A/N: Wow, thanks for the great reviews! You guys are seriously the best! Hugs and cookies for everyone! (only one cookie each though - I'm kinda running out of them!) Erm - I'll shut up now - please read and review!

Please note: This chapter contains self-harm and some pretty bad language, hence the rating. Oh, and a special note to Miraged - your review was amazing. It really brightened up my day. Thank you so much! And audi katia - your reviews always cheer me up. Thank you SO MUCH for putting me on your favourite authors list. I'm honoured!

Disclaimer: They're not mine yet. But one day, one day they will be mine. Oh yes, they will. . .well, Freddy will at least. . .hehehe. . .

TO UNDERSTAND THIS CHAPTER FULLY, YOU REALLY WILL HAVE TO READ CHAPTER THREE OF YOU'D BETTER GET ME TO SCHOOL ON TIME. Or you could just read the whole thing. Hint, hint.

Only Me: chapter two

* * Previously * *

"It looks like you'll need stitches," Summer said softly, gently touching the cuts Freddy had been making when she had interrupted him.

"It'll be alright," Freddy replied. Summer took his head in her hands so that he couldn't look away.

"Okay," she said, gently but firmly. "Talk."

* * * *

"What do you want me to say?" Freddy asked.

"I just want you to talk to me." Summer let go of his head and sat cross-legged on the carpet. Freddy gave her a look.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm going to wait all night if I have to," Summer informed him. "But one way or another, you are going to talk to me."

"But I don't know what to say," he confessed, staring at the floor.

"Why don't you start from the beginning? Why did you start in the first place?" Freddy didn't reply. "No? You're not saying anything? Okay - how long have you been doing this -"

"Lisa," he blurted out suddenly, looking up from the carpet. Summer fell silent, waiting for him to elaborate. "I started when she. . .she. . .because. . ."

"But - that was over three years ago," Summer said, sounding confused. Freddy nodded, and Summer's eyes widened. "No. . .you haven't. . ."

"I have."

"You've been doing this to yourself for over three years? Ever since Lisa died?" Freddy winced. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that so bluntly."

"No, it's okay. Saying it won't change what happened. Doesn't bring her back, does it?"

"No," Summer replied sadly, shaking her head. "I guess it doesn't."

"I loved her so much, you know," he said, his dark eyes beginning to shine with tears again. "I still do. I miss her so much. Damn it!" He snapped, as the tears began to fall. He scrubbed at his face with his sleeve again.

"You keep doing that, you won't have any sleeve left," Summer quipped. Freddy actually laughed a little. "Freddy, you didn't have to keep this to yourself. You should have talked to us. We would have understood."

"No, you wouldn't have," he replied flatly. "No one would. Who else would deliberately cut themselves? I know I'm a freak."

"No you're not!" Summer protested loudly, making Freddy jump and stare at her. He still had tear tracks on his face. She took his hand. "Freddy. You're not. Never have been, never will be."

"But -"

"But nothing." Freddy allowed the tiniest of smiles to creep onto his face.

"Sorry," he apologized. Summer smiled back at him.

"You haven't got anything to be sorry for, you know," she said. "All you've done is find a way to cope with feelings you find a lot to bear. It might not be the best way, but hey, you are talking about, aren't you? And that's something." Freddy eyed her suspiciously.

"Since when did you turn into a psychiatrist?" He asked. Summer laughed, and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"Oh, didn't you know?" She said in a posh accent. "I've been a psychiatrist ever since we were six and you threw water bombs at me through my living room window. It's helped me get over the trauma, you see."

"I did that? I don't remember doing that!" Freddy said, looking incredibly confused. Summer laughed again.

"You did. Believe me, you did!" Freddy grinned, properly this time. "Good to see you smile."

"Thanks," he said. His eyes flickered automatically up to the clock. He did a double-take. "Shit!" He swore suddenly.

"What is it?" Summer asked, her eyes wide. Despite Freddy's 'bad-boy' image, he actually didn't swear that often.

"It's nearly five! I'm late for band practice!"

"Woah, calm down. It's not that big a deal."

"Summer, do you remember what Dewey said to me last week when I was late?"

* * * * *

"Seriously, I don't know where he is!" Zack protested. Dewey glared at him, before turning to the rest of the band.

"Okay, do any of you know where our errant drummer is?"

"No."

"No, sorry."

"Nope."

"Don't know where he is."

"Was he in school today -" Dewey was interrupted by a loud CRASH! as the door was flung wide open. Freddy stood in the doorway, looking unusually meek.

"Sorry!" He said before Dewey could start yelling at him.

"You got a reason for being late?"

"Um. . .no." Dewey rolled his eyes.

"Fine, okay, I'll let you off this time, but if it happens again, then I may just have to put Band Suspension into practice." Band Suspension was something he had made up the week before, much to the horror of the rest of the band. If someone was late too many times in a row, they'd be given the boot - only for a week or so.

"If you suspend me, then never mind me being late, you won't have a drummer at all for a week," Freddy pointed out. Dewey scowled at him.

"Don't push your luck!" Freddy rolled his eyes but decided to drop the subject. Dewey turned back to the others. "Okay, so. . ."

* * * * *

"Come on Freddy, I'm sure he'll understand," Summer said as Freddy reached for his drumsticks where they'd been discarded on the floor underneath the coffee table. "I mean, once you tell him why -" Freddy's head shot up and met the top of the coffee table with a loud whack! Muttering a string of colourful curses, he stood straight.

"What do you mean, 'tell him'? Tell him what?"

"Well - you know. . ." Summer's eyes flickered towards Freddy's arm. The sleeve of his jumper was stained with blood.

"Oh - oh, no way. No way! No, I am NOT telling them!"

"Why not?" She asked. "You told me."

"No, correction," Freddy snapped. "You walked in on me!"

"But you didn't have to talk to me afterwards," Summer cleverly pointed out. "You could have just thrown me out, but you didn't."

"You didn't give me a choice," Freddy hissed at her.

"Freddy, that is not fair, and you bloody well know it!" Freddy looked slightly shocked at Summer's choice of words - well, it was colourful language for her.

"Look, thanks a lot for your concern, but I have to get to practice," he snapped eventually, pushing past her to walk out of the living room.

"Freddy?" She called in an annoying sing-song tone. "How are you going to get to practice if your parents aren't here to drive you?" He stopped in the doorway.

"Okay," he admitted. "Okay, I didn't think that far ahead." He turned back, and walked back into the living room.

"Obviously," Summer said dryly. Freddy went to push her slightly, but as he reached out, his jumper snagged against the cuts on his arm. He hissed in pain, and drew his arm back, cradling it. "Are you okay?" She asked. He looked up to meet her gaze. "I guess not then. Come on," she said, taking Freddy by his elbow.

"What? Where are we going?" He asked, as Summer led him out of the house.

"My place," she told him. "Try and do something about those cuts."

"Summer," he protested, as she half dragged him over to her front porch. "Summer, come on, you don't have to do this." Summer stopped.

"I know," she said softly, turning to face him. "I want to." Freddy immediately shut up at that. Summer opened the front door. "Come on, come in." He nervously stepped inside, and followed Summer through the kitchen.

"You got this place decorated then, I see," he commented, leaning against the table, and looking at the brand new orange and green walls.

"Yep!" Summer replied as she rummaged in a drawer, looking for something. "My mom's having some kind of mid-life crisis - she's decorating the whole house. She's even got plans for my room."

"Oh yeah?"

"Pink."

"Gross," Freddy replied, shuddering. Summer laughed.

"That's precisely what I said. Found it!" She added.

"Found what?" Summer turned to face Freddy, and waved a small, green box. "A first aid kit?"

"Yes, a first aid kit, now shut up and sit down." He sat. Summer ran some tissue under the tap, and then went over and sat next to Freddy. "Roll your sleeve up." He pushed his sleeve up above his elbow, and then held his arm out. Summer held the wet tissue against the fresh cuts.

"Ow! That stings!"

"Sorry. Can you hold that there?" Freddy took the tissue, leaving to start digging through the first aid box. "Where are they?" She muttered angrily.

"Where are what?" Freddy asked, slightly curious.

"Bandages."

"Don't go over the top Summer."

"You're lucky I'm not forcing you to go to the hospital and get stitches!" Summer snapped, slamming the lid of the box shut. "Take the tissue away," she instructed, much more gently. "Word of warning. I'm not a medical genius. These bandages will probably come loose soon."

"That's okay. I'm no medical genius, as you can tell," Freddy replied. Summer stopped unravelling the bandages and put her hand on Freddy's arm.

"Hey. It's okay, you know." Freddy nodded. Summer went back to unravelling the roll of bandages. "So. . .I mean, how did you start - you know?"

"I already told you."

"Not why - how." Freddy sighed heavily.

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah. If you want to tell me, that is."

"I do want to tell you."

"Go on then."

"Okay." He let out a shaky breath. "Well. . ."

* * Just over three years ago. . . * *

"Freddy, PLEASE!" His mother begged. "Please - please don't clam up. It's not your fault!"

"I killed her!" He wailed, curled up on his bed. "It was my arms she fell out of! I was meant to be holding her up, looking after her - it's my fault she's dead!"

"Freddy, this is hard on all of us!" His father said, appearing in the doorway. "But we're worried about you - it's been three weeks now, and you've hardly left your room!"

"Leave me alone!" Freddy yelled. "Leave me the hell alone!"

"Freddy, I know you're upset, but that doesn't give you the right to speak to me like that!"

"GET OUT!" He screamed. "Get out, get out! GET OUT!" He grabbed the nearest thing he could, which just so happened to be a picture of him and Lisa, and threw it, with all his might, at the door frame. The door slammed shut. Freddy slid off the bed into a heap on the floor, and started crying even harder, great, hard sobs which made his whole body shake. "Lisa," he gasped in between sobs. "I'm sorry!"

Fifteen minutes passed. The door opened, and someone knelt in front of Freddy. He looked up to see his mother.

"Mommy," he sobbed. "I'm sorry about the picture."

"It's okay sweetie," she said gently. "Have you calmed down yet?" He sniffed and nodded. "Good. Will you come downstairs for dinner?"

"Okay."

"It'll be ready in five minutes, okay?"

"Yeah. Do you - do you want me to clean up the glass?"

"Leave it. I'll do it later. You might hurt yourself." Freddy nodded. "Okay. See you in five sweetheart." She stood and left the room. Freddy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and stood up, rather shakily. He decided that, with five minutes to go until dinner, he may as well clear up the mess anyway. He grabbed the bin from beside his bookcase and started carefully picking up bits of glass, throwing them into the bin. He worked steadily for a few minutes, until he lost his balance while leaning over to pick a piece of glass up, and fell. A particularly sharp shard of glass dug itself into the palm of his hand. Freddy dropped the bin in shock. He expected it to hurt - but it didn't. Instead, he could feel a little bit of his misery slowly fading away as the blood appeared. And for a while, he felt okay. Safe.

Alive.

* * * * *

"Oh Freddy," Summer said. "That's so sad. I had no idea - I'm so sorry."

"Isn't your fault," he said flatly, staring at the patterned floor tiles. He suddenly felt incredibly tired and weak. It must have shown, for the next thing he knew, Summer was knelt at his side.

"Freddy?" Her voice sounded like it was far away. "Freddy, are you okay? You've gone really pale."

"I'm okay," he replied, leaning his head on his hand. "I'm just a little dizzy, that's all."

"I'll get you some water." Freddy couldn't be bothered to argue. Summer got up, and quickly filled a glass with cold water. Then, she was back at Freddy's side. "Drink this," she ordered. "You need it." Freddy took the glass and took a long gulp. "Any better?"

"Yeah - a bit."

"You're not as pale as you were," Summer commented, sitting back in her chair.

"Yeah - I just felt really strange - you know, you're the only person who knows?"

"About your cutting?"

"Yeah." Summer didn't know what to say. Instead, she just finished unravelling the bandages, then opened up the first aid box again, and took out a pair of scissors, to cut the bandage to size. Freddy looked away. Summer looked from him, to the scissors and back to him again. Then she clocked why he was being funny.

"Oh - oh, Freddy, I'm sorry!" The scissors she was holding were exactly like the ones Freddy had been using earlier - when he was cutting himself. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," Freddy said with a small smile. "I'm not going to be able to avoid them forever, am I?"

"No, I guess not." Summer cut a strip off of the length of material then started carefully winding it round Freddy's arm. "Sorry - I don't actually know what I'm doing."

"You said that earlier."

"Just reminding you. There. Done." Freddy studied Summer's work.

"Looks okay to me." Summer smiled and put everything back into the box, then carried it over to the drawer, and shut it away. While she was doing this, Freddy glanced innocently at the clock. To his complete surprise, it was nearly twenty to six. "Yep. Definitely late." Summer looked up at the clock and whistled.

"Are you going to bother going to practice then?" Freddy shook his head.

"No point really, is there? Dewey's gonna kill me though."

"So you're definitely not going to tell the others then?" Summer asked, opening the fridge and taking out two cokes. Freddy sighed.

"I don't know Summer. I really don't. I mean, I know I should, 'cos they're my friends and everything, but you can never - oh thanks," he added as Summer put a can of coke in front of him. "I mean, you can never really predict what their reaction is gonna be."

"You don't have to tell them right away," Summer pointed out, pulling the ring on her coke. "You can give it a while. Just wait until the right moment -"

"When is the right moment to tell your friends you have an unhealthy appetite for slicing your own arms up?" Freddy interrupted.

" - And don't put it like that."

"Sorry."

"And stop apologizing!"

"Sorry." The two of them suddenly started laughing. And then silence came over them. For at least five minutes, nothing was said by either of them. All that could be heard was the loud tick, tick of the kitchen clock and the roar of an engine as a car went past.

"I should probably go," Freddy said eventually, putting his coke down.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for a bit longer? You can stay for dinner if you like."

"Summer," Freddy asked, trying to sound serious, but with a twinkle in his eyes. "Are you trying to keep an eye on me?"

"Yeah," Summer admitted, blushing slightly. "You're not mad, are you?"

"No. Actually, I think it's nice that someone cares."

"How sweet. Are you staying then?"

"No - I really should go home. But thanks for the offer anyway."

"That's okay." Summer accompanied Freddy to the front door. When he reached the porch, he stopped and turned around.

"Summer - thanks for everything. It means a lot to me."

"Anytime Freddy. If you ever want to talk - you know where I am." Freddy smiled at her, then hopped over the hedge to his house. Summer watched him as he went inside, then, with a heavy sigh, closed the door.

- - - - - -

TBC

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A/N: Probably the longest chapter I've ever written. Please leave a review. Next chapter should be up within 2 or 3 days.