Chapter Forty

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A/N !!
This chapter is intense. If you are triggered by any of the following, then you should ask  for a quick chapter recap at the ending note for myself or a fellow reader to reply to and tell you what happened. Keep yourself safe.

Trigger warning:  suicidal concepts, self harm, anxiety, alcoholism, sexual assault.
Begins at marked "TW" and goes until the end of the chapter
<3

XL
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Crystal's POV ***

Connor shrieked and squirmed as I scooped him up in my arms. We were playing tackle-tag in the living room. I laughed as I fell backwards onto the couch, causing him to let out a squeal of his own laughter.

Slightly out of breath, when he scrambled off of me, I didn't follow. He tried to pull me up from the couch, but I just leaned forward and picked him up again, placing him on my lap.

"I need to go to the gym more often if I'm gonna keep up with you all break," I told him, booping his nose- which he scrunched right after in the most adorable way.

"Can we watch a movie?!" He got excited and bounced a little on my lap. I couldn't help but smile at how goddamn cute he was. I also couldn't help but wrap my arms around him and squish him into a hug, which he absentmindedly returned.

"Hey guys," My mom came around the corner, and I smiled up at her.

To say Connor was what she needed in life would be the understatement of the century. I honestly got emotional sometimes thinking about how much of a light he was in her life.

I had partially expected her to feel really sad all the time and to see too much of my brother in him... and maybe that was still true, but the parts of my brother that were in him were the parts that she would want to feel connected with again, anyway. Connor was a pure little flashlight helping her find her way back home after walking out too far into a dark night.

Maybe being home for break and being around Connor so much would magically heal my problems, too. My mom was doing a fantastic job of staying clean. But I, on the other hand...

I don't think I'd ever been as ashamed of myself as when I packed that extra bottle of vodka into my bag when I came home from my college, knowing we wouldn't have any at my house. I was disgusted with myself, but I did it anyway. And I hated it. So much.

"We gotta go buddy," my mom said down to Connor with a smile.

"But I wanna watch a movie with Cwystal," he looked back at her with puppy-dog eyes.

"I know, sweetie. How about we all watch some together when we get back?" She raised her eyebrows, and he instantly got excited again. His little hands clapped together a few times out of joy.

"Yes!" He beamed, and I swear the cuteness was starting to legitimately kill me.

They were going to Connor's first therapy appointment at a place a few towns away. My mom had done so much research into how we could best help out Connor and make him stay happy and healthy as he grew up. I was proud of her for it, and happy for Connor because of it. He was in such good hands.

It honestly made me think about Jake. I'd never outwardly criticize the way Ashton brought him up- and is still bringing him up- because I don't think I could've done half as well myself... but the only person that Jake really had to talk to about his trauma was Ashton.. and we all know how emotionally distant he could be... and, well, I don't know, I was just a little concerned, was all.

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