almost threw up. One hundred days. He held on. He didn't do it.
But his mind didn't believe him.
"Harry."
The voice was too close.
Harry's eyes snapped open, his heart beating too fast.
Tom sat next to him, head bowed, studying him with an attention that made him want to shrink.
"You see it again." — it wasn't a question.
"It's just a glitch." — Harry muttered, looking away.
He didn't know when Tom had appeared. His consciousness was increasingly malfunctioning. Sometimes Harry felt his presence, sometimes he didn't.
But in recent weeks Tom always showed up when things got too bad.
"Glitch" — Tom said.. "Funny. Doesn't the mind care whether the pain is real or not?"
Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands.
"Damn, you're not even real.."
Tom chuckled.
"Maybe so. But it's easier for you when I'm here, isn't it?"
Harry didn't answer.
The room was silent. Only his own breathing, only the dull beating of his heart.
If this is a glitch, then he is not talking to Tom.
So he's talking to himself.
Harry gritted his teeth.
"I'm tired." — he muttered.
"Then take a rest." — Tom touched his hand. "I'll stay here."
Harry wanted to say that there was no point. That Tom would disappear as soon as he closed his eyes.
But he was too exhausted to argue.
Harry woke up with his heart twitching, gasping for air as if he had just been pulled out of icy water.
Hand.
The first thought is to check the hand.
He glanced sharply at his wrist. Clean skin. Not a scratch. Not a drop of blood..
But he saw it. He felt it.
My breathing was out of order. My head was buzzing.
"You were hallucinating again."
Harry winced. Tom was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with his usual imperturbability.
Harry clenched his fingers into a fist..
"You're not even real."
Tom bowed his head.
"Are you so sure?"
Harry wanted to say «Yes». He wanted to say that he knew that it was just a hallucination, that his own mind was playing against him.
But when Tom slid his fingers over his wrist, covering the place of the non-existent cut, Harry felt warmth.
Too real.
"It's just a part of you.." — whispered Tom. "The part that wants me to be here."
"Why you?" — Harry's voice trembled.
"Because someone had to stop you."
Harry sighed..
"But I'm not doing that. One hundred days, Tom. One hundred. Bloody. Days."
"I know." — Tom leaned slightly towards him. "But did it change anything?"
Harry didn't answer.
He felt himself being drawn into this conversation. In this moment. In this glitch.
And part of him wanted to stay in it longer..
Harry couldn't take it anymore.
Every morning began with him waking up and checking his skin. Every night he saw again the blood dripping onto his robe, the blade running across his wrists. It wasn't reality, but for him it became reality..
Tom was always there.
"You're seeing it again, Harry. You can't go on like this."
Harry looked at him with eyes full of despair and anger. He wanted to say something, but the words stuck in his throat.
He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He wasn't ready to admit that he had lost control. But at that moment, When he looked in the mirror, his eyes were clouded.
"You shouldn't do this." — Tom said, but his voice sounded distant, as if from another reality.
Harry turned to the shelf, looking for something that could help him feel some kind of reality.
Blade.
He found it, tattered and worn, but still sharp. At that moment he wasn't thinking. He just felt his body moving non-stop, how the hand gives in to its impulse. The blade penetrates the skin. A sudden, painful sensation washes over him, but this moment feels real to him.
He didn't hear Tom come up behind him.
"Harry, don't do this. You're doing it again..." — His voice was quiet but full of power.
Harry couldn't stop. He drew the blade again and again, feeling the blood running down his hand. It didn't hurt. It was real. And that's what he wanted.
But when he felt Tom's hand on his shoulder, something inside him collapsed.
"You don't want this. You don't want to be in this place." — said Tom. His voice was soft but penetrating. "You're looking for a way out, and there's no way out in the pain. You don't have to do this, Harry.."
Harry tried to pull away, but his body wouldn't listen. He kept going. Wanted to make it brighter, more comprehensive.
Tom touched his hand again, this time gently but firmly, pulling the blade out of his hands.
"You can't run away from yourself." — he said. "But you can be strong, Harry. You're not alone."
Harry looked at his wrists again. The blade was in Tom's hands, and the blood slowly stopped its flow.
"You can't beat glitches if you fight them like this." — said Tom, holding his wrist. "But I am with you. Always."
Harry felt the pain recede, but the confusion did not go away. It seemed to him that if he did not feel this pain, he would lose himself completely.
"You are not lost. I promise." — said Tom, as if reading his thoughts. "You're just searching. And I'll find you, even if you're lost in the dark."
Potter didn't know what to answer. There were too many thoughts in his head, too many questions. But at this moment he was just ready to keep quiet and let Tom stay close.
Harry sat leaning against the wall, feeling the blood slowly stop flowing and the place where he had just injected the blade begin to heal. But he knew it wasn't the end. He could still feel the images starting to spin in his head again. Pictures that wouldn't go away.
Tom sat there, not moving, and it was pulling at Harry. He didn't want this. He didn't want Tom to witness his fall, but Tom stayed anyway. Harry felt it in his silent presence, in the way his body was drawn to Tom, as if it was the only real element in this chaos.
"Why do you stay?" — asked Harry, finally breaking the silence.
Tom turned his head to meet his gaze, and there was an unwavering firmness on his face.
"Because I need you. Because I won't let you disappear."
Harry cringed, his hands falling limply onto his knees. "You don't understand. I... I'm lost. I can't stop it."
Tom leaned toward him, his voice soft, almost comforting. "You're not lost, Harry. You're confused. And that's okay. But you're not alone. You're not alone in this."
Harry looked down at his hands, at the places where there were still traces of blood. He couldn't understand why it was so important for him to see this over and over again. Why his brain was convinced that he had to do this.
"You want to run away from this?" — Tom asked, looking at him with such clarity that it was like a punch in the face.
Harry closed his eyes, feeling a crazy sense of hopelessness growing in his chest. "I don't know. I don't know how to deal with this, Tom. Everything inside me is screaming at me to do it.."
"You don't have to do this." — Tom placed his hand gently on his shoulder. "This is not your fight. You should not fight alone."
Harry clenched his teeth, trying to push away the painful feeling. He couldn't say he felt better. He couldn't say everything would be okay.
"But I feel like I need it." — Harry shook his head, trying to clear the thought, that pain is the only way to feel alive.
Tom sighed. "You are not needed here, Harry. You are important not because of the pain, but because of who you are. You are important to me."
Harry didn't know what to answer. He wanted to say something, but his voice wouldn't come out. He felt his mind begin to drift again, as Tom's image begins to glow in the dark, like the only thing he needs, - is to be next to him without thinking about pain.
"I can't keep you here if you don't want it." — Tom said, but his words sounded as if he already knew Harry would stay.
Harry looked at Tom, his eyes full of contradiction. "I... I don't know what to do, Tom."
Tom brought his palm to his face, calmly and gently. "Don't think, Harry. Just let yourself be."
Harry froze, feeling some of the tension in his chest disappear. He didn't know how it worked, but maybe that was the way - not to fight, but just to be there.
"I will be there even when you are lost." — Tom said quietly.