A/N: Unfortunately, there is no Needy in this chapter. It basically focus on Colin and Chip. I would also like to include and express my shock on the hits and the reviews I have. Thank you, all! I was truly surprised to see that! I was expecting only one review. If I haven't answered your review personally, than I apologize. I will get to it. Just out of curiosity, did anyone truly like the movie? I asked some people I know who watched it, and they all have said no. And yet the read the fan work about the movie. I am one of those hypocritical people, though. Not really liking the movie, but loving the characters. Sorry for the long note. Please review.

Gravity

Chapter Two: The The End Comes...

"You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she had lived. You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back, or you can open your eyes and see all she's left. Your heart can be empty because you can't see her, or you can be full of the love you shared. You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday. You can remember her only that she is gone, or you can cherish her memory and let it live on. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back. Or you can do what she'd want; smile open your eyes, and go on."

-David Harkins

His death was slow and painful.

And there was no 'life flashing before your eyes' or 'a bright light'.

Jennifer had eaten him alive after breaking many of his bones. It was a slow, agonizing death which he had spent screaming for help- even though he knew that it was the end of his short-lived life. Jennifer Check- the 'hot cheerleader and friend of Anita' which he had come to know her as- tore him apart. Leaving him screaming and gasping for air.

"Anita...", he whispered softly after Jennifer bit into his heart.

Colin Gary could remember vaguely that Jennifer had paused after he said Needy's name for some reason. It was only for a second that she stopped her cruel, slightly erotic torture in order to let his blood, crimson red in the candle light, spill on to the plastic cover. She hissed something under her breath before he wheezed out Needy's name once more.

He didn't know why he whispered Needy's name with his last dying breath. Needy was a friend of Colin's- a fellow writer. A classmate. That was it.

So why did his heart pound with each syllable of her name? When she smiled at him? Why did she seem to make most of his insecurities go away? What made Needy Lesnicky so different from everyone else? She was a nerd who only had two friends, not including himself. Her hair was never going 'the right way', even though he thought it looked wonderful. She was always being belittled by Jennifer Check.

What was it?

Her hair? Maybe.

He smile? Completely.

Her laugh? Totally.

The fact that she could get him closer to Jennifer?

Hell, no.

It was possibly the other way around. Colin was -well, going to- use Jennifer to get closer to Needy. It didn't work in the least bit. For, he was now laying somewhere. It was completely black, no light anywhere to be found. His body, probably rigid and torn, was immobile.

Colin Gray had no clue as to what this was; whatever it may be. A bleak, emptiness that surrounded him. His thoughts echoing loudly- his breath broken into short wisps of air. He felt no pain; he could not move his body from the position he was in. Given, he also had no idea what position he was in for everything was a complete blackness filled with echoing thoughts. He couldn't even tell for sure if he still had his body.

So. Colin Gray thought, the bitter echo bouncing through the seemingly spacious area. This... blankness is death...? No fire-y flames, no bight, blue-eyed angels' waiting for me? ...Just completely... black...?

How was it possible to still be -if he even was- alive when he was definitely dead?

Colin imagined his death to be something fully of poetic potential. A string of gripping words which reflected the reason for his being. For every breath he too. He thought that his death would be something... spontaneous- not that what happened at "Jennifer's house" wasn't, because if very well was. He hadn't seen it coming. Which, in a twisted way, was some-what of how he wanted to die.

Of course, he wanted to know a little bit of how he would die, just not that much. Colin wanted his death to be a gripping catastrophe of romantic violence which reflected just how much he hated living. But, it didn't happen that way. It was painful, slow, and a very unfortunate event which he will relive forever in this... solitude of emptiness.

Although he flaunted how much -in his "social"outings and in his creative writing assignments- he wanted to die a tragic death filled with irony of living and some band which screamed into the microphone blaring in the background, he was not prepared to leave the Earth like he had. Call it selfish, but Colin wanted to see Needy crying over his cold, pale, lifeless body, reminiscing on her true feeling for him.

As if that would ever happen.

Needy had Chip.

Chip had Needy.

Chip and Needy had each other.

Chip Needy Chip Needy.

Anita Lesnicky and Chip Dove were... together.

There was not a sentence which held both the names, "Needy and Colin" with the word "Together" in it.

Unless you said it as such: "Needy and Colin are (NOT) together"; the structure of the sentence would be wrong.

Of course, Colin Gary was a man- well, teenager- who was very well connected with his feelings. But, when Anita Lesnicky started talking to him in their advanced English class, he was shocked. The only girls who usually -or willingly- talked to him were the 'Dead Girls'. Besides them, and now-- then, Needy, no one socialized with him.

Colin Gray was very fine with that.

He wasn't one for big social parties or groups. He would be fine with a few people to chill at the mall with. But when Needy Lesnicky decided to sit next to him, that was just confusing. In all honesty, if she wasn't going out with that Dove kid, he would have definitely asked her to go out with him.

Just, the forty-five minutes they were given to talk with each other alone, and be completely normal with it, Colin Gray was not going to risk it. Unfortunately, that risk which he decided not to take turned out to be the worst thing that he could have done in his entire life- and there was a pretty long list of 'worst things Colin Kyle Gray had done'.

He let out a wisp of air, letting the cold, crisp air pass through his lungs.

He usually didn't need to inhale again; he only breathed out of habit. This time, the air needed to get back inside his lungs.

Coughing lightly, he slapped his hand against his mouth, trying to smolder it before he coughed up a lung.

...What the...fuck?; since when could he move his hand?

...When did he actually need to breath?

He tried moving his aching body from what ever position it was in. Which, if he had to guess, he would have said that he was laying down. Colin moved his fingers around, before testing the major limps. He was sure his stomach was a gaping hole spewing with blood, but when his hand found its was to his stomach, he only felt cold skin, and tattered remains of a shirt.

His tongue darted out to feel his lip ring sitting in the center of his mouth.

Colin was able to sit up-rather shakily and with tremendous amount of pain when he moved-into a sitting half siting position. The darkened area was blurring, fading in and out. Blinking harshly against his watering eye, fingers dug into the cold, surface underneath him.

What the hell is going on?, Colin's thoughts slurred in panic. His eyes shut to block out the sharp glare of light.

Colin Gray was dying- again. Or maybe, for the first time. And this time, this second time of his dead, Colin Kyle Gray did see a bright light and a blurred, pale face in front of him, etched with worry and alarm. Yet, there was still no poetic gripping vocabulary of words strung together about how peaceful death truly was.

Xx

"Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it; Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lightning in collied night; That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth; And ere a man hath power to say, 'Behold!'; The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion."

-William Shakespeare

"Is he stable?", someone asked, their voice a slow echo.

Chip Dove felt as if he were floating.

It was euphoric rush of mind blowing pleasure that made his toes tingle with shear ecstasy. A feeling which he had shared with someone – whom he could not remember- once before; a feeling of great completion. Of course, he knew he was not complete. He was broken. Chip was in a non fixable predicament that was gnawing at him from the back of his mind; yelling to him that there was something he was forgetting.

The voices faded around him, turning into to nothing that was as important as the relaxing feeling drifting inside him. A shiver of pure bliss passed through him once again as the sounds grew louder and clearer.

"...Are you sure?".

"...Will he survive?".

"...I need..."

A jolt of pain shot through his body, replacing the euphoric feeling with that of reality.

Need.

...Why was that word sending pain through him?

It was only but a simple word. Four letters; and yet, it was sending the most excruciating pain throughout his whole body, replacing the euphoric rush. Concentrating on the last little rush left, Chip tried to forget that word with much difficulty. It was craved into his heart, he mused. The word drawing his pain as a moth to a bright flame.

Aside from the terrible pain in his heart, there was also a different feeling- a feeling of great compassion. Love. The sensation was almost as wonderful as the euphoric rush- and almost as painful, too. The word was both inviting and fearful. Chip knew that there was much more to the word, he just couldn't place it.

A prickling feeling pierced the skin on his hand, dipping into his vein. The soft echo of a 'thump, tha-thump, thump, thump' in the distance. Whispers, he could faintly hear, but didn't really care about, were all around him.

Exactly where was he?

The last thing he could remember, was the strong feeling of love, pain, betrayal, and that word; need. Although, the word was used in a different way; Needy.

His heart beat almost in tune to the word.

"...Looks wonderful!", someone above him cried.

…What...?

There was something that Chip Dove knew he was missing. Something extremely important, yet only the word 'needy' popped into his head when he did ponder on it. He knew that the word held a deep meaning to him, to his heart. Yet, his own subconsciousness wouldn't let him remember it.

Was it really that necessary to remember, then?

The pain erupted once again inside his chest.

Obviously it was.

A stream of lights flashed before his vacant eyes.

"Doctor! He's waking up!".

A sound of rushing movements echoed around him. His brow creased with confusion.

'Wake up'? Wasn't he already awake?

The flashing light grew more brighter as the echoing noise became gentle whispers from above him. Chip could see his own hand reach towards the light cautiously, as if watching from a mirror. He was standing in front of himself, the blinding white light surrounding him. He stretched his hand towards himself; the mirrored version copying the movements.

Chip could see all of his features reflected from the copy of himself. Brown hair swiping into his brown eyes, fanning out around his face. A large bloodied mark around his neck, wrapped his see-through gauze that clung to his neck tightly. His clothing was a while hospital gown, hanging loosely from his body.

The strange image of himself reached out, grasping the Chip by the gown. The mirrored hands clenching against his beating heart. The light grew brighter, causing Chip to cover his eyes. The light began to fade, a hazy vision of people wearing green scrubs and white lab coats.

"Hurry! We need stabilization!".

As if something snapped open inside Chip, he thrashed around on the white hospital bed. The pain spread throughout his body once again, starting at his neck. His body grew weaker and weaker until he couldn't even open his eyes anymore. His was falling into a medicine produced sleep.

The last thought that passed through his mind as he began to fall into unconsciousness, was that word, seemingly ready to strike him whenever he forgot about it. This time, leaving an agonizing feeling inside his heart and a biter-sweet taste in his dry mouth.

His mind began to shut down, powerless against the drug.

Chip's mouth opened, murmuring the word quietly.

"...Needy..."

A/N: I personally like Colin's story better than Chip's. Only because I wrote it. Kidding. I like it more because he is expressing how he wants to have something but he can't. Kind of like most crushes or infatuations. Any who, I joined a creative writing club at my school- so I may no update as fast, but this will be continued. Er. I guess that's all. Later.