Nicholas: This is two drabbles on one subject. They are written for Demon Hunter, but very much influenced by Into the Fire (in which Sean Patrick Flanery's character cuts himself)...so...yeah.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Doesn't mean I can't dream.

Rating: T...dark themes...don't do this at home, kids.

Jake stares at his ceiling, wondering why he always holds his knife like this. Not that he gets very far in wondering, because he's well aware. The little pocketknife seems to spin with it's own vitality on the backs of hi fingers. He does it because he can and because there was no point in not doing it; he looks at the scars on his left wrist, then stops twirling the knife to look at his right. "I bet I'm ambidextrous," he muses to himself and the cold, lonely darkness of the world around him. Flicking the blade out with a practiced hand, he stares at bright metal in a moment's contemplation. After switching it to his left hand, he lowers the sharp side to his skin and drags it along a stinging margin. Nothing is better than knowing his blood still runs red.

Carefully, he lifted his arm to his face, holding it above him so that little trickles of thick liquid dripped down onto his lip. He licked it away with a brush of pink tongue before pressing the wound against his mouth and kissing it like a long-lost lover. Things like this…this was better than sex, by a long shot. Unlike sex, he could do this all the time. Unlike other people, he had the stamina to do this all the time. It got to be around the time when the sting faded into an aching pain that spread up to his shoulder. This was the part he didn't like, but this was the reason he kept doing it. His palm pressed against his forehead to try and tense away the hurt, to overcome it.