Here is the 3rd Chapter, after what feels like forever I finally managed to upload it.
I´ve got a writer´s block influencing the 5th Chapter (6th when you count in the prologue) since an eternity and after a while I somehow forgot about this story.

Thankfully, the review of a mysterious guest made me trying to work on this again.
Many thanks to this person. Well one of your questions will be partly solved in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Cheaper by the Dozen, nor do I own the song used at the beginning, "Crooked Teeth" by "Death Cab for Cutie". Also the title is lent form a movie title. Sadly, I never saw the movie, I only found the title fitting. No rights belong to me. Only the idea is mine.

Author´s Note: English is not my native language and sadly I do not have a beta. I am sorry for mistakes. If there are any, tell me, I´ll correct them.

3rd Chapter

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

I´m the war of head versus heart
and it´s always this way
my head is weak and my heart always speaks,
before I know what it will say
(Death Cab for Cutie – Crooked Teeth)

After he left the bathroom, he had headed immediately for his old room.

It looked still the same, beside the fact that it was too tidy. When he still lived here, Jakes room would never be tidied up, clothes and school books always lying on the floor, his CDs lying upon another in the corner by his stereo.

Now his bed had been done and nothing lay in his way while he stumbled into his room, letting himself falling on the bed tiredly.

His mouth tasted funny, but he didn´t care.

Sure if he wanted he could have asked his mother for a tooth brush, but nowadays Jake was used to the sticky taste in his mouth. His nose was still running and his eyes were watering the whole time.

He knew that he should probably get some sleep, but now that he was alone, he could not focus due to the steady shaking that grew from just being in his right leg to his hands and shoulders.

He was restless, not being able to find a comfortable position, shifting every five seconds.

Jakes mind raced, trying to get an idea how to get himself calm, but he could not think clearly, his fingers willed to scratch the crooks of his arms, that were itching horribly.

He had no idea how long he had been out cold in the hospital, how many hours had passed since he took his last shot, since he wandered along the railroad.
It did not matter. He was home now. Perhaps it was the time to restart it all. To get away.

The thought somehow lulled him, making him fall into slumber again, blocking out the itching and the cold spills running through his body.

Something back in his head told him, that falling asleep wouldn´t help the itching, nor the uncomfortable feeling he´d had since he´d entered this house that was supposed to be his home. That it would grow worse.

But sleep was stronger.

~cbtd~cbtd~cbtd~cbtd~cbtd

He woke up by the sound of voices.

For a moment he was disorientated, not knowing where he was, until he recognized the chamber he was in as his old room, telling him that he was home, night already falling outside his window.

He could not tell how long he had slept, but somehow the itching on his arms was gone, even if the trembling of his leg had grown stronger.

He sat up, trying to focus as the world started spinning as he rose from his sitting position and made his way to the door.
Somehow he was feeling way better. Jake smiled to himself, until he got a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror hanging on his wardrobe. He looked pathetic.

His smile froze as he left the room and made his way downstairs. The voices came out of the kitchen, but as soon as Jake entered, they fell silent.
His youngest brothers, Mike, Nigel and Kyle were home, sitting at the counter alongside his parents and Jessica.

"Hey Jake", one of the twins said – Jake couldn´t even tell if it was Nigel or Kyle – and the other one just smiled shyly.
"Hey", he said, his voice being raspy.
"You´re thirsty, Jake?", Jessica asked.

He just nodded, trying to make eye contact with Mike, who had suddenly stiffened in his position. How old was he right now? Fifteen? Sixteen? Jake did not really know. His mind couldn´t focus on things like that anymore.

He sat down far away from his family, avoiding their gazes. Jessica set a cup of water in front of him, probably she thought that cups were easier to hold then a glass, and rushed out of the room, mumbling something about the bathroom and being back soon.

An uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen after she left, until his father finally broke it.
"How are you feeling, Jake?"
They all knew it was a stupid question. Hell, he already experienced withdrawal, so what was he supposed to say? But Jake was thankful for the tries.
"Okay, I guess." Considering the circumstances.

But it seemed to be the wrong words. Suddenly Mike just snored loudly and jumped of his chair. "Sure. Everything is alright. Just come back as nothing happened, Jake."
With those words he left the kitchen, seconds later they could hear the front door open and close.

"Don´t listen to him, Jakey", his mother said.
If this would have been so easy.

~cbtd~cbtd~cbtd~cbtd~cbtd~

It was a fight. It always was. A fight between the Good and the Bad, between head and heart.
His head knowing he needed to stay. His heart feeling that he couldn´t. It wasn´t feeling right. This house. Being a part of this family again, the family he left behind all those month ago.

Maybe it was the right time now. The time to try out.
But he wasn´t ready to.

The fight went on for hours, never leaving him alone, as the slight trembling in his leg wasn´t. This brought a third party into the battle. The ugly one: Withdrawals.
His need for heroin grew stronger within the next hours, not letting him go back to sleep, while the whole city grew silent.

Right now he was seated with his back against the door of his room. Darkness creeping over, grabbing out for him, like dirty hands that wanted to get him.
His heart raced and his head kept spinning, while it constantly repeated a single phrase like a mantra. Stay focused, stay focused. Don´t give in. Stay focused.

His stomach cramped, making him feel sick again. If only it wouldn´t be so hard, if only it wouldn´t hurt that much, if only his parents hadn´t brought him home, if only he hadn´t been so stupid to walk along a damn railroad.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and for the first time within days he felt able to focus again. Within seconds he stood up, grabbed an old school bag and filled it with clothes.
Then he opened his door without making a sound, sneaking downstairs into the living room. There was the cupboard with the photo of his great-great-grandmother, left side, last drawer. It had a false bottom. Jake opened it carefully and smiled as he saw the content of the drawer. His parents were still so stupid and placed their secret money reservoir in here.

He emptied it halfway, filling his pockets with one, five and twenty dollar notes, and then he put the rest into his old school bag and rose to his feet.

To his surprise the front door was locked. "Shit", he whispered to himself and sneaked upstairs again. In front of his window stood a huge old maple tree.

Jake opened the window, shouldered his bag and climbed on the tree, slowly making his way to the ground. The last branch hung about seven feet over the ground. Jake took a deep breath and jumped.

He did not land perfectly, surely because of his trembling leg, causing him to twist his right ankle. Jake swore, then settled his bag right and began hobbling through the he reached the street, he bit on his lip, ignored the constant throbbing in his ankle and started running.
"I´m coming back, Wendy", he whispered to himself. "Don´t worry. We´ll be fine."

Please review.