"Lullaby… and goodnight… go to sleep little Dougie…" Dougie sighed with irritation as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. He looked over to the side, staring sadly at the empty spot next to him, the one that for the past few weeks had been filled with Tom's presence. Now that he was used to sleeping with him, there was something unsettling about sleeping without him. He missed him being there when he heard a scary noise. Who was supposed to protect him from the monsters under the bed, now? Or the ones above it? "Hush little Dougster, don't say a word… Tom's gonna buy you a mocking bird…" He sighed again and rolled onto his side for seemingly the fifth time that night.

"I miss you already, and I just saw you earlier," Dougie said, speaking to Tom and wishing he could hear.

"No," he said suddenly. "No!" Dougie sat up and threw the blankets off of himself. "I'm not doing this to myself. I made a decision and that decision is final!" He kicked his feet over the edge of his bed and stood, walking slowly around his room. "It's for the best! He loves me, and I don't feel the same way! He would just get hurt in the end if I didn't stop it now," he told himself, nodding slowly. "I'm just doing him a favor. I'm saving him the trouble of feeling the Dougie Poynter heartbreak, because we all knew it was going there anyway!" The more he talked to himself, the faster he walked, and the worse he felt. "I don't know what I'm thinking about this for! He took it really well. I bet we'll still be good friends after this!" Although he tried, he still didn't feel any better about what he did. "I tried to have sex with him, and then I dumped him. Mid sex. God, what kind of person am I? See? I'm right! It's for the better. He wouldn't have been happy with me, anyway. I'm whiny, and bratty, and a pain in the ass! Not to mention I can be a SERIOUS bitch." Dougie huffed quietly, his arms flailing through the air.

He stopped suddenly, and looked down at the ground, a great sadness taking him over. "But he's such a good kisser… and he's so sweet. And the way he makes me feel… God, it's amazing." Dougie began pacing again, staring back at his original slow speed. "Well… I never said we couldn't do anything, really. I pretty much just said we should just be friends." The wheels were slowly turning in his mind, and he was coming to a conclusion that he really liked the sound of. "Technically we were only ever friends with benefits… so it's not like we'd be breaking some kind of being friends rule! We were only ever friends to begin with!" Dougie smiled and nodded his head at himself. "Yeah, we could just make out and stuff, with no feelings attached! Then nobody has to know." And just like that, he was out the door. He had to go talk to Tom and tell him his plan!

"Now, if only I had a faster way to get there…" he said quietly, peeking out the front window and inspecting his mom's car. "I would just be gone for an hour or two! Back before three. It's only…" he trailed off and looked at the clock on the wall. "… twelve. She won't even be awake by the time I get back. Now… where did she leave her keys?" He walked over to the couch and saw the keys sitting there on the coffee table. He quietly picked them up and looked at them in his hand for a few seconds, trying to decide if he was really going to go through with it. "To steal my mother's car, or not to steal my mother's car? That is the question…" He was silent for a few seconds more, before heading out the door. "Steal."

Tom laid in bed with his eyes half open, dried tears making his skin feel stiff, and yet his eyes were still red and swollen from a night of crying. He didn't think he'd ever cried so much in his life, and he was glad the 'tired' excuse bought him some time. By morning he would be fine, but he definitely didn't want to see anyone before that, because it would be so obvious. Normally he was pretty good at keeping his emotions hidden, and not letting them ruin his life, but it seemed like lately he had just let them get away from him. That was when the problems had started; when he started letting himself feel things. Dougie came into his life and he decided, why not? He opened up his heart and let someone else in. He showed him emotions he didn't even know he was capable of feeling, and in the end, he was just hurt for it. Dougie seemed like he wanted him to fall for him; maybe just so he would watch him be crushed.

Perhaps it was better to be crushed by Dougie than to be crushed by his town. Who would have really understood his love for another man? His mother? Probably not. His father? Definitely not. His classmates? His teachers? No, the truth was, no one would understand, and no one would accept them for who they were. Nobody would accept their love and let them stay a part of the town. So maybe Dougie really did do him a favor. What, by leading him on, drawing out his feelings, touching his boyparts, and then crushing him down? Yup. Huge favor.

The sound of something bouncing off of his bedroom window pulled Tom out of his thoughts. He was silent for a moment, unsure of whether or not he actually heard something, until he heard it again. And again. The sound kept hitting over and over, even as he got out of bed and walked to the window. His breath caught in his throat when he saw Dougie standing below his window with a handful of pebbles and an excited grin on his face. Had he forgotten already about what had happened earlier that day? Had he come by to taunt him? He opened the window and leaned his head out, staring down at Dougie with hurt in his eyes. "What?" he whispered loudly.

"Come down here!" Dougie whispered back, motioning wildly.

Tom sighed and shook his head. "No, I'm trying to sleep!"

"Please? Just for a minute?"

"No! Leave me alone!"

"Tom! Please!"

Tom growled quietly and shook his head. "I'm going back to bed."

Dougie huffed and put his hands on his hips. "If you don't come down here RIGHT NOW, I'm going to scream dirty secrets about your penis!" he whispered in a loud hiss.

"Whatever," Tom grumbled, and started to pull the window back down.

"Okay… TOOO—"

And just like that Tom was hanging back out the window, shaking his head quickly. "NO! OKAY! I'M COMING DOWN!"

Dougie gave a triumphant smile and nodded his head shortly. "Thank you."

"Give me a second." Tom closed the window and walked out of his room, not bothering to put on a shirt or a pair of pants. Dougie had seen him naked, seeing him in nothing but boxers wouldn't kill him. He walked through the house quietly, glad his window conversation hadn't woken anybody up, because if it did, he would be dead. He stopped in at the bathroom and flipped on the light, taking a quick look at himself, before walking the rest of the way through his house and out to the front, where Dougie was waiting impatiently. "What do you want?" he asked harshly.

Dougie was surprised at the way he looked when he walked up. It was almost as if he'd been crying. "I, uhh…" he started nervously, suddenly unsure of what to say. "I just wanted to talk to you about something. Can we go somewhere?"

Tom sighed and turned around, covering his face with his hands. "Dougie, I'm tired. Alright? It's been a long day, and I just need my sleep."

"Well…" Dougie started, taking a step forward and placing his hand on the back of Tom's shoulder. "I just thought we could talk…"

Tom closed his eyes and dropped his hands. He wanted to pull away from Dougie's embrace – he needed to – but something about the way he felt when Dougie touched him… he just couldn't do it. "Talk?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking back at his friend over his shoulder.

"Or… we could not talk, and just…"

"Just what?"

"Just… you know… not talk."

Tom let out a breath, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. "I can't believe you," he whispered. He could feel the tears coming on, and he tried his hardest to fight them off.

"What?" Dougie asked, taking a step closer. He let his hand trail slowly down Tom's back and leaned in, pressing his soft, baby pink lips gently to Tom's spine. Tom closed his eyes and let the feeling of being touched and kissed by Dougie again wash over him. He wanted to stand forever in that moment. Dougie's hands felt to perfect resting lightly on his sides; his lips felt too perfect pressed gently against his skin. "Don't you wanna pick up where we left off?"

Tom opened his eyes as a single tear streaked down his face. "No," he whispered. He stepped forward, pulling away entirely from Dougie's embrace. "No, you're not gonna do this to me." Another tear fell from his eye, and he was quick to wipe it away, not wanting to leave any evidence of the emotion, although his red eyes would do enough to betray him, no matter how cool he played it.

"Tom, what's wrong?" Dougie asked , walking around him to face him. "I thought you liked this," he said, reaching forward to place his hands on Tom's shoulders, but Tom pulled away, shaking his head and closing his eyes, willing the tears to stop. "Oh my god, are you crying? What did I do?" Dougie kept walking toward Tom, trying to touch him; to feel close to him, but Tom wouldn't have it. He just kept sidestepping him. He wasn't going to be hurt again, and he wasn't going to be taken advantage of.

"You don't get it…" he whispered, tears now flowing steadily down his bright red cheeks. "You just don't get it…"

"Don't get what?" Dougie asked desperately. "Tom, talk to me!"

"I LOVE YOU!" he screamed, walking toward Dougie suddenly and grabbing him by the shoulders. He stared him in the eyes, begging for any sign of reciprocated love to come out, but he saw nothing. He pulled Dougie in close and pressed his lips hard against his, bringing his hand up to cup his cheek and sobbing into the kiss. Dougie kissed him back strongly, tears of his own fighting their way out of his eyes and down his cheeks. Tom broke the kiss, keeping his eyes closed for a few seconds and relishing in the feelings he got, before looking back down at the quivering boy in his arms. "You can't tell me you don't feel anything when I kiss you…"

"Tom… we're just meant to be friends…"

Tom began to shake his head, more tears falling. "No, you can't say that… it's not true…"

"To—"

"IT AIN'T TRUE!" Dougie flinched back and shrunk into himself. He had never felt so low as he did at that moment. "I KNOW IT! I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL! YOU'RE JUST SCARED! I KNOW YOU LOVE ME! I KNOW YOU… I KNOW… I…" His words were broken up with heavy sobs. "Please… why can't you just love me…?"

"Tom… we're just meant to be friends…" Dougie repeated, doing his best to keep from looking at the other boy.

"Oh, we're just meant to be friends, huh?"

"To—"

"FINE!" Dougie took a step back, half afraid Tom was going to hit him. "FINE! THEN GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT! GO ON! If you don't want me… FINE! I never needed anybody, and I don't need someone like YOU!"

"Tom, please!"

"GO!" He screamed, pointing toward the car. "GET OUT OF MY LIFE, AND DON'T YOU EVER TRY TO COME BACK!"

Dougie stared at him for a second longer. This wasn't the Tom Fletcher that he knew. This was some hurt, crying mess; one that he created. Without saying another word, he ran back to the car and sped away. He couldn't bear to look at the other boy like that any longer. This is all my fault… I've lost the only friend I have… all because I'm stupid! I just HAD to fuck around with him! Dougie sniffled rather loudly and wiped the tears away with his arm. "I never meant to hurt you…"

The next few weeks at school were like torture for the young Californian. No one would talk to him because of what he did to Dean. The teachers ignored him because he had a major attitude problem. Tom wouldn't talk to him because he crushed his spirit. Ms. Pamela, the school nurse, was gone on vacation for the next month, so there went that plan. In short, there was nothing left for him in Arkansas. He used to steal glances at Tom, but Tom never looked back, so after a while he just stopped. He stopped doing everything; his homework, his schoolwork. He would go to school strictly so he wouldn't get in trouble, but never accomplished anything while there. He was beginning to wonder why he even went to school. Luckily for him, Dean wasn't back to school yet, so he was safe for a little bit longer.

Although, he was starting to feel that maybe Dean coming back to school and killing him wouldn't be such a bad idea. It would make Dean feel better, the teachers wouldn't have to try with him anymore, his classmates wouldn't have to waste all their energy ignoring him, his mother and Chris could have the house to themselves… Hell, Tom would probably even feel better. "What am I waiting for?" he asked himself as he stared down at the blank page in his spiral notebook. "Maybe I should just kill myself…" He stared at his paper and began to sketch. It was nothing big, nothing fancy. Just a stick figure hanging from a tree with little 'x's for eyes.

"Class! Attention, class!" Dougie didn't peel his eyes from the paper. What was the point? "Class, I'd like you all to welcome back your classmate, Dean!" Dougie looked up just in time to see Dean look over at him, and boy, did he look angry.

"Shit…"

"What was that, Mr. Poynter?" the teacher asked, cocking her eyebrow.

"Uhh… umm.. sh…Sure did miss you, Dean!" he thought quickly, hoping to avoid a talking to with the Principal.

"Aww, now isn't that nice?"

"Yeah, real nice," Dean said, glaring heavily at Dougie.

Dougie sighed and hit his head on the desk. "Shit."

Dougie walked down the hall slowly, not really caring to get to the cafeteria in time for lunch. What was the point? He had no one to eat with and no one to talk to. After seeing Dean, he wasn't too hungry, anyway. Tom walked by him, not bothering to slow down or even look at him as he passed. He just kept walking. "Tom!" Dougie called, but it did no good. "Tom, please!"

"Aww, somthing wrong, Dougie?" Dougie stopped walking but didn't turn around. He didn't need to. He knew who was standing behind him. "Tom doesn't wanna talk to you 'cause you're a little faggot?"

"Please don't do this," Dougie said quietly. "I'm not going to fight you."

"Aww, what's wrong? You're scared I'm gonna rip your dress?" Dean taunted, walking up behind Dougie and pushing him.

Dougie sighed and turned around. "I'm not going to fight you," he said again calmly.

"Yeah? Well then you're about to get your ass kicked," Dean said slowly, before balling his fist and punching Dougie hard in the stomach. Dougie groaned and bent in half, wrapping his arm around his middle. "Faggot," Dean continued. "I'm gonna get you for what you did to me at that party."

"I'm not going to fight you," Dougie said, his voice airy and weak.

Dean grabbed a handful of Dougie's hair and pulled him back up so he could look him in the face. "You're a coward," he mocked, before spitting in his face and punching him again in the stomach. Dougie groaned again, this time louder, but Dean didn't allow him to bend over. He kept his firm grip on Dougie's hair. "You're not gonna be bending over anymore, you stupid queer!" And again, he punched Dougie in the same spot.

"I'm not… going to fight… you…"

"Good! Makes my job easy!" Dean balled his fist and pulled back his arm again, but before he could punch he was pulled back and slammed against a locker.

"You wanna say that again?" Tom asked, wrapping his hand around Dean's throat and beginning to squeeze.

"Man, what the hell are you defending this stupid faggot for? I'm doing you a favor!"

Tom laughed and nodded his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right…" he started, loosening his grip on Dean's throat.

"Yeah, who the hell does he think he is?"

Tom laughed again and shrugged his shoulders. "A FAGGOT?" Tom screamed, wrapping his hand around Dean's neck again and shoving him head first back against the locker.

"NO! NO! I didn't say that!" Dean said quickly.

"That's right! And you're never gonna say it ever again, are you?!" Tom yelled, tightening his grip around Dean's neck.

"NO! NO! I SWEAR!"

"GOOD," Tom screamed with one final squeeze of his classmate's neck, before letting go and turning his back. Dean leaned against the locker, holding his neck and breathing heavily. "Oh, one more thing…" Tom started, turning around again.

"What?"

Dean looked up just in time to see Tom's fist flying at his face. Tom hit him hard; harder than he'd probably ever been hit in his life. He watched as the blood began to spill from Dean's nose and the boy fell to the ground, holding in one hand his bleeding nose, and in the other the back of his head where it smashed against the locker. "Fuck you."

Dougie stared in shock, unable to believe that Tom Fletcher, the gentleman had just done that. "Tom…" he stared as Tom began to walk toward him. "Thank you," he said quietly. He reached out to touch him, but his hand was smacked away, and instead, Tom balled his fist and punched Dougie hard in the stomach. Dougie fell to the ground, unable to breathe. Tom's punch was like getting hit with a wrecking ball. He curled into the fetal position held his stomach, trying his best to breathe.

"I didn't do that for you," Tom spat, his voice low and hoarse.

"Tom," Dougie cried, pulling himself from the floor and grabbing onto his wrist. "Please…" But Tom just ripped his hand from Dougie's grasp and kept walking, unwilling to let Dougie see how much that tore him up inside. "TOM!" Dougie screamed after him, heavy sobs taking over his body. But still, the other boy showed no signs of slowing. It seemed to Dougie that there was no hope left for him and Tom, and there was no point for him to stay in Arkansas. There was nothing left for him.