Cole clenched his fists and his knuckles turned white. How could the coach let this happen? Wasn't somebody going to do anything?

And then he realized: he was this 'somebody'.

He made his way through the entrance and walked up to the leader. He felt like he was stomping so hard the ground rumbled. What he didn't see, is that behind him, spikes of rock rose from the ground. He rolled up his sleeves to give his arms more freedom and punched the leader with all his might.

'FALCON PUNCH!' Cole yelled internally.

The surprise and impact made the leader trip and fall on his back. He brought both his hands to his nose and shouted with his probably broken nose:

"Are you bucking duts, you bsycho?!"

Cole looked down at him:

"Maybe."

He then walked up to the eight other players, putting them to the ground, alternating punches in the nose and jaw, uppercuts, kicks in the shins and martial arts.

Cole stretched out a hand to the bruised boy lying on the floor, curled up in a small ball. The kid took the offered hand, and was surprised as Cole lifted him off the floor with such ease.

The boy tried to walk, but as he pressed his right leg on the ground, it ached with a regular throb. He removed it with a hiss of pain.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Cole, in a way he found way too panicked for the moment.

"I-I don't think I can use this leg…" the kid replied, pointing at the limb.

"I hope it's not too bad. I'm going to call 911," Cole pulled out his phone

"No…No, it's fine. I just need to clean it up and rest a little."

"Hm…You're right. Come home with me, we'll get you fixed up."

The kid didn't seem comfortable with this idea, but didn't say anything and just gave an uneasy look.

Cole being, oh so subtle and observant, took that as a yes and piggybacked the boy to his bike, hopping over the bodies of the groaning teammates sprawled in the dust. The spikes had disappeared, but small holes were still visible in on the spots the spikes once had been.

He settled the boy comfortably on the luggage rack (as comfortable as being seated on a luggage rack can get) and started his race.

Cole tried not going too fast, the boy being severely injured and bruised. He was holding tightly Cole's waist, like his life depended on it. Cole wanted to make a comment about his grasp but stayed quiet. The kid felt this question coming.

"It's just that I once sat on my Mom's bike luggage rack and I fell. I was only three. I almost died."

A dead silence followed.

Cole's house was a few blocks away, so he tried learning about the bench-sitter:

"So…What's your name?"

"Jay. I would have guessed you knew my name yet. You're always stalking me."

"Am not!" Cole chuckled.

"Don't you think I see you watching me at each baseball trainings I've had for the last two years?"

Cole stayed silent again. The boy was right, at one point.

"But how old are you? You look like the youngest in the team," Cole tried to change the subject.

"I'm turning sixteen in a month."

The rest of the sentence was not spoken.

'Not that anyone cares.'

"I'm sixteen too!" Cole cheerfully added.

"I still haven't thanked you for rescuing me. And I don't even know your name."

"I'm Cole and you don't have to thank me."

Jay simply nodded and grasped Cole tighter as the bike went faster.

Cole and his guest were in the kitchen. Bags of ice were applied on the most bruised parts of his body.

Cole had cleaned the blood on Jay's face and was now looking at him closely. Jay had really short hazel hair. Everything in his body seemed to be pale, small and thin. His limbs were bony, his eyes bloodshot, watery, and underlined with heavy dark bags, his lips were thin and almost white. Jay was so small and skinny he looked three years younger.

Jay had insisted on not removing his shirt.

"But how will I be able to evaluate how bad are you injured on your ribs and stomach?"

"I'm sure they're fine. They don't hurt at all," lied Jay.

Cole had assumed it was because he was embarrassed or something, but he still put ice bags everywhere to make sure everything was alright.

They sat across each other.

Cole broke the silence by:

"Hey, would you like a snack or whatev's?"

"I guess it can't hurt," Jay's voice creaked like an old door.

Cole felt guilty for letting Jay down for two weeks. Letting everything pass normally. He grabbed two packs of Oreos and settled to make some hot chocolate. He asked if it was okay, and Jay answered with a somewhat pathetic 'Anything's fine…'

Jay sipped his hot chocolate quietly, protecting his hands of the heat of the cup by covering them with his sleeves. A pretty girly thing to do, to Cole's eyes. Jay checked the clock behind him.

"I'd better be going. My parents are gonna go nuts if I stay longer."

"I'll drop you there. You won't go too far with that leg of yours."

After a few minutes lost by Cole taking the opposite street that Jay was indicating, the bench-sitter arrived safe and sound at home. He lived on the seventh floor of an ugly, gray and sad building.

When Jay was about to cross the main door of the building, Cole called him out:

"Maybe we could meet again? I'd like to get to know you better."

Jay turned around and half smiled at him.

"Tomorrow, the baseball court? I'll scare all these douches with my new stalker bodyguard."

Cole laughed and gave Jay a thumbs up: "Count on me! See you tomorrow."

Cole was lying in his bed, reading a novel about a fangirl, until he wondered what could Jay be doing at this moment. Maybe he was sleeping, maybe he was having dinner with his parents, maybe he was doing his homework, maybe he was on the Internet…So many possibilities to explore and it took Cole almost an hour to realize it was stupid.

But what Jay was doing was beyond what Cole had imagined. The brunette was in his bathtub. After undressing and pouring the hot water in the tub, he had picked up his self-harming kit, disguised as an eyeglass case. It was complete with razor blades, adhesive bandages and disinfectant liquid.

Jay felt so numb. Nothing could get to him anymore. The pain was the only feeling left to be felt by him. Today's beat up was nice. Reminding him he was still alive. That's why he smiled. But it wasn't enough. He still had to hurt more, but this was like being on drugs. The more he felt pain, the more he needed.

He had felt slightly fulfilled when that guy…Cole took care of him. It was nice knowing someone cared about him, at least a little.

When he said his parents would go nuts if he stayed longer, he was lying. His parents couldn't give a single flying shit about their son.

Jay slipped in the hot steamy water and stayed still for a few seconds. He reached for the razor blades and started carving a message in his chest. He carved it in his chest because slitting your wrist was too noticeable and popular. The marks of the previous one were still visible. It said: 'I need more pain'.

A tear rolled down Jay's face and his mouth shook and transformed into a small smile as he tried carving 'WORTHLESS'.

•◊•◊•

Today, Cole arrived earlier at the baseball court. He managed his way through the gate. He passed all the team members and sat next to Jay, and the old bench. The leader shouted, pointing at him:

"Id's hib! Id's hib! He's de bsycho brom yesderday! Get hib! (It's him! It's him! He's the psycho from yesterday! Get him!)"

The team ignored the leader, not wanting to get beat up once again by this teenage and dark haired Jason Statham.

"I see I've made quite a first impression on your teammates," Cole joked.

"They won't bother me anymore when you're around."

"Why don't you ever play?"

"The coach finds me too awful. And if the coach says something, the team takes it like some kind of holy announcement. Therefore I'm not aloud to play baseball."

"Aren't your parents getting upset you're not doing anything?"

"They don't care. As long as I'm not home, it's fine."

"Ouch."

"I haven't seen your parents around either."

"My mom was a junkie. She's probably dead by now or fucking around with one of her boyfriends somewhere or became a prostitute. I'd say it's one of the first two, because she would have contacted us if number three had happened. And my dad's always rehearsing for a musical."

Jay closed his eyes and nodded.

"I've brought enough chocolate pudding for both of us. Do you want some?"

"You're too nice with me."

"What? It's just chocolate pudding. I mean, it's like a quarter at the corner shop."

"I'm also talking about yesterday. The rescue, the bandages, the hot chocolate, the ride…That's too much coming from you and I haven't even gave you anything in return."

"You don't owe me anything. Seriously. It's all natural."

Jay didn't want to argue more.

"Do you want that chocolate pudding or not? If not, I'm eating both."

Jay took the pudding and opened it, taking the small plastic spoon that came under the lid. "Thanks."

"Don't you ever get bored, sitting for hours, watching others play?"

Cole talked too much. He had to find something to talk about. But, strangely, Jay wasn't really bothered. "Yeah. Sometimes."

"So let's ditch it. Follow me."

Jay's limp was pretty obvious, he dragged his leg painfully along. Cole would have carried him, but Jay would have probably found it too direct and sudden, so he left Jay walk by himself.

Cole led Jay to a nearby bus stop. The coach didn't say anything, and Jay was pretty sure he shouted a 'Good riddance!' before. It felt nice being loved.

Jay and Cole were waiting for the bus, and Cole only had his backpack and not his bike. Jay assumed it was at home or he'd left it in a safe place.

The bus labelled 'Line 169' arrived and picked them up.

The driver greeted Cole like they were old pals. And they seemed to be. Cole knew almost everybody not his age in this small town. Mostly because his mother had more boyfriends than there are stars in the milky way.

The driver looked at Jay, then back at Cole with a nice smile. He asked:

"¿Es tu novia? (Is she your girlfriend?)"

"¡No! ¿No puedes ver que es un chico?" Cole felt heat rise up to his cheeks. "But could you bring us to The Place please?"

Jay didn't speak Spanish, but it wasn't hard figuring out what the driver said, due to the looks he gave to Cole and Jay and Cole's reaction at the question.

"Of course, but I thought The Place was only for the hot chicas."

"Make it an exception."

The bus was almost empty, only two people were in it, aside from Jay and Cole. Jay chose the seat at the very far end of the bus and Cole sat next to him.

After ten minutes or so, the bus had emptied its two other users. They were rolling on the promenade beside the sea. Jay asked:

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere no one knows about or has forgotten except Juan, our friends and I," answered Cole. As he said 'Juan' he pointed at the driver.

The bus continued along the promenade, until it reached the end of it. Cole thanked him for the ride and Jay and him hopped off. They were in front of a small fence with 'NO TRESPASSING!' crudely painted on it.

"I don't know if you noticed the paint…" remarked Jay.

"I'm the one who painted it. It's to keep people from discovering The Place."

"But there always be someone trying to come here."

"Nope. It's been seven years and no one ever came here."

The fence opened on a huge cliff. It took them a few minutes to get at the edge of the cliff, mostly because of Jay's limp. They were more than a hundred meters above the sea. Cole stopped a few inches from the drop. He pointed at the sharp rocks at perking out of the water. Waves broke violently on them and the cliff.

"This fall is deadly."

"Oh, is it?"

"Some people could not realize!" protested Cole to Jay's cynical answer.

The stiff, salty wind lashed against their faces, sending Cole's half-long hair in every direction. Jay's hardly moved, his hair being cut so short.

"So that's The Place?" Jay asked for confirmation. He was a little bit disappointed. He would have expected some kind of paradisiac cove with a waterfall or something along the lines.

"Yeah. We seem to make a huge fuss about it because having people you don't know or don't like around here changes everything."

Jay was waiting for further explanation.

"It might seem deceiving. The way people picture our descriptions is much more grandiose than the actual cliff. But there's something about it I really like. When you stand at the edge of it, and look at how huge the horizon is and you think: 'All these possibilities! All these places I haven't explored! All these cultural differences!'"

"Or you can think you're a small ant on Earth's face, that can be blown away in a fraction of a second."

"Excuse me?" Cole wasn't sure he misheard. The wind could change sentences entirely as they flowed hazily in the air from the mouth they've dripped off to the ear of someone.

"Never mind."

Cole sat down and dangled his feet in the drop. He didn't seem bothered by the fact one of hid old, crappy, untied All Stars could slip off his feet and make a big 'Splash!' in the water below.

He patted the grass next to him, showing Jay he wanted him to sit here. Jay gave in and sat next to Cole, but brought his knees to his face, curling in a ball.

"Hey, what's up?" asked Cole.

"I'm kinda cold with only my baseball shirt and I wasn't planning such wind."

Cole looked at him a few moments, his eye squeezed slightly in sign of focus. That's when he had this streak of genius. He took off his jacket, and threw it over Jay's shoulder, who lifted his head in surprise. The jacket kind of looked like a cape on Jay, him being so small and skinny compared to Cole.

"Take my jacket. I'm used to wind."

Jay thanked him with a broken smile. Although, he really appreciated what Cole just did, Jay had lost the ability to smile long ago.

Cole took his bag and ran a hand through the stuff in it. He pulled out a sandwich wrapped in plastic film.

"Interested in some peanut-butter-jelly?"

"I'm not too hungry…"

"Okay," Cole sounded a bit disheartened. He cut the sandwich in two equal parts and left one in the wrapper claiming: "If you want some, there it is."

An long silence followed, in which happened the expected. One of Cole's sneakers fell off.

"Shit! At least I'll have an excuse to have a new pair."

Cole had finished his part of the sandwich long ago, but hadn't touched Jay's one.

"I'm not going to eat that sandwich, you know. You deserve to eat it."

"But you may change your mind, and you'll be happy when you're hungry and there's half a peanut-butter jelly sandwich."

The wind had died down. Now it was a lazy breeze that stroked their cheeks. Cole took out a bubble blower, and started blowing bubbles, that were carried away by the breeze and drifted away.

Jay hadn't been able to resist this childish practice, and they took turns with the wand. For some reason, Jay's bubbles never lasted more than two seconds before popping.

However, one passed these two seconds, but a black butterfly with white stripes - or a white one with black stripes - settled on the bubble. Strangely, it didn't pop it. The butterfly carried the bubble along with the wind.

A/N: So that's why this story is rated M. But don't worry, there won't be any smut! xD