Disclaimer: I still don't own this.



It must really blow to be you: Breakthrough

*****

So, it's been another week in the hell that is my life and my shrink says I had a breakthrough. If, in some bizarre world inhabited by psychologists, "breakthrough" means "I freaked out and almost had a mental collapse in his office" then, yeah, I guess I had a breakthrough.

I've been going to these pointless meetings three times a week. I never tell him anything. I just sit there in silence for an hour, answering all his questions by shrugging, until he says time is up. This day was different though. It should have been a normal Sunday. My parents dropped me off at his office and I took a seat on the couch. As he was closing the door, I realized how desperately I did not want the door to be closed. It wasn't that I was afraid of being alone with him. I just couldn't stand the thought of being trapped in another room. I couldn't say anything, though. It felt like my throat had closed up and I couldn't breathe. I suppose being locked in my room for a week made me claustrophobic. I was hyperventilating. The doctor asked me if I was all right and if I could breathe. I shook my head no, unable to force enough breath out of me to make words. He calmly opened the window and door and I tried to get my breathing under control.

He waited patiently for me to calm down. I looked at him, half expecting to see one of those pity-concern looks that Delilah always gives me in the hallway at school when she isn't around anyone. I don't see it. Instead he's got no readible expression at all, the perfect "I'm a professional" look. And I just crack up laughing. I couldn't help it. After a minute I couldn't tell if I was laughing or sobbing. I buried my face in my hands. Yeah, I was crying now. The dam just broke. This had been building up for over two weeks and the doctor just lets it happen, doesn't say anything, doesn't move. When I finally regained control of myself he said "Tell me what's wrong."

I couldn't stop myself. Everything had been so horrible and I told him almost everything. I told him about the beatings I got at school and how my friends were slowing distancing themselves from me, told him how I hated these sessions and how uncomfortable they made me. I told him how every time I walked into the bathroom I seriously considered suicide, how my parents didn't trust me and had me locked away like some prisoner. He seemed surprised at that. That was the first emotion I managed to get out of this guy. He stopped me and asked why my parents would do that. I told him about how they found the pen and realized what was in it. He asked me how long I'd been clean. I told him the truth, two weeks. I hadn't touched the stuff since the first time I tried it and wasn't planning on going back to it. By then the hour was up and he told me I should be proud of myself and that I had a breakthrough. He talked to my parents alone for a few minutes.

I don't know what he said but I really need to thank him. As soon as I got home, I had expected to be escorted to my room. It was almost a habit to me but Dad walked into the living room and Mom went into the kitchen to make dinner while I stood in the doorway. To say I was confused was an understatement. I stood there until Dad told me to close the door. They told me that they were sorry that they'd been so hard on me. I was still grounded but I wasn't on full lock down anymore. I got my phone and my music back. The first thing I did was sprawl on the couch and watch tv. Dad had the remote but I didn't really care. I was just too happy to be somewhere that wasn't my room, the bathroom, or school. That afternoon, I called Stokely and told her everything. I toned down the part about my breakdown (or through) so that I wouldn't get the pity look from her when I saw her. Zeke stopped by to say hi and drop off a pile of comics on loan from Stokely. "And a little gift from me" he added with a wink. I guess he feels guilty about giving me Scat in the first place.

This day was the brightest point of the past two weeks (not counting when I was tweaked). I spent the whole evening reading comics. Stokely may be weird at times but she has damn good taste in reading material. The comics were mostly sci-fi and fantasy; many X-files comics, a couple Tales From the Crypt, the collected edition of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, and a few issues of Poison Elves. Finally, at the bottom of the stack, were three porno mags. Thank you, Zeke! You are my hero.

School the next day was a different story...

I didn't have my camera with me. It had been broken while, surprise, I was getting my ass kicked. I hadn't had the money to repair or replace it. Until I could, I was off the paper. Which was good because I didn't have to face Delilah but bad because it meant I couldn't stash my stuff in the computer lab. Which meant I was forced to use my locker which meant more time in the hallway which increased my chances of getting a beat down. So, I was getting books out of my locker when Stan, Gabe, and a two other guys from the football started coming down the hallway. I took a step closer to my locker to get out of their way. It was useless. As they walked by, one of them shoved me hard. My face contacted with the cold metal edge of the locker door and pain shot through my mouth. I tasted the blood I knew was there from my split lip and I tried to shove down my anger. I looked over my shoulder at them and saw the four of them walking away, laughing. Stan was giving me the pity face that I hate so much and I just snapped.

I ran after them and shoved one of them. He stumbled a step then stopped short. When he stopped all four of them did and as soon as he turned around, I punched him in the throat. Sure, it was a cheap shot but he imediately went down, gasping. "I'm not taking any more shit!" I yelled, not feeling nearly as awkward as I should have in the crowded hall. I swear I heard a couple people clapping and at least one person yell "Go Casey!". I didn't have much time to enjoy it before I was slammed into the lockers and pinned there by one pissed off linebacker. "You are so dead, ditchweed." Over this goon's shoulder I could see Stan holding Gabe back. "You're gonna apologize to my friend right now, you scrawny little shit- bag."

I realized that there was no way I was going to get out of this without some pain involved so I took a gamble. I closed my eyes and mumbled. "I'm sorry." When I opened my eyes the goon was smirking at me. "I'm sorry that you assholes were stupid enough to fuck with me!" I yelled. He was too stunned to react for a moment and I took full advantage by kneeing him in the groin. It's not like I have any significant strength so I doubt I'd be doing any damage if it weren't for these cheap shots I was taking. As he fell, I jumped on him and just started punching. I heard shouting comming from somewhere, all around it seemed. Someone grabbed me from behind. I jabbed back with my elbow and the hands released me. I just kept doing a number on this jerk's face and it felt so good! It took three teachers to pull me off of him.

When I could think straight again, Coach Willis had me in a half-nelson and I could see that the new science teacher had a swollen eye. Shit, that must've been who I elbowed. I stammered my apologies to him repeatedly and he wandered to the nurses office, taking the goon with him. Coach walked me to the office, trying to hide a smile. I guess it is kinda funny, "Crash and Burn Casey" wailing on a football player. I sigh contentedly to myself despite the fact that I'm in deep shit right now. I laugh out loud and Coach looks at me. "Ya know," I mumble "I always wanted to do that."

TBC

A/N: Yeah I know Casey's a wee bit out of character here but there's only so far you can bend something before it snaps, right?...things only get weirder for him from here. Thanks muchly to the people who have reviewed so far. (But I really hope more than four people have read this!)