A/N: So, here you go. I thought this one would take a while to get done, but it didn't really, not once I got going. This is really really angsty and melodramatic soap opera-ish. Therefore my gf will hate it, lol. She only likes fluff. I like angst. Oh well. She can deal. :D So yeah, quite depressing and way over-the-top melodramatic, but that's okay, right? Cause that's why you all love me.

DISCLAMIER: I still don't own SoR or any part of it. Indeed. I also do not own The Shining or the little sequence I used from it.

CLAIMER: Freddy's suicide kit (which I hope I never have any need of), his cloves (which I hope I don't have much need of, though I do enjoy them), the rainbow roses, the rats and the crackers, any and all of Zack's money, and…I think that's it for this chapter.

DEDICATION: To Carrie, once again. Cause you apparently like this one, so you are quite special. Also to Chinsky, who is (apparently) a fan, and a tres cool one at that. No, you are not just cool. You are (as the French would say) "hypercool"…and that's pronounced "ee-pear," not "hyper" like it looks. Hehehe.

WARNINGS: Prepare for severe angst (as stated) and Zack being kinda girly AND a bit of a wanker and his dad being a complete asshole. Also, a few notes: Freddy smokes cloves b/c I recently discovered that they really taste good, hence the mention of the vanilla-ish taste. Zack's rainbow roses I used cause I love roses and that's what I bought my mom once when I fucked up majorly, hehe. And the reference to The Shining is because I just saw it and you won't get this unless you've seen the movie, but if you've seen at least the flashback dream sequences with the blood pouring down the stairs and flooding the hotel, they're quite effective. They really stick with you. Because Kubrick is fucking amazing (RIP). Thanks.

Freddy climbed out of the car, trying not to shudder in disgust at everything that had just happened. One hand was already automatically reaching into his back pocket for the cigarettes…he needed one after this. Turning, he leaned in the open window, trying to avoid looking at the man as he collected his money. It always felt so humiliating, so degrading, but tonight it was ten thousand times worse. Usually Freddy could deal with it because he wasn't getting any from the person he really wanted, so he didn't have to think about how ugly what he was doing was in comparison to how truly beautiful it could be. Now, after two brief touches of Zack, he was given a terribly rude awakening…and he was thoroughly disgusted.

Freddy took a long drag of the cigarette and then breathed out smoke into the cool night air, tongue tracing briefly across his lips to taste the sweet vanilla-ish taste left there by the cigarette. Freddy had never liked smoking until he had tried cloves. Nothing special about actually smoking them, but the aftertaste they left on one's lips was too good for him to ever give them up.

He slowly became aware that a car had slowed to a halt just to his left. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself up and turned, fake smile pasted on his face as he sauntered over. Bending over, he went to lean in the window. "Hey, there…" He froze abruptly, eyes widening in surprise and horror. The person in the car was none other then Zack's father, who was wearing an almost identical expression.

Freddy's mind raced through all of the possible excuses or explanations he could give for being on the street dressed like this, smoking, at this hour of the night, wearing makeup….and came up with nothing. He stood there, staring like an idiot, completely shocked…and then Mr. Mooneyham drove off at top speed, tires screeching the whole way.

Freddy didn't even turn to watch him go, merely stood there looking completely horrified. "Oh my God…" Slowly, his eyes welled up with tears which began falling freely and unchecked. "Oh my God," he whispered, voice choked with sobs. "Oh my God…" He buried his face in his hands. "Oh my God," he kept whispering to himself, over and over. This was it. It was over. Mr. Mooneyham would tell Zack and Zack would be disgusted and never speak to him again. He felt physically ill at the thought. Without Zack, he just couldn't cope. Fingers involuntarily traced over his body, feeling the rough scars that traced his skin. He swayed on his feet…suddenly he felt as if he would really be ill. Spinning about, Freddy made a break for the alley nearby, barely making it there before he collapsed, knocking over a trash can as he did so. Barely making it to his knees, he threw up, just managing to make it into the trashcan.

Freddy rolled over onto his side, sobbing without restraint now, curling up into the fetal position as he wept. He dug his fingers into his temples, nails clawing at the skin as though he could carve himself open by sheer will. Thin rivulets of blood ran down his forehead and dripped into his eyes and to the dirty ground of the alley. He sobbed so hard that he could barely breathe, and lay there gasping for air, rocking slightly back and forth. He wanted someone there to hold him…he wanted Zack. He wanted the brunette to comfort him as he had done earlier that day, to brush his hair back and speak in a soothing voice and tell him everything would be alright. But it wasn't alright…it wasn't. And Freddy highly doubted it would ever be alright again.

Freddy woke up early the next morning, dark eyes half lidded with exhaustion and confusion as he looked around, wondering where he was. Then the previous night came back to him and he started shaking all over again, the small jittery shakes that he had suffered from for the past few years. They didn't happen often….well, oftener lately than they used to. Freddy had been suffering more panic attacks than usual. He wondered why he had woken up. Then, he realized with dawning terror that he felt something touching him. Sitting up as fast as possible, he discovered two rats which had been crawling over him, picking at an old package of crackers which he had apparently been sleeping in. At his discovery, he nearly threw up again. Instead he shoved the rats back, hollering profusely as much to scare them as out of sheer fright himself. The rats scampered and Freddy flopped backwards, groaning. His throat hurt like a bitch and his stomach wasn't feeling too hot, either. He checked his watch. 5:02. In the morning. Rahr. He forced himself to his feet. He had to get home before Zack woke up and left.

Freddy's alarm went off, loudly and obnoxiously, and Zack groaned and ducked under the covers. Don't wanna get up… When the alarm didn't stop, he sat up with a growl, shoving the covers back, and turned off the alarm. Turning over, he saw Freddy sleeping beside him, looking extremely disheveled and unhappy, even in his sleep. Zack's brow furrowed in puzzlement. As he watched, Freddy let out a little whimper and instinctively reached out and grabbed a handful of Zack's shirt. Zack noticed that Freddy's face looked a little flushed…or…wait a minute…was he wearing makeup? No…couldn't be…

Zack leaned over, gently kissing Freddy's forehead. "Freddy," he whispered. "Come on, Freddy…we've got to get up for school."

Freddy whimpered again. "No…" he said softly, curling up in a tiny ball, pressing himself closer to Zack.

"Freddy…"

"Just a few more minutes, Zack, please…"

Zack stared, then sighed. "Okay. I need to go home and get my stuff anyway."

"Okay….I'll pick you up on my way to school, then," Freddy murmured.

"Okay." Zack kissed Freddy once more. "Bye." The blonde murmured something unintelligible and went immediately back to sleep. Zack sighed as he went downstairs. Apparently Freddy didn't remember that Zack's car was broken, and therefore he would now have to walk home. Oh well. It wasn't too far a walk.

Zack shoved the front door open, tossing his bag to the floor. "Dad, I'm home!" He need hardly have said anything; his father was sitting there at the kitchen table, waiting. And he did not look at all happy.

Zack swallowed hard. "…dad," he began, but his father interrupted him.

"Why weren't you home last night, Zackary?"

"I…dad…I told you why….I had a project with Freddy, so I stayed over-"

"What were you doing at that boy's house?"

Zack was extremely confused and surprised by his father's behavior. "…I just told you, dad…we had a proj-"

"Don't you give me that bullshit," his father hissed, rising angrily to his feet and shoving the chair out of his way, nearly flipping it over. "I know what that little friend of yours is up to…I know he wasn't at his house last night."

Zack couldn't have been more surprised if his father had suddenly popped out of a cake wearing a Miss America sash. "…what?"

"Do not even try to lie to me, Zackary…I know what your friend is up to…I saw him!"

"……….dad, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you in on it?" His father demanded. "Are you part of his little scheme?"

"…………..dad…………….I'm serious…I don't know what you're trying to say."

"I'm saying that your little friend is a whore, Zackary!"

Zack felt completely frozen with shock. "….what?!"

"I saw him last night on my way home from work, Zack, walking the streets in clothing no decent human being would wear, with makeup on, and he actually had the audacity to try and get me to…to…" Mr. Mooneyham broke off, shuddering in disgust at the mere thought. Zack stood frozen, completely stunned, no idea what to say or do. "How could you, Zack? Honestly, how could you? After everything your mother and I have done for you, you do this…take up with a common whore!"

"It's not true!"

"……what?"

Zack took a deep breath, an icy fist clenched around his heart. "It's not true," he repeated. "It can't be true. Freddy wouldn't…he would never…"

"Zackary, I saw it with my own eyes."

"NO!" Zack was beginning to shake now, half out of fear and half out of fury at his father. "It's not true…I won't let it be true."

"Zackary-"

But Zack was already out the door and running, feet pounding on the pavement as he made a dash for Freddy's house. He could barely breathe and could hardly even run, stumbling every few feet as his mind raced. It can't be true…it can't be…

Shoving open the front door, he ran past Freddy's parents who were about to leave for work. "Hi, Zack," Jason began, but Zack was already halfway up the stairs. He flung open the door to Freddy's room and the blonde looked up in surprise to see Zack, disheveled and panting in the doorway.

"Zack!" He said, clearly surprised. He moved over to the brunette. "I thought I was supposed to pick you up…what's wrong?" He went to take Zack's hands but Zack pushed him off.

"Freddy," Zack said, and then didn't even know where to begin. The two boys stared at each other for a few minutes, Freddy feeling the first edge of nervousness beginning to creep into the corners of his mind, Zack not even wanting to begin this conversation. "I…"

"…Zack, what is it?" There was such a look of concern in Freddy's eyes that Zack felt as though his heart were breaking. How could he even begin to believe his dad? There's no way Freddy was…was… Zack choked, reaching out and grabbing Freddy, pulling the blonde close and embracing him tightly.

"Oh, God, Freddy, oh God…"

"Zack, what is it?" Freddy's voice was genuinely frightened now and he gently ran his fingers through long dark hair soothingly. "What's wrong?"

Zack pulled back and kissed Freddy, feeling heat behind his eyes and praying to God that he wouldn't cry. He hoped his father was wrong, but if that was so, then what kind of friend was he to even slightly believe that it could be true? Pulling back, he looked Freddy in the eye. "Freddy," he began, voice very soft. "My…my dad says…" He took a deep breath.

"…yeah?"

"…….my dad says that he saw you on the street last night," Zack said in a rush, looking away, unable to meet Freddy's eyes as he said the words. "That you were…were…."

"……whoring myself?"

Zack was so grateful to not have to say the words that it took him a moment to realize that Freddy's voice had taken on a very bitter edge. "…yes." He looked up. "But I told him it couldn't be true, it couldn't be." He looked at Freddy, but the blonde wouldn't return the look. it?"

Freddy turned, moving towards his bed. "If it can't be true, then why do you even have to ask me about it?"

"….because….Freddy………" Zack couldn't come up with a reason, didn't know what to say. If it wasn't true then he would feel terrible for suspecting such a thing at all. But Freddy had been acting so odd lately and when he had spoken those words…Zack didn't know what to think anymore. "…I don't know, Freddy."

Freddy spun to face him. "You want to know, Mooneyham? Yes. I'm a whore. I'm a fucking whore. Happy now? I bet your dad is. Bet he's real happy. Now he actually has a reason to hate me." He sank onto the bed, face in his hands. Zack stood frozen, his worst fears confirmed.

"…Freddy…" Zack moved over to the bed and stood there, not knowing what to say or do. "…..why?"

Sighing, Freddy tugged up his shirt sleeves to reveal track marks along his arms, track marks that Zack had somehow managed to miss the night before…though it wasn't surprising, really…one doesn't usually inspect their lovers arms for traces of heroin use during extreme fits of foreplay. "I'm a fucking drug addict. Is that what you wanted to hear? I bet it is. Not just heroin, either. You name it, I've most likely done it. The other night on the phone when I apparently acted so strangely? LSD, which is consequently the reason I was so sick yesterday. I'm not going to give you any gruesome details on the rest of them….I think you can safely assume that I've done every drug that one can buy in this fabulous country of ours."

"…when did this happen?" Zack couldn't get his voice to rise above a whisper, but even that sounded loud in the violent silence of the room.

"……when did it start, you mean? Eighth grade. Eighth grade it started with my meds…had to start seeing a therapist cause I was always so depressed…remember? And she gave me prozac…took half a bottle that day and od'd…had to go to the hospital and get my stomach pumped. But I liked it…I liked the high. So much that I kept on doing it, in smaller doses. Then I moved up to bigger things. Tried heroin freshman year and never looked back. Of course, I still occasionally do the odd new drug or two, try something different…hence the LSD…but it's just been growing steadily worse since eight grade. And then," he sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Then I couldn't afford anything but simple run of the mill drugs like prozac…so I started doing this…to pay for the drugs."

"…when?"

This time there was a long silent pause. "…second semester of ninth grade."

Zack felt as though he had been punched in the gut. "Ninth grade?" he managed.

"That's what I said, Zack, ninth grade." Freddy's voice was irritable. "Bet that's just what you wanted to hear, huh. I'm a fucking disgusting pathetic excuse for a human being."

"……Freddy," Zack whispered, and couldn't think of anything else to say. Freddy was the person he thought he knew everything about. He could name each of Freddy's favorite foods from each one of the food groups (including a list of his top seven favorite ice cream flavors). He knew the blonde's favorite bands in both alphabetical order and the order in which Freddy liked them. He could tell anyone Freddy's full name and birthday in a second, right down to the very hour and minute of his birth. And yet now, staring down at the blonde head of his best friend, he realized that maybe he didn't really know Freddy at all.

"……aren't you even going to say something besides my name?" came Freddy's muffled voice from beneath his fingers.

"…I don't know what to say, Freddy."

Freddy looked up. "How about that you love me and that it doesn't matter?"

There was another pause as the two boys stared at each other, Zack struggling to think of something to say and Freddy desperately hoping to hear those words pass Zack's lips. Then, finally, Zack shook his head slowly.

"I don't know, Freddy…."

Freddy felt as though his heart had just cracked straight down the middle and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. He wanted to curl up in a corner and die. "…What don't you know, Zack," he said slowly. "What else is there to know? I just spilled my guts, my entire shitty fucking life since eighth grade. What else is there to know?"

"…I just don't know, Freddy…." Zack said awkwardly. "I feel like I don't know you at all."

Freddy struggled hard to keep his face very calm, though he felt the first burning hot pinpricks of tears behind his eyes. "You're the only one who does know me, Zack…I don't want anyone to understand me if its not you. If you can't….I don't think anyone can."

"….I…"

"What else can I tell you, Zack? I don't know what it is you're feeling. All I know is that I have never loved anyone in my entire life the way that I love you. Every time one of those pervert assholes is using me, you know what I do? I just leave…I just let my mind go…and when it does…….it always comes back to you. You're the only thing that makes me happy, Zack." He gestured helplessly. "I don't know what you want me to say, Zack, what do you want me to say? I'll say anything you want me to. What can I say to you to fix all of this?"

"….I don't know that you can fix it, Freddy."

Freddy felt as though he'd been run through, a sharp searing pain straight to the center of his chest. "….Zack…" The brunette wouldn't meet his eyes. Freddy rose, steering Zack about and seating the brunette on the bed, where Zack looked extremely awkward, as though Freddy were going to pounce on him. He knelt down before Zack, taking the brunette's hands, thanking God profusely when Zack didn't pull his hands away. "Zack…don't you understand at all what I'm saying to you? I'm saying that I love you. And I'm sorry if I've fucked that up with all this, I'm so completely sorry, but I don't know what you want me to do, here. I'm saying everything I can think of and you're not giving me anything to go on." He paused, barely able to breathe. "I love you," he repeated, tear filled eyes staring at Zack. "I love you."

Zack stared, still looking uneasy. "I just don't know what to say, Freddy. I don't know what you want me to do, here….this is kind of hard for me to deal with."

"…for you to deal with!" Freddy exclaimed, aghast. He opened his mouth to continue, but Zack interrupted him.

"Are you going out again tonight?"

There was a long pause as Freddy's expression changed from tearful to bitter. "Yeah," he said, the look on his face challenging Zack to say something. "So what?"

Zack shut his eyes, fighting back the tears he knew were there, waiting to make a grand old entrance. Digging into his pockets, he pulled out crumpled up fistfuls of cash and shoved them into Freddy's hands.

"Zack!"

"Don't go out tonight, Freddy."

"Zack, I can't take this," Freddy said, looking with wide eyes at the crumpled handfuls of twenties and fives that Zack had shoved at him. Apparently the brunette had just cashed a paycheck, cause there was a lot there.

"Take it, Freddy, please, just take it. I don't want you doing this anymore."

"….Zack…"

"I'm serious, Freddy." Zack fished the last few bills out of his pockets and added them to the pile in Freddy's hands. "Take it." Leaning forward, he kissed Freddy quickly, trying with all his might to hold on to what he believed would be his last kiss ever from Freddy Jones. Then, feeling that he couldn't hold the tears back any longer, he pushed away and stood, heading for the door.

"ZACK!"

The brunette froze at the sound of complete despair written in Freddy's voice. Don't turn around, he told himself. If you look at him, you won't be able to do this. "No," he said. "No. I can't do this, Freddy. It became far too complicated much too fast."

"Complicated?" A laugh with no humor in it. "I love you," Freddy said insistently, his voice thick with tears. "…..it's that simple. Just let me love you."

…and then Zack turned around. He saw Freddy kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the majority of money that had slipped through his shaking fingers. The blonde had tears welled up in his eyes, and those eyes…Zack couldn't stand to look at those eyes. There was no sense of any kind of hope in them. Freddy looked like he was drowning and no one was coming to rescue him. And what was worse than that, he knew it. He knew that he was on his own. Zack shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head furiously. "No," he managed. "No. It's not simple at all." And turning, he bolted from the room, nearly falling down the stairs in his rush to get out of the house. Bursting out of the front door, he fell against one of the pillars on the front porch, clinging to it as though it could help him to get a grasp on the situation. Sobbing freely now, he shook his head as though it would empty his mind of thoughts, thoughts he didn't want to have. He kept seeing this clear mental image of Freddy on the street, some random man pulling over…Freddy getting in the car with him and then….and then….

He felt as though he would be sick. I will not throw up I will not throw up I will not throw up… All he could think of was that he wasn't special. Everything he had done with Freddy was something the blonde had done before, and for cash. He couldn't shake off the thought that Freddy didn't care about him.

He does, whispered a tiny insistent voice inside his head. He does too, and you know it. Zack shook his head furiously, trying to get the thought out of his head. It wouldn't go. Before he could convince himself to go back inside, he was walking off down the road. Where he was heading he didn't know. All he knew was that he had to get away from that house.

Freddy sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by piles of crumpled up bills, tears streaming down his face. It had happened, happened just as he had guessed it would. Furiously he scattered the money and crawled over to his bed. Reaching under the mattress, he felt around for a moment and pulled out a small flat case. He opened it and stared down at the collection he had amassed, all sorts of sharp objects that he used whenever shit like this happened. Not that shit like this had ever happened, not this bad. Sharpened scissors, a pocket knife or two, some razor blades…he pulled out one of the knives, the duller of the two. He wanted this to be long and painful. He was disgusting scum, that much was clear, and he wasn't going to let himself take the easy way out. Pressing the blade lightly down, he traced it across his skin, making the slightest of cuts. Then he did it to the other wrist, and then repeated it on each, digging a bit deeper each time, slowly and methodically cutting his wrists open with the dull blade.

Everything began swimming before his eyes. Just before he passed out, he realized with dawning horror that he hadn't left a note for anyone. Struggling to his desk, he grabbed a piece of paper. With one finger, dipped in his own blood, he wrote simply "mom, dad, zack….love you." And that was all he could manage before he passed out.

Zack stepped up to the front door of Freddy's house and cautiously stuck his head in. "Freddy?" There was no answer. He sighed, stepping inside and being extremely careful not to damage the flowers. Yes, flowers. About two and a half miles away from Freddy's house, Zack had realized what a stupid mistake he had made. He had immediately gone to the bank and gotten some more cash and then headed straight to the nearest florist. He figured flowers were a pretty sissy thing to give Freddy, but then again, you never know; Freddy always did have a thing for roses. He sniffed the bouquet, deeply inhaling the fresh scent that he knew the blonde loved so much. He had picked out the biggest bouquet there, all different colors of roses, a rainbow of variety. He just hoped he was right in assuming Freddy would like them.

Zack made his way up the stairs, flowers hidden behind his back. "Freddy?" Still no answer. He was beginning to worry, now. Freddy's car was in the driveway, which should mean the blonde was there, but still….

He pushed to door open and froze, flowers falling to the floor. Everything was red, covered in blood, and scenes from The Shining flashed before his eyes, the vision of the blood pouring down the stairs and flooding the room; it was that bad. And in the middle of all of it was Freddy, lying amidst the now blood stained money, both wrists slit open, blood still spilling forth.

"FREDDY!" He ran over and had the blonde in his arms in a matter of seconds, feeling for a pulse. "Freddy….Freddy, why did you do this?" The blonde made no response, but Zack found a faint, distant pulse. Freddy's eyes suddenly slid half open, eyelids fluttering against his pale skin.

"…Zack?"

"Yes…yes, its me, Freddy," Zack said, trying to hold Freddy close and grab the phone at the same time. He dialed 911 and waited, though not at all patiently. "ANSWER, DAMMIT!"

"Zack…don't call them…I don't…want to…"

Finally, a woman answered the phone. "Hello, hello? I need some help!" Zack said frantically. "My friend just tried to kill himself…well, I don't know when. I left him about an hour ago….maybe less….and I came back and he had slit his wrists."

"Okay…" the woman began. "How bad does it look?"

"There's so much blood," Zack whispered. "Blood everywhere….I don't know, I don't know how bad it is but there's…..he's…." he choked, breaking off.

"Okay, we'll send someone right over," the woman said. "Address?"

"1612 Sycamore Lane," he said. "Green house, white fence….there's a black t-bird out front…" he was stammering in his desperation to give as much information as possible, to insure that the EMTs would find the house in as little time as necessary.

"Okay…someone will be there in about five minutes."

"Thank you….thanks," Zack managed, dropping the receiver to the floor. Then he thought better of it and hung it up in case someone had to call.

"Zack…I don't want to go…" Freddy managed weakly.

"Freddy, shut up, you're not going to die on me here."

"…..but…I want to…"

Freddy's voice was so faint but so honest, and Zack stared at him for a short moment before he burst into tears, holding Freddy close and sobbing against tousled blonde hair. "You can't die," he sobbed. "You can't. I need you here…..I need you."

"…………why?"

Zack looked down and found very serious wide brown eyes staring up at him, no trace of pain or depression in them now, no desire to die, just patience as he sat and waited for an answer. And looking into those clear, weary but uncomplaining brown eyes, Zack found the answer a lot easier then he ever thought it would be.

"…I love you," he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I love you."

Something like a smile flitted across Freddy's face. "I'm so glad, Zack…I love you too…" his voice faded, his eyes slid shut, and the weight of his body sagged heavily in Zack's arms. Zack's eyes widened, horror on his face.

"No…Freddy…." He felt the pulse growing weaker. "You can't go….I love you. I love you." There was no change in Freddy's pulse and Zack pulled Freddy close, sobbing harder. It should have made everything better....but it didn't. It didn't help at allNo matter how much love he felt, it wouldn't save Freddy….and if not then what good was it?

Moments later, the EMTs entered the room to find Zack overcome with sobbing, clutching the unconscious form of his best friend close to his heart in a room painted red with blood. Crumpled in Zack's now bloody hand was the suicide note, only three words visible between Zack's shaking fingers. "zack…love you."

tbc