So, here's your first chapter. This story will consist of a lot of flashbacks from Draco's time with Blaise for those ten months, Harry getting over his drug addiction, and stuff like that. We will also see Draco talking to his parents about what happened to him between those eight years he was gone, like how he managed to get to America, and how he found Blaise. So yeah, Disclaimer will be the same as the last one.

Warnings: Boy love, Abuse, and a whole lot of other things. Enjoy!

For ten months, ten months, Draco couldn't get rid of that stupid feeling in his chest. He knew what he had to do, but the attached feeling he felt was strong. It was kinda like the feeling you have for you Dad or mom. You hate them at one point, but you really need them no matter what they do to you, but Blaise was the kind of person that you didn't want to forgive, but always did.

But finally, finally, his strange emotional attachment had stretched out a little too far, and snapped like a rubber band, giving a large welt to anyone who was still holding one of the ends, and Draco was defiantly leaving this with quite a few welts, that was for sure.

Draco jiggled the key in the lock, slammed his foot into the bottom of the door (which had an imprint where their foots hit each time, because there door got stuck so you had to do this to get in), and banged his other hand on the top (same deal here, you could see knuckle prints in the door because they had worn the paint away), and it popped, and swung inwards.

The smell of cooking onions floated into his nose as he stepped through the door, and he saw where Blaise was cooking in the kitchen.

"Blaise, we need to talk." Draco said harshly, not even bothering to kick off his shoes. He was gonna get the fuck out of here as soon as he could.

"What is it?" Blaise asked calmly, turning away from the stove, spatula in hand.

"I don't think this is working out anymore. I mean your not getting better with the alcohol, you still abusive, you don't respect me, and the list goes on. I don't know what else to do, but leave." Draco said taking long strides to reach the kitchen. He saw Blaise's eyes spark with anger, and then noticed the beer bottle on the counter.

Oh he was screwed. No turning back now though.

"So you're breaking up with me? After how many years? 4 years and ten months? Something like that." Blaise asked indignantly.

"Yes, I'm afraid I am." Draco said walking and pulling his suitcase out of the closet. Having gotten a steady job half time, he was able to afford some nicer things.

"You'll come back, you always do." Blaise said arrogantly, watching him closely.

"Not this time Blaise, not this time." Draco sighed, turning his back on the kitchen. Bad move.

The first thing to hit him was the spatula. It hit the back of his knee, and he whipped around. "This is exactly –" The pan came next, hot oil, onions, mushrooms, and all, hitting him in the ribs. There was a loud crack, and pain fingered out from the spot rapidly. He was pretty sure at least one rib was broken.

He clutched his side, his arms burnt where the hot oil and vegetables had made contact with his skin. Now Blaise was pelting him with the glass bottles' of spices he'd been using previously, several shatter on the wall behind him, exploding in showers of glass and pepper or something else, but others smashed into his torso, arms, and a few lucky targets hit him on the forehead.

Finally, Blaise walked over from behind the counted, eyes' shining raw with anger and hurt, beer bottle in hand. He swung it like a club, and it cracked against the side of Draco's head. His head split open, glass embedding itself in his face and skull, blood pouring out of the multitude of cuts.

This seemed to snap Blaise out of his rampage, and he looked shocked. "Oh god, what have I done?"

Draco didn't answer, just turned and ran, well more like wobbled quickly, away. There was a trail of blood following him, and it didn't matter if it was coming from his head, side, or arms, it was an alarming site, because this wasn't a few drips, this was a brook, no this was a river, of blood, trailing behind him.

He was getting very weak, and he wasn't sure how far he'd gone, or how much farther he could go, but if he lost much more blood, he'd be dead. He couldn't call anyone because his cell phone was in the apartment, and all his stuff was too. Years of abuse by a lot of people, made him scared of anyone who got a little too close, so asking for help would only send him into a worse panic.

There was only one answer, and luckily that answer happened to have just walked out of an interview, at 11:23 pm. Draco stumbled up the empty road, his legs growing to be deadened weights.

Draco tripped over his numbed feet, and strong arms caught him. He looked up, and saw exactly who he wanted to see.

Harry looked stunned, but then he looked concerned.

"Draco?"

As soon as Harry had uttered the words, Draco passed out. As the world faded to black, all he could see behind his eye lids were a pair of great emeralds watching him. He was safe at last. And unknown to either of them at the moment, Draco's chest was about 60 pounds lighter, and the python that had once griped his heart, nodded approvingly, before going back to where ever it was he had been before.

So, they are back together, yay! But will Draco be the same after all the abuse he's suffered? Dundundun defiantly something to think about guys. Thanks for reading, and please review.