S.O.S.

"…All my life I'd hide my secrets away, in the dark, in the dark, in the dark…"

– Secrets by Good Charlotte

Notes: I play Tristin on Healing Waters and various others and so this is the same character. It's also based on some storylines I've used there so it may seem a tad bit familiar to some. I'd like to thank Katie, Jenny, Heather and Kim. Their characters inspired some of the characters in this, so I've got to give them a mention. Love you guys. By the way, new GC lyrics each chapter.

Tristin Scott jumped out of his father's black jeep as soon as it stopped on the driveway of Mount Horizon High School, quickly slamming the door shut. He leaned in through the open window and kissed his mother on the cheek, slung his bag over his shoulder and then headed off towards the main building. He had managed to convince his parents that he should go in alone and that they should set off home as they had a fairly long journey ahead of them. His father hadn't taken much convincing, thankfully, and although his mother hadn't been so happy with the idea of just leaving him, what his father said went, so they had left him.

He entered the main building, noticing how beautiful it was around here and how nice all the buildings and log cabins were. He ventured further in to the main reception and found a pretty receptionist typing on a computer. "Hey, I'm Tristin Scott…"

"Hello, Tristin, Pierre has been expecting you," the girl told him brightly, and then picked up the phone. "Hello, Pierre, it's Amanda. I have Tristin in reception for you. Okay, will do. Bye." She put the phone down and looked back at the teenager stood in front of her. "Have a seat, he'll be right out."

Tristin tried to stay calm when she said Pierre was expecting him. He had been hoping his counsellor would be female. He did as he was told and went over to the plastic chairs. He sat himself down, his bag on a chair beside him, and leaned back, scanning the entrance hall. It was nice, homely. No bars on the windows at least.

It was a couple of minutes before a guy appeared and walked over to him. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and jeans, and he resembled an actor from Tristin's favourite TV show, Stargate SG-1. Tristin stood and found that, for once, he was the taller guy. "Hello, Tristin," The man who was almost definitely Pierre began. "I'm Pierre DuGrey, Ridgerunner counsellor. Welcome to Horizon."

The man held out his hand to shake and Tristin slowly extended his shaky hand. Once Pierre had shaken his hand he took Tris's bag from him. "It's good to meet you, Pierre," Tristin said, remembering to be polite. He'd been brought up to be very polite, no matter what.

"Follow me to my office and we'll get you admitted," the brown haired counsellor told him, and then lead the way to an office down the hall. Tristin nodded and followed him in to his office, which was right at the end of the corridor. He paused and then reluctantly went inside, his heart beating faster. He was very nervous about being here.

"Have a seat," Pierre invited, motioning toward the couch, and the boy dumped his bags down and then did as he was told. The older guy sat down in an armchair across from him, smiling. "So, Tristin, you're going to be in my group, the Ridgerunners. They're a pretty cool bunch, I hope you'll get along with them."

Tristin just nodded, wanting this admit to go by quickly so he could leave the office. He wasn't much looking forward to sharing a dorm with guys, in fact, he was dreading it, but at least once he was done here he could go and explore. He didn't have to stay in the dorms.

"So, do you think you could tell me why you've been sent to Horizon?" Pierre asked, following standard Horizon admit format. He sensed that the boy was scared, which made him think back to his conversation with the director, Peter Scarbrow, about the boy, after his visit to their home. Peter had suspected there was more to the teenager's story than there appeared. "And how you feel about being here."

"I was sent here because my lifestyle became too out of control," the teenager replied automatically. That was the reason his mother had stated to him, and it was true. "Basically, I drink too much, do drugs, I did smoke but I quit that, and I party. They don't like that."

"But you do?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow. The first part had been rehearsed, which concerned him. He was either just repeating something his parents had said to him or he was saying what he had been told he had to say.

"I gave up the smoking because I didn't want to do it any more. I know I shouldn't drink and do drugs, and I want to give those things up. But the music? I won't ever quit that," he answered honestly. He missed his band already, and he'd only said goodbye less than twenty-four hours ago. He felt very uncomfortable in this room, he was finding it a little hard to concentrate and a little hard to breathe.

"I'm glad to hear you're open to the help that's being offered," Pierre said with a smile. It was always frustrating when a student didn't realise they had a problem or didn't want help. It was actually very rare for a new student to be this honest or open, it was refreshing. "And how do you feel about being here?"

"I don't really care. I know there's some stuff I need to work at. I wish I didn't have to be away from my band, I wish I could stay with one of them, but I know that can't really happen," he shrugged. "So I guess this is the next best option."

"I'm surprised. Most people aren't as open to the idea of Horizon as you are. If only all students reacted this way," Pierre smiled, but he was actually pretty worried. It tended to be the abuse victims who liked it here, they felt safer than at home. Peter had suspected some form of abuse. Was he right?

"Yeah I bet some people react really badly to the idea," he nodded, he could understand that. He didn't mind being here, not really, because he was safer here. Even if he felt uncomfortable in the dorms and with Pierre he got the feeling that it really was okay here, that he'd be okay.

"So is there a reason for your going 'out of control?'" Pierre asked him, getting right in to it. He was hoping that the boy would tell him, carry on being completely honest with him, but he doubted that would happen. He would probably say there was no reason at all, that he just liked to party and he'd gotten a little out of control for a while.

"Yeah, see, I used to be a jock, but I felt fake, they were all fake and I was faking it. And I met this new crowd, the freaks, punks and Goths, and I found I fitted in better with them. They weren't the reason. The reason I started drinking, smoking…is because I formed a band and started playing gigs. The opportunity presented itself and I thought, what could one beer hurt? Soon it was several beers, and before I knew it…" He trailed off, hating that he had to lie to the guy but not seeing any other choice. If he told him the truth bad things would happen, he knew.

"…You were out of control?" Pierre said, finishing his sentence. Tristin nodded, and the counsellor bit his lip. He didn't believe that was the truth, or at least he didn't believe it was the full truth. He hoped in time the boy would trust him enough to reveal his secrets. He was definitely keeping secrets, Pierre just wasn't sure what they were yet.

"Yeah," he said, hoping they could just leave it at that.

"I must say, I feel very honoured to have a rockstar in my group," The man commented, having read that Tristin was the lead singer of a band that had actually started to become quite popular in New Mexico. "But, no special treatment here, although I'm sure you don't want any."

"You sure got that right," Tristin said, and even smiled slightly when the man seemed to get the reference to a Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

"Good band," Pierre commented, before continuing. "Good. Well, let me go through the rules and regulations of Horizon. Then I'll need to search your bags and take you down to the infirmary to get checked out and searched by a doctor. Once we've got that out of the way you can go to your dorm and unpack, chill out for a while."

"Okay," the boy said, having no objections. He tapped his foot nervously, he was itching to get out of there.

"This is a safe place, Tristin. Anything you say to me or another counsellor stays between us unless you give your permission for us to repeat it to others or we suspect that you or someone else is in danger. We have weekly one-on-one therapy sessions where you and I will meet and talk about things. You're expected to attend group sessions with the other Ridgerunners, and pull your share with chores. You need to be in your dorm by 10.30, lights out at eleven. There's no sex, no drugs or alcohol, no cigarettes, no violence or inappropriate touching, no bad language. There are consequences for your actions, both positive and negative," he recited. "We often take you on hikes as a group with different goals. There are occasional quests and exercises designed to help you find yourself or accomplish a range of things. You are required to keep a journal, also, and attend all your classes. I think that's the lot…" he said, scratching his neck as he tried to think of anything else. "There is a written list in the dorm so I suggest you read that as well. Any questions?"

"Umm, not yet," Tristin said, shaking his head. He was desperate to just get out of here. "My brain has gone walkies. I'll get back to you if I think of anything."

"Okay then," Pierre laughed. "Have you done much outdoors stuff before? We do a lot of it here but it's nothing to worry about."

"Yeah I'm always camping back home, with my boys, and I like hiking and outdoors stuff, it's fun," Tristin replied, and he actually was looking forward to doing some of that stuff, some of it could be fun.

"Good," DuGrey said, standing up. "Now that we've been through the rules I need to search your stuff. Then in the infirmary the doctor will examine you and search your body and your clothes. It isn't great, but it isn't as bad as it sounds and it is over and done with pretty quickly."

"Is the doctor a chick?" Tris asked, trying to make it sound as if he was just curious. He was actually worried about having a male doctor, but he had decided before he had arrived he would be careful here at what he said and did.

"Can be, if you want," Pierre replied. It was no big deal, sometimes guys did want female doctors for whatever reason. Tristin just shrugged but Pierre got the sense he really wanted it to be a woman. He'd make sure he got one, then.

Tristin stood up and handed Pierre his bags, then sat himself back down. The counsellor took the bags over to his desk and set them up on the top, snapping on a pair of disposable white gloves. He began to search through the boy's belongings, hoping he wouldn't find anything that shouldn't be in there. It always broke his heart when the students tried to smuggle drugs or knives etc in to their safe haven. "So, tell me more about yourself, son. Music, hobbies…your band…"

Tristin raised an eyebrow when the man called him 'son,' as the guy couldn't be older than twenty-seven. He wasn't really old enough to use that phrase, he didn't think. "Umm…I love all sorts of rock bands from Lynyrd Skynyrd to Good Charlotte. Classic rock, punk rock, modern rock…my band is a Good Charlotte type of band. Music is my life, it's my main hobby."

"Sounds like you're very dedicated," the counsellor commented as he looked through his stuff. He hadn't found anything so far.

"Yep," he said. He fell silent, waiting for the bag search to be over. Pierre found nothing in there that was against the rules so he sealed the bags back up and put his gloves in to the trash. Tris collected them from the desk and then brought them back over to the couch with him.

Pierre came over, closer, and Tristin suddenly found himself getting more anxious. When he sat down at the other end of the couch and turned to face him he almost jumped a mile. "Tristin, you are safe here. I promise I won't hurt you," he said, trying to reassure the boy. "You know you can tell me if something else is going on. Problems at home, whatever…you can tell me."

"No, no, no problems," Tristin said, almost snapping in his response. He was terrified of what would happen if someone found out. He couldn't tell, he could never tell. It was his secret to keep, his burden to carry. His alone.

Pierre was disappointed when he said this, he wanted to know what was troubling the boy so he could help him. Knowing that Tristin was uncomfortable with him being so close, the counsellor moved back to the armchair. "Well unless you have any questions, I think that's it. I'll drop you at the infirmary."

Tristin practically jumped out of his seat and went straight for the door. "Okay, let's get this over with."

Pierre scratched his head as he followed the boy out and then lead him down to the infirmary. Whatever Tristin's secrets were…they were toxic ones…