Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. I'd probably get lynched if I did…

Author's note: This does not end happily ever after. Consider yourself warned, okay! (ie. No whiny flames about how they were supposed to get back together.) And yes, I am very mean to both characters. (And wow, do they have potty mouths in this…or at least, they have my definition of a potty mouth. ^-^;) This is what happened when I listen to too much Matchbox 20. *-* (It's the most depressing music I own…quit laughing.) I figure these two are probably around twenty-two in this fic, and TK's around eighteen. (And yeah, I have no concept of canon ages. *sweatdrop* They change in every fic I do…) I tried to present both sides in a logical fashion so it didn't seem like it was all one person's fault. I hope *crosses fingers* that I succeeded because in any type of argument, it is almost never just one person's fault.

And strangely enough, I'm usually a very optimistic person. Trust me when I say that having it end like this is not my usual style. *sweatdrop*

Nowhere From Here

By Rachel Lynn

"Cut it out, Tai. I told you. I've got work I have to do." I grumble as I bat his hands away. Why does he always have to be so grabby? I love him and all, but sometimes I just need some personal space. And he just never can seem to understand that. He shoots me that pouty hurt look of his and of course, I feel guilty. He's my boyfriend. Of course he wants to cuddle and stuff.

"Ah, c'mon, Matt. It's the four month anniversary of us moving in together." His hands dive back in under my shirt and work their way up as he wraps his arms around me. "Can't you put that work away for just a couple hours. I swear it'll be there when you come back." I turn to look at him and his semi-goofy semi-seductive smile.

"The anniversary was last week." I dead pan as I resist the urge to shake him off. It's not that I feel cheap or anything when he comes on like this. In fact, it couldn't be farther from the truth. But still, it's just something about the way he does it. Like there's the implication there that what I'm doing, what I'm working on isn't as important as what he wants. It irritates me.

"Last week, this week. Who's keeping track? C'mon Matt." He nuzzles my neck.

"Tai, I told you. I've got work I have to do. It's due tomorrow. If I don't get this done tonight…"

"What? They'll kick you out of the band? Get real Matt. C'mon. Lighten up a little." I grind my teeth together as he so easily dismisses my obligations. I know it doesn't seem like a lot to him. But it's important to me. He should respect that! I know I'm getting angry again. And I hate it. I don't like being angry, and I don't like getting angry at him. I'm just frustrated, I tell myself. He's not being serious and he doesn't mean it that way. I'm blowing it out of proportion.

"I'm sorry, Tai. But I really have to do this right now. I've been put it off long enough as it is, and it has to get done."

"You always say that." He complains as he starts pouting again. Great. I feel guilty all over again. Maybe I have been ignoring him a little bit too much lately. I've just been really busy, what with the band and college and all. He's probably right. We could use some quality time together without work or interruptions.

"Fine." I say, hating that resigned note in my voice. It's not that I mean to sound that way, right?

"Don't sound so enthusiastic." He returns, and I can hear the hurt in his voice. God. I really get sick of soothing his hurt feelings all the time. It's not like he cares much when he hurts mine. That's not fair, I reassure myself quickly. He does care. I know he does. He just never realizes when he's hurting my feelings.

"I said fine, didn't I?" I snap back as I walk over to him and slide my hands under his shirt and pull him close. He glances at me confused for a moment, and then I watch as he mentally shrugs it off and grins back at me.

***

"I gotta get back to work. If I don't have that finished by tomorrow, the guys are gonna take a chunk out of my hide." He says as he crawls out of our bed and starts getting dressed. I'm not going to get angry, I tell myself. He really does have work to do. It's just that his work is always more important then me. I watch as he walks out the door to our bedroom and I roll over with a groan. God, I'm thinking like some needy housewife.

I hate that. I feel like I have to beg for every scrap of attention from him. I pull on a pair of boxers and then my jeans. I don't bother buttoning the fly--it just takes too much effort--and then I walk out into the living room. He's sitting at that goddamn desk of his, just like he was when I came in this afternoon.

"Hey I'm making some tea, you want some?" I ask as I pause near the kitchen. He grunts and I can practically feel my blood pressure rising. He grunts. I don't even merit a couple of pronounceable words. Sometimes, I just don't get him. I'm busting my ass here trying to make this relationship work and run smoothly, and it just seems like he doesn't even give a damn.

Leaning on the counter, I scowl in the general direction of the living room while I wait for the water to boil. He's just always so distant. If he doesn't like the way I'm doing things, then he oughta just come out and say so. Forget all this beating around the bush. I'm not a fucking mind reader. Whipping around, I yank the cupboard open and pull out two cups.

I'm trying. I'm trying as hard as I can to make this work. But it just seems like the closer I try to get to him, the more he pulls away. What does he want me to do, for god's sake? Slamming the cups down on the counter, I pour the water, and then put in some tealeaves. I pick them up, take a deep breath and then move back into the living room.

"Done yet?" I joke as I put the cup down on the desktop. He doesn't even look up, so I put a hand on his shoulder and peer over it at what he's doing.

"No. I'm not done yet." He retorts with that edgy irritated tone of his as he shrugs my hand off. Well excuse me for living.

"So what exactly is it that you're working on?" I ask disinterestedly as I plop down on the couch and flip on the TV. He's always working on something. I'm half way beginning to think that it's just an excuse to get away from me. Nah, I shake my head slightly. We've just both been a little crabby lately.

"Band stuff. Do you mind?" He arches an eyebrow as he gestures towards the television.

"Ya, I mind." I snap back. "I live here too, you know."

"You are being such a jerk." I barely hear him mumble as he starts gathering everything up. "I'm gonna head off for the library on campus. Maybe I can get some actual work done there." He drops all his papers into his backpack. Oh, and I'm being a jerk? We haven't sat down and just watched a program on TV together since we moved in. He always got work to do, or somewhere else he has to be.

"Fine, run away, you chicken." I return as I push off the couch and storm back off into the kitchen.

"Tai," he calls after me in that resigned apologetic voice of his. What? So now I have to get angry before he'll even give me a passing glance?

"What?" I growl back.

"C'mon, Tai. Don't be like this." I look back over my shoulder, and he's got his jacket on already. He can't wait to get out of here, I think with a snort. "I'll be back once I get this finished."

"Like I care. I'm just the decoration around here."

"It's not like that and you know it." He returns. "God, how is it that you always make this about you?" Oh, so now I'm the selfish prick? I don't think so!

"Man," I force a laugh, "if your parents were anything like this, I think I understand why they got divorced."

***

I stare at my paperwork in the silence of the library, not really seeing it at all. Damn him anyway. I wasn't joking around. I really do have to get this done. But can he just take a step back and let me have the time and the space to get it finished? No. Instead he starts this huge argument and now I can't even concentrate.

He's always so demanding. He's got to be with me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It's like dragging around some damned kid who can't seem to entertain himself. I can't do that, and I don't want to try. He just doesn't seem to grasp the concept that sometimes I need to be by myself. Sometimes I just have to have time to think to myself and do something by myself. I'm not like him. I don't need to be surrounded by people all the time.

Sighing, I stare down at the paperwork and try to refocus my attention. It's an effort in futility though, I'm too worked up.

"if your parents were anything like this, I think I understand why they got divorced."

And that's another thing! I slam my pencil down on the tabletop in frustration. He goddamn knows I'm sensitive about my parents splitting. And yet, he doesn't think anything of using it against me in an argument. How the hell am I supposed to trust him and confide in him when he pulls shit like that?! But when I pull away in the least bit, he gets all huffy and demanding all over again. It's like living with a goddamned leech.

Maybe…maybe we are acting just like my parents. Nah, I dismiss the idea quickly and uncomfortably. This is Tai. My boyfriend. My best friend.

But have we really been acting like best friends?

I rest my forehead on the table as I study my hands on my knees. I can't say exactly when all our arguing began. We've always argued. As kids, in the digital world, on our dates, after we moved in. It's part of our relationship. So why does it bug me so much now? Why can't I just let everything he says slide off my shoulders like I used to be able to?

But we're living together now. I guess I figured that that meant getting closer to one another. Taking everything to another level. But he doesn't know me any better now then he did when we were kids. He doesn't understand how I feel. If he did, he wouldn't react the way he does. And I'm not so sure that it's something that I can explain to him. I've never been good at admitting what I feel. Hell it only took a year and a half of loving him afar, and him making the first move before I could admit to his face that I loved him.

I try to give him hints. I try to let him know when he's doing something that irritates me, but he never gets it.

And on the flip side of the coin, do I know him any better now than when we were kids? I hate to admit it. I loathe the idea, but I don't understand him. I don't know why it is that he feels he has to be around me all the time. He's suffocating me. Can't he see that?

"if your parents were anything like this, I think I understand why they got divorced."

We are like them. I can feel a little shiver of fear race up my spine. Maybe I just didn't want to analyze it too much, but in that stupid heated moment, I think Tai might've actually had a point. Our arguments have been escalating in the last four months. And it's not just over the important stuff anymore. It's over the little things. Completely unimportant things like whose turn it is to do the dishes or who cleaned the bathroom last.

God. Why couldn't I see this? We've both been absolutely miserable. We just have fight after fight.

Am I staying with him now just because I don't want to be like my parents? Am I making us both unhappy just because I don't want to fail like they did? Oh god. I can feel the tears creeping into my eyes. Am I staying with him because I love him, or am I staying with him because I don't want us to break up? Because as much as I hate to admit it, there is a difference.

***

"Hey Matt! What's with all the…boxes." I come to a dead halt in the living room as I stare in utter disbelief.

"TK, take this out to the car, would you? I'll be along later." Matt says quietly to his blonde brother as he hands the kid a box. I can't make my mouth work. He's not…he can't possibly be doing what I think he's doing. That's ridiculous. He's probably just lending TK some of his things. The little blonde brat just got his own apartment. It makes sense.

"Oniichan?" TK flips Matt a worried, almost disapproving, look before he shoots a sympathetic glance back at me. This isn't happening.

"Just go, TK." Matt sighs as he gives the blonde a small shove. I wait until TK's out the door and then I whirl on Matt.

"What the hell is going on here?" I hate that panicked note in my voice. He flinches.

"What does it look like? I'm moving out, Tai. This isn't working." He says almost guiltily.

"The hell it isn't!" I yell. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to us?

"I'm sorry, Tai." What and that's supposed to make me feel better?! That's supposed to make all this right?

"No. No you're not." I scream. I know I'm losing it. But damn it! "Do I even get a choice in this?" He flinches and then shakes his head.

"It's for the best Tai. If you'd just take a look at what's been going on around here, you'd see that." He pleads. "I did a lot of thinking last night…"

"Is this just all because I wouldn't turn off the stupid TV? Gimme a break, man! I'm sorry I got all bent out of shape. It's not a reason to just up and leave, though." I cut him off as I walk up to him, sticking my face in his. He shoves me lightly back.

"It's more than just the damn TV, Tai, and you know it! It's us. It's this." He gestures wildly, and all I can do is stare at him dumbly. "We've been drifting away from each other for a while now. Take a look around you. Have we been happy since we moved in together?'

"It just takes a little adjusting." I return fiercely. "Are you just going to give up?"

"It's more than that." He says quietly. "I don't know you anymore."

"The hell you don't." My voice sounds tiny and scared, even to my own ears. "You love me." He bites his lip hard as he shakes his head. I can feel the ice climbing through my skin.

"You don't know me either, Tai." There are tears in his eyes as I vehemently shake my head in denial. "I gotta get going," he rubs his eyes before looking back at me. "TK's waiting."

My head keeps screaming "do something", but I can't get any of my muscles to work as he walks out the front door. As the latch clicks shut, I fall down to my knees, crying.

He's just going to throw it all away. And there's not a goddamn thing I can do about it.

"Damn you anyway, Matt!" I yell, hoping that he can hear me, but knowing that he can't. I want to hurt him. I want him to feel this same empty ache that's in me now. "You coward! You just ran, couldn't stay and actually try and work things out, could you? No, you just pulled back into that fucking ice world you've created." I lean back against the couch, dazed and angry. How can he say that I don't know him? I know every damn inch of him!

How could he just give up like that? I've been trying so hard, and all for nothing. He's just going to throw it all away because he can't deal with a little rough weather. After everything we've been through together, a stupid little argument is what he's going to ditch me over? Why does he have to be like that?! I rage.

Why.

Shouldn't I know why? I…I mean if I really knew him, shouldn't I have been able to see this coming from him? No! I push the thoughts away. We've been best friends since we were ten for god's sake. And he's saying all of the sudden that it doesn't mean anything? All the times we used to hang out playing video games. All the adventures and mishaps we had in the digital world. Our first date. Our first kiss. Didn't any of that mean something to him?

Yamato. God, does he have ice running through his fucking veins or what?

Or what.

Taking a calming breath, I try to analyze this rationally. How can I get him back?

Nothing comes to mind. Absolutely nothing. Do…do I really know him as well as I think I do? He did have a point. All we have been doing lately is arguing. And they haven't exactly been reasonable arguments. I start yelling, he starts withdrawing. And that infuriates me, so I start hurling insults. Anything to get a reaction out of him. Anything to make him come back out from behind that icy mask he's made for himself.

Is that love?

Dully, I lie down on the floor. No, no I'm not so sure it is. But we had some good times together, he and I. And as they all start to roll through my head like an old fashioned movie, I just let myself cry.

***

Sitting on the park bench, I can hear the trees above me rustling as the wind moves gently through them. I don't think I've ever cried this much in my entire life. Not even when my parents divorced, and at the time, that was devastating. I've thought about calling him up, asking for a second chance, asking him to take me back and forgive me for being so hard headed.

But every time I pick up the phone to try, I know it's wrong. Going back wouldn't change anything. We'd be apologetic and we'd make up for about a month, and then everything would spiral out of control again. I have to face facts. The two of us were just never meant to be together like that. We're too different. We're too alike.

But damn. In between all those bad times, we did have some good times. I've got one memory that just won't leave me alone. The two of us in the digital world, catching fish in the dark together one night when we were on watch. Two rambunctious, outspoken kids, who were convinced they could take on anything, convinced that they could rise to any challenge and triumph over any foe.

I miss them.

But things change. Times change. People change. I don't know why that's always so hard to accept, or why a person can never see it coming. I manage a shaky sigh as I run my hands through my hair. Sometimes it's better not to try and salvage what's lost. God, that's a bitter pill to swallow.

A year from now. Three years from now. Ten years from now. I don't want to remember the ugly moments. I don't want the arguments and the angry words to be the only things I can recall. I want to reminisce about the good times. I want my memories to be bittersweet instead of just plain bitter.

So I've been writing them all done. Maybe it's just some kind of self-imposed punishment I've given myself. I don't know. It really doesn't matter.

"Matt?" I look up to see Tai standing there beside the bench. I give a slight nod, not willing to say anything. "Is it okay if I sit?"

"If you want." I shrug.

So we just sit there in silence. I don't know how long we've been here. Five minutes? Ten minutes? An hour?

"Think we'll ever just be friends again?" He finally asks as he pushes up and moves to leave.

"Maybe."