A/N: Trigger warning for self-harm


... Three Months Later ...


Bret Newman was incredibly diplomatic for a fourteen-year-old douchebag; he was violent but not necessarily vicious, cool and collected most of the time. He knew how to keep his composure even as he beat the shit out of a younger kid. Like father like son.

Phil just took it like he always did, and he still wished he could do something to actually help Bret. He knew with every hit that it was a blow that George Newman had brought down on his son. He'd seen Bret's own bruises, though less severe than his own, and he really did wish he could help even as the older boy had beaten him half to death a few times.

The verbal abuse was almost as bad. Phil knew his self-worth was rapidly declining with every taunt Bret would spit at him. Bret would take a crack at him for anything, and most things he said Phil had never even considered until Newman pointed them out. They were becoming all too real for him to ignore.

But those weren't even the parts that he minded –he could take the pain, whatever Bret inflicted on him, physical or emotional scars bourn quietly. What really got to him, what made him cry alone at night, was that no one seemed to care.

The students never said anything. They saw it happen, of course; Bret actively tried to keep it secluded and after school let out, but there were always the stray kids that passed by at really saw him having the shit beat out of him, but none of them ever said anything –and Phil had to figure it was because they were afraid Bret would lash out at them, too… or maybe he just wasn't worth their time saving.

The teachers never said anything. They saw the bruises from time to time, when Phil wasn't able to hide them very well. He saw the looks of sympathy they'd spare him when they noticed a particularly painful one, but no one addressed it. The old adage was apparently to let boys be boys, and this was what boys did. It was survival of the fittest and who were the adults to interfere, right?

His parents… he wasn't sure they even noticed. Phil knew he couldn't tell them about it, because that would only make things worse, and ultimately they couldn't really do anything about it. Phil had taken to retreating to his bedroom when his parents came home from work, and they never bothered him there. He wondered sometimes if they ever noticed he had locked himself away; he wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.

His only relief was the hour he'd spend on the phone with his best friend, living so close but so far away. Everything else was starting to fade to darkness.


Dan wasn't making many new friends at his new school. He was well liked by most everyone –a welcome change- but he was still adjusting and not ready to actively make any friends just yet. His mother had tried to talk him into hanging out with some of his classmates after school. He'd go to the library instead and say he had when he got home. His mother was happy, and Dan was given more time to settle.

Thomas was nice enough, and his house was bigger than any Dan had lived in before. For the first time since his brother was born, Dan had his own bedroom again, which was good for the hour at night that he'd spend on the phone with Phil. He missed him so terribly, and an hour was never enough, but it was what Dan's mother had to limit it to.

They'd lie to spare one another. Dan would say that he was making new friends but never forgot that Phil was his very best friend, and that he was getting along with Thomas and almost wouldn't mind having him as a stepfather; he said that he liked the new house and the teachers were nice and his grades were improving –that one, with hours spent alone in the library over the last few weeks, was actually true.

Phil lied, too. He never told Dan about anything going on with Bret, and said he was making friends with students his own age, that he was still doing well in class and he was adjusting well to not having Dan by his side –though he always made sure to emphasize that he missed him terribly, and that he couldn't wait to finally see him. They had no idea when that would be; Phil hadn't seen Dan since the day he moved out.

Dan didn't fully believe everything he was being told, and though he reminded himself that Phil would never lie to him, at the end of every call he'd have to ask, "Are you sure you're alright?"

And Phil would fake a smile he knew couldn't be seen over the phone, but hoped it would make his voice sound lighter when he always answered, "Yeah, I'm sure."

Dan would nod, accepting and somewhat relieved to hear it. "Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."


In five years, this was one of the two secrets he kept from Dan. The first was, of course, that Bret Newman was hurting him. The second: he was hurting himself, too.

It had never quite been a cry for attention, or even a cry for help. Between all but losing his best friend –his only friend- and being battered and berated pretty severely on a daily basis, it was becoming too much to handle without some sort of coping mechanism, and this was the only one that almost worked.

It started a month ago, with a few small slits made with the blade of an old pencil sharpener; they were no worse than paper cuts, the sting just as bad but somehow addicting. And over the next few weeks, it progressed, and rather rapidly. The same inconspicuous blade had come to slice through the fat on his stomach first, and when that was covered he moved onto his thighs, chest, and he was now working on his upper arms. He counted every single one; there were almost two hundred now.

It was getting more difficult to hide them, even from passive eyes. Deep down, Phil knew he wanted others to see them, to know he was hurting and maybe finally help him like he'd been needing so desperately.

He always went through the same routine after speaking to Dan, after remembering just how alone he was now that he could never really see him anymore. He'd go into the bathroom, fresh pyjamas coming in with him, his blade hidden in the small pile of clean clothes. He'd shower, washing quickly so he wouldn't seem to take too long. His blade was getting rusty but he didn't care, he'd drag the sharp edge across his thick flesh and wet the scalding water make it sting as it washed the blood clean down the drain. He never cut too deep, and let the bleeding stop before he got out and got dressed, going through the motions as always. He'd fall asleep with tears dripping down his face and hoping the wounds wouldn't reopen in the night.


Dan came home from school on Friday and was surprised to find Thomas's car in the driveway –he was never home this early. Curious, Dan went inside as usual, and found his mother's boyfriend in the lounge.

"Ah, there you are."

Dan nodded and set his schoolbag down. "Yeah, I'm here…! What are you doing home from work?"

"Well, I had a talk with your mum last night. She finally told me about how much you miss your friend, and how upset you've been about not being able to see him." He stepped over and rubbed Dan's shoulder. "So I figured the least I could do for my potential stepson is take you to go see him."

Dan beamed at the thought of finally seeing Phil again after three months. "But isn't my dad picking me up?" he stammered; he usually spent Friday through Sunday with his father at his new place.

"I already talked to him, and he said he can miss this one weekend with you. And your mum talked to Phil's parents and they said you could stay until Sunday."

Dan was literally grinning ear to ear. He was in shock and so, so happy and it almost felt too good to be true.

"Now, don't get used to it too much, kiddo, this isn't gonna happen too often. When you're older and can get yourself there, you can go see him all you want, but right now that's not easy to arrange. Promise you'll have fun while you're there?"

"Yes!" Dan squeaked a little louder than he'd meant to.

Thomas smiled. "Alright, go get in the car."

Dan had never run anywhere faster in his life. In a very short time, he'd be seeing his best friend again. For one short weekend, he thought, things could be back to normal.


A/N: Reviews = quicker updates!