A/N: Broken-hearted May is seeking comfort by Ash while Drew pleads for help from an unlikely person...

Disclaimer: OMG! I don't own Pokemon! So sue me!

~ ~ ~

Why should I care?
Because you weren't there
When I was scared
I was so alone
You need to listen
I'm starting to trip
I'm losing my grip
And I'm in this thing alone
- Avril Lavigne

Losing Grip
two: help me

Stupid!

I was so, so, so stupid!

How had I gotten myself into this whole mess? What had snapped inside me and let out almost a year's fury and frustration and disappointment and thrown it upon poor May and what stupid, stupid, stupid impulse had made me destroy our friendship? Her face was still clear in my mind, tears rolling slowly down her face and splashing onto her trembling hands, clasped below her chin. Shaking her head slowly, mouthing the words over and over again: 'please don't, Drew...please'. She had really valued my friendship. Why? What had I ever done for her? Had I ever realised how much I meant to her? Did she mean as much to me?

Did she?

This was how much I had been bottling up my emotions over my whole life. I didn't even know how I felt any more. And - oddly enough - especially not when it came to May. It was like that section of me, of my heart (did I even have I heart?) was closed off, and not just to everyone else but to me as well. I probed my emotions anxiously. There had to be something there. May's face swam to my mind's eye again, but this time it was a very different memory of her. She was smiling. Her dazzling smile, which I might never see again. Her eyes were warm and friendly and her hand was stretched towards me, waiting for me to slap it in a high-five. I had regarded her coldly and walked away.

Her smile had withered away, like a beautiful flower wilting in a winter frost.

Because of me.

It was the last time I had seen that smile. The smile that made my knees go weak.

I had a powerful urge to hit something, to yell at someone, to rip something up, and it wasn't in the same senseless, cruel rage I had attacked May in. My emotions exploded and in absolute desolation, I looked up at the endless blue sky and let out a cry of despair. In spite of myself I felt a prickling sensation behind my eyes and I bent my head and walked away to somewhere that May wasn't, that Ash wasn't, where nobody would see me. I didn't care where I was going. I needed to figure myself out and make it all better.

But how?

Was there anything I could do to fix this great mess I had made?

Could I fix May?

Because when I had looked at her face in the instant after she had slapped me, I had seen her eyes and behind them was a small, broken little girl. Broken by me. Shattered.

Had I devastated her that much? Had I destroyed her that utterly?

Of course I had. How come I hadn't realised? I was everything to her. And, I realised with a shock, she was everything to me too. Why hadn't I known this? Why had I concealed my feelings for so long that I no longer had any?

Questions! Too many questions and no answers! I had to figure this out. I had to figure out the situation, the solution, I had to figure out May and most importantly I had to figure out myself.

And all too suddenly I was brought out of dream land and back to reality as I bumped into a small, skinny person.

He let out a little grunt of surprise.

"Sorry," I muttered. I looked up at the boy. He wasn't much older than eight or nine, with lank dark hair, crimson-brown eyes and large glasses.

He was May's brother Max.

"Hi, Drew," he said. "Do you know where May is? Pity about the contest, hey? You were great. You both were. Have you seen Ash?"

I shook my head, nodded it, and then shook it again. No, I don't know where May is, only that she's sobbing her heart out because of me. Because of my vicious, unfair, unprovoked attack on her feelings and our friendship, that would leave her heart wounded for life.

"What's up?" said Max innocently, cocking his head to one side in good-natured curiosity. His hair fell across his eyes and dangled parallel to his chin. I couldn't keep back a tiny smile at this. He really needed a haircut. But this only amused me for a split second, then the magnitude of my own newly released feelings came back like a huge weight on my shoulders. Max waited while I stood motionless for a moment, then shook his longish hair out of his eyes and said bemusedly, "Well?"

And before I could stop myself I was telling the little kid my whole story, and trying to express to him my feelings - about this appalling mess I was in, about the contest, about May and about myself. He said nothing and listened attentively, his face impassive. I had no idea why I was pouring my heart out to May's little brother and was shocked and a little disgusted at myself when, finally finishing my story, I hung my head in despair and addressed him directly for the first time. "I need you to help me, Max," I said, my throat tight and my voice cracking dangerously. "Please. Help me fix this. Help me fix May."

He said nothing for a second, and then suddenly he exploded in my face. "You IDIOT!" he yelled. "Do you know what you've done to my sister? Do you have any idea how much you mean to her, you jerk? You've always been awful to her, but this -!" He stepped back and shook his head in fury and contempt. "This is what she was always afraid of. You've completely destroyed her. You must be really proud of yourself, in love with her as you are."

I jumped as if he had poured ice down my back. His words echoed around my mind. "You must be really proud of yourself...IN LOVE WITH HER AS YOU ARE."

But now he was saying something else. "Of course I'm going to help you. What kind of a brother do you think I am? It would be cruel to May - almost as cruel as what you've just done to her - not to help you." He put his hands on his hips, frowned at me, regarding me sardonically for a moment, then blew a strand of dark hair out of his face as he sighed. It sailed upwards before coming back down to exactly to where it had been before. "But what I don't understand is this," he said agitatedly. "What do you actually want me to do?"

I didn't reply. All I could hear was Max's words, ringing in my ears, fizzing in my brain, bouncing and echoing around my mind.

in love with her in love with her in love with her in love with her in love...

"Drew!" said Max impatiently. "What do you propose we do? I can see no way in hell out of this mess you've made."

I stared down at him. "Er..."

He sighed and shook his head, his shaggy fringe bouncing around his forehead. "Hopeless! You're hopeless!" He stepped towards me, arms crossed, frowning fiercely. "Look, this won't resolve itself. What do you think we'll do? You can't just march up to her and apologise. What would she say? That wouldn't fix this."

"Err..."

"Well?" he demanded. "What?"

"Well..." I scratched the back of my head. "I should just show her I really care."

"You just don't get it, do you?" asked Max angrily. "You've crushed her. The most heartfelt apology you could think of wouldn't penetrate her now. I don't know what you can do. I'm nine. Why on earth did you ask me for help?"

It was my turn to sigh. "Because I don't know what to do. I feel like an idiot."

"That's because you ARE an idiot," he said shortly, and, scrawny arms crossed, he spun on his heel and walked briskly away. I didn't bother following him. He was right. What would he do? Apologise to her for me? I really was hopeless.

~ ~ ~

May's eyes were closed and her face was streaked with tears. Her head rested on Ash's shoulder. His arms were tight around her, and she felt wonderfully safe and warm, and she knew he really cared. He really cared about her and he wanted to help her feel better. But she doubted she would ever feel better again. When she had heard Drew's cold, ruthless words, it had been like he had stabbed her with a knife. The wound, she thought, would never go away.

If there was ever anything between us, consider it gone.

That was when he had slid the knife into her heart.

Gone.

As she bled, he had given the blade a vicious twist, just to make sure she really suffered.

Nothing left.

And then he had left her with the cold, sharp knife of the truth in her chest while she slowly, slowly, painfully slowly, died an agonising death.

She sniffed and buried her head in Ash's shoulder.

And then Ash had come and resurrected her and tried to mend her broken heart.

"Thank you," she murmured, her eyes closed, feeling his concern and dismay and his arms wrapped around her.

He said nothing, but May knew he felt a pang of sympathy and was grateful to him for it. He would never know how much it meant to her that he was here with her, comforting her. She opened her eyes and wiped them. Ash let her go, but kept a hand on her shoulder. "I'm really sorry. About what happened with Drew. I hope it resolves itself."

May smiled wistfully. For all his kindness and much-needed sympathy, Ash was sometimes optimistic to the point of silliness. Then again, he hadn't been there. He hadn't heard the icy, detached finality in Drew's voice as he'd slashed their friendship and May's heart into shreds, then burned the shreds, then buried the debris. And there it still lay, her heart, and along with it anything she had ever felt for Drew. She firmly told herself that if it was over, it was over; he was no longer a part of her life.

Ash smiled too and removed his hand from her shoulder. He offered his hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. He held it in his own for a second before letting it drop and beckoning to her.

"Let's go back to the Pokémon Centre. They're waiting for you."

They were waiting for her, thought May with a surge of gratitude. Her real friends. They would always wait for her. They would never leave her.

Not like Drew.