Act Two: The A Team

They scream

The worst things in life come free to us

And we're all under the upper hand

Go mad for a couple grams

And we don't wanna go outside tonight

And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland

Or sell love to another man

It's too cold outside

For angels to fly

The A Team - Ed Sheeran

I walk through the doors of the Shady Oaks Rehabilitation Center and head for the front desk. The receptionist smiles at me and I try to lessen my frown a bit.

"Oh hi there, Grimmjow! So nice to see you," she chirps, cheerily.

"You as well, Nelliel. Is my mother in?" I ask, and Nelliel looks down at a clipboard before she nods.

"She most certainly is. In fact, you caught her between patients, so she should be in her office." I nod, thanking Nelliel before stepping around the desk and walking down the corridor.

My mother, Anaïs Jaegerjaquez, has been a doctor for upwards of twenty years. She started out working in the hospital, but switched over to the rehabilitation center about ten years ago. She's always loved helping people for as long as I can remember, so really she couldn't have a more perfect job.

I knock on her door softly, and I hear her sweet voice grant me permission to come into the office. I walk inside and she smiles brightly, standing up and practically running to hug me.

"Grimmjow, mon fils!"

"Bonjour, Maman," I say, hugging her tightly. She lets go, touching her index finger to the tip of my nose and ruffling my hair.

"How is my beautiful baby boy?" she asks as she returns to her desk chair. I sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"I'm fine, Maman. I'm here because I have a friend who needs help." A look of concern crosses her features as she leans forward, placing her hands on her desk. "It's not me, I swear."

"Oh thank goodness. You had me worried! Who is it, then?"

"Uh. . ." Only now do I realize how impossible it is to explain this situation. I don't even know his name. I suppose I should've asked, but then again, he probably would've given me a fake one.

"Come now, Grimmjow, out with it."

"It's. . .there's this guy who comes in the club a lot. I found him in the alley early this morning when I was heading home. He needs help, Maman."

"But does he want help?"

I raise an eyebrow at that. What did she mean? If he needs help, and I know he does, shouldn't that be enough?

"Darling, you cannot help someone that does not wish to be helped. I've witnessed that quite a few times in the decade that I've worked here. They will only get help when they feel that they need it."

I know she's right, but I can't accept that. I have to help him, or something worse than the incident in the alley is going to happen.

"Isn't there something I can do? Anything?" I ask, nearly pleading. My mom sighs, and runs a hand through her long silver hair. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a notebook, sliding it across the desk to me.

"Have him write in this everyday for a week. Make sure he actually does too; you don't have to read it, just look and see if there's something written for each day. Then, bring him in to see me." She grabs an appointment card, scribbling a date and time on it. "What's his name, love?" I shrug and she rolls her eyes toward the ceiling. She gives me the card. "Get his name and then call back and Nelliel will get his appointment set up."

I nod and get up, stepping around the desk to hug my mother again.

"Merci, Maman," I say, and she smiles, telling me I'm welcome. I leave her office and wave to Nelliel before I walk out the front door.

My head lolls to the side, and I jolt awake, looking around as if I'm seeing this apartment for the first time. I tug limply against the handcuff around my wrist and frown. This is so stupid. How could I let myself be captured by someone who wears cotton candy on their head? I need to get to a phone, but first I have to get out of these stupid handcuffs. Why does he even have these? Is he a cop or something?

I chuckle to myself at that dumb thought and twist my wrist around a bit, gauging whether or not I can slide my hand out. Of course I can't, but I suppose it was worth a try. I look around the room to see if there's something within reach that I can use to get the cuffs off. There's a table next to his couch with a few office supplies on it; I'm sure there's a paperclip in the mix somewhere. Stretching my leg out as far as I can, I stick my foot out and hook it around the leg of the table. It takes a bit of effort, but I manage to pull it close enough for me to reach it. There's a small container full of writing utensils, and I dump it out, spreading the contents on the table. I cheer quietly when I find a paperclip. I reach around to my other hand so that I can use both of them to straighten the small piece of metal out. Once I've got it straight, I stick the end of it into the keyhole and bend it, repeating the action until I've made a makeshift key out of the paperclip. I wiggle the thing around in the hole and sigh in relief when the things pop open. I rub my wrist as I stand up, looking around the room for my phone. I see his hoodie on the back of a kitchen chair, and I grab it, pulling my phone out of the pocket. I quickly turn it on ignoring the spazzing from the notifications and dialing Shinji's number.

"Hello? Ichi? Where are ya?" he answers almost immediately. I can tell he's hella hungover, but I can hear the worry in his voice as well.

"You'll never guess what happened, fam," I say, as I put on the jacket.

"Well, I'd prefer if you told me, so I won't have to guess."

"Ha ha. Alright, I'm -"

I stop in my tracks as the front door - which I'd just been reaching for - swings open. The blue-haired bartender stares me down sternly, and I know I'm in trouble.

"Shit."

"What is it, Ichi? Ya can't just stop in the middle of ya sentence like that."

"I'll call you back in a sec, okay?"

I cut Shinji off and slide my phone into my pocket, crossing my arms over my chest and matching my captor's gaze.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks, grumpily, and I frown.

"I was just leaving," I respond.

"No you weren't."

"You can't make me stay here. That's kidnapping, which is a crime."

"You don't need to be around those friends of yours. They're only enabling you."

"Who are you to tell me what I need? Some fucking rich son of a bitch looking to clean me up and make me your new trophy huh?" He frowns at this but I keep going. "I'm already sick to death of this shit, man. Just get out of my way. I don't want your help!" I yell. Cotton candy head steps toward me, and I step back. He closes the door and leans against it. That's when I realize that he's holding something. A book? Well, it doesn't matter since I'm not staying here.

"This is the beginning of your treatment," he states, as if I didn't just yell at him. He holds up the notebook. "You have to write something in here every day for a week."

"Oh hell no," I quip, shaking my head. "C'mon, get outta my way."

"I won't read what you write, but you have to write something every day." Is he fucking ignoring me?

"Look, I'm not writing in some diary like a fucking teenage girl. I'm a grown ass man."

"After a week, I'll take it to the doctor and she'll set up an official appointment for you."

"Stop fucking ignoring me, you asshole! You don't know anything about me!" I exclaim. Blue looks at me then, seemingly surprised by my outburst. "I don't know who you think you are, but I am so serious right now. Either you get out of my way, or I will try my best to kick your ass. I don't want your help, I don't need your help, and I didn't ask for your help. I want to be left alone. Do you understand me? Leave me alone."

The last part of my statement comes out as a growl, and I see something in my captor's eyes that makes me sick to my stomach. Pity. He purses his lips before he steps to the side allowing me to pass. I open the door quickly and make my way down the hall. I hear him say something faintly but I can't make out what it is. It doesn't matter though. I'm getting out of here while I've got the chance.

I avoid the elevator, opting to take the stairs instead. I pull my phone out and dial Shinji's number.

"Where are you, Ichi?" he asks.

"I don't know, Shin. I think I'm still near the club," I respond, turning a corner on a familiar street.

"I'm in Jacksonville." I gasp, almost dropping my phone as I halt in my tracks. That's more than a hundred miles away.

"Shin, what are you doing there?"

"I. . .I don't remember how we got here, but Ran is here with me. Do you still have your key to my apartment?" I pat my pockets and sigh in defeat.

"No, I think I left them at. . ." Shit.

"Where were you?" Shin asks. I don't want to tell him.

"I'm still in Raleigh. Look, I'm going to see if I can get a bus or something back to my place. I have a spare key there. You and Ran try to get back safely, alright?"

"Yeah, her brother's on his way to get us. We'll see you soon."

I hang up the phone and slump down to the ground, suddenly weighed down by how much shit I'm in. When did my life become this? Waking up a mess, not knowing where I am or who I've been with, doing nothing but getting high, and higher to avoid the lows. It shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be like this, but I am. My mom wouldn't like this. I guess it's a good thing she isn't here to see it.

I lean my head back against the dirty wall, looking up at the sky. I know I need help, but I don't know if I'm ready yet. I'm not ready to face all my demons. I guess I'm scared. I've been running from my past for so long, that I don't even know if I have the ability to face it anymore. The things I've done; the people I've hurt, the damage just doesn't seem reparable. I don't think I could possibly fix anything about my life at this point. I'm so messed up and I don't have anyone to blame but myself.

I feel bad about yelling at that guy. His intentions were good, no matter how messed up his methods were. I shouldn't drag him into my bullshit though. He doesn't need me in his life. No one does.

Here is an update on this for you all. I'll admit, I'm having a hard time with this, since I haven't written much like it before; however, that doesn't mean I'm not having fun. I like this story a lot, and I'm looking forward to writing more of it. Thank you to all who are reading and reviewing. I'm glad I could entertain you.

Until next time,

Patd06