Kyle was sitting at his desk daydreaming. Now that was not so much a problem, except for the fact that Kyle was not really one known for daydreaming. He was more of the type to make sure he and everyone else got their homework done on time and he would make sure their teacher knew if someone did not. Though he was mildly popular for other traits, that was not one of them. The only one to actually get mad at him for it was Fanboy, who was not usually on time, and everyone knew that was the one and only reason Kyle snitched; to tick off the usually calm superhero wannabe.

Now, however, said 'hero' was gone, and on reflex Kyle had been about to tattle, but one glance at that now empty desk had made him want to cry, and Kyle recomposed himself quickly with a deep breath. He was the only one there. The only one that had been a close enough friend to go to the funeral and not look like he was just being polite. Fanboy had gone, of course, and Yo and Lupe as well to support him, though Fanboy and Kyle found it insulting. The boy was not a broken toy or a lost pet; he had been a person.

That was what Kyle was thinking of when he had a rather conflicted look on his face, and that look was only hiding what he really wanted to do: curl up in a ball in the corner and cry. Wizards did not cry, though, and Kyle had been guilty of that crime far too often at Milkweed. Here, however, no one made him cry purposefully. It had usually been the teachers that had done it. Part of the reason he had ended up in the public school system was due to the fact that he could not control his temper. Sigmund had always tried to help him control himself back when they had still been friends. Kyle forced his thoughts away from the subject. When the bell rang, their teacher still had not come into the room. Kyle swiveled back to look at Fanboy, who had his head laid down on his desk, and his arms outstretched in front of him. Kyle wanted to say something, anything, to comfort him, and try to get a smile back on his face, but he knew that would only happen with time. Sometimes things healed and sometimes they scarred over horribly, and Kyle desperately hoped for this little patch to heal. Without Chum Chum Fanboy was just a pile of goo in his desk with no personality at all. Kyle looked anxiously at the door, wondering where Mister Mufflin was. The rest of the students were chatting quietly amongst themselves. "Mister Mufflin isn't here..." Fanboy mumbled through his desktop, though Kyle seemed to be the only one to hear. "I'm going home, then... Probably..." Yet he made no move to actually move. Kyle wondered if he were talking in his sleep and had dreamed of an impossible coincidence, but he slid onto the floor then got up slowly and stalked toward the door.

Kyle just could not take it anymore, and he got up and followed Fanboy outside. Instead of being at the door like Kyle had expected, Fanboy was curled up in a heap on the floor at his locker. Kyle stepped forward wearily. "F-Fanboy?" The redhead whispered, his voice cutting through the hallway's silence like a knife.

"My name isn't Fanboy anymore..." The purple clad boy said quietly. "My name is Tobias..."

"Stop," Kyle said hastily, "Don't tell me your identity! You've got to protect your loved ones, remember?" It was his half attempt at a joke.

"...The only one I had to protect is gone..." Fanboy sat up and hugged his knees, lying his head against his locker door. "Kyle, do you think...? Do you think it could be...? M-My fault?" Kyle's mouth fell open slightly. "I know it is... I'm such an idiot! How could I have — how did I let my eyes off of him? Dammit!" He hit his head against his locker dangerously hard then recoiled with a hiss.

"Are you alright?" Kyle yelped. A darker purple spot was forming in the middle of Fanboy's forehead. "My goodness! We should take you to the nurse!"

"No. I don't deserve help."

"What in the world are you going on about? Of course you do, you ninny! You could bleed out, or something!"

"...It should have been me, Kyle..." Fanboy said quietly, fresh tears spilling out from over his cowl. The boy snorted and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "See, when Chum Chum... When he..."

"Let's skip that part." Kyle advised, taking a seat next to him. "What happened after?"

"Well... Technically it was before. Chum Chum didn't know." Fanboy pulled down his glove, revealing jagged scars down the underside of his wrist. They stopped and were more frequently made near the edge of the glove when it was pulled up, and Kyle felt absolutely terrified. Why would Fanboy show HIM this? Why not talk to someone else?

"You were trying to off yourself..." Kyle said quietly, "but Chum Chum thought you were in trouble." Fanboy nodded.

"That's why it's my fault. And I don't deserve your sympathy or, or anything else! Just leave me alone!" Fanboy turned his back to Kyle. "Dammit," Fanboy cursed again.

"What?"

"My nose is bleeding." Fanboy held his nose and stayed curled up where he was. "How come the one time I got the guts up to actually try he had to be watching me? Why didn't he just stay in bed like every other night I went out there?"

"You tried before?" Kyle whispered.

"Yes. Chum Chum saved me the first time, too, you know?" Fanboy let out a shuddery half-laugh. "That ended with less disastrous results, though."

"You... Used a big word."

"Disastrous, Kyle. As in horrible. I thought you were the smart one."

"I know what it means! I just didn't think you knew what it meant." Something then occurred to Kyle; if Chum Chum had been keeping him in check all this time, what would stop him now? Kyle knew Fanboy — or, as he had asked to be called, Tobias — could never break a promise. "Fanboy —" Fanboy grunted at him, "Um, Tobias. If you went home, would you promise me I would see you tomorrow?" Fanboy's head rose, though he did not look behind himself. "Promise we'll see each other tomorrow?" Kyle repeated quietly. Fanboy was silent, but a small, unseen smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Someone cared. Someone besides Chum Chum cared about him.

"I promise, Kyle," Fanboy stood up and walked toward the front doors. "Don't worry about me."