Disclaimer- I don't own Pokemon, blah, blah, blah...just let me get on with the effing story!

What I Go Through When You Aren't Around

Blood trickled down his arm and he dropped the kitchen knife. He wiped some of the blood from his wrist with his right hand and stared at it, almost as if in fascination with his own life support that was currently draining away. His eye was itchy, and without really thinking he rubbed it quickly with the back of his left hand, and in doing so the blood that was freely flowing from his wrist dripped on his cheek. It ran down to his chin, all slow and agonizing like. Just before it dripped on the floor he lifted his finger and that's where it landed. Drawing the finger down his other cheek he created a 'tear line' identical to the other.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and decided to get a picture of this. His blank mindedness prevented him from thinking about the blood still pulsing from his wrist. He was beginning to feel the affects. On his way to the kitchen he thudded against the wall in the hallway in a dizzy spell. Once the floor stopped rocking back in forth he continued on, ignoring the drops of blood that splashed soundlessly on the wood floor. At least it wasn't carpeted...the blood would be such a pain to try and clean out.

He grabbed the camera off the top of the microwave and returned to the bathroom. He stared at his pale face in the mirror, and then raised the camera and took a picture. It took a few tries, but he finally got his face centered in the middle. Finally he let his attention wander back to the wrist on his left arm, and decided out of sheer whim to wrap it. He washed himself off and smeared some Neosporin on the fresh wound.

After he wrapped his wrist in gauze he walked to his room and lay down. The world around him had begun to spin after he had taken the pictures, and it hadn't stopped yet. After lying on his bed for less than ten minutes there was a knock at the door. Groaning he stood and went to answer it. There was only one person he really wanted to see, no matter how much it would hurt him. Swaying on his way to the door he caught his balance by grabbing the back of the sofa.

He really wished he had a peep hole in his door or something. Oh well. If it was anyone beside her he would just shut the door again and walk away. He twisted the doorknob and ignored the twinge of pain from his wrist. Upon opening the door he came face to face with the only one he wanted to be there. She was crying. And finally he realized his folly. He saw her. She was crying. Even if she were smiling he would have felt that horrid hole in his chest burn and tear open, filling his whole body with unbearable pain.

But she was crying. With his right hand he gripped his left side to keep from collapsing. The whole in his chest was trying to tear him apart. His eyes burned from the pain, and he wanted to slam the door and never face the world again. But they always said to put your needs before your wants, and right now he needed to talk to her. He needed to stop the crying.

Hiding the wounded wrist behind his back and ushered her in, careful not to make any contact. He knew that wouldn't be the best thing for him to do right now. He was already weakened by his blood deprived body and the salty tears streaming down her face. He told her he would be back and raced to the bathroom. He didn't want her asking about his wrist in particular, so he hastily wrapped his hand as well. Grabbing a box of tissues he headed back into the living room, only to find her staring at the dried droplets of blood on the floor. 'Aw, shit. I forgot about the blood.' She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"It's nothing. I just cut my hand on a knife earlier. I went to the bathroom to wrap my hand and before I got the chance to clean up the blood you came. It's no big deal." He shrugged and sat down on the sofa, handing her the box of tissues.

"We...we had a fight." She whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

"Oh. Is that why you're here?" He was deeply concerned, and his eyes said it all.

"Yeah." The tears flooded her eyes again and spilled down over her cheeks. The hole in his chest ached for her.

"May...don't. Don't start crying again, please." His voice was soft and pleading. He couldn't stand to see her cry.

"I'm sorry...I...I just can't help it!" She dropped her face into her hands, but he could still see the tears spilling through her fingers.

Ignoring the throbbing in his chest he gathered her small frame up in his arms and hugged her tightly. The pain was instantly washed away. This was right to him. May quieted down after a while and just sat there, glad for the comfort from her only friend here. He loosened his grip and they sat in silence for a long time.

"Do...do you feel like talking about it?" His voice was hesitant, and he prayed with all his heart that she wouldn't want to. There was nothing more painful than listening to the one you love with all your being talk about a fight they had with their boyfriend.

May shook her head and buried her face deeper into his shirt, hoping that he wouldn't press her into talking. There wasn't anything worse than talking about a horrible fight with a wonderful guy that you didn't even like. Especially when the listener was the one who had captured your heart and you couldn't seem to get it back, no matter how stuck up he was sometimes. That was Drew for ya. Fifteens minutes went by, and May had fallen asleep snuggled contently in Drew's arms. He smiled and rested his chin on her head. Five more minutes and the two of them were both sleeping. There was nothing better than a good nights rest in the arms of your secret love.

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Drew woke up, and his attention was instantly focused on the warm body that he had his arms securely wrapped around. He lifted his head and looked down at said warm body, and once he realized it was May the events of the night before flooded his mind. He couldn't help but smile at the cute look May had on her face when she slept. He gently kissed her forehead, wishing that this wonderful moment would last forever. No such luck. May woke up five minutes later, her blue eyes foggy with sleep. She looked up at him and a goofy smile spread across her face. Mornings were definitely not her thing.

"Good morning sleepy head. You feeling better?" He cocked his head to the side, and she giggled in response. Music to his ears.

"Mm-hmm. What time is it?" She remembered every little detail of the fight she had last night, but right now it seemed unimportant and dream-like. She was with him right now, and that's all that mattered.

Drew glanced at the clock on the coffee table by the couch. "Seven-thirty. It's a good thing today is Sunday, or you would be late for work!" He smirked.

"Yeah..." He eyes grew distant and unhappy. But Drew wasn't looking. He had already moved off the couch and was heading for the kitchen.

"Breakfast?" He called from the kitchen as he opened the fridge.

"Sure."

"The usual?"

"Yup."

May had stayed at his house for a few weeks before because her house was being fumigated and repaired. They had pancakes, eggs, and bacon every morning for breakfast. While Drew was preparing the sustenance for the morning May went to the bathroom to wash her face. That's where she found a bloody sink and floor. 'Oh my god...he lost a lot of blood!' Grabbing a washcloth she cleaned up the dried red and proceeded to wash her face. She failed to notice the bloodied knife point that stuck out from under the bathroom closet door.

May finished washing her face and went to the kitchen, carrying the bloodstained washcloth. Drew was flipping a pancake just as she entered the room, and when she noticed the knot holding his apron on she smiled. She knew that the edges of the apron were dyed dark blue, as were the ends of the cloth strips you tied around you to keep it secure, even though she couldn't see the whole thing. She gave him that apron for his birthday two years ago, when she had first moved here.

Drew turned around after he finished flipping the pancake, and his name was written in old-style cursive with silver acrylic paint on the front of the apron. May quickly wiped away her smile before he could see it and waved the washcloth she was holding in his face.

"Do you see this!? This washcloth is soaked through with the blood I cleaned up off the sink and floor in that bathroom! Your blood! Do you realize if you had lost much more you could've passed out, or even died!!?" Her voice was shrill. I mean, you would be pretty upset too if you had to clean up a large amount of blood that belonged to the one who captured your heart!

Drew stared at the washcloth for a few seconds and then looked at May, searching. Had she found the knife? He didn't want to have to make up another lie about why it was in the bathroom as well. He hated lying to May. It was the very bane of his existence, along with any guy that looked at her the wrong way. Ugh, and her god-awful boyfriend. He sucked too.

"Hey, I'm fine! You don't need to get worried over nothing!" He pointed a finger at her.

"You call this nothing!? Honestly Drew, you could've bled to death! And how big is this 'little scratch' anyway?! By the looks of things you must've gashed up your hand pretty badly! You might need stitches! Let me see it!" She dropped the washcloth on the floor and snatched the bandaged hand.

"May!!" He yanked his hand away, and when she reached out to grab it again he dodged around her, attempting to flee the kitchen. Too bad he forgot about the washcloth on the floor.

In one swift movement he grabbed the nearest thing to him when he began to fall, and that just so happened to be the arm of May. He crashed to the floor and May landed in a sitting position on top of his stomach, her knees touching the floor on either side of him.

"Ugh! May, get off!!" He moved his hand up to push her off, but she grabbed his left one and proceeded to remove the gauze.

"Stop it May! Don't touch that!" But he couldn't squirm out of her vice-like grip.

"No! I need to see how bad this cut really is! You might need to see a doctor and get stitches!" she had removed the gauze from a little over half of his hand, but had found no trace of a cut thus far.

Her brow creased with confusion when she finished removing all the gauze from his hand.

"Drew?" He turned his head and looked away, not willing to meet her eyes. She discovered his little secret after all this time he had successfully covered it up.

That was why he wore long sleeves most of the time. On his pale skin there were five other scars that hadn't fully healed up and were still a light shade of pink. Three more ghostly lines stretched the width of his arm, but because they were shallow cuts the scars were barely visible. He had been cutting ever since he was thirteen. He started because he was all alone at home when his grandfather called to tell the family that his grandmother had died, and Drew had no idea how to deal with that pain by himself. May had unwound the rest of the gauze and dropped it on the floor as she stared in horror at the fresh slice in his skin.

Her eyes wandered the length of his arm, and for each scar she saw she visibly winced. Drew couldn't stand the pained look on her face. The hole in his chest suddenly reminded him of its existence, and he squeezed his eyes shut to force back the tears. But as soon as he felt May tracing the old scars his eyes flew open to watch her. A tear ran down her cheek as she gently ran a finger over the newest mark. She looked him in the eye then, and her pools of blue were pained and sad.

"Drew…..why? Why have you…..you done this to yourself? Why?!?" Her voice quivered with pent up emotions, and the tears began to fall.

Drew said nothing. He couldn't just up and decide to tell her why! He couldn't tell her that he relieved his misery this way. He couldn't tell her this was how he dealt with the emotional pain that had become a black hole on his chest and sucked his heart in. He couldn't tell her this was because of her boyfriend. He couldn't tell her this was because he loved her with all his heart but she belonged to someone else. He just couldn't.

He managed to pick her up off of himself and sit up, gathering her into his arms. He had made her cry. She was crying because he had done this to himself. She had no reason to shed tears over his 'hobby', but she was.

"Why? Why, why, why?!" May sobbed into his shirt and she hit him in the chest with her fist, but he barely felt it.

"May….please calm down. I….I can't explain anything if you're blubbering all over me." He managed a soft smile when she looked up, her eyes puffy and her lips set in a pout.

"May, this," he lifted his wrist up and looked at it, avoiding her tear filled eyes, "this is how I deal with my pain."

"What?" She blinked a few times, trying to understand.

"See, whenever something bad happens, something that I can't cope with, I……I deal with it like this. Each one of these scars has a painful memory for me. Two or three of them are because of the same thing." He was actually talking about the freshest three, but he didn't have the gut to tell her what the reason was. "The first one," he traced it with his finger, "was when my grandmother died. I was all by myself….and I had no idea what to do."

May sat and listened patiently as he explained each bad memory, his eyes distant and horribly sad.

"The next two came when my dad died of cancer. Quick and sharp…..that's all I was thinking when I did it. And this one happened when my grandfather died." A ghost of a smile played with his lips. "He always told the most wonderful stories……." Drew looked at the last one that didn't have anything to do with May. "And this….this was because of me. I hated myself for cutting; I hated all the pressure in my life, and most of all….I hated that drunk semi-truck driver that crashed into my moms' car about a month ago." He dug his nails into his palms until his knuckles turned white.

May sat there, her eyes wide with horror. "You…you never told me….your mom died."

Drew wasn't listening. His chest ached unbearably from the resurfaced emotions. All the things he wasn't able to deal with…..they were all the things that were bottled up inside of him. All of the things that had come together to make the black hole that was slowly destroying him, from the inside out. A single tear leaked from his clenched eyes, dropping onto his scarred arm. As soon as May saw it she hugged him, trying to stop the breakdown she knew was coming. He had bottled up all those emotions, and now they were all coming back.

Drew shuddered as he tried to keep the tears from falling. And just when he thought he had it under control, May asked him a question he didn't know how to answer.

"Drew…what about the last three? What happened that made you do that?" She rubbed his back, trying to keep him calm so he could talk.

"He happened!" Drew hissed, unable to control the rage that was filling his heart.

"What? Who? What are you talking about?" May pulled back to look at his face. It was clearly displaying his fury at this person whom she did not know (A/N: Well, she does know him, but she doesn't know that she does! Er…if that makes any sense…).

Drew looked away and his expression went blank. He couldn't tell her, not now. It was too late, and he had no intention of ruining the friendship that had built up over the years. He glanced back at May when he noticed her face light up with realization. She knew.

"Oooooh!!! It's a girl, isn't it?!" She squealed with excitement.

Oh wait. She shouldn't be excited. Drew liked someone. He liked another girl, which meant that her feelings would never be returned. May tried to remain happy on the outside, but on the inside she wilted and died. Her deepest love was officially one-sided. He loved this other girl, who had a boyfriend she loved. That got May ticked off. How could any girl in her right mind not like Drew!? Well, he was arrogant at times, and very egotistical, but that was beside the point! He could be really sweet when he wanted to be…

"So? Who is she?" May was attempting to sound jovially curious, but her tone fell flat. She was definitely not jovial or curious. Well, maybe a little curious, seeing as how she could find this girl and beat some sense into her for being utterly oblivious to Drew and his feelings. That could be fun…

"Er…..uh, you wouldn't know her." Drew was hoping May wouldn't see through his lie. He was horrible when it came to lying in front of May.

"Well…..would I know the guy?" She prodded, not able to contain the sleuth that wished to know anything and everything about these people.

"Uhhh….maybe?" Shoot. He just couldn't keep lying! And now she would guess it.

May looked thoughtful for a moment and then she laughed, but to her it sounded hollow and fake.

"How would I know the guy? I mean, I only know about five other guys beside you and Brendan!" Drew winced when she said his name, but thankfully she didn't see. "And as far as I know they are pitiful and dateless." She smiled for real this time, and it made Drew's heart lurch with his secret passion.

His basic guy instincts were all pushing him to just flat out kiss her, but he was Drew. He had to restrain himself for the sake of friendship and her relationship with Brendan. I mean, he did have enough scruples to respect the bond that they had made. Pfft, he was being so chivalrous today. May blinked in alarm and Drew turned to see what she was staring at. The pancake he had forgotten about was beginning to smoke from being in the pan to long. Oops. Well, such a strong attraction to someone else tends to make one forget about the pancakes they were making, no?

Breakfast ended much too soon for the both of them, but neither were about to say anything. May remembered she had made plans with Brendan for the day, and now that it was nine-thirty she was going to be late. After ten minutes of begging Drew to stop cutting, she made him promise to call her if he felt the need to do it again. Five minutes later she was out the door and gone, leaving Drew to feel empty and sick to his stomach. She had to leave to be with him. Next weekend would be it.

He had to spend some quality time with her soon or he would go nuts. They hadn't done anything for almost two months, and it left them both irritated and bored. Well, at least May had a distraction, but then she ended up having a fight with the distraction and she would sit on her bed feeling terribly guilty and alone. She wanted Drew, not Brendan. He was sweet and funny, but he just wasn't Drew.

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Four days later (Thursday)

Drew slammed the front door and leaned against it, gripping his torso and sliding down into a sitting position. He saw them. He them, and they were kissing. The hole in his chest burned and ripped itself open even further, with such an aggravating slowness that he thought he would go insane. Every time he tried to close his eyes and forget the image of their lips locked made his breath come short and haggard as pain viciously clawed at his battered heart. He needed something to drink, thinking it might help calm him down.

Drew staggered to the kitchen and grabbed a glass. He walked over to the sink to get some water, and just as he was about to turn the facet something shiny caught his eye. He turned his head to see what it was, and when his eyes fell upon the knife he had used to slice tomatoes that morning the glass fell from his hand and shattered on the floor. His mind was screaming for relief, and the knife called out to his flesh. In two quick strides he grabbed the knife from the counter and gripped the handle, preparing to carry out his urge right there.

But then he thought. If he spilled blood in the kitchen, it would most likely get all over the floor, and he would have a horrible time cleaning it up. When he all but sprinted to the bathroom he caught the phone on his way by and knocked it off the hook and onto the floor. And then his promise to May echoed in his mind. 'May…' He shook his head when the image of her kissing him resurfaced. Snatching the phone from the floor he ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. Sinking to his knees he pressed the flat of the blade to his wrist, trying to stop the fight he was waging with himself.

Part of his brain told him to do it, to forget May and her damn boyfriend and just get it over with. The other side was telling him, reminding him how she had begged him to call if he had the urge to cut again. 'DAMN IT!!!!!' An enraged growl rumbled up from his chest, and just to get his brain to stop thinking he dialed the phone and May picked up on the second ring. Lord, if that boy had picked up the phone bad things would have happened. Very, very bad things.

"Hello?"

"May!!" Drew let out a breath of relief. Her voice calmed him instantly.

"Hey Drew! What's up?"

"May, I….I mean, you…..augh, I need you to get over here now."

"What? Why? What's wrong?" She sounded worried.

"I can't….I need to do it. I have to! May, please!"

"Oh….oh, god. Drew, wait until I get there, just please wait!" Click.

As much as he wanted to just get it over with, he couldn't. He promised May he would call her. He promised he wouldn't do it. But she….she was more important than what he wanted, promises to her were more important than the air needed to breathe. But the cool flat of the blade against his flesh was taunting. He tilted it so the edge was pressed firmly on his skin, and sweat broke out on his forehead. He wanted the relief. He wanted it now.

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Okay everyone! Tell me what you think! I'm still debating whether I should turn this into a chapter story or just wrap it up as a two-shot. Please voice your opinion! I need to know what you as the readers want this to be, so review! And if you have any suggestions, questions, or spelling corrections please feel free to tell me. And I really hope I got the right name for Brendan. I'm too lazy to get off my butt and check to see if I have the right name, so if I'm wrong just yell at me or something. I'll get it right next time. Thanks for reading!

Mistoffelees Shadow