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"I’m trying to help! You had a problem, and I fixed it!”

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“Randall…”

You can’t help, but show fear. He’d been different since you’d picked him up from the hospital. But you were loyal, you were understanding, you’d stayed with Randall through worse, and you thought that maybe his stay in the hospital had helped him. 

And even though he didn’t remember a lot about you, and about your relationship, you still stayed. You gave him space, and you gave him love.

You waited a week since he’d been out of the hospital before leaving him alone for a long period of time. You’d just wanted to make sure he was alright. 

-

“I’m going out to dinner with my family okay, hun?” 

He’d looked up at you, like a kicked puppy, but when you gave him a kiss on the head he’d relaxed a bit. Randall doesn’t remember everything. His heads been fuzzy, but slowly things are coming to him. And fuzziness or not, he loves you.

And…as bad as it sounds…He may have been acting a bit more helpless than he actually was for your attention.

Randall isn’t sure what to do with you gone. He knows it’s not going to be very long, and knows (hopes) you’ll be back.

There’s no reason that you’d completely leave him. Right?

At first he wanders around the shared apartment considering his options. He could go next door and see if Mya was home, or…hang out with Tom?

He’s still considering his options when he see’s your jacket, neglected, and forgotten sitting on top of the equally neglected TV set. It’s cute. If you were there you would have laughed at his adorableness.Randall wraps himself in your jacket, taking in your scent before giving out a large sigh. 

It at least helped calm his anxiety. 

“Huh?…What’s that?”

There’s a book. A book Randall doesn’t recognize, peeking out from beneath the couch.

-

“I’m trying to help!”

There’s a wild look in Randall’s eyes, and in this moment you realize that a lot of things people had said about Randall, about what the police suspected him of…

It’s the first time you ever lost faith in your boyfriend. It’s the first time you ever felt afraid of your boyfriend. 

“You wrote about it in your diary.” He’s continuing to rant, and your stomach runs cold. You thought you had hidden that better…

“He was bothering you. He was harassing you.”

Randall reaches out, he grabs your hands in his own. His sleeves are dark and wet, and the iron cent immediately hits your nose.

“What-What did you do honey?”

You hope the use of the pet name will calm the manic look in his eyes. 

It doesn’t.

You had a problem, and I fixed it!