Too short, again. Next chapter will be longer though, and sadly will also be the last.

Kendall walked home with shaky legs, managing to hold the remaining tears in as he walked into the empty house. He trudged upstairs, each footstep heavier than the last. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to love James so much? It just made him hurt. Hurt almost in a good way. He walked into the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and covering it in soap and water. He started scrubbing at his tattoo, gritting his teeth in determination. He scrubbed and rubbed at it until the marker lines were completely gone.

Giving a small smile of satisfaction, he dried his arm off and left the bathroom. He walked into the hallway to see his father standing there, face expressionless. Still, that didn't mean anything anymore. "When did you get home?" his father asked.

"On time," Kendall replied in a monotone.

"Any stops on the way home?"

He knows! Kendall's thoughts screamed. But he managed to keep calm and replied, "No."

His dad actually laughed. "Ok, Kendall." He stepped closer, but Kendall didn't dare back away. "I saw you, you know. I'm not stupid."

Kendall froze. When his dad started yelling curses and insults at him, he still couldn't move his feet. Then suddenly his dad was inches away from him, his fist raised. Kendall turned and ran, but he didn't get far before his dad grabbed him and threw him against the wall. "You deliberately disobeyed me!"

"I didn't mean to—"

Mr Myers punched Kendall in the cheek, knocking him back onto the floor, before pulling him back down and punching him again. "That's always your pathetic excuse! I've had it with you! You make me sick!"

"Please," Kendall sobbed. "Please don't . . ."

"Shut the fuck up!" Mr Myers screamed, kicking Kendall in the stomach. Kendall fell onto the floor, whimpering in pain. "You're useless! I thought I knocked the fag out of you, but you're obviously too fucking stupid to fix yourself! Do you think I wanna have you as a son?" He kicked Kendall again and again. "You're a disgrace!"

"No I'm not," Kendall dared to whisper at the floor.

"What did you say?" Mr Myers demanded, eyes wild.

"I'm not a disgrace," Kendall repeated, sobbing with fear but suddenly determined to speak up. "And I'm n-not useless . . ."

Mr Myers grabbed Kendall by the back of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. He stared him in the eyes, face reddening. "Hmm, looks like you've got spunk after all," he said. The fact that he wasn't yelling just made it more frightening. "We can't have that, can we?"

If Kendall had been scared before, now he was terrified. When he screamed, Mr Myers slammed a hand over his mouth. "You're not getting away without punishment, fag. Not this time."

James couldn't get that moment out of his head. He wanted to hold and kiss Kendall again so desperately. But Kendall wasn't in school the last two days of that week, and James wondered if his ex was going to more extreme means to avoid him, or if something was really wrong.

He didn't know what to do. If he went to Kendall's house to see if he was alright, his dad would spot him and if Kendall was ok, he certainly wouldn't be then. But if something was wrong and he didn't investigate . . . Kendall might . . .

Don't think like that. How can you stop cutting if you keep thinking of such depressing subjects?

But James couldn't help it. By Friday night, he was having nightmares of running into the Myers house to see Kendall lying on the floor or hanging from the ceiling, covered in blood, neck hanging limply. Another dream consisted of him spotting Kendall in the distance with his back turned, and running towards him, turning him around only to find that it wasn't Kendall at all, it was his dad. He was laughing manically, holding a bloody plaid shirt in his hands, and then James would hear Kendall screaming right before he woke up. It was horrible.

James was just sitting on his bed thinking of Kendall that Saturday afternoon, wishing he could do something to help. Why was he so hopeless? Then suddenly he couldn't take it anymore. James leaped off his bed and dug around in his drawer for the razor, pulling it out with a relieved sigh. He yanked his shirt off and rested the razor against his stomach. He was about to draw it across his stomach when he heard the doorbell. James sighed, dropping the razor on the bed and putting his shirt back on. He walked downstairs toward the door, opening it. "Hi," he said dully, then opened his eyes slightly when he saw who it was. "Katie?"

"Hi," the smaller girl replied, looking unhappy and uncomfortable. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure." James forgot about cutting. Why was Kendall's sister here?

The bad feeling overcoming his senses only increased when Katie said, "Do you love Kendall?"

"So much. More than anything."

"Then . . . I need your help. I think you're my last hope."

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