A/N: I assure you, the direction this chapter went in was not originally intended, but I believe I wrote this story for about six hours straight and by the time chapter three rolled around, the idea just flowed out and seemed to go with the story, so I left it there. There is also something else coming up, something big about Billy's past that he is going to reveal that I also did not intend on writing into this story, but as with this idea, my muses told me to write it so I did and it flowed and worked perfectly. This is one of the few fics that I have actually finished and I'm really proud of it because it's the first fic I've done involving this pairing, even.
So as always, read and review, the faster you review, the faster I will get the next chapter out.
Tommy was aware that Billy was following him but he didn't care. He'd just admitted his true feelings for his friend and Billy had just brushed him off. Just like Kimberly, who had promised her heart to him then left him high and dry when she went to Florida.
Reaching his hotel room, Tommy took his key out of his pocket and opened the door. He walked over to his duffel bag and took out a knife. He'd packed the knife when Billy had first invited him along for the weekend. He hadn't used it in years, so why should he start now?
He ran his finger over the sharp edge, pressing it against the skin. Blood trickled down his finger and onto his arm. Closing his eyes he turned his hand, palm up, and pressed the skin, wincing as he felt the all-to-familiar pain. He wiped the blood clean, and then proceeded to do the same thing on his other arm.
By the time Billy joined him in the room, the only visible signs of what Tommy had done to himself were on his arms which were now covered by long sleeves.
Billy set the boards against the wall by the door then flopped down on his bed and picked up his book.
Tommy sighed and flipped the T.V off. He couldn't handle the silence anymore. "You're mad, aren't you?" he asked.
Billy had gone over and over in his mind his entire way back to the hotel everything that Tommy had told him. He wasn't angry really, more like confused. "No," he said honestly, turning to look at his friend. "I'm just confused."
"No more than me." Tommy told him. "I don't know what is happening to me."
"Nothing." Said Billy, frowning suddenly. "Something's different about you…" Suddenly he got up and opened the desk drawer in the middle of the two beds. "Tommy, what is this?" he asked, holding the knife up. He ran his finger over the edge.
"It looks like a knife. Someone probably left it here." Tommy replied nonchalantly.
Billy frowned even deeper. He went to sit next to Tommy and rolled up his sleeve and saw the cuts. "Tommy, what are you doing?"
"It's hard, Billy. I used to cut all the time when I was younger, and I thought I quit, I haven't done it in ages, but something snapped inside me and I started again."
Billy nodded in understanding and rolled up his sleeve to show Tommy a scar that everyone had thought he'd gotten in battle. "After my mom died, I used to cut all the time. This scar is a lasting reminder of the fact that I almost killed myself."
"And you never told anyone? Not even the other rangers?"
Billy shook his head. "Except for Zack. It was him that found me lying in a pool of blood in the bathroom at the Youth Center." He looked at his friend. "Tommy, you can stop. I did, and I threw myself into my studies from then on."
Tommy shook his head. "It's hard." He whispered.
"Tommy, look at me." Billy urged him, lifting his chin up so he was staring into Tommy's chocolate-brown eyes. "I'll help you." He whispered, mesmerized by those brown eyes. The next thing he knew, his lips met Tommy's and before he realized what was happening, he pulled Tommy closer to him.