Michael Mell was dead. Practically, anyway. It had been a car crash that had gotten him; a random death; an unnecessary one. One that got loads of coverage for a few days as Michael leaned on life support to live.

The driver he'd nearly crashed with described it with sickeningly vivid descriptors - they were a writer, Jeremy learned from the newswoman as she had given the report - that Mell had averted an outright crash between them by veering off to the left and into a ditch. While turning left, however, Michael ran into a stop sign, which his car had knocked into the air and which had impaled him at the temple. Seeing the beaten-up PT cruiser his best friend had driven for so long lying derelict in a ditch, windshield shattered and front squished against the ground made Jeremy shiver.

Jeremy barely remembered the following weekend; it was a blur of crying his eyes out and staying in his room and lying on his bed whilst staring up at his ceiling fan, letting it wipe away his tears for him. He only remembered in detail two moments: when he got home from the movie he and his dad went to see that night and finding out that Michael was in a coma and on life support. Expensive life support. Your-insurance-company-will-only-cover-it-for-a-few-days life support.

He hadn't left his room for two days; he hadn't eaten, showered, or brushed his teeth. He'd only changed his clothes after an hour's coaxing from his father. Jeremy knew that his skin was sallow as he exited his house; was aware that his deodorant was old and likely didn't provide adequate masking of his BO; that his hair was a mess and that tear tracks remained on his face.

He didn't care.

Let them stare, he thought bitterly as he got on his bus. Let them silently part for him in the halls - not out of respect for his grief but more so that they could tell themselves that they gave him space to grieve and had done something respectable. Jeremy found a window seat and plopped down on it, moodily focusing his gaze on the brush that lay just beyond the sidewalk. It swayed in the gentle late November breeze, as if it were waving happily to him. As if it didn't contain the ditch that his best friend had gotten impaled in. As if it actually cared.

Jeremy was unaware of looks he got from the person across the aisle to him, because his back was turned to them. Chloe Valentine sat there, the Queen Bee of MiddleBorough, and found some small amount of sympathy festering as she looked at Jeremy. A moment later, some small amount of guilt replaced the sympathy, and she looked away. She'd spent the past two years either putting him down socially or watching as Rich Glowinski or Jake Dillinger taunted him in the halls whenever possible. He'd been just a punching bag of a loser to be dismissed - literally in some cases.

Chloe looked away and back to her phone where and amiable conversation was happening between her two closest friends, Jenna Roland and Brooke Lohst in the group chat. She had just typed something to enter it when she heard shuffling; she glanced across the aisle, seeing that Jeremy had stopped looking out the window and was now fishing around in his backpack for something. But that's what her eyes noticed second, however. She got a good look at Jeremy's face, and found herself entranced.

Not because it was extraordinarily attractive (though she knew that Brooke had definitely sneaked a glance or two at it) but because of what it contained; Jeremy's mouth was a flat, trembling line that told Chloe that the teen was holding back emotions. His skin was sallow, and his eyes were red and puffy. Tear tracks were visible. His hair was unruly and unkempt, clearly having not been cared for. Sympathy festered in Chloe's gut again.

Shaking her head, and drawing a few glances as blonde curls bounced up and down, she looked back at her phone.

When the bus came to a stop in front of Middleborough High, Jeremy numbly slung his backpack over his shoulders, staring determinedly at the ground. He gripped his backpack straps with white knuckles as he got off, and found that, just as he'd predicted, people were parting in the hall if they noticed him.

He made it to his locker without any difficulty, and put in the combination on muscle memory rather than actual attention. Jeremy zipped his backpack open and got his binder out in silence, noting that all the other people who were doing the same did so with a very noticeable urgency. He felt a sardonic sneer tug at his lips. They're afraid the freaks gonna freak out, he thought savagely. But don't question how the freak got there.

Jeremy slammed his locker shut, spreading a vibration through the lockers next to it. He hooked his arm around his binder and turned in the direction of his first period. He saw the power trio of Chloe Valentine, Brooke Lohst, and Jenna Roland walking in his direction. Probably to Chloe's locker, which was just down the hall. The teen glared at them. Chloe stopped talking when she noticed Jeremy's glare.

Their eyes met for a moment; Jeremy's filled with utter and complete hostility and hatred, Chloe's unreadable and guarded. Brooke and Jenna glanced at each other, and Jeremy internally expected some nerves to soften his gaze. None came, however, and he soon began walking again. Towards Chloe. Towards someone who had immeasurably more status than himself, and who could sick the football team on him at even the smallest slight. The person who had convinced everybody in MiddleBorough that he was to be ignored and cast aside. He continued walking, not really caring about the consequences anymore. Michael was gone. What else did he stand to lose?

Both Brooke and Jenna realised what Jeremy expected to happen and looked worriedly at Chloe. To their surprise, she stepped out of Jeremy's way. Jenna, as soon as Jeremy was out of earshot, opened her mouth. A particularly harsh look from Brooke had her closing it before she could speak though. Chloe resumed her stride a moment later, Brooke and Jenna following concernidley in her wake.

The day went in a blur for Jeremy, until just after seventh period. He was making his way down the hall when he came across Chloe, Jenna, and Brooke again. He internally swore.

"Why'd you do that, anyway?" Jenna asked, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. Chloe hadn't answered her all day, and she'd popped the question on her twice before. Chloe shook her head.

"What, give Heere some space?" Chloe asked with irritation. "Did you see the look in his eyes? He would have murdered me." Jenna nodded.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he decides to just sneak a gun in one of these days," Jenna said. She leaned over to whisper something into Chloe's ear, but froze when she glanced around. Jeremy was stalking past them, looking, somehow, even more hurt than he'd looked all day. His white-knuckle grip had returned, though he was grasping the sides of his binder this time. His footsteps were awkwardly stiff, and Brooke was giving Jenna a harsh look again. Chloe, however, noted the small tremor that overtook Jeremy as he past. Guilt festered in her gut again.

Chloe spent eighth period uncharacteristically inattentive. She didn't pay attention as her teacher droned on about The Battle of the Wilderness; she just rolled her pencil between her fingers and stared with unfocused eyes at the surface of her desk. Bague and uninteresting, it didn't warrant such inspection, and Brooke shot her worried glances as the class wore on, and took extra notes so her friend - who she knew was clearly disturbed - wouldn't feel even worse because she failed the next test.

When the bell rang, Chloe rose to her feet swiftfully, banging her knee against the underside of her desk. She was giving Brooke a pointed look as she collected her things. As soon as Brooke had gotten her binder in her hands, Chloe had grabbed her arm. She dragged her friend through the hall, drawing plenty of confused looks as she did so, until she reached an empty classroom. Chloe pushed the door open with such strength that the door knob banged against the wall of the room, drawing yet more curious looks from nearby students. Brooke had barely the time to open her mouth before Chloe spoke.

"What was Heere's last period?" she asked, urgency in her voice. Brooke frowned.

"I think he shares it with Jenna," the teen said. "...they sit next to each other, right?" To that Chloe swore so badly that Brooke clapped her hand over her mouth.

"I have to find him," she said, and with no further words she rushed out of the classroom, leaving a very confused Brooke in her wake.

Chloe didn't bother grabbing her bag. She speed-walked through the halls, people darting away in the wake of the most popular girl in their school. Her eyes held urgency, and she got several second glances from other students. The rumors that would come from this would be rampant, she knew, but that guilt that had festered in her gut on the bus had formed into a simmering flame as the day progressed. After seventh period, however, it had grown into a full-blown inferno.

The expression on Jeremy's face was something she could only describe as completely crushed; all the depression her belittling had caused (something she realised with some horror he must've learned to mask very well) had been on display. The pain and grief was obvious in his eyes, even though Chloe suspected that he'd convinced himself that he was holding himself together.

He wasn't, though.

Chloe felt like shit. Michael was Jeremy's only friend, and she knew she was the major reason why; if only Rich and Jake harassed Jeremy, he might've still made friends. If jocks pick on you, you might get some sympathy. He might have had another person to help him through this. But as it stood at the moment, Jeremy had nobody - because she'd convinced everybody else besides Michael Mell that he was useless and a pervert. Because, Chloe realised with shock, Michael was stronger than she was. Braver than she was.

She'd performed in front of crowds, sung in choirs. She thought she had confidence; and she did in a way, but it relied on others. She didn't have self-confidence. Michael Mell had had self-confidence enough to back the person who everybody else dismissed. Because she convinced everybody else that Jeremy wasn't worth their time.

Chloe turned a corner, and stopped in front of a classroom with the numbers 387 above it embossed in gold lettering above the doorframe. She pushed the door open. The sole person inside, a man in a blue-gray janitorial uniform looked up as Chloe entered.

"Sorry, missy," he said distractedly as he scrubbed the top of a desk. "The teacher left the instant school ended. She's open for appointments in the mornin' though." Chloe stood for a moment, stunned, before swearing again. The janitor looked up, surprised, but before he could comment Chloe had left the room. Panic was rising in her throat. Jeremy wasn't there. She exited the classroom with a large amount of worry. She had to apologize. Had to before Jenna could screw it up anymore.

Where would someone like Jeremy go, though? He wasn't athletic; didn't do any clubs; didn't have any friends' whose houses he could go to. Chloe tried to avoid the obvious answer, the bus, and prayed that wasn't the case. He'd've gotten onto a bus easily by this point. She could try it there, but it would be very public. So public that Jeremy might just chose to ignore her. That could serve her socially, though; if he rejected her sympathy, she'd be the one who was reasonable, the bully who tried to make it up to their victim and wasn't accepted. For a moment, Chloe considered taking that action. It would be so easy to do. Well, it would be easier, anyway. It would ten minutes at the longest, because Jeremy's stop was so early. So easy...

A whimper reached her ears.

It was faint, but there. It came from the other end of the hall, and Chloe could make out a lanky outline dart around a corner, hands covering their face, not a moment later. Jeremy, she thought. He'd seen her before she'd seen him. She chewed her lower lip. She could just claim she didn't find him in time today; that would fly easily with Brooke, and maybe Jenna, too, assuming Chloe kept a straight enough face. But the guilt would eat her alive by tomorrow if she didn't even try. Nobody would know, of course, such was her skill in masking things like that, but she'd feel like shit until she did something.

Chloe rushed down the hall and turned the corner lanky had fled down and saw that same outline glance over their shoulder and turn another. She sprinted to the end of the hall and turned that corner, only to see the same thing play out. Somewhat frustrated and beginning to feel pain spreading through her chest, she continued to follow lanky until she turned a corner that lead to a hall with a dead end. At the end, with their legs clutched close to their chest and their head resting on their knees, sat lanky. Chloe took a tentative step forward, feeling uncommonly self-conscious, and lanky looked up. Jeremy's face looked back at her.

His eyes red and puffy and shined with tears. His face was streaked with them; the fabric covering his knees was dark with them. His skinny arms were covering his head, and dug into his scalp.

"The fuck did I ever do to you, Valentine?" he choked out. "I try to grieve but you follow me anyway," Jeremy's voice wavered. "Michael's gone. You've already taken my confidence and social life. What else do you want?" Chloe was silent, stunned by the sight before her.

"What do you want?" Jeremy repeated, voice high-strung and near breaking. "Here to call me pervert again? You didn't do it in the morning," Chloe bit down her own snappy response. She didn't get to open her mouth, though, before Jeremy was speaking again.

"What's it gonna be this time? My hair? Skin? My acne's still here. Oh, how about how gay I am - wait, you wouldn't do that. It's not original enough," he continued, and Chloe felt her mouth go inexplicably dry. Jeremy sucked in an unstable breath.

"Um…" she began. Jeremy gave a hearty, bitter laugh.

"Think I haven't figured it out by now?" he cut her off, looking crazed. "This has been going on for two years, you know. I'm not stupid." His glare intensified.

"Just leave me to cry my eyes out alone, please." Chloe blinked several times. Jeremy's words, so sharp and cutting had left any responses she had lined up in shambles. His eyes, so full of anger and bitterness, had her horrified. It made some part of her want to just leave him alone, but she put that part down. She'd already damaged him enough.

"I didn't-" she started, only to be cut off by Jeremy again.

"You didn't what? Mean anything in what you said? Meant it all in good fun?" he spat, rising to his feet. He looked manic, and that made him all the more unnerving in Chloe's eyes. "That all of it came out of the bottom of your grinch-sized heart?" Chloe once again found herself speechless, but also realised that Jeremy was beginning to rant now. She took a breath, readying to interject.

"That you just let the joke run too-"

"Jeremy-"

"Don't interrupt me!" he glared. "You get to see the truth this time! After everything you've done to me I need to get this out." Jeremy rose to his feet. His eyes looked positively manic. He began talk again, ranting about how Chloe and Rich had destroyed his self-confidence, how many times he cried himself to sleep, and many, many other things… Chloe felt utterly awful.

"Jeremy, I'm sorry," Chloe said, finding her voice unable to stay even. But Jeremy laughed again.

"What're you sorry for? I thought you would be proud of the fruits of your labor. It did take you two years after all," Chloe shook her head, opening her mouth. Jeremy didn't give her the chance to speak. Again.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a trainyard to visit." he said, and he egan walking past Chloe.

"Trainyard…" she repeated, confused, under her breath as Jeremy brushed past her. "Wait!" She grabbed his arm.

"What?"

"Would Michael want you to do this?" she said. Jeremy froze for a moment.

"Michael's as good as dead," he said bitterly after a moment. "Now let me go." He tried to wrench himself from Chloe's grip, but she dug her nails into his forearm in response. Jeremy bit back his groan and glared at her.

"Would he want you to throw your life away?" Chloe asked. Jeremy's glare intensified.

"You know those rumors about Michael being a stoner?" she nodded. "They're true. He got stoned in his basement dozens of times before he got into that crash. And one of those times - after Rich had given him a wedgie that day - he got high while I was there. While he was high, he told me that he loved me." Chloe blinked, and her grip slackened a little from shock.

"And he ended up kissing me." Jeremy yanked out of her grip.

"He didn't remember that. But from then on I realised why he was staying my friend. He's gone now." Jeremy fully turned around, and had begun walking down the hall again when Chloe lunged at him. She tackled him to the ground, pinning his arms to his sides. His head banged painfully against the linoleum floor as he went down.

"What the hell?! Get off me!" Jeremy shouted, but Chloe's grip was like iron.

"I've treated you like shit," she said. "I know the last person you want to talk to right now is me, but I'm not letting you kill yourself if I can do something." Jeremy looked at her, eyes wide for a moment, before he shook his head.

"So your reputation doesn't go down the toilet?" he sneered.

"This is a moral thing," Chloe replied coolly.

"You have morals?" Jeremy snorted, squirming underneath Chloe.

"Yes, I do," she said, fighting back her indignation. "And I know that I wouldn't forgive myself if the headline tomorrow was about how you got yourself smeared across the front of a train." Jeremy blinked again, and his squirming stopped for a moment. Chloe didn't relax her grip this time. She had him calm now - calmer at the very least - and now she had to talk him down.

"What pushed you to this?" she asked.

"You." Jeremy answered. Chloe flinched.

"Who else?" Jeremy sighed heavily. He looked at Chloe, the person who'd called him pervert or some variant of that word nearly every morning since Freshman year. Her face had concern written all over it. It also displayed an intense resolve. His arms were starting to hurt from how tightly Chloe gripped them.

"Rich and Jake. Dustin sometimes…" Jeremy trailed off, "...why do you even care?" he said, glare coming back in full. Chloe managed to keep her flinch internal.

"Because I feel guilty," she said. "As cringy as it sounds, I never realized you actually got hurt because of what I did," Jeremy snorted once more.

"Really? You thought that calling someone a pervert every morning for two years wouldn't affect how they view themselves?" said Jeremy, exasperated. Chloe took a deep breath to keep her tone even.

"I'm trying to talk you out of killing yourself. You're not making it easy for me." Jeremy snorted again.

"Why should I? You never made it easy for me to fucking walk in the hallway," he snapped back. Chloe internally flinched again. Maybe bringing up his family would help her case.

"Jeremy, think about the effect it'd have on your family," she pleaded. Jeremy raised a brow. "How would your parents react?"

"Parent," he corrected. "Mom left my dad and I in eighth grade." Chloe's eyes widened.

"Well… um… then how would your dad react?" she asked, reeling. How many times had Rich made a yo-mamma joke about Jeremy's mother in the cafeteria? And how many times did she laugh to those, ignorant of how they probably made Jeremy feel? He opened his mouth, still glaring, but closed it a moment after. His glare faded and he was silent for several moments. Then he shook his head and it returned.

"He wouldn't care," he muttered. "The bastard won't even put pants on when he works from home. He wouldn't care." Chloe shook her head.

"He would." she said firmly. Jeremy opened his mouth, but for once Chloe spoke before he could.

"He would and you know it. So what if he doesn't wear pants when he works? He's working to keep you fed every night," she said. Jeremy shook his head again, but uncertainty flashed in his eyes for a moment.

"He does it because he has to to feed his own fatass," the teen said. Chloe narrowed her eyes.

"If he didn't care you'd've been given to a foster family." she stated levelly. There was a moment of silence between them. Jeremy's eyes closed shut. Chloe was unsure of how to interpret the boy's silence. After thirty more seconds, a tremble raked Jeremy's form. Silently, a tear slid down his face. His eyes opened.

They were shining with tears again.

"I… give me a moment…" Jeremy mumbled, but he didn't move at all. Chloe stared at him. His fighting had stopped completely. Realisation washed over him in one massive wave, feeling as if he'd just slid ice down the back of his throat. Jeremy shook his head.

"I need my phone," he said shakily. Chloe raised a brow.

"I promise I won't try to get out." Jeremy said, conviction in his voice. Slowly, Chloe released him from her grip. He did exactly as he said he would. He slid his phone out of his back pocket - a flip-phone. Chloe resisted the urge to shake her head at the outdated thing.

She got up off Jeremy, and he rose to his feet. He didn't try running. Instead, he entered a phone number.

"Dad?" he asked. Chloe watched him guardedly, ready to tackle him again if she needed to. But she didn't have to.

"Can you pick me up from school? I… missed the bus." he said. Chloe wasn't able to make out what Jeremy's father's response was, but by Jeremy's expression, she felt she had a decent judge of it. Jeremy folded his phone up and put it back in his pocket. He looked up at Chloe with a smattering of growing red on his face. He took a deep breath.

"I-I'm sorry you had to see that…" Chloe held up a hand.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize," she cut in. "I'm the reason you're even in this state." Jeremy opened his mouth, then closed it. He felt a supreme awkward silence fall between them. Chloe took a breath.

"So I'm sorry. For everything." she said uncomfortably, and she stepped toward Jeremy. He took a reflexive one back. Chloe shook her head, and in swift motion, she'd grabbed Jeremy's hand. His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair. Chloe pumped his arm twice.

"How about we start over?" she said uncertainly. Jeremy felt his face flush completely, so he looked like someone had just dipped his head in marinara.

"T-that would be… nice." he said, then suddenly his fingers were no longer entwined with Chloe's. He gestured behind her and took a step back. She looked over her shoulder; Brooke was rushing down the hall and (much to her chagrin) Jenna wasn't far behind her. Chloe turned to them. Brooke skidded to a halt before her, hands on her knees, panting.

"It-" she breathed, "took - me - five minutes to find you," Brooke said. "What're you doing here?" she asked, straightening her back. Chloe opened her mouth, but Jenna coming to a stop had her closing it. She glanced back at Jeremy, who was blanching. She gave him a 'I'll handle this' look and jerked her head in the direction of Brooke and Jenna. Jeremy didn't need telling twice.

Swiftly, he passed all three girls, shooting Chloe a final, very sheepish look as he turned the corner.

"What was that about?" Jenna asked promptly after Jeremy had left. Brooke, still catching her breath, couldn't find the energy to glare at her. Chloe shrugged.

"I think he'd want it to stay between us," she said, hoping to appear nonchalant. Clearly, though, she hadn't, as Jenna smirked.

"You didn't..?" she started keenly. Chloe glared at her, raising her right hand threateningly.

"No," she said with conviction. "I didn't kiss him, suck him off, or fuck him," Jenna's smirk became more entrenched. Brooke, though, slapped her arm.

"You have a dirty mind," she said fiercely. "And besides, he's supposed to be the pervert. Unless you want that to change, Jenna?" Roland's face flushed, and she blinked hard.

"N-no - I was just wonder-" Chloe chuckled darkly.

"-Ing if I got it on with a nerd?" she said, and Brooke felt a grin tugging at her lips. Jenna looked between them, mortified, and shook her head. She opened her mouth again, but Chloe wasn't looking at her.

"Brooke, I think that Jenna needs some time alone," she said loftily. Brooke nodded and followed her down the hall and around the corner, leaving a very confused and shocked Jenna behind.

"So, what did happen?" she whispered eagerly as soon as she was confident the pair were out of the well-known hearing range of Jenna. Chloe shook her head.

"I still think he'd want it to stay between us," she responded. Brooke gave her an appraising look, though she stayed silent. The two walked in silence until they reached Chloe's locker, when she saw Jeremy and another, broad-shouldered figure near his own. Brooke's eyes widened, but Chloe simply tried to catch Mr. Heere's eye.

Eventually she did, and she tried to pack all the emotion of that day into one look, and must have succeeded to a degree, because Mr. Heere shot her a glowing smile after a moment. Then he slipped an arm around Jeremy's shoulders and lead him out of sight.

Brooke was giving Chloe a bemused look and she shrugged again.

"I think it's better if it stays between us."

AN: Well hello there. This isn't my first BMC fanfic but this was the first I posted for it; it was originally a one-shot, and then I re-read the description and realized the more... *cough* possible romantic implications it has. And so you have my reason for continuing it. =)

Honestly, though, I haven't found a Jeremy/Chloe story on Ao3 or ffnet and found the idea intriguing. I can enjoy Jeremy/Michael as much as the next guy, but I'm also all for the unorthodox and unexplored. it'll make this stand out, if nothing else, I suppose.

Oh, and this is obviously pre-SQUIP. He might factor in later, but that's angst for another time. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter, any follows/favorites/reviews would make my day. 'Till next time. - Raging Celiac