A/N: Yeah, another fic that isn't 'Less Than Zero' (formerly 'Less Than Known'), I know. I am gonna be continuing that one, obviously, I just have felt the need to write down this other stuff that I've been meaning to for a while. And as a slight shock, this isn't slash.

Anyway, this takes place before 'Take On Me', and not everyone knows that Ellie's been having cutting problems like is implied in 'Take On Me'.

Let's Play Pretend

By Cradlerobber Speedo-kun

The doorbell of the Nash house rang, breaking the dull silence that had filled it since Ellie had returned home from her co-op and found her mother already passed out from a day's drinking. Ellie looked up, slightly startled. No one ever came over, not even her friends. It wasn't something she disliked, because although it would've been nice if they cared enough to come over, she didn't want anyone to know the deal was with her mother.

She set down her pencil, and, after closing the door to her mother's room, she went downstairs. She approached the front door, and peeked out the curtained window so she could at least get a vague idea of who it was. It was Marco, and she smiled slightly. He wouldn't insist on coming inside as Ashley may've (not like Ashley would actually visit --- she was still wallowing in self-pity over the whole Craig fiasco). She opened the door, but made it clear by her body language that if they were going to spend any time together, for whatever reason, it was not going to take place in her house.

Marco didn't need to be told this. He could tell. At least that was one thing he didn't have to feel awkward about at the moment. He stood there, looking a little out-there, his hands in his pockets and a slightly worried look on his face, and for a moment just said nothing. But he finally stirred his vocal chords, "Ellie... we need to talk." He stepped back a little, knowing that they would be going elsewhere. Ellie threw a glance back into the interior of her house before stepping outside, shutting the door behind her. She turned to face Marco, "Alright."

At first no words passed as they walked. In fact, nothing was said until they got to the park. They sat away from the paths, on the slightly cold ground underneath one of the trees that was just beginning to grow leaves. The sun hung lazily in the sky, although it was getting on towards the horizon. And they sat down, and it seemed as if Degrassi didn't exist, and that they were a million miles from it all.

Marco broke what had seemed like would be an eternal silence, "Ellie, I found this. It... you left it behind in class today..." (1) He awkwardly handed her a slightly crumpled piece of paper, one with three holes in it that indicated it was meant to be in a binder. But the space between the holes and the edge of the paper was torn, as if it had been ripped out of wherever it was supposed to be. Ellie took it from him wordlessly, and after a cursory glance over it, folded it in half, avoiding Marco's eyes as she slipped it into her pocket. "Ellie," He sighed slightly before continuing, "Ellie, what does it mean? You're trying not to hurt yourself? What does that mean Ellie? Ellie, what's wrong? I don't understand any of what you said on that paper, but it makes me worry anyway. Hurting yourself? How? Why? Ellie, please look at me!"

She had been looking away, trying to ignore what he was saying and hoping she would just disappear and he would forget that paper. It was from her journal, the one Ms. Sauve had been making her write in an attempt to make her stop her self-mutilation. Self-mutilation. The words themselves made her cringe, even if they were the words for it. Self-mutilation. Self- mutilation. She had been cutting herself. Gouging up her arms. And it wasn't something you talked about, not even to your best friend who was now confronting you about it and no doubt worried sick about you.

"Please Ellie, stop looking away..." Marco's weak-sounding voice cut through her haze of thoughts. And although she didn't want to, she slowly rolled up her sleeves, exposing one cut or scar after another. Even in the dimming light of dusk, they were as clear as if she were under the lights of a stage. Marco took her arm in his hand, running his fingers over the many cuts, and Ellie realized he was crying.

"Ellie, why didn't you ever say anything?"

"It's not exactly something you tell people about." She said, wanting to pull her arm back and hide it under the cloth of her long sleeves. But she couldn't. And she didn't know why.

"Why?" He finally asked in a hoarse whisper, looking up from her marked arm. She looked up at him, looking him in the eye for the first time since he had first come to her house that afternoon, "It was the only pain I could control." (2) Marco was crying even more now, "What do you mean? Ellie, you would've talked to me, or to Ashley, we could've helped you!"

"How?! You were too busy mooning over Dylan, and Ashley was too busy having her picture-perfect relationship with Craig! You were both busy with your own lives, and you didn't need me screwing that up."

"Ellie, if anything had ever happened to you, that would've screwed up my life! But something obviously has happened to you, and I wasn't a good enough friend to be there to prevent that..."

"Marco..." Tears stung the back of Ellie's eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It was bad enough that he now knew about her cutting, she didn't need him to see her cry, even if they were friends. "Ellie, what happened? Why, why? What made you do this? Why did you need to control the pain?" Ellie had yanked her arms back when she had been yelling, but now Marco had taken them back. "Because, Marco, because..." But she couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and she too began to cry. Marco hugged her, and she buried her face in his shoulder, letting herself sob.

She was still crying when she spoke again, "Everything just seemed to collapse. My father left for some country no one would've ever heard of it Canada didn't feel like hopping on the American war-machine, and my mother started drinking. Ashley was busy with Craig, and then you met Dylan. I felt like I was alone... and everything just seemed to pile on everything else, and the emotional pain wouldn't stop. And it was the only thing I could control...(3) everything else was out of my hands, and I couldn't do anything about it..."

Marco leaned his head against hers slightly, "I want you to stop. It scares me that you've been doing this, I don't wanna lose you, El. You're like this twin I never had, and I don't know what I'd do if you were gone." Ellie pulled out of the embrace, and looked at Marco. His eyes were red- rimmed, and her mascara was smudged. "I'm trying, Marco. I really am." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it seemed to block out any other noise there was.

Marco stood up and held out a hand for her, "Let's not play pretend any more..."

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(1) This was influenced by the fanfic 'A Cry for Help' by Misery Chick722.

(2) Lifted directly from the episode 'Take On Me' when Ellie's talking to Sean about why she cuts.

(3) I hope you can figure out that now she's switched from talking about the emotional pain to talking about the cutting. I have faith in my readers' abilities to discern this, but I thought I should probably put a note about it anyway.