I do not own Boy Meets World.

I was asked to add my second chapter, and I just got the time.

So, I hope you enjoy it. :3

xxxx

Cory came home two days later. He took to watching Shawn because there was something that wasn't right about him. He looked nervous all the time, and he never wore short sleeve shirts, even though it was ninety degrees outside. Cory tried to find a way to talk to him, but Shawn always seemed unavailable when Cory wanted to talk to him. Cory voiced his concern to Topanga, but every time her response was the same.

"Cory, it's okay. Maybe Shawn is just trying to give us some space."

Cory and Topanga seemed so happy in their new life together, that Shawn didn't want to intrude. How the hell was he supposed to ruin that for his best friend? How could he be selfish enough to ~yearn for someone, Cory to talk to him? He couldn't expect Cory to baby him now, he had ~no one. He was alone.

Shawn started to cry as he grabbed his razor and took off his shirt. He walked slowly into the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub. He stared at his wrist, covered in straight, shiny lines, rough on the eyes, smooth on the skin. Each scar looked the same, and yet they were all so different. Signs of hopelessness, loneliness, and regret. But most of all, signs of Shawn's weakness. They were the signs of his inability to conform, inability to adjust, and an inability to ~cope. No one had ever touched his scars; they were his own piece of sanity. What would happen if someone ~knew?

Shawn dug his razor into his wrist. He bit down on his lip, trying to silence the scream that almost escaped. He did his left wrist, followed by his right. He pushed them in and down, in and down. Until they wouldn't stop, until they ~couldn't stop. Shawn began to panic. This isn't what he wanted, this isn't what he meant to do. He grabbed for the mockingly white towel that hung from the rack. He wrapped his left wrist, and watched it as it turned into a candy cane, just as his arm always soothingly had. This wasn't soothing. Shawn's head began to spin, his arm was screaming, but his mind screamed for ~more. But a realization crashed over him. He was going to die, bleed out, be alone and scared. He needed something. He needed Cory. He needed his best friend.

Shawn grabbed for his cell phone. He painfully pushed in Cory's phone number and listened to the phone ring for what seemed like forever. Finally, someone picked up.

"Hello?" Cory said in a groggy voice.

Shawn tried to say something. He opened his mouth and tried to force out words. But nothing came. Shawn closed his mouth and moved his finger to the end button.

"Hello? Shawny? Is that you, buddy? Is something wrong?

Damn it, caller ID There was no way Shawn could escape this now, whether he answered or not, Cory was going to show up. He tried to fill his lungs, and forced his words.

"Cory, Cory. I need you. I need you." Shawn was crying.

"Shawn. What happened? What's wrong?"

"Cor, Please. I need you. I need you." Shawn was breathless. "Come, Cory, please." Shawn hung up.

"Shawn? Shawny? Buddy?" Cory said into a quiet phone.

Cory raced to his car, without bothering to pull on anything but a coat over his bare torso. His hair was still a mess, and he was still wearing his loose flannel sleep pants. He sped to Shawn's old trailer, to the place Cory hadn't visited since they were younger. Cory couldn't concentrate on anything but Shawn. Anything but his best friend. Anything but the attractive boy who used to hold Cory when he had nightmares as a child.

Cory ran into the trailer and called out Shawn's name. He didn't get a response at first, but after a few second, Cory heard moving in the bathroom. He took four quick steps and slowly opened the door. Cory found Shawn half laying, half sitting against the bathtub. He was pale, his skin, his lips, everything. There was what seemed to be a white towel pressed into his wrist, but it was covered in red. Shawn tilted his head up; just enough so Cory could see the wetness streaming down his face. Cory swooped down and pulled Shawn into his arms.

"Shawn, what. ~Why?" Cory was crying.

"Cory, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please…"Shawn started breathing faster.

"Shawn, shh shh love. Please. Let me see."

Shawn pulled off the towel. The cut was deep, really fucking deep. There was blood everywhere, and it wasn't slowing.

"Shawn, oh my god. Hold on." Cory fumbled for his cell phone. He shakily dialed 911 and told the dispatcher what was happening. Shawn's face continues to whiten, as the dispatcher told Cory that they were sending someone immediately. Cory hung up, and recollected his best friend tighter in his arms.

"Cor. Cory?" Shawn gasped.

"Yes, love. Yes. What?"

"It hurts." It sounded childish to Shawn. "Can you. Kiss my wrists? I don't, I don't want…"

"Before Shawn could finish, Corey's mouth was against his best friend's arm. Form elbow to wrist, clean or red, Cory's mouth touched it all. Cory reached Shawn's palm and kissed the center. He paused for a moment, until he went back up his best friend's arm. He leveled his mouth with Shawn's. Cory opened his eyes, and kissed Shawn lightly on the lips. It was so wrong, but why did it feel so right to Cory? He pushed his lips onto Shawn's, and waited for Shawn to make a move.

But Shawn didn't move. None of him moved.

"Shawn? Shawny. No. No. Please?" Cory was shaking Shawn.

That was when the ambulance arrived. Red lights flashing. Red like Shawn's arm. Red like the towel. Red like the remainder of the boy's clothing. Red like Cory's best friend's blood on his lips.

Red like the outfit on the EMT that pulled Cory from his friend's lifeless body.

Well. Okay, here's the ending. Please let me know what you think!