Warning: This fic contains, Rape, not so much sexual content. Violence, language and may not be suitable for ages 13 and under. Rated R. You've been warned. Anyhow, enjoy reading this is a dark fic so there won't be much to laugh about. But there will be some fight scenes. Love always Nellie.

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Why does the phone continue to ring? Who is this person, and why? Why do I only get calls from them? Am I going crazy again? No! I've been cure of that, my doctor told me so. So then what? What is it that's causing these headaches? Who is this person that continues to ask for my help- and do they truly need it, or just... Me?

Chapter One

Rocky held a hand to his forehead. His palmed heated instantly at the touch. Why was he constantly having these bad headaches? He hadn't been under any stress- at least, not lately that he can recall. Maybe he just needs to sit down for a while, but then again he can't. He has a new roommate coming to stay with him in the dorm at the college.

Rocky had been so confident about moving out of the house and living on his own it made his mother cry. He felt guilty and made up for it by saying he would call every other day so that she wouldn't miss him too much. Agreeing, Jessica kissed her son goodbye and watched him walk out the front door, get in his car, and drive away.

Rocky has been staying at the college dorms for over two months now, and freshman life wasn't as bad as his friends thought it would be. In fact, he liked it better than being a Sophomore at High School. More responsibility, and less agitation. No mother over his back all the time, nothing. He could be his own man-... well, maybe not completely. But he pushed those thoughts away. He had to locate some pain killers and quick, this headache seemed skull splitting.

Maybe the best thing to do right now is lay down. Going over to his bed, Rocky dropped his weight down on it, arm now over his forehead instead of his hand, and he moaned in pain. "Whyyyy is this happening to meeeee?" He wondered out loud. Closing his eyes, Rocky waited for sleep to take over him, when he heard the soft sound of foot steps moving through the room. Wow, he's early. Thought the ninja. Though his eyes remained closed. He didn't have the strength to greet anyone right now.

But there was no other sound after the foot steps. Just silence and Rocky's low breathing. Opening his eyes, he skimmed them over the dorm room. He, of course, is alone. So who-...?

Just then the door pushed open and someone walked in. A boy, he had two bags in hand and one over his shoulder, hanging by a strap. From the crack of his eyes, Rocky could see this boy has rich brown, shaggy hair, done in what looked like it used to be curls but now it just slopped on his head in a mess of brown tangles. He was tallish and lean. Maybe 5'10" could by 11", and he was wearing a jacket like he had come from out of state and wasn't expecting it to never be cold in L.A.

"Hhhhuuuuaaaaaa," he yawned loudly, sniffing, he then walked over to the closet. The door was already open so, kicking it with his foot to give himself more leeway his roomy dropped his bags to the floor. Turning around, he dropped himself down on the first bed he saw and sighed letting relaxation take his body over.

"Not much for 'hello', are you?" Rocky says, with a smirk.

Startled, the brunette nearly fell from the bed, but he caught his self before that happened. "Oh hey," he chuckled kindly. "I didn't see you there."

"I'm easy to miss," he joked.

"Hi, I'm Ivan." Ivan leaned across the bed, reaching out a hand for the ninja to take.

Rocky sat up, feeling that his headache was lifting as he did so. Guess he didn't need the medicine after all. Reaching out to the boy, he shook his hand and smiled. "Nice to meet you, Ivan. I'm Sam, but all my friends call me Rocky."

"Rocky huh?" The boy looked him over, "Any reason for that, or is it a childhood name?"

Rocky laughed to that and shook his head. "No, it's a ninja name. My Grandpa gave it to me. So yeah, I guess you can say its a childhood name."

"Cool," he looks around the room.

It's dark because the blinds and curtains are done over, and there are no lamps turned on, but from what Ivan can make out the room is: well sized, good walking space, there isn't much on the walls but he plans to change that with a few of his posters left in his car.

"Well, Rocky do you know any good eating places around here? I haven't eaten since I got off the plane." He watched as the ashy blond boy, opened the curtains and things. "And I'm dying for a little comfort food."

"Yeah, there's a little place just out of campus that has pretty good food." He points out of the window. "You can almost see it from here, look."

Ivan joined Rocky at the window. Looking across the campus he nods at the location. Rocky glanced at the boy in light and saw that with his dark features he had very pale skin, which made his darkness look even darker. But his eyes, Ivan's eyes were so icy blue it was disturbing. Something about that chilled him a little, so he looked away.

"I don't mean to sound dorky but-..." He turned a puppy face in Rocky's direction and the ninja laughed.

"Alright, since you look so sad."

"And you're the only person I know here."

"Right, I'll go with you. Nothing sucks more than eating alone." Walking away from the window, Rocky reached for his car keys from the hook beside the door. "Come on."

"Okay, let me just go to the bathroom, I'll be right out."

"Okay." Rocky walked out into the hall way, and stood by the door to wait for the new guy. He seemed nice enough, maybe having a roommate wouldn't be so bad after all. Rocky looked down the hall, he though he saw someone there, in the distance. Ha, why am I acting so paranoid lately. It must be the headaches. Being in that much pain is making me feel vulnerable. Shaking his head a bit, he clears some cobwebs. I've gotta get it together.

"I'm ready."

Rocky pats the boys shoulder, and the two walk to the stairwell.

The drive was nice they talked about this and that about themselves and Rocky found out that Ivan studied in martial arts as well. He only did it for a year when he was sixteen but he had always wanted to continue. Rocky also found out that, Ivan was actually named Robbie, his parents told him that Ivan meant something in authority but Robbie was too friendly. So Rocky agreed that he would call him, Robbie.

Rocky told Robbie about his friends and his life and some of the adventured he had been on as a kid and he loved hearing about it. No one he had ever met had those kinds of adventures in life, so hearing about them was cool.

Uncommonly, the two of them shared a love for reading, Robbie said he could read anything with a good love plot, but Rocky said he preferred mysteries and is a Sherlock Holmes fan. He also loves LOVES, Shakespeare. Where Robbie would rather write his own short stories. Rocky suggested he join the paper with him, being a journalist was the best thing that had ever happened to him, it really gave him an inside look at what real life working at a paper would be like. And Robbie agreed it was a good idea.

As they ate, some of Rocky's friends and few people he didn't really know sat down with them and talked. Robbie was already making eyes with a girl who introduced herself as, Bridgette and she gave him her number.

The day was going so great, everyone was happy and nice. Rocky new that this was the start of better things, and having Robbie as a friend would be cool. The two hung out a bit longer, then parted with the group. Robbie offered to drive them back to the dorms and when the two got back they pretty much did their own things. Rocky finished a paper on the computer and Robbie took a shower. He felt he needed one.

"Rrr." Rocky grunts in pain. His hand went up to his head again. "Not again." Sliding the drawer at the computer desk open, he pulled out a bottle of Tylenol and popped two into his mouth, then grabbed a half gone bottle of orange juice from this morning, and drank it down. "Come on, work work work." He coaxed it. This wasn't happening. Looking up, he reached to turn off the screen when he noticed his messages flashing.

Clicking on the little mailbox with a rooster resting on top of it, the box popped up, opening the message and it read: Notice, Samuel Douglas, you are opted to join our Teens Talking to Teens, help hotline in the sitting room after classes. All that is required is your answer, the deadline for this is Tuesday October 8th 2004. We at the board think you would be great for the job amongst the others. Thank you. School Board.

Closing the screen, Rocky thought it over a moment. "Teen help line... not a bad idea. Rrrr." Standing, he staggered over to his bed, not bothering to change his clothes, he flops down and drifts off to sleep. A tear fell down his cheek, the pain was so unbearable, hopefully tomorrow he can go to the hospital and get something that would work faster to take away the pain. For now, he could just wait for the medicine to work.

The next day.

Rocky was feeling so much better, it was as though his headaches from the other day had never happened. That's usually how they were, they would come in sharp and fierce, then fade away as though he never had one in the first place. Maybe the medicine was working after all.

"God, all my shirts stink. Do you mind if I borrow one from you?" Robbie asked. He was fishing through his luggage trying to find something suitable for his first day, and normally he was fine with his clothes, but giving them smell they clearly needed to be washed before worn.

"Yeah, go ahead." Rocky was drying his hair with a towel. He had taken his shower, dressed and was ready for the day. He didn't have a class until ten o'clock, so he thought he's go over to the study hall and see about this Help line thing. "Which class do you have first?"

"Health, with B. Harper."

"Ouch," Rocky winced at the name.

Robbie grit his teeth. "That bad?"

"Worse." Tossing the towel into the laundry basket, he pointed the thing out saying, "Your dirty things go in here, I'll show you where the laundry room is when it's your turn to do it." Giving him a smile that said, 'Yup that is one of the rules,' Rocky walked out of the dorm room.

"I'll remember that." He replied dryly. He hated doing laundry. He once tried it out at home and he tie-dyed everything! Bleach was obviously his enemy. Searching through Rocky's clothes, he spots a nice light gray shirt, pulling it from the hanger he tried it on and once satisfied with a pair of black jeans, that are his own, Robbie walked out of the room for class, remembering to lock the door after himself.

The walk outside to the study hall was nice, the wind was blowing and the clouds covered most of the heat from the sun. You know, nice. A crow flew off into the distance, something about it caught Rocky's attention for only a moment, then he continued to the building. Being headache free was so great, he almost forgot what it was like to live without one he had been having so many recently.

"Hi Rocky." Tabatha Wittle, said. This girl is a sweet heart beyond compare. Her brown eyes as big as saucers, her cheeks always high and rosy with happiness; her figure was a little stout, but who cared about that. Occasionally she wears glasses, but only to see. Today must have been an occasion.

"Hi Tabby, where're you heading?"

"Oh same place you are." She brushed a wispy strand of Blonde hair from her face.

Something about that simple gesture reminded him of Emily, then he brushed those thoughts aside. She had dumped him in the worst way possible and he simply did not want to think about her anymore. In fact, the last time he had seen her she was on her way to the airport. She was moving to Washington to study law at their college. She wants to be secretary of the state someday.

"You were picked to be on the help line too?"

The girl nodded, looking down she watched out for a flower bed. "I'm a little nervous though, I've never been much help to anyone as far as I know."

"Hahaha, nah. It's because you have a good head on your shoulders, I'm the one who should be surprised. But I guess they're really just giving the callers someone to relate to and talk with before we give them the numbers for real help."

"Mmm." She acknowledged his words.

The west side of the building was always the nicest because well to put it bluntly, this is where the 'geeks' hang out. So there was no trash, or graffiti on the walls. Just a group of quiet students looking for a place to get away from all the socializing that goes on.

Rocky and Tabatha walked pace fully down the hall, past the false brick walls and classroom doors of the library, study hall and after classes activities. The shorter girl kept checking her back pack for something she must have lost until eventually she sighed in defeat.

"I forgot my pencils, shoot... Hope we don't need any."

Rocky shrugged. "That's okay, I have plenty."

"Plenty huh?" She winked at him. "And where would you be holding them, you didn't bring your back pack with you."

"I didn't?" He held his hands to his shoulders. "Hahaha, look at that, I didn't."

When they got to the room, Rocky held the door open for the girl. "After you."

"Thank you."

He came in after her. The room was filled all sorts of kids, at least for this early in the day anyway. Jocks, geeks, techno heads, and grundgers. An assortment of people, like a box of candy- or jelly beans. Rocky wondered what category he fell under.

The teacher assigned to this project looked up when the two walked in and smiled. "Looks like a lot of people went for this." He said. He was friendly this guy. His soft brown hair with graying sides made Rocky think of his father. The man was also tall and thin, about 6'2", the most distinctive thing about him is his nose, it hooked at the tip like a birds beak. And he always wore very expensive looking suits.

"Here is your phone numbers sheet and notepad."

"What's the notepad for?" Tabatha holds it with curiosity.

"This, is for callers who have serious problems." He points at the paper. "So you don't forget, some people call here and need more than a friend and that's when you suggest the police."

"Aaah,"

Looking over the two's head, he points out a set of phones in the back. "You are stationed over there."

They both look to where the man is pointing.

"Thank you, Mr. O'Dare." Rocky walked toward the empty table, taking a seat.

Mr. O'Dare returned to talking with another student. Tabatha hung out by the window, just observing what was going on.

Rocky looked over the sheet, it contained many helpful places to call for drug abuse, rape, and violence at home. He thought it was going to be a slow morning when his phone rang. Taking a breath to shake away any nervousness he had, Rocky picks up the phone.

"Teens Talking to Teens, how can I help you?" It seemed like the right things to say.

"Hi, this is Luna- fake name ahahaha." The girl seemed nice enough. "Um... My boyfriend... God, it's kinda hard telling this to a man."

"No that's okay, I can get you a girl if you want?"

"Oh no! You sound nice enough to me," the girl laughed again. She was clearly about to ask a question about sex. "So anyway um, e wants to sleep with me but, I'm just not ready for that sort of commitment. What should I do?"

"Hmm? I'm not really sure if this is the place for you." Rocky thought about it. "You might wanna try writing to the news papers columnist, Ms. Understanding. She can help you."

"Oh, thank you. I'm sorry about wasting your time."

"No don't worry about it, you didn't."

"Okay thanks," she hung up.

Rocky smiled, that wasn't so bad. The next call was a tough one. A girl was in dire need to leave home because every night her brother snuck into her room and tried to take advantage of her. This made Rocky furious, but he kept his nerve and spoke to her calmly. "Have you thought about telling your parents?"

CALLER: "I tried to but... it's just me and Mom, and she's always so sick." The girl was nearly in tears. "I've tried everything, locking my door- putting things against it... but still he gets in. So far he hasn't be able to do anything, but I'm afraid that with each night that passes he'll succeed."

"I know a number you can call, if you want it... or maybe..." He didn't want to get mixed up, it was the wrong thing to do, but maybe if you want, I can help you."

CALLER: "But how can you help me, you don't even know me?"

"..." He hesitated a moment. "If you just tell me your name and phone number I could... No, I'm sorry. The number you need to call is 800-465-8233, you can get help there... I'm really sorry and I hope everything works out for you."

CALLER: "Thanks... and boy/"

"Rocky."

CALLER: "Rocky, thank you for caring."

"You're welcome."

She hung up. Rocky had to wipe tears from his eyes. That story was so horrible, why would a brother do that to his sister? It made no sense. Maybe this wasn't the project for him, he's too sensitive!

"Rock' are you alright?" Tabby, pats his shoulder.

"Umm," he nods. "I will be, I just need to get some fresh air." He stood and walked out into the hall.

Rape, he couldn't even think about rape. His childhood friend Paula had been raped and look at where she was now. No, that won't be the end for everyone, he had to stay with this, to help them. The best he could. Gathering his nerves, he returned to the room, just as his phone began to ring. Picking it up, he cleared his voice and said,

"Teens Talking to Teens, how can I hope you?"

There were sniffles at first, then a low, sad voice came on.

CALLER: "I have a sad story to tell,