I just wanted to make you happy… I thought you understood me! I thought we were friends! I'm sorry your dad hates your boyfriend! My dad hates my boyfriend too! My dad also hates me! He's not proud of anything I do! He's ashamed of me! My mom's a f*cking drunk! She embarrasses me and teases me about my weight, my skin, calls me ugly to my face! Your parents call you beautiful! Your brother hugs you and helps you! My brother hits me and screams at me! You have a million friends to turn to! I have you. THAT'S IT! Your boyfriend calls you beautiful and hugs you and kisses you! Mine gets embarrassed to STAND BY ME! I'm sorry that I can't have a wonderful life! I'm sorry your life is so goddamn perfect! You're supposed to be my best friend! You're supposed to get me and understand me! You're supposed to hug me when I'm crying and tell me that life is going to get better when I know it's not! Well you know what? F*CK YOU! I HATE YOU! I F*CKING HATE YOU! But I don't have the nerve to tell you to your face because if I did, I'd be alone… I'd have nothing…

Dick bit violently into his bottom lip until it stung under the piercing, but he kept biting, blinking off the tears. His skin felt on fire, but the underneath felt ice cold. He was nauseous, sick, disgusted.

He stared at his pale blank wrists, the blue veins clearly displayed. He greatly considered taking the scissors on the dresser beside him to the veins, but he couldn't do that. No, he couldn't leave Bruce. That was the only reason he could think to stay.

His best friend, no, his whole world had practically just left him. This was their second fight to date, in the same month. This was their worst though. He hadn't meant to sound like a bitch, but he had and Wally had snapped. Red rimmed blue eyes darted to the phone screen, opening it again to read the same heartbreaking text message.

"You have ridiculous problems all the time and you complain to me about it and I try my hardest to make you happy because you mean the world to me! And this meant a lot to me because he does this shit ALL THE TIME, and all you care about is you? Screw you man. Why don't you just go and complain to daddy dearest about it, 'cause there's no way I'm listening anymore."

He bit deeper into his lip until it throbbed and his lips went numb, but he just swallowed hard and blinked harder, shutting the phone. Before he could control himself, he took the phone and he chucked it across the room. Lucky for him, it rammed into the pile of pillows he had, but it still had the same effect on him. He took a deep breath, his chin quivering violently. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn't give Wally that victory. He shakily got to his feet and walked across the room, picking up the phone. He stared at the screensaver of him and Wally with a hateful glare before he began to send a reply.

He didn't want to lose Wally. He also really didn't want to blow his cover. Part of him was tempted to send back a text with the same level of hatred, but he almost couldn't bring himself to do it. Reading the last line again though, the fury flew through Dick's fingers.

"Well, SORRY that your dad is being HUMAN. Come on man, knock off it. And if I could, I WOULD complain to my dad, but he's buried six feet under the ground in Gotham Cemetery, right next to my mom. I'm sorry that your family is alive and well and that they love you! I'm sorry that your mom still can hug you and say she loves you! I'm sorry that Christmas time is so crowded! You complain more than I do! You complain over things I've dreamt FOUR YEARS of having! So, screw YOU man. The hatred's mutual."

He couldn't bring himself to send it though. Bruce would kill him and he'd lose his only true friend. With a frustrated sigh, he bit even harder into his lip, surprised it hadn't busted yet and backspaced it all. A tear fell from his eye, but he frantically scrubbed it away, blinking off more tears. His eyes stung now, but he didn't care. He wasn't going to cry.

"Sorry."

That was all he could think to say. He wanted to yell at Wally, but he knew he couldn't afford to. The second the 'Message Sent' notification came on screen, Dick dropped his phone back onto the pillows and walked back to his bed. He collapsed onto it, burying his face in his pillow. He let out a shuddery breath, but he wasn't going to cry. Instead, he dislodged his teeth from his lips and tried to focus on breathing in the stuffy air of the pillow. He wanted to sleep and forget this all, but when he heard his phone vibrate from his pillows, he knew there was no chance of that.

He didn't get up though. He didn't want to have to see what the ginger had the nerve to say anymore. He just wanted to lay there and waste away until he was just a pile of bones with a broken heart nestled safely inside the rib cage.

Dedicated to Bailey Albright. I don't care what you say anymore. I'll still call you my best friend, but I hate you. Part of me hopes you read this, you inconsiderate asshole. Review, don't, choke yourself for sexual pleasure... I don't care. I don't care at all anymore.

-Frank and f*cking Joe 3