A/N: so hi! I wrote this a while ago for quizilla, but I've revamped and reamped it for here! So I hope you enjoy it :DD

Disclaimer: I so do not own Connor, Murphy, Smecker or any of the other familar faces you might see in here. I also do not own "Too young (to feel this damn old)" by Garth Brooks :]

Chapter 1: Smokes, Shots and Shame

*Blaine*

hospitals bore me, so why do i subject myself, and end up practically gettin my own permanent room? I pondered to myself one particularly late night. I washed the soap off her hands, and watched it swirl around the drain. Man, I was tired of being tired. Being stuck in the hospital make me more tired then usual. Sighing, I poked the bags under my brown eyes. I was quite plain, in my opinion. My pin straight brown hair, was cut in a style that my stepfather had distastefully called "scene". Whatever, I dug it. pulling my red, black and white flannel sleeves down, I left the bathroom. What's that song my dad always used to sing? "I'm much too young to feel this damn old"

Singing the Garth Brooks tune, I started the trek back to the waiting room, where the other kids who were in the same program as me hung out. our Friday nights marked the end of the treatment days, but since we weren't allowed to leave the hospital, we usually ended up sitting in the E.R. waiting room and watched.

Morbid, yeah. But it sure as hell beat "Everybody Loves Raymond" reruns.

I flopped down in an uncomfortable contortion of plastic that the hospital insisted were chairs and she eyed the rest of the group. The "Life Recovery" group. Or as the rest of the hospital calls us, the Kookoo kids. Because apparently, if you try to off yourself, then you're insane.

Actually, there might be some truth to that I thought to myself as I turned my attention to the hustle and bustle of the E.R

"Call it" I said, looking at my group.

"four" Ted stated. Ted had been there the longest out of all of us. Shocking really, because he looked as normal as they come, blonde shaggy hair, football player. All around good guy.

All around good guy who'd put a bullet through his heart. Well, technically lung, he missed.

"Three," I threw out. "I'm feeling three."

"You're both fucked up, it's gonna be six" Jimmy scoffed. Jimmy was an addict, you name it, he's done it. Extreme in my book, seriously, how many people have actually done brown brown?

"two" Anna's quiet whisper entered the conversation. I rolled her eyes. Anna was a quiet, small blonde haired blue eyed ballerina, who came within inches of drinking herself to death.

"Anna it's always more then fuckin two" Jimmy informed her.

"So call me an optimist." she whispered. The boys cracked up, and I smiled.

"Ann if you were an optimist, ye wouldn't be here" jimmy smiled. Anna smiled shyly.

"No i suppose not." she looked at the ER "but I can hope that not six die. Seriously, Jimmy. Are you just wanting people to die?"

"someone around here will." jimmy answered. "Someone always dies" I bit my lip, not enjoying the shivers that Jimmy's words sent down my spine. Ted just stared at the ground, and Anna's lower lip quivered.

"we need a smoke and a half." Ted sighed. jimmy nodded. Anna jumped up with them. they looked at me, who shook my head with a smile.

"none for me thanks" I winked. "gotta keep this face pretty and the voice sexy. Got a huge career in phone sex lines to look foreword too." that got me a groan from the group.

"How are you always so up?" Jimmy shook his head. I shrugged.

"Because, I'm not supposed to be here." I smiled and they all just waved and walked towards the garden exit down the hall. The hospital had implemented the garden as a place for patients to relax, but it had quickly become the place to go when you needed a smoke.

I repositioned myself on the abstract thing that was E.R chairs and stared as medics and doctors rapid fire traded information about the people one the gurneys. They didn't even treat them like people, they just used numbers. That had always bothered me about this stupid place. Patient 589 needed a transfusion, patient 143 needed the paddles. Who knows who these people are?

Here I was, just turned 18 and was trapped in these antiseptic halls. For who knows how long, and I was sure that none of the nurse I'd seen every day for the last six months knew my name. I was psych patient 0012, and that was all I was ever going to be in this place, it seemed.

Not that I truly wanted to be known in the hospital, the place always seemed crude. It was a double standard. People came to hospitals because they wanted to get better. They connected healing and hospital in their head right? Well, it was like Jimmy had said, "someone around here will die"

Stop depressing yourself Blaine, and go interact or something I mentally scolded myself and got to her feet and stretched, then sauntered slowly around the corner., trying to remember how bad talking to yourself was exactly.

"Oww!" Slipped out of my mouth as I was knocked onto my butt. What the hell? Did I run into a wall? Not like it was the first time. Looking down at my shirt, I saw that there was blood on it. "W-what?" I looked up at what I had run into.

Staggering back a couple steps from the impact, was a blondish man, who's shirt was soaked in blood, and there was blood on his jeans too. He was being supported by a darker haired man, who had a cut above his eye, and a bloody nose. I stared with my jaw dropped. The blonde guy looked like he was hopping in and out conciseness.

"Oh my God!" A nurse cried, noticing the two men, the darker haired one sighed.

"Can ye help us?" he gestured towards the other man.

I pulled herself off the floor to make way, as an onslaught of nurses and doctors took the blonde man with them. The dark haired man just watched as they took him, shell shock glazing his eyes. He looked like someone had just kicked his puppy.

"Excuse me, you need to fill this out" a nurse told him, handing him a clipboard and a pen. He looked at her like she was retarded. The nurse sighed. "We need is medical and insurance information."

"Aye, I know what the fucking papers are for" the man growled. I smiled behind my hand.

"Then fill them out" she scoffed and turned back towards the desk she was manning. The dark haired man sneered at her. He then looked down at the paper, shaking his head. Even from where I was, his shaking was visible.

I was torn, on the one hand, I wanted to apologize for running into him and the other guy, and kind of find out what had happened to them. They looked tore up.

On the other hand, there is an unspoken rule to any hospital. Other people's problems are just that, other people's. you were always supposed to mind your own business. Especially with super serious cases.

My inner struggle ended with compassion winning out, so being me, I sat down next to the shaking man, and took the pen and clipboard from him, uncapped the pen, and held it over the paper. The dark haired man looked at me like she was insane.

"Hi" I smiled.

"… 'Llo?" he answered. He pointed to the paper. "Uhh, what are ye…?"

"They have to be able to read it, and you're shaking. It would probably end up looking like chicken scratch." he sighed and ran his fingers though his hair. I noticed a tattoo on the side of his neck. Maybe he was in a gang? "So, unless you want that nurse to come back and yell at you again, you'd better get through this."

"But it's me brother's personal information there lass" he gave a ghost of a smile.

"Is he filthy rich?"

"What? No?"

"Then you don't have to worry about me stealing his identity or anything." I smiled. "besides, I feel bad for running into you two, so let me make it up for you." The man looked me over again.

"Awh, fuck that was you?" he asked, looking at me, then he went two shades paler.

"Yeah, I'm really, really sorry! I didn't look where I was going" I turned red. Being clumsy almost killed someone. I couldn't believe it.

Thank God my friends hadn't seen that.

"No need to apologize lass, t'wasn't much room 'round tha' corner anyways." he answered her, still staring at me. I followed his eyes to the blood and realized what made him look so sad. I popped the buttons off the flannel, and pulled it off, leaving me clad in a black tank top. I balled up the shirt and stuck it under the chair. The man gave another ghost smile.

"I'm Blaine, by the way" I told him, playing with the pen.

"Murphy" he gave me his. I nodded.

"Alright Murphy, let's do this stupid paperwork," I read the first question. "Patients last name?"

"MacManus" he answered. I groaned inwardly and tried to sound the name out, theh showed the name to Murphy for spellchecking. "ye fergot da A, right dere" he pointed where it went.

"Fudge" I hissed. "Middle name?"

"Da whole name?"

"no…they only want half of it"

"Bit of a smartass ain't ye. His middle name is Declan." he told her. I bit her lip again. Damn Irish names. Damn Irish spellings. I scribbled down what I thought was correct.

"First name?"

"Connor"

"It that -ER or -OR?" I asked, realizing that those were both hospital terms. Oh irony, you suck . I looked at Murphy, who was just staring at me. "Alright, -OR it is." I sighed. "Okay, your brother's name, by far, has been harder to spell then a college entrance essay" he shrugged. I looked at the next box.

"Patient's birthday?"

"8/26/75" he answered. I wrote that down too, luckily, I couldn't misspell that.

"Medical history?" I looked up at Murphy. He looked like he was thinking hard, but then turns to me and says 'none'.

By the time I was done with those stupid papers, I actually felt sorry for the nurse who had to go through all of this shit. It was monotony at it's worst level. I gave Murphy back the clipboard and reached for my balled up shirt.

"So, hey, I think I'd better go catch up with my friends, hoping they haven't burned down the building or anything. So I'll see you later Murphy."

"Bye lass, thanks fer yer help"

"No problem" I smiled, and headed towards my room, not feeling all that chatty right now. That Murphy guy's eyes were glazed over in completely shock. Shock, that would sadly wear off sooner rather then later. And if anything is worse then the shock, it's the intensity of the first few moments without the shock. He was going to snap out of it at some point, at it was going to be hell.

As I reached my room, I pulled on some shorts, rubbed the makeup off my eyes, and crawling into bed. The last thing that echoed through my mind before my head shut down were Jimmy's words.

"someone around here will." jimmy answered. "Someone always dies"

So hey, you should review :]

Because that would be, like better then a unicorn made out of frosting!