Needing the Pain

A/N: Ok, so, this is a sequel fic to my oneshot, 'Pain Distracts Pain' and I'm gonna try to make it chaptered, so, please read. And, it will make a lot more sense, (If anyone's even reading this :P) to read my oneshot first, so, Enjoy. :D

Disclaimor: I do not own Mcfly, though a girl can dream

Harry sat on the couch with his arms crossed, a frown painted across his face. "You're not serious, right?" Tom sighed. "Harry, I know that you're not agreeing with this, but you gave us all a heart attack, and we're just taking extra precautions!" Harry narrowed his eyes. "By searching my room?" Danny decided this would be a good time to step in. "Haz, please, don't take it the wrong way! Your just going through a rough time and by getting rid of anything that you might harm yourself with will make everyone feel better." Harry stood up, becoming annoyed. "What, so a small scare and you can't trust me, at all?" Tom crossed his arms. "Harry, it wasn't just a scare! You nearly killed yourself! We don't want that to happen again!" He shook his head, defeated. He knew they were just worried, and maybe he was overreacting, but he couldn't help but feel that they didn't think of him in the same way since he got out of the hospital. Like he had no self-respect for himself. And maybe he didn't. He knew what he had been doing to himself was wrong, but it had helped. In some, sick, twisted, painful, way, cutting himself had helped. He whispered, "Fine. I'm going for a walk, though. I don't need to see you do it." And with that, he grabbed his coat and walked out the door.

He sighed, hands stuffed into his pockets as he trudged down the streets of London. So many things were swirling around in his mind, cluttering every part of his brain with images. Images of the blood, his friends faces. Though, images of her overshadowed everything. She was all he though about, all he saw. She was everywhere. In every picture, every memory, every lyric of every song. He found a way to trace it back to his beloved, immensely missed, deceased little sister, Jane. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had been taken away. It wasn't fair that he had to live every day knowing that it was his fault she died. No matter what anyone said, he knew it was his fault. He had asked her to come visit, because he had to be selfish. He had wanted so bad to see her, he made her come last-minute, which led to her drving right to her death. Her mini hadn't stood a chance next to that towtruck. She had been a goner from the start. He blinked back tears that threatened to fall. No. He wouldn't cry. Crying for his sister always led to, well, that. He stopped, closing his eyes. He had walked to a park. In the distance, he heard laughing. Extremely familiar laughing. He squinted slightly, catching sight of brown hair by an oak tree. He ran.

He got to the tree, only to find that no one was there. He muttered, "Oh god." As he sunk to his knees, leaning against the tree with his head in his hands. He heard the faint laughing again. He started breathing harder. "No, please, I'm not crazy. I can't be hearing things!" He heard it again. He shook his head, trying to get it out of his head. A single tear fell. It was all too much. He wasn't even halfway over his one problem, and now he was hearing her laugh. Her sweet, sincere laugh that was now echoing around him. He groaned in frustration. "Maybe I am crazy. I nearly killed myself and now I'm hearing things. Why do I have to be so messed up?" Something in the back of his mind whispered, 'Because you killed her, you idiot. Why shouldn't you hear her? Why shouldn't you be reminded of what you did? Tom should have left you there. You should have died.' He furiously wiped away tears as he pulled slightly at his hair. He looked around. He needed to do it. He needed to get rid of the pain and the voices.

He found a tree branch, sharp and splintering. He pushed up his jacket sleeve, before stopping. No, it'd be too obvious. They'd check him there. He then pushed it back down, going for his leg instead. He droved the stick into thigh, painfully marking himself. This was different. It was sloppier, and hurt even more. A blade did a much better job, but he didn't have one with him, and this was doing the job just find. Slowly the voices faded away, slowly her laugh died, and that high, dizzy feeling came. He breathed out, leaning against the tree. The pain would keep it all away for a while. Now that Tom, Danny, and Dougie knew, it would be a lot harder to get his buzz. They'd be monitoring him very closely now. One thing he knew, was that he was completely, and totally, screwed.