Disclaimer: Still own nothing

A/N: Well, this chapter is when the story takes a drastic turn. I promise that things only get more confusing from here on out. I apologize for not having stuff about Stephanie in the story earlier. I'm writing this straight from head to computer so there are tons of things that need to be fixed and adjusted. So, for my sake, we'll pretend like you knew that all along, ok? I knew that you'd understand. By the way, I'm going to keep updating on just this story for a while, because things are really starting to take off for this story in my mind. Next to Nothing has kind of stumbled on a roadblock for the time being, but I promise to have something up on it before my Christmas break ends!!

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//Say hello to the night,

Lost in the shadows,

Say hello to the night,

Lost in the loneliness//

*

Victoria held Chris' head in her lap while she brushed his hair away from his head. His face was flushed and he was sweating horribly. She kept mopping his forehead with her shirt. All of a sudden, she had the feeling that she had seen this before. This whole scene. Or perhaps...just Chris. She leaned her head back against the padded wall and closed her eyes.

{"Here, try some of this...It's pretty good...." her voice floated through her thoughts. Pictures began to show up in her mind to go with the thoughts. She was sitting next to none other than Chris himself. She had never recognized him before. She was handing him some sort of drink. She had no idea as to where she was in this thought.

"Let's go upstairs.." Chris' voice floated through her dream. She felt herself smile.

"I bet HE has something that could make that even better." She heard herself say again, making more questions enter her mind.

"Ask him." Chris purred to her.}

Victoria opened her eyes. She remembered only pieces of what had happened after that. Before, she had never known who the man was, but now....now she knew. She returned her gaze to Chris, flashes of what had transpired that night playing in her mind as she did so.

She didn't recall what drug she had asked for, but she knew it wasn't what she had gotten. They had both had enough drugs on that one night alone to kill both of them. It was a miracle they were both alive....and healthy...well....something had made Chris the way he was now. He was wasting away. He was no longer the man that had done so much. He was a shell to that man. She wondered if he knew what she had done to him that night.

She remembered that they had shared the needle that night. He'd given her the drug first, saying that whatever the drug was, it would loosen her up a bit. Later, before things had become really heated, she remembered drawing some out for him. To this day, she didn't know what the drug had been, but she knew that by the time that she had taken it, she hadn't cared. She had been drunk, mixed in with some cocaine or heroin, plus whatever had been in the syringe, presumably more heroin.

It was truly a miracle that they were alive. Victoria returned her focus once again to Chris' shivering, sweating form. She wished that she could know what was happening to him at that moment while he was unconscious. He was so helpless, so vulnerable....

*

Chris sat in the master bedroom of his house, still dressed in the suit that he had been wearing for Dave's funeral. The funeral had been the day before this, perhaps even longer. Time had become a stranger to Chris Jericho.

Something else, though, had become his new best friend.

He slowly got the strength to stand up again, and peeled off the coat he'd been wearing. He undressed and went into the shower, thinking that maybe, somehow, taking a shower would now work miracles for him and he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. When he returned out to the bedroom, he noticed two things on his bed that he would have sworn on his life were not there when he went in. One was Molly's diary, the other.....was a small black box. Chris pulled on some sweatpants and trudged over to the bed. There was a pink Post-It note on the cover of Molly's journal. It read:

//Find the error of your ways....use what's in the box......see...the.....error....//

Chris began to tremble and little beads of perspiration began to show up on his forehead. He knew what was in the box without even looking at it. It was his prison cell and salvation at the same time. It was his craving and his disgust. HIS heaven and hell. It had enslaved him since.....since Stephanie's death. He carefully opened the box.

It contained a syringe and several shots of heroin.

HIS syringe and heroin.

HIS wrongs.

Chris looked at the note on the journal then looked back at the syringe. Apparently, shooting up this time was supposed to show him the error of his ways. He picked up the rubber cord and tied it around his bicep. He prepared the syringe, and within minutes had given himself that little piece of heaven and hell that he needed.

Although this time was more like hell than heaven.

~

He was sitting in a chair staring at a television. It was showing him at Shawn's new house. He saw Hunter there as well. He knew what was happening. They were offering him drinks. Lots of them by the looks of it. He vaguely remembered this....He remembered taking a couple of beers, and then waking up in his bed the next morning with a headache out of this world.

This.....thing.....whatever it was, was apparently going to show him what had happened that he didn't remember....what he needed to see and how he needed to "right his wrongs".

~

Chris opened his eyes and looked up to see Victoria looking down at him. His eyes were bloodshot, and his ribs were poking out of his skin. He tried to tell her something but could not find the strength to do so. Coughing seized him and he fell unconscious before the spell had ended.

The two time periods were about to hit head on.....

Chris's past is catching up with him...

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Sorry I have to be so vague about this...Check out the next chapter!! (Don't know when it will be up, but make sure that you see it. Some pieces will start to fall together in this thing.)

Please REVIEW!!!!!