A/N: Hello! I'm sorry it's been so long! And I'm sorry this chapter is so short! But major issues arise for pretty much everyone's two favorites of the four guys (a majority, I guess you would say). But it's important and I wanted to get it out as soon as I could. So here it is. Oh, a warning: serious shit in here. It'll probably get worse as the story goes on. So….you can skip over it if you want, but I wanted to add a little spin into these characters, make them even more tortured. So away we go!

Serena kicked her legs out in frustration as she sat aimlessly on her bed. She should be rejoicing: word was Jenna had broken down and sobbed her heart out in the bathroom today at school. Plus, Chambers was getting the shit beat out of him lately. Everyone would love her now….she wouldn't be second best anymore.

But nothing was happening concerning her: it seemed as if everyone was too busy making their lives miserable to pay attention to her. There was something she had to do….

But she wanted to do something now. Anything. She was stuck at home, without Jenna and without a date. A date…..she hadn't had one of those since the summer.

It wasn't because no one had asked her. Everyone wanted a piece of her, of course. But she hadn't accepted anyone's offer since his. And she was with him. And they had fun. And then she dumped him.

You had to ditch him, she told herself. If she hadn't of, she'd be nothing right now. She'd be in the place Jenna was right now: hell.

She did like him though. She saw what she was looking for in a guy: herself. He was wild, he took chances, he was fun, he knew how to party, and he could be sweet sometimes. Sometimes, he got a little crazy though. Sometimes, he scared her shitless.

But what was she to do? She could still have plenty of guys at her beckon call. But she didn't want any other guys. But she didn't want to date him. And she certainly didn't want to be a lesbian either. Or single.

She grinned to herself. Hookups, those would be nice. She could almost taste him right now.

Why not go out tonight and have some fun?

But she'd have to find someone to have fun with first…..

Jenna opened her front door and a smile immediately was on her face.

"Hey Jenna," Chris greeted, and then he stepped into the light.

The smile was instantly wiped of her face and her heart stopped.

She took it all in: the bruises, the cuts. But she looked into his eyes, and there was where she saw the real raw pain.

"Chris, what happened?!" she questioned, rushing him inside, "Is there anything I can do? Ice? Let's get a towel for the blood—"

"You sure seem motherly this evening," he remarked, a small grin on his face.

She clutched his arm and led him quietly into the kitchen. She sat him on the counter, the same place he had been just a few days earlier, and she scurried about, grabbing the necessary materials she needed to help him.

She wetted the cloth she had and gently went to dab his face, but he turned his head away just in time. He sighed deeply and looked down at the counter. He couldn't let her help him. He couldn't invite other people into his own problems. They had enough to concentrate on themselves. He wouldn't let people take care of him anymore.

"Chris?"

He hesitantly looked up at her and her eyes were so concerned. Those emerald eyes bored into his and he could feel her staring into his being, into his soul, as if she was trying to discover something hidden in the depths of his conscience.

"Yes?"

"Can I help you?" she asked genuinely.

"Not really," he responded softly.

"Why not?"

"There's really nothing you can do," he told her, patting her hand.

"Yes there is," she stated determinedly, "There's always something you can do to improve. And I want to help you, and I'm doing that right now whether you like it or not."

He gazed at her, surprised by her firm kindness.

"Ok," he gave up.

She dabbed the cloth at a cut right below his right eye.

"What happened?"

"Daddy Dearest came home earlier tonight," he replied bitterly, and she was stunned at his tone.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, moving onto his neck.

"Not your fault," he told her, "No one's fault but his and mine."

She immediately ceased her nursing and looked at him.

"What do you mean it's your fault?" she questioned accusatorily.

"I let him do this to me," he answered with a shrug, "I don't stand up for myself."

"Then stand up for yourself!" she exclaimed, "That's not fair: you're blaming yourself for something you didn't do. You're not beating yourself up, you're not the one giving yourself all these bruises, all these cuts…"

Suddenly, a realization; a theory, dawned on her.

She stared at him quizzically, hoping she was wrong. "Or…are you?"

He stared right back, and soon it was staring contest between the two of them. But his eyes showed the truth. He faltered first.

He looked away from her and gulped, pretending to be concentrated on something else.

"Chris, please look at me."

He kept still, but tears formed in his eyes. She suddenly grabbed his wrists to make sure. Once she did, she threw them down in disgrace, almost as if she'd catch a disease from him.

"I thought you were stronger than that," she told him truthfully, disappointed.

"Sorry. I'm not as strong as you and my friends like to believe," he responded, his tone soft, but with an edge to his voice.

"Chris…take your shirt off."

"What?" he croaked, shocked.

"You heard me. Take it off."

He gave her a confused look, but he hesitantly pulled it over his head. Jenna took in how simply beautiful his body was, but then remembered her task.

"Stay still," she commanded, and she pulled herself close and her hands roamed over his back, "Welts. I knew it. That's why you didn't want me to touch your back the other day to help you off of the floor."

"So what?" Chris asked, his voice low and snappish. The tears were still in his eyes, but he fought against them.

"Why are you hiding from the fact that your father beats you?"

He stared hard at her, now quite angry. "I don't hide the fact. It's been you, and all of your friends. The whole town pretends that I don't get beaten. They don't want to get themselves involved in anything that isn't their business. And that's selfish of them. It was selfish of you. And now it feels like you're trying to blame me for having no help."

"I'm not!" Jenna declared, "It's not your fault!"

"And you know, I still don't understand," Chris continued, ignoring her, "Why the sudden turnaround? You've been nice and funny and sweet, I'll give you that. But why?"

"I've never felt like this before!" Jenna cried, slamming her hand down on the counter top, catching Chris' attention, "Yeah, ok, I thought you were awful and mean and a lowlife. But I was wrong. You're not! And…and I don't think I've ever felt the way I feel when I'm around you!"

Chris' eyes widened and he gazed at her. "Jenna…."

"What?" she snapped.

"What's happening here….between us?" he asked slowly.

She met his gaze and paused.

"I don't know," she responded truthfully, "But I know I don't want you hurt: and that's what you are right now. Just let me help you."

She reached out and stroked his arm. "It's ok, Chris. It will all work out."

"I know," he sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

Serena climbed over the chain-link fence that surrounded his house. She licked her lips, eager for his taste. She made her way towards the one-story shack and bent over so she couldn't be seen through the windows. His mom might be home, but she didn't care. He probably brought sleazy girls over all the time. She could feel her heart racing, her energy pulsing. She hadn't had fun in such a long time, and here was her chance.

She crept to his window, opened it skillfully, and slinked her way in. It was pretty much pitch black, like no one was home. She frowned. What would he be doing now anyway?

Serena made a move towards the light switch but then she saw it: a tiny flash of light, a flashlight. She turned. The closet.

She tossed her hair, put on a smirk, and strode confidently to the closet door. She flung it open.

"Teddy, let's go—"

She stopped.

He gazed up at her dreamily, a far off expression on his face. His eyes were glazed over, and there was white powder smeared on his nose, his cheeks, his shirt, his pants: everywhere.

"Hey Serena!" he greeted enthusiastically.

Her mouth had opened slightly in surprise, and her eyes showed nothing but confusion and disbelieving. She suddenly felt drained of energy and yearning. She didn't have that rush of sexiness she had felt on her way over. Yet, her heart was still pounding.

"Want to join me?" he asked, taking a minute to stand up.

"No, I don't want to join you!" she exclaimed harshly, backing away, "I'm not a druggie, Teddy Duchamp."

"Why not?" he questioned like she was an idiot.

"Because I'm not big on risking my neck like that, unlike you," she spat.

He stumbled towards her. "Just having fun, Sere. We can still have fun." He reached towards her and stroked a hand through her hair.

"Not while you're like that, no fucking way!" she protested, pushing him away.

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to his chest, despite her struggle. "Come on, Serena. Just like old times."

"Get the hell off of me!" she screamed, hitting his chest.

He hugged her close, breathing in the scent of her hair as if it too were a drug. "I miss you, Serena. I miss you so much."

Suddenly, they held each other at arms length.

She stared at him, her eyes flashing. "Shut up! You're talking nonsense!"

"No, I'm not."

"You're high!" she told him and herself, "That's why you're saying that! You don't miss me and I don't miss you, I just came over to hook up!"

"Then let's hook up!" he decided, planting his lips on hers.

It was nothing like it was in the summer, or that night in the alleyway. He used to kiss with a hunger and a passion like she had never felt before, and it would make her even more lustful. But this…this was just gross. He practically slobbered on her, his tongue suffocating her. Luckily, she managed to get him off of her.

"Don't you ever kiss me again!" she ordered, backing away towards the window.

"Serena," he whispered, his head tilted at her, confused and looking broken.

Despite how his look moved her, she could never stay with him, even for just physical things, not in this condition.

"Please, just leave me alone!" she begged, and with that, she slipped out the window.