A/N: Okay, so I've gone beyond my claim of just a few more chapters. You don't mind do you?

Sean sat anxiously in the waiting room of Mr. Peterson's office. He was now officially twenty minutes late. Why did he think he would have time to stop at Craig's? He fidgeted with the magazine he held but wasn't reading. Mr. Peterson was going to have a cow. He was sure of it. And that was nothing compared to what Tracker was going to say when he saw Sean's face.

"Sean?" Mr. Peterson was standing in front of him now. "Are you ready?"

He didn't say anything, but followed Mr. Peterson back to his office. It had been awhile since Sean had been here. When Tracker first agreed to allow Sean to live with him, legal arrangements had dictated that Sean be placed with a social worker. Mr. Peterson was appointed to keep tabs on the home arrangement and occasionally, provide counseling to both Sean and Tracker. There were a lot of visits in those first months, but gradually, the two adjusted, and Mr. Peterson was less involved, though no less interested or concerned.

Sean sat down in the leather chair that he had claimed as his own in those first few months of counseling. The whole scene was just too familiar to Sean. He felt overwhelmed and his stomach lurched at the painful memories.

Mr. Peterson sat down across from him, with Sean's case folder in his hands. "Looks like you've been fighting again."

As it wasn't a question, but a statement of fact, Sean wasn't sure how to respond. He continued to stare at his shoes, lost for words.

He settled on a different approach. "Running a little late this afternoon aren't we?"

"Sorry Mr. Peterson. I…" he trailed off, not sure what to say next.

"Call me Peter."

Sean looked up. "Your name's Peter Peterson?" Sean was annoyed that he had never known this peculiar fact, but he wasn't sure why.

"Well, I guess my parents thought they were quite funny."

Sean smiled. His social worker always did have a way of breaking the ice.

"Now, why don't we get down to business. You've been having a rough time lately?"

The smile quickly faded away. "I guess I don't know where to start."

"How about we start with why you're so late and how your face ended up being used as a punching bag."

Sean hesitated for a moment, then launched into the whole story. He never stopped, and he never looked up for fear that he might lose his courage. When he was finished, he sat back and closed his eyes, thankful that it was over.

Now it was time for Peter to ask questions. "Does Tracker know about the suspension?"

Sean shook his head. "Not yet."

"How do you think he'll react?"

"Are you kidding? I think he's gonna kill me."

"Why do you think that? Do you feel he's been unreasonable about your punishment so far?"

He thought for a minute. Actually, Tracker had been very understanding and quite lenient on Sean. He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'm not sure."

"Sean, I'd like you to come back and see me again next week so we can talk about this some more."

"No offense, but I don't want to do the whole counseling thing again. It's just too much."

"I understand, but I think it would be best." He stood and handed Sean a paper from his desk.

"What's this?" Sean studied the paper.

"It's a list of local AA meetings. I thought it might be in your best interest to check one out."

He shook his head. "I'm not an alcoholic."

"No, maybe not, but you're certainly at a high risk here, wouldn't you say?" He paused. "If you're not comfortable with that, then I would highly recommend you attend an Alateen meeting. It's for teens who are dealing with an alcoholic friend or relative."

Sean shrugged and shoved the paper in his bag. "Maybe."

"That's all I can ask." He showed Sean out of the office. "Same time next week?" Sean nodded. "Call me if you need anything."

Sean muttered his thanks and left the building quickly. Once he was outside, he let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. His whole day was really working on his nerves. His hands were shaking. He needed to get a hold of himself.

He still hadn't calmed down by the time he reached home. The fear of Tracker's reaction to his suspension and the indignation of Peter implying that he had a drinking problem had really shaken him up. If only he had something to calm his nerves.

Sean threw his bag into his bedroom and picked up the phone to call Tracker at work. A woman with a gentle voice answered and Sean waited patiently while she found his brother

"Hello?"

"Hey Tracker, it's me."

"How was your meeting?"

"Fine."

"Okay, I'll be home in an hour or so. Get started on your homework. No TV. You're grounded remember."

"I know."

Sean said good bye and hung up the phone. He mentally kicked himself for not mentioning the fight. If he told him now, he would have time to cool down before he got home, and he wouldn't be so shocked at Sean's appearance. For a minute he considered calling him back, but decided against it. No, he would just have to wait now. No need irritating him at work with endless phone calls. Besides, Sean wasn't sure how to start the conversation anyway.

Sean laid down on his bed. He was shaking again. He really just needed to calm himself down. If only he could have one drink, just one. It would help him calm his nerves. He sighed and sat up. Without another thought he grabbed his knapsack from the closet and pulled out a beer. Tracker had trusted Sean to turn over all of his alcohol. He should have known better. Actually, Sean was surprised that Tracker hadn't performed an all out search of his bedroom. Sean had a small twinge of guilt for lying, but he felt it was really Tracker's fault for being so careless.

Sean opened the can and took in a long drink. He felt calmed instantly. He closed his eyes and laid down on the bed. As it did every time, the alcohol soothed his nerves. It really was a relief after a hard day. It was always there for him. And a few drinks now and then didn't make him an alcoholic. He just wished everyone would stop nagging him about it. He knew what he was doing.