A/N: Hey, look - I'm not dead! Here's a little early Christmas present for anyone who's still reading this story! There's a bit of language in this chapter...just a forewarning.

In less than an hour, Sean found himself once again in the lobby of Mr. Peterson's office, this time accompanied by Tracker. Mr. Peterson had been able to squeeze them in for an emergency appointment. It seemed to Sean that he was causing a lot of emergencies lately.

"Tracker, Sean. I can see you now." The wait was shorter this time, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Sean. Maybe the more dysfunctional you were, the quicker you could be seen.

Once inside the office, Sean sat in the same chair as he had the other day. Tracker took his normal spot across the room. The positions were familiar, and for the second time, Sean felt his stomach lurch at the familiarity of the situation.

"So, Sean, Tracker," Peter interrupted Sean's thoughts, "why don't you tell me what's been going on? It's been awhile since I've had both of you in my office."

Tracker shook his head. "I don't know what else to do." He stared directly at Sean. "He just won't stop lying or drinking. And he's fighting again." He hesitated and dropped his voice. "I thought we had moved past all that."

Peter turned to Sean, waiting for a response, but none came. "Sean, why don't you tell us about what's been going on?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well you better know something!" Tracker was irate, and didn't hold back the anger that had built up the last few weeks. "I'm taking time off work to baby-sit you because you can't be trusted, you're drinking, suspended from school – you better have something to say!"

Sean stood up. "Fuck you, Tracker! I didn't ask to be here! I –"

"Now," Peter interrupted the tirade, "let's all calm down. We need to discuss this, but yelling and swearing won't do us any good." Sean had made his way to the door and had his hand perched on the handle. "Sean, why don't you sit back down so we can discuss this?"

Sean thought of saying exactly what was on his mind, which consisted mostly of telling Peter where he could go, but thought better of it. He hesitated, and barely whispered, "I have to pee."

Peter nodded, and Sean continued on his path. Once outside the office, he walked straight by the receptionist desk, through the lobby and out the front door. He just couldn't deal with anything right now.

Once out of the office, Sean wasn't sure where he was going. He stopped at a corner drug store and slipped the young cashier an extra five bucks to sell him a pack of cigarettes. It wasn't something he did often, but if he didn't do something with his hands, he was going to end up punching someone. He figured the cigarettes were less trouble.

Sean sat down on the curb near the alley and lit a cigarette. He was half way through his second cigarette, his anger just starting to ease away, when a familiar voice called his name.

"Sean?"

He turned around, while trying to crush out his cigarette at the same time, but it was too late. "Hey, Joey."

Joey shook his head. "That's a disgusting habit."

Sean nodded, not really sure what else to say. He wondered if Joey would make him throw away his pack.

"What are you doing out here, besides breaking the law? I thought you were grounded."

Sean stared at his feet and wished he hadn't put out his cigarette so quickly. He shrugged in response to Joey's question. "I needed some air."

"Does Tracker know where you are?"

Sean cursed under his breath. He really wished people would mind their own damn business. "I'm sure he has an idea."

Joey hesitated. He knew that Sean had often been called a troublemaker, but he had always liked him. He had always been respectful to Joey, and he was a good friend to Craig. "Sean, is everything okay?"

He was so tired of hearing that question. Of course things weren't okay. Would he be where he was if things were? He nodded. "Yah, I'm fine. Thanks."

"Well, why don't you let me take you home? I'm sure Tracker's worried."

"No thanks. I'll walk."

"Won't take no for an answer." He pulled his keys out of his pocket. "Let's go."

Sean reluctantly followed Joey to his car, his cigarettes clutched in his left hand. "Um, Tracker's not exactly waiting for me at home."

"He's not?"

"I sort of walked out on him and my social worker." His head was hung low. "Could you take me back?"

Joey nodded. "Sure buddy." He held out his hand. "It will only cost you one pack of cigarettes."

Sean handed over his pack, remorseful that he hadn't been more careful with them. "Are you going to tell Tracker about this?"

Joey shook his head as he backed out of his parking spot. "I trust you will."

Sean sighed and sat back in his seat. It seem his life kept getting harder and harder. What was Tracker going to say when he walked back in? For about the millionth time that week, he wished he had a drink.