Hey, so I've had this story running through my mind recently, and I finally decided to start writing it. I'm just warning you, it's probably going to be a long story. It's an AU scenario, but I'm sure you've already figured that out by the description. Anyway, yeah, here ya go. I'll have another little note at the end of the chapter:

She hated drugs. Maybe it was because addiction -alcoholism- was what had gotten her where she was, or maybe it was just because she hated how they made her feel. She wasn't entirely sure why she hated drugs, but she knew that she hated them. She also hated losing people, though, and so far in life she'd lost everyone she'd ever cared about. She also hated violence, but violence wasn't uncommon in her life. She also hated her life, but still, she was alive. So it didn't surprise her that drugs, something that she hated with a burning passion, had ended up being so frequent in her teen life. Pretty much everything that she'd ever hated had a way of biting her in the ass, and drugs didn't work any differently.

They made her sick, for one thing. They made her dizzy, and they made her feel out of control, a feeling that Callie didn't take to very warmly. While she'd never actually had much control in her life -while she should have been used to not having any control- she absolutely hated feeling that way. Life was a bitch, she knew that much, but she always wanted to have control on something -on herself. The drugs took that way. They made her feel like she didn't have any power, like she didn't have any say in what happened to and around her, and she couldn't stand it. It scared her, which ultimately always ended up making her feel sick with panic. The drugs didn't numb the pain, like everyone else said that they would. They just made her anxiety even more intense while they were in her system.

She had no way of avoiding them, though. She had no way of getting clean, or of dulling the effects. Her boyfriend, if she could even call him that, was a dealer, and he was involved in a gang, and he was pretty notorious around the neighborhood. He wasn't someone whom you wanted to mess with. He didn't have a conscience and he didn't have a heart. The only head that he used to think with was in his pants, and as charming as he could pretend to be around customers or girls, he had a dark side. In fact, he had multiple dark sides. He was layered, and unfortunately, Callie knew each and every layer. Most people who knew him well enough to know that he wasn't a good person had only ever seen the surface of what he was capable off. Maybe they'd seen him threaten strangers who had gotten in his way at a bar, or maybe they'd seen the wad of hundred dollar bills in his wallet that couldn't have gotten there legally. Callie had seen the much darker, more unsettling parts of him, though. She'd seen him when he was drunk -not just tipsy at the bar drunk, but really drunk. The kind of drunk that only she had ever seen, because whenever it got that bad, he was always alone in the apartment with her, pissed out of his mind. One time, someone had knocked on the door while he was this wasted -it had been someone from the neighborhood who had come to complain about something relating to the drugs- and the son of a bitch had nearly beaten the poor bastard to death. Callie had been the one to step in before it could get too far, and by some miracle, she'd managed to convince her boyfriend to stop pummeling the guy. That night hadn't been anything compared to what Callie knew that he was capable of, though. She knew the darkest parts of him, and she knew that he wasn't someone that you'd want to mess with. She'd seen him in his darkest moments. She'd been the bearer of his abuse for a long time now. She'd seen the way he could get if someone pissed him off. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he'd killed someone before, or at least that he'd eventually kill someone in his life. He was the kind of guy that, if people knew half the shit that he'd done, you'd read about in the newspaper -not just the local newspaper, but nationwide newspapers. He'd beaten Callie countless times, and he'd threatened her life on multiple occasions as well. He'd made it perfectly clear that he was in charge and that he wasn't to be disobeyed.

So Callie knew better than to say no when he offered her drugs. She knew better than to try to stay clean, because doing so would probably just wind up getting her killed in the long run. She knew better than to try to leave, too, because her asshole of a boyfriend had plenty of connections and he'd kill her before he'd let her leave. So really, there was no way to avoid the drugs. There was no way to get sober, or to try to clean her act up. She was the only one to blame for it all, though. She'd dug that hole for herself, and if she couldn't get herself out of it, then that was her fault and she knew it.

"Hey, whore," a voice called from the next room in the apartment.

Callie rolled her eyes, biting her lip as she turned to look through the door way. Dan, her boyfriend, was in the next room with a couple of his buddies. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at the one who had called for her. He had a disgusting smirk on his face, and Dan and the others were just chuckling lightly, amused.

"What do you want, Jack?" Callie sighed, knowing that whatever it was, Jack was only talking to her to piss her off. Dan and his friends did that all the time, she was used to it, but it still pissed her off.

"Get me another beer, will ya?" He smirked as he held a joint at the edge of his mouth, knowing very well that Callie would do what he'd asked because she was practically a slave in the apartment. She did what Dan wanted, which meant that she did what his friends wanted.

Callie just bit her lip and held back a snarky comment as she stepped into the small kitchen. Empty beer bottles sat on the counter and Callie made a mental note to clean up later on. Dan, fortunately, wasn't too much of a neat freak, but she knew that he wouldn't be too happy if she just let the kitchen get trashed by him and his buddies. She opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of beer from inside the door.

She walked back into the room where Dan and his three friends were sitting around the coffee table. They were practically hot-boxing the apartment with how much they were smoking, and Callie just wished that they'd go somewhere else. Normally, she could tolerate them smoking in the apartment. Normally it wasn't that big of a deal. But not today. This day, every year, was a bad day for her, and she just wished that those sons of bitches would take their damn drugs somewhere else.

"Here," she said more sharply than she should have, setting the drink down hard on the table. "There's your damn beer," she mumbled, turning to walk out of the room.

Everyone's smirks faded and the four addicts narrowed their eyes at the teen. Dan jutted out his jaw, looking at Callie with anger in his eyes.

"You wanna fix your attitude, Callie?" He asked in a low tone -a warning.

She just scoffed, taking a step forward to leave the room, even though she knew that ignoring him wasn't going to do her any good. She was just too pissed off and upset to care, though. There was too much on her mind, and in that moment, she didn't really care what Dan would say or do.

A dangerous silence fell over the room as Dan stood up and grabbed her arm tightly, stopping her from walking away, and Callie clenched her teeth, trying not to let him see that he was hurting her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not now at least.

"You look at me when I talk to you," he hissed tightening his grip as he spun her around so that she was facing her.

Callie just glared at him, jaw shut, and tugged her arm back a bit, hoping that he'd let go of her. She knew that he wouldn't do anything too bad while his friends were around. Sure, maybe later he would rough her up a bit, but the jackass was smart enough not to take it too far while there were people around to see it. All of his friends knew that Dan could be violent with her at times, but he knew better than to let them see just how violent he could get.

"Let me go, Dan," Callie growled, pulling her arm back. He didn't let go, though.

"You better watch yourself," he snapped back, his voice low so that only she could hear him. "You should know better than to disrespect me when we have company."

He let go of her, then, and she took a step back, biting her tongue as she looked him dangerously in the eyes. She came back to her senses, then. She knew better than to piss him off any more. It would only wind up getting her hurt worse. It wouldn't do her any good.

"Now apologize to Jack," Dan demanded, no room for argument in his tone.

Jack looked at her expectantly, and Callie turned her eyes toward him, biting the corner of her mouth. She had nothing to apologize for, really. After all, he'd been the one to call her a whore and demand that she get him a beer, all while puffing smoke in the sitting room of her apartment. She shouldn't have had to apologize for being a little bit pissed off after that.

She had to do what Dan wanted, though.

"Sorry," Callie said flatly before turning around and rolling her eyes.

"I'll tell you what," Jack smirked, lifting the joint up to his mouth. "I"ll forgive you, but only if you take some of this."

He grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes, and held up a small pill that had been sitting on the table. Callie eyed it for a moment, then looked up at Jack to see if he was actually serious. The wild look in his eyes and the sly grin were enough to tell her that he was. She looked to Dan, then, her eyes almost pleading as she didn't say anything.

"Go on," Dan nodded, now smirking along with the rest of his friends. "Two pills is all you gotta take. Then you can go back to looking at whatever shit pictures you took while you were out again."

Callie clenched her jaw for two reasons. One, because she really didn't want to take the drugs, and two, because she couldn't stand the way Dan talked about her photography. Taking pictures was the only thing that she actually enjoyed in her life, and he took every opportunity that he could to tear her down for it.

"Dan, come on," she sighed after a moment, biting the corner of her mouth. "You know what happened the last time you guys made me take ecstasy."

And he did. He knew very well what kind of effects the drug had had on her. He knew that nothing good would come out of it, for her at least. Maybe he and his friends would get some enjoyment out of it, but she wouldn't.

"Take the pills, Callie," Dan replied, the warning tone in his voice betraying the smirk that was plastered onto his face.

"Dan," Callie tried again, her tone almost begging as she felt her heart rate begin to speed up.

She couldn't take the pills. Not after how badly things had gone the last time he and his buddies had shoved them down her throat. None of their drugs ever really had any sort of euphoric effect on her. There wasn't any reason for them to, really. Ecstasy was a whole other story, though. She'd only taken it once before, and it had been terrible. The panic had been worse than anything she'd felt with other drugs before. The nausea had been horrendous. The effects of the ecstasy had been extreme for her, and she didn't want to relive it all again.

She saw the flicker of fire in his eyes and the way his nose flared up. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. She'd already talked back to him. She'd already pissed him off. He wasn't going to let her get away with turning down the drugs as well.

Callie swallowed nervously before looking back at Jack, who still looked just as amused as ever.

"Fine," she spoke, her voice void of emotion as she held out her hand and clenched her teeth.

Jack chuckled, then placed two pills in her palm, knowing that he'd succeeded in whatever game he was trying to play. Callie shot one last look at Dan, who was now leaning back comfortably in the couch, a satisfied expression on his face. He nodded to a half-consumed bottle of beer in front of him and Callie knew exactly what he meant. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she reached down and grabbed the bottle, trying her hardest not to show that her hand was shaking. She tossed the pills into her mouth, then took a swig of the beer, swallowing the pills down with it.

"Happy now?" she muttered, turning and walking out of the room without another word.

Something bad was bound to happen. With the drugs, it always was.

Okay, so that's the first chapter. It's pretty short compared to how most of the rest of the chapters will be to be honest, but It's just what I got written down today and I stopped there for a reason. This fic is probably gonna be kinda heavy at some points, and it is most definitely a hurt/comfort story in many aspects. It's also a story about "building" a family though, I guess. Oh, and there's no Brallie. Not romantically at least. Anyways, yeah. I've got the whole story mapped out in my mind and I can promise you that there will be a lot of angst and drama and stuff. If you have any questions or thoughts, please feel free to leave a review, as they are very much appreciated.

Also, don't worry, just because I'm starting this story, it doesn't mean that I'm going to be any less invested in In My Veins. This story just something that's been going through my mind lately and I just had to get it written down.

And one last thing: I don't know that any of you have noticed, but I typically title my stories with the name of a song that relates to the story, whether it's just a few lyrics or the entire song. "In My Veins" is a song by Andrew Belle, and "I'm in Here" is a song by Sia. I just felt like it was only right to mention that because personally I think that both artists deserve credit for their songs. They're both incredible writers.

Again, please feel free to drop down a review so that I can know what you think! Thanks guys!