There will be music from 1997+.

It's getting harder and harder to write this stuff. No matter what I write, I get to shaking real bad like and it feels like I'm nearing a panic attack. I'm trying to write this shit but I just don't know anymore.

Didn't reread it.

Finn took a deep breath and counted to ten in an attempt to calm himself. He lifted his eyes to meet Kester's who was now sitting across from him.

"I, uh… I played a lot of football with the guys, hung out at the pub and wherever else with the gang, lots of boxing…" he shrugged. "And there's a new girl in the gang."

Kester tilted his head to the slide slightly and crossed his legs, his hands resting in his lap as he spoke. "What do you think of this new girl?"

"She's…" Finn was at a loss for words.

"How about her name for now, yeah?"

"Rae," Finn smiled as he looked out the window trying to conceal his upturned lips.

If Kester saw it (which he undoubtedly would have), he didn't say anything for which Finn was grateful.

"How are you coping with another person?"

Finn bit his lip and stared at his shaking hands. His anxiety would run on high and cause constant and uncontrollable tremors to run through his body and his voice to go weak. The words were always harder to get out after that point but his concentration on saying the words or even forming coherent thoughts waivered with the pointless attempt at calming himself. He let his head fall to his chest as he brought his hands to his head and dragged them roughly through his hair again and again whilst trying to control the breathing that was now becoming a problem.

"Finn, try to just breathe." Well, no shit, fucking Sherlock!

He grit his teeth and closed his eyes as tight as he could.

Why was he having such a reaction to a simple question? Why couldn't he just be a normal person and not be riddled with anxiety constantly?

It took him ten minutes to regroup. He was still shaking slightly, but he was breathing steadily and reached into his satchel to grab a water bottle that he drained within seconds.

"Why bother getting attached to people when you know they're going to leave you at some point?" he asked gruffly. "I can't handle that. I've already got plenty of people I'll never let go. I've got me da', me nan, Izzy, Havok, the rest of the gang… That's all I need!"

He'd left one person out on purpose. He didn't want to admit he was already attached beyond belief to Rae despite only knowing her for about 24 hours. He couldn't right handle that today.

"What about this Rae, though? She's joined in with you and your mates and it seems like she'll be around for a while."

Fuck.

Finn looked up and glared at Kester. "I don't fucking know," he said slowly. "For all we know, I could be the one leaving instead."

Kester leaned his head back as if challenging Finn. "What do you mean by that, Finn?"

Finn bit his lower lip and it slide from between his teeth as he sneered. "Nothing."

He turned his head to his left to stare at the window to outside, to freedom, as he unconsciously began scratching at his arms where the scars he carved into his arms rest beneath his sleeves. One crept to the skin over his heart as he watched a squirrel scamper around the branches of a tree.

"Answer me, Finn," Kester said gently.

His eyes stayed on the squirrel as unwanted tears rolled down his red cheeks but he didn't bother trying to wipe them away or make them stop.

"Finn," Kester prompted again.

"I'm scared, okay?!" he shouted.

It went silent.

"It's been 12 years but I'm still scared. I'm scared about how much I care for Rae already." He swallowed hard and continued in a whisper. "I'm scared of life." Tears were flowing at a faster pace as he turned to Kester. "What if I never get better?"

"It's a lifelong process. If you keep working-"

"How long do I have to fear going to sleep? I just want it all to stop! I want to be able to go to sleep and not have to wake up at 4 in the morning with Havok's slobber all over my face because I was having another nightmare! I get about two hours each night."

"Have you been taking your-"

"Fuck the medication! Four tablets to get to sleep so I can have nightmares and another two in the morning along with the vitamins. They don't work," he pleaded with Kester to understand.

"I'll speak with Dr. Nick about the meds. Right now, what else is on your mind? Out of everything, what is the most prominent?" he forward with his elbows resting on his legs with his hands clasped together.

Finn thought for a moment, scratching at his arms again.

"Why does no one love me?" he asked quietly.

"You have many people who love you, Finn. Those that you said you'd never let go… they'll never let you go either."

"But no one will ever be in love with me. When they see my scars and know about the last 17 years, they'll turn and run. Who would love someone as messed up as me?"

"One thing that you need to understand is that people can accept you for who you are or they can fuck off. What about Izzy? Did she run away from you or is she still here?"

"No." Finn smiled as he thought of his precious Izzy. "She cried and hugged me – her eyes matched her hair. Said if I ever tried to kill myself again she'd knock me arse out," he let out a small laugh before moving his eyes back to Kester. "But she's me best mate. I don't love her like that."

"No, but she's still here, isn't she?"

Finn nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, she is," he said as he tried to wipe away the tears that just kept flowing.

"Is that what you want? To be in love?"

"I just want to love someone who loves me back just the same and spend the rest of our lives together. I want to be normal."

"You are normal, Finn. Your scars don't define you. That's how you learned to cope with your past and your emotions. But, now, now you're learning to change that."

Finn examined his covered arms. "But they'll always be there… They're the only way to make it stop even for a little bit. I can't even sleep to get away from it all! I just know one way to make it go away forever," he sobbed. "I don't even know if I want to try to 'work on it' anymore."

"Don't give up hope. There will be a day in the future when you're in love and you're doing better. Push yourself to get there. You just have to work for it."

The only thing Finn could hear was his pulse in his ears as his hands moved from his hair so he could check the time on his watch. Without a 'goodbye,' he grabbed his satchel and strode quickly out the door, letting it slam behind him.

He avoided his reflection in any surface as he made his way to his motorcycle and pulled the helmet over his head. He straddled the bike and clenched his fingers as the shaking started again.

"Stop!" he yelled. "Cazzo!"

He turned the key and kick started the bike as the visor slowly fogged up and clouded his vision. He gave the throttle a twist in neutral, his adrenaline pumping with the feel of the engine rumbling between his calves, before changing gears and speeding off.

He pulled recklessly into his driveway beside his dad's car and angrily shut off the engine. Storming into the house, he ignored his dad's greeting and (hoarsely) called for Havok as he made his way up the stairs but first stopping in the bathroom. He braced his hands on the sink and stared at his face in the mirror for a moment. His eyes were bright red and puffy, irritated from the contacts' dislike for tears and his attempts to clear them. The skin on his cheeks was rough and stung slightly at the wetness. He heard Havok running up the stairs and felt him nudge his thigh with his head as he removed his contacts slowly, shakily putting them into the solution. He blinked and sighed in relief at the contact-less feel.

Finn followed Havok blindly to his room and stopped at his stereo to put in what he named his 'Bad Day' mixtape (a red cassette that he could easily make out without his glasses or contacts) and turned the volume up loud. After getting irritated at trying to knock his shoes off his feet, he gave a hard kick making it go flying and hit the wall with a loud bang before dropping to the floor and repeating with the left shoe. He recklessly grabbed at things on his desk and threw them at the wall and let them join his discarded shoe whilst random sheet music and notes flew around before softly swishing back and forth to the floor. He joined Havok, whose paws covered his eyes, on the bed and lay down on his stomach with his head buried in his pillow as he let out a wretched scream. Havok whined and licked Finn's cheek comfortingly before resting his head on Finn's bent elbow.

Mr. Nelson stood in the kitchen staring at the kettle as he made a brew. He wished he could just make everything better for his son so he wouldn't have to go through anything like this ever again. He would always come home and do this after sessions with Kester. And whilst he knew that it was illegal, he wished he could talk to Kester himself about Finn and what was going on so he could try and understand. He's been trying his best to be supportive and the greatest dad to Finn but there was a lot that was out of his reach. The whistle of the kettle brought him out of his stupor. He made sure to grab a large mug and carefully walked it up the stairs to Finn's room and placed it on his night table. He took a moment to look at Finn sadly before he turned and went back downstairs.

Finn slowly sat up and reached for the mug and sipped at it. He looked at Havok lying next to him on his back with his tongue hanging lazily out of his mouth whilst he stared back at him. Finn laughed softly and rubbed his belly as he worked on the tea. He was about three-quarters done and playing tug-of-war with Havok on his bed when the phone rang and his dad yelled that it was Izzy on the line.

"Hiya," she greeted when he picked up.

"Alright, Iz?" His voice was still rather hoarse.

"Film or talk?"

He paused to think. "Film," he said finally.

"See ya in a few," Izzy said softly before hanging up.

He didn't bother with his boots but easily slipped on a pair of ratty plimsolls as he sat on his bed. Havok sat in front of him and laid his head on Finn's knees. Finn gently ran his knuckles from his muzzle to between his eyes before laying his own head atop his pup's.

Swiping a pair of his glasses from his desk, he made his way downstairs where Mr. Nelson was making himself a snack in the kitchen. Finn walked up to him and wrapped him in a hug around the waist.

"Love you, Da'," he said as his dad held Finn's head to his shoulder and pressed a kiss to his hair as he stood another eight inches taller.

"Love you too, m'boy."

"Can I borrow the car? It's annoying wearing glasses with the helmet on."

"I don't know if I want you driving while you're like this, Finn. What about I drive you instead?" he offered.

Finn shook his head. "I'll be fine," he said. "I'm fine."

Mr. Nelson sighed and nodded. "Ring me when you get there and before you leave. You gonna be home for tea?"

"Yeah."

Before Finn got his licence, he was just like any other teenager. He couldn't wait for the day until he could just drive himself instead of having to rely on his dad or public transport to get from place to place. However, that honeymoon phase wore of quickly when he was constantly waiting at red lights and stop signs and the long road trips just kept getting longer and longer. He still couldn't get to places fast enough and found driving a nuisance. Except when on the motorcycle and could bypass traffic and laugh at those sat waiting.

Today was another one of those days. He wished he could just snap his fingers and be at Izzy's as he slowed for yet another stop during the five minute drive to her house. That should be something. Not teleporting per se but just… twist a wand, think of where you want to be and then BAM! There you are. Wand twisting is optional, of course, but maybe for a bit of flare. They should put that in a book.

Finn rolled his eyes at himself and his senseless (yet creative) inner dialogue as he slowed to a stop outside Izzy's house. He didn't get to knock before the door was thrown open and he was wrapped in the umpteenth hug of the day. But he didn't mind. As much as he didn't like people touching him, there were always a few exceptions – just like those with access to know who Finn really is (or to put it rather sappy-like: those who he let in his heart).

He thought that the whole talking-with-his-hands thing was similar to touching. He was generally quiet but when he did blabber on, he used his hands to be more expressive; he wasn't keen on being touched, but he showed affection with his body – at least, with the girls; not so much with Chop and Archie. One thing he craved for from a relationship was touch. To hold on and never let go.

So when Izzy threw her arms around him, he reciprocated enthusiastically and planted a kiss to her head.

"I love your eyes," she said causing him to blush. "I wish you didn't wear those contacts all the time."

"My eyes are weird." She shook her head at him.

"How are ya, babes?" she asked as she led him into her bedroom where she had a film already set to play in the VCR.

"Not the greatest," he answered honestly as he made his way onto Izzy's bed and atop her purple and black duvet. "What are we watching?"

He wasn't unfamiliar to Izzy's house or her room. In fact, this was sort of a tradition the two had formed; the same night of Finn's therapy, they'd crash for a few hours at either house.

She grabbed the popcorn from her desk and made her way to join Finn on the bed. "I couldn't decide," she shrugged. "Ended up doing eenie-meenie until it ended on Clueless."

Finn raised a brow and looked at her suspiciously as he snagged a handful of popcorn. "And what did it really land on?"

She sighed and dropped her shoulders making him laugh. "Indiana Jones," she mumbled.

"That's what I thought," he said. "Go change it, brat. Temple of Doom."

"Figa," he heard her say under her breath.

"Watch your mouth!" he admonished.

(He grinned proudly when her back was turned.)

It was when the trio had found tunnels when Izzy couldn't hold back and wanted to bring up his session.

"How bad was it?" she asked quietly.

Finn pursed his lips and thought before responding. "I hate crying," he answered, feeling pathetic. His eyes were still focused on the screen though his head was filled with replays of earlier.

Izzy tried to change the mood. "What do you think about Rae?" she asked excitedly as she poked him in the side causing him to squirm.

He was smiling again. He just couldn't help it. Although he'd definitely rather his head be filled with the image of her iridescent eyes and hypnotizing voice instead of Kester and his elephant ears that Finn could swear had some crazy James Bond device that enabled him to hear his patients' thoughts in order to make them weep hysterically at every therapy session.

Izzy gasped and poked him again. "You like her!" she exclaimed.

Finn stilled. "No," he said tersely.

"C'mon, babes. I know you better than that. You like Rae, don't ya?" Finn spared her a glance and was awarded with a bright white grin and wide eyes.

"I don't, okay?"

"But what about her long, silky black hair? You know you want to run your hands through it!" She stopped and looked down at her own hands. "Hell, I want to run my hands through it. It looks so soft."

"I can't like her! Okay?" he exploded at her.

Izzy was taken aback. "Why not?"

"Because I can't get attached when things are going to end badly!" Ugh. It was just like earlier.

"What do you mean, Finn?" she put her hand on his arm.

"I just can't! Nothing lasts forever so why bother try starting something?"

"Because there is no such thing as forever! It doesn't exist except as an ideal! That's why it's 'til death do us part.' There are animals like the wolves, for example, that mate for life. Humans are always looking for something so perfect, so ideal that they complicate things; and no, sometimes it doesn't last but you have to give it a shot. If we hadn't developed speech, if we hadn't created this ideal of 'love' then we wouldn't worry about this crap. But we did! So you have to go through trial and error until you find your 'forever', if you ever even do find it. So don't feed me this bullshit, Finnigan Seamus Nelson!"

Finn stared at her with wide blue and green eyes whilst she took a breath and grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

"Go Izzy," she said to herself as she tossed a piece in her mouth, her attention focused back on the film.

"She's brilliant," he whispered. "She's funny and has a wicked taste in music." He turned sharply and pointed a finger at her. "Dare you ever say that to anyone, I shall outright deny it."

"You know I'd never do that."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

"What are ya gonna do?"

"I'm going to try and be her friend," he decided.