"Mr. and Mrs. Detweiler?"

The two adults looked up at the doctor that greeted them. Their worry and panic were clear on their faces after what had happened in the last few hours. Going from expecting a normal Friday night dinner, to finding your youngest in a bathtub, with blood pouring out of his neck and more than enough cold, flu, and sleep medicine to take out a full grown adult on the counter, to rushing him to the hospital.

"I'm Dr. Markwood, I'm the one assigned to your son."

"Please tell me he's okay," Mrs. Detweiler sobbed. "Please don't tell me we're too late...!"

"You weren't. It was shaky at first, but we managed to stabilize your son," said Dr. Markwood. "His neck, he did cut it, but he didn't cut a major artery, he cut a minor one. Still scary, but survivable. WE also pumped his stomach, though by then, a lot of it was already in his system, but we did what we could. Right now we're cleaning him up, and we'll let you know when you can come back and see him, alright?"

The two parents nodded, and Dr. Markwood left them be. They hugged.

"He's okay," Mr. Detweiler breathed. He took his wife's hand in one hand and wrapped his free arm around her. "He's going to be okay."

ZZZ

Seeing what was obviously a middle schooler pacing in front of the high school was enough to raise a few eyebrows, though none of the high schoolers bothered to ask what she was doing there. They figured she was someone little sister. CJ paced back and forth, waiting for Robert to make his way out of the school. That was an explosion waiting to happen.

She spotted him coming out of the front door with a few friends around him. Not wasting anytime, she walked right up to him.

"Robert, I need to talk to you," CJ said. "It's important."

"Uh, okay? I'll catch up with you guys," Robert said, separating from the group to follow CJ. he had only talked to TJ since school started, when he had the rare spare time to hunt him down. But he figured that they were all waist deep in the trials and troubles of middle school and didn't think much of him. "So, what's the problem?"

"TJ tried to kill himself," CJ said. She felt the sting of tears coming to her eyes, threatening to come down.

"Excuse me, what?" Robert nearly choked on his gum at what he heard, and he was hoping he heard wrong, but as CJ continued, he found that wasn't the case.

"His sister told me this morning when I went to his house. He did it Friday night and she didn't know if he was okay because she just got back," she said, staring at the ground with her fists closed. "Neither do I."

"Fuck. Fuck!" Robert slammed his fist against the chain link fence. He had no idea things were this bad.

"When I see Austin again I'm gonna finish beating the shit out of him."

"That's that bully that's been bothering him, right?" Robert asked. CJ nodded. "Then you're gonna have to wait until after I'm done with him. Do you know were he is? Where he lives or where he hangs out? I wanna show him what it's like when someone bigger than you decides to make you a target."

CJ shook her head. "I don't know. Randall probably knows, though. He was looking for dirt on him like a month and a half ago," she said. "If he does I'll let you know."

"Yeah, thanks," Robert sighed. "How are the others taking it?"

"I dunno that, either. After I found out what happened, I sort of went home, grabbed my baseball bat, found Austin and beat him with it. And my fists."

"Good job."

"We we're pulled apart and my parents picked me up. I'm meeting up with them after this."

"Alright. Okay. Thanks for letting me know," Robert said. "Keep me updated and let me know where that asshole is."

"Will do," she said. "I have to go, but I'll see you later."

Robert watched her leave. After getting that news, hanging out with his friends could wait. He needed to think.

ZZ

He laid in the hospital bed, too still, too unmoving. His mother wanted to push away all those machines he was hooked up to and scoop him up, protecting him from everything that ever hurt him and lead him to this. Laying in the bed, he looked so small and fragile.

How could they let this slip past them? They were supposed to be on the look out for any signs of this happening, what did they miss? were they not paying attention enough? What did they miss? What did they not do? What should they have done differently? Didn't he know they love him?

They sat at his bedside, taking his hand and squeezing, hoping that he would squeeze back, but he didn't. Dr. Markwood said that he should wake up any minute now, but the minutes ticked by agonizingly slow as they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

There are very few things that made time tick by as agonizingly slow was waiting for your own child to wake up as they laid unresponsive in a hospital bed. It's only been a few hours since they were excited for TJ leave that school behind in favor of homeschooling. While her husband stepped outside the hospital room to call Becky and let her know about what was happening, Mrs. Detweiler remained at TJ's bedside, waiting for even the slightest sign that he was waking up. It was difficult keeping her eyes off the bandages that were wrapped around his neck. Seeing her youngest hooked up to so many machines was almost unbearable.

"Please wake up, TJ," she sobbed. In one hand, she held his smaller hand, and with the other she ran her fingers through his hair. "Please wake up. . .we're going to take care of everything, okay? Everything's going to be better, just please wake up. . ."

ZZ

"Micheal, this is the fifth time we're going over these lines. You didn't have a problem with them last week. Focus!"

"Sorry, ma'am."

On any other day, it would be easy for Mikey to recite his lines that he studied every chance he could. But today, there was something wrong each time they reached his parts. Volume, tone of voice, infliction, the emotion behind it, one or more of those things that had the director pausing rehearsal to correct him. To say it was frustrating would be an understatement.

"Alright, everyone take ten minutes," the director said. The theater club let out a collective sigh. Some put down their props before sitting down or heading backstage. Mikey chose to sit on the edge of the stage, taking a deep breath to help clear his head, but it didn't do much.

He knew it, everyone knew about the news of what happened. TJ had. . . hurt himself very badly. It's been on his mind since the information reached him.

They weren't friends anymore, it was easy enough to turn his back and ignore Austin's tormenting of him. Mikey didn't think of it was being heartless, but they weren't friends anymore, and being that hyper empathetic kid he used to be would've made him a target, and he wasn't naive enough to do that. But. . .

They used to be friends. Mikey thought he was past those days when they were a group, past the sixth grade when the pointed at and laughed at what they thought was TJ's naivete for continuing to make those plans and the negative emotions he periodically exuded around them when he was gone. The memories of those times kept replaying in his head. He didn't interact with TJ, but before Austin came along, the five of them were his biggest bullies, weren't they?

And that certainly didn't help.

ZZ

A knock at the hospital room door brought TJ's parents out of their quiet conversation. Dr. Sage entered after getting their attention.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Detweiler," he greeted, joining them at TJ's bedside. "Sorry I couldn't come last night. And that we're meeting under such unfortunate circumstances. How is he doing?"

"The doctor said he's in a coma," his father said somberly. "He expected TJ to wake up not long after they brought him here but he hasn't."

"He took a bunch of cold, flu, and pain medicine, and cut his throat," his mother sobbed. "We had no idea it was this bad. . .what did we do wrong, Dr. Sage?"

"Hey, now. Let's not talk like that. Blaming yourselves isn't going to do anyone any good," said Dr. Sage. "We should focus on what we're going to do going forward, alright?"

". . . You're right. You're right," Mrs. Detweiler wiped her tears. "I'm sorry, it's just. . ." She squeezed TJ's hand. He still didn't squeeze back. "He looks so small."

Dr. Sage nodded. Moments like this was never easy. Having to meet a patient in a hospital, psychiatric or otherwise, he'll never get used to it. He had thought that TJ was making progress, but patients were known to lie time to time. He sighed. It was like he said, they needed to make a plan going forward, starting with a frank and honest conversation about what happened before this.

ZZ

How was she supposed to know-

She didn't think he would-

She never thought-

When ever she had a line of thought it would be interrupted by the next. One any given day, Spinelli was quieter than the rest of the Ashley's because she didn't have the same enthusiasm for sharing and spreading rumors as they did. She paid enough attention to know what she needed, but today she couldn't even do that. Something else was preoccupying her thoughts.

It was gnawing at her, being the only one of the five of them that knew that TJ had been taking pills for whatever was going on in his head, but she thought he was being dramatic, like in sixth grade. God, he was such an emotional drain to be around, was it so bad that they had a few laughs about it to feel better and lighten the mood?

Hindsight is a bitch. He wasn't being dramatic, was he? He really was depressed then? Maybe it was because she still had the image of him being the head of their group, always happy, always carefree. Was it just easier to think he was faking it? He had the pills and everything, but she still thought-

He sure as hell wasn't faking it now, if he really tried to. . .

God, did he really try to kill himself?

. . .

Even if they weren't friends, he still had his own-

Most of the school thought he was freak. They thought he was weird all the way back in sixth grade.

Everyone get's bullied every now and then-

Austin never let up on it. They even helped him with that garbage prank at the dance. She was laughing along with the rest of the crowd, even if, when she looked for just a second, she saw the defeated look on his face. She convinced herself that it was embarrassment; who wouldn't be embarrassed? But that was defeat, wasn't it?

Spinelli knew TJ to be a lot of things, but defeated is not one of them.

What was the point of trying to defend what she did anymore? For all she knew, TJ was dead and gone, and she was just trying to make herself feel better. It wasn't working anyways. She felt like shit, and in all honesty, she deserved it.

ZZ

Most of the time, being ahead of her homework meant that Gretchen had plenty of free time to work on her own personal experiments. Especially the long term ones that were going to look magnificent on her college applications. But now, having that extra free time meant she had time to think about things she heard at school.

Everyone had heart about it. But she, like the other students who wore the label of being one of the smart ones, reminded themselves that they were above petty rumors and gossips that other students concerned themselves with. They were better than something so frivolous. And it was easy to do that when it didn't concern someone they didn't know.

Gretchen sat at her desk, watching the kinetic orbital desk toy continue it's swinging and rotating. The chances of something like this was so infinitesimally small, there had to have been something she missed. Some factor that she didn't know to consider. But she couldn't bring this up with her study group. They would think of her as being foolish for caring about something like this. Even now, she was convincing herself that thinking about it was just correcting her earlier assumptions to keep whatever she was feeling about it away.

However, that was failing.

. . .

TJ was one of their longest lasting friends and there was a significant chance that he was dead as she sat at her desk, unable to convince herself that she didn't care. Unable to ignore what role she and the others had to this current 'situation'. Now or back in sixth grade. It was juvenile of her to partake in that petty act of revenge that lead to the incident at the dance. It slipped her mind in sixth grade to question his sudden shift in demeanor.

All she could do now is sit at her desk and go over the numerous what ifs in her head.

ZZ

When she got back to her house, CJ saw Randall, Menlo, and Ashley waiting for her. The gathered up her room, with the backpacks tossed in the corner, along with the baseball bat Ashley returned to her. Homework could wait; there were more important things to talk about.

"I just got back from letting Robert know," CJ said. She paced back and forth between her desk and bed. If her mother saw her, she'd warn her about wearing a hole in the floor. "He wants to beat the shit out of Austin."

"I don't blame him," said Menlo. "None of us saw this coming. I wish we did so we could've said or done something. Anything."

"Randall, you followed Austin around when you were looking for something to blackmail him with, right?" CJ asked.

"Yeah, why?" Randall asked.

"Robert wants to know what those places are. He wants to know where he can catch him. So do I," she said. "And when I tell our kickboxing team, they will, too."

"Did you get suspended?" Ashley asked.

"No. At least not yet, anyways," she shrugged. "If I am, Austin better be. He's got blood on his hands. Him, and every last one of his lackies. I guess they want to know if everything is true or not. Either way, I don't know if I can make myself go to school tomorrow. I'll ask my mom if I can stay home. . ."

None of them blamed her for that. Hell, this was a lot for all of them to take in, and part of them wanted to ask their parents the same thing. Going to school tomorrow meant they were going to be asked questions by anyone interested enough. Even today, though they only knew what CJ screamed at Austin in the halls.

But out of all the students who were curious enough, none of them were TJ's old friends. They didn't know whether or not to be thankful for disgusted at their indifference, Randall and Menlo in particular. Maybe part of them thought the other five gave in to the pressure to conform to middle school social rules but still cared deep, deep, down, even if they vehemently denied it. But today, their silence spoke volumes.

ZZ

That little shit caused him nothing but trouble since school started.

They didn't have any proof that twerp actually tried to kill himself. For all they know, this was all a hoax or some shit just to get him in trouble! Austin scoffed. He might've gotten sent home but he wasn't suspended or grounded or anything. Not without any proof. As soon as school was out, he headed down to the football field to meet up with the others. Maybe now that he was out of in school suspension he could get back on the team. They didn't know what to do without him.

"What're you guy talkin' about?" Austin asked as he approached. Practice still wasn't starting for another ten minutes, but it was clear from a distance that they were talking about something.

"What are you doing here, Austin?" Jason, one of the linemen asked.

"What do you mean what I'm doing here? I always come to practice, even if all I can do is watch," he said. "I gotta keep up some way."

"Look, Austin. We don't want you hanging out with us, okay?" A linebacker, Ethan said. "We can't make you not try to get back on the team, but outside of that we don't want anything to do with you."

"What? Wait, is this about that short shit?" Austin snapped. "You don't even know if any of that stuff is true!"

"If it is, we don't want to be around you. If it isn't, we still got rid of an asshole in the group," said Kevin. "It's a win either way."

"Fuck off, Kevin!"

"No, you fuck off, Austin! You aren't getting it! If that guy killed himself what do you think is going to happen? You think his parents don't know about you? They're going to be coming after you! They might even charge you with murder!" Kevin nearly shouted. "I told you you were going too far, but you didn't listen! picking on a guy and bullying is one thing but you might've killed him. And we don't want anything to do with a killer."

"So what, the rest of you think the same thing?" Austin asked the rest of the group. Most of them didn't say anything, though a few of them silently nodded. "Fine. Fine! A bunch of cowards afraid for nothing. . .see if I care."

Rather than stay where he wasn't wanted, Austin left.