Wow...it's been a really long time, kiddies. I was going to update last night, but then ff.net was having it's spaz-attack so I waited until this morning (ermm, well, afternoon at his point o.O). I totally blame the RPG and my vacation time. ::twitch::

I'm dedicating this one to three people: Allie, Emmy, and Adriana. Allie, honey, I understand where you're coming from and I hope you feel better soon. Emmy, if you get to read this, then our prayers have been answered and your dad let you back on. We love ya, hun. I hope you're able to come back. We miss you already. Adriana, thanks for the sweet review. It really made me feel good. Heck, I LOVE YOU ALL! ::breaks down crying happy tears:: Ah man, I wanna dedicate it to everyone! ::cries again::

Heh. o.O I'm okay now. Had a moment there.

And my Sophie is back! Sophie! ::tackles:: Even though it'll take you awhile to catch up to this chapter, I missed you and was really excited to see you updated! ::beams:: Now if only Kate would return too...Man, it's been a long time...

Brnnttebabe12- I'm glad you liked it.

Adriana- Ha ha...yes. There's hope for Charlie yet. :P Aww...::blushes:: You're so sweet!!! ::wipes away tear:: Thank you soooo much! This one's dedicated to you, Adriana! Rah!

MDSWitter26- Heh...that's true. :P Yes, 64 chapters of Chelsea-induced torture deserves a reward. I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I hope this one is enjoyable too.

Banksiesbabe99- Ha...that is so true. But then where would all the drama and angst be? Lol. That would just be no fun at all. Lol...Funny that you caught how the miscommunication caused a lot of the problem. ::laughs:: I'm glad you like Bombay's "plan."

Sarah- I'm glad you liked it, and you shall find out in this chapter what happens! ::dramatic music::

Rach- Yes! I was unpredictable! Whoo-hoo! I'm so glad you think that! ::beams:: You're so sweet! ::cries happy tears:: I feel so loved and stuff! I ALWAYS love reading your reviews! you're so sweet!

French Chipmunk- ::laughs:: You'll have to see...dun dun dun!

Emmy- Aww hun...I really hope you get to read this...Man, we all miss you so much! I really hope your dad has sympathy...I'm so sorry that happened to you. ::hopes and prays that Emmy can read this:: Now I'm sad because I didn't even update before you were banned from LJ/the internet...::eyes water:: Man, now I'm all depressed...I don't want my Emmy to get CHARLIEUS ANGSTUS WITHDRAWLUMNA!!! ::breaks down sobbing again:: I'll shoot for 70 for you, Em; I just hope you'll get to read it.

Joshrox116- You'll just have to see. == I'm so glad you never get sick of me! ::beams:: And I did indeed have a good time in Arizona, thanks.

Tiff- Thanks so much for the review! I'm glad you liked it.

Preciousbabyblue- You'll just have to see in this next installment of...dun dun dun...SHATTERED GLASS! TADA!

Nicole- Thanks for the review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I will indeed continue on updating. :P

Neb- I'm glad you think I'm portraying Charlie's messed-up-ness well. Lol. I know for a fact too that the Charlie in the movies wouldn't do a lot of the things our angsty little Charlie does, but that's of course because we know he got whacked with the crazy stick while at good ol' daddy's house. Heh. Yes, Bombay is a tad dense...but that's because he's new at the whole "parenting" thing; I figured he would be catching on a little more at this point. ::laughs:: I'm glad you liked the chapters. I still have a little bit in me, but we're definitely close.

Liz- LIZ! ::tackels:: Man, it's been a long time! Have I talked to you all summer? I'm not even sure. o.O Having some rough weeks? I'm here to talk when you feel like talking about it. I'm glad you arne't dead. I was concerned there for awhile. We should SO do something together before summer ends! It would be wrong not to! Heh...::giggles:: We are horrible; we simply cannot keep the plot bunnies under control. :P I'll have to check it out.

DodgerMcClure.aka.Drama-Queen- Lol. Thanks for the review. Yes, Charlie does need to smarten up...but you'll see what happens in this chapter! DUN DUN DUN! I'm SOOO glad you like it! ::beams:: Much love!

Disclaimer- Bah!

-Chapter 65-

Charlie couldn't make his legs move as the words swam around his head.

Was Bombay really telling the truth? Would he really send him away to the scary people in the white coats?

Maybe it was an empty threat...a trick...

Or maybe it wasn't.

He furrowed his eyebrows slightly and looked around as if disoriented. Taking unsure steps, he walked to the steps of the stairs and walked up.

He had never thought of it before. But why did he care? He didn't want to be with them anyway...

Right?

Walking into his bedroom without bothering to shut the door, he collapsed on his bed and curled into a fetal position.

He stared at an empty spot on his wall, feeling a sense of dread and hopelessness settle on him as what little good left in his life began to crash down.

Did Bombay want him to go? Would he really have to leave?

He readjusted his head on the pillow before shifting his gaze to a photo lying dejected on the floor. He had probably knocked it off the dresser in his fit of rage while packing to leave.

Without moving the upper half of his body at first, he swung his legs to the ground before allowing himself to rest on his knees. He turned and crawled to the down-faced photo, resting on his legs as he tentatively picked it up.

Flipping it over, a picture of the Ducks was revealed.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, but this time it wasn't from anger.

In the picture he was grinning, his arms slung around the shoulders of Adam and Averman while Fulton leaned on their backs, posing "macho-ly" for the camera. Guy was resting his chin on the top of Connie's head and Julie stood by Goldberg and Ken with a grin. Luis seemed to have his eyes elsewhere, Russ was laughing at something, and Dwayne was grinning as if he didn't have a care in the world. They were all tightly squished into the picture and each looked genuinely happy. He couldn't help but feel a lonely aching just looking at it.

His thoughts unconsciously drifted to when the picture had been taken. It had been at the very beginning of the school year. It was the last day of summer, and they were preparing for their high school experience together. They had left early in the morning and stayed together all day, never leaving the group as they enjoyed the last 24 hours of freedom. They had done everything ranging from mall browsing to pizza to street hockey. It had been before they found out Portman wasn't coming to Eden Hall with them. Before Adam was separated from the group. Before things seemed to fall apart.

Charlie walked back over to his bed, never placing the photo back down. He lay out on his bed and continued to look at it. The teen then began to wonder what happened. Okay, so he knew what happened...but he tried to pinpoint when he starting feeling bitter towards them. He couldn't really remember. He couldn't remember when coming home wasn't the most exciting idea he could muster. When it got to the point where they were no longer trustworthy.

As he continued to stare holes into the photo, his mind proceeded to wander. Thoughts of yelling at Bombay...snapping at his friends...rejecting Fulton and Julie when they just wanted to help...spazzing on Adam because he was feeling frustrated and bitter.

He placed the photo on the bedside table and buried his face in the pillow, curling up again. His life was beyond screwed-up, and he didn't know what to do. How to fix it. If he even could...

At the same time, he didn't know if he really wanted to go back. Going back to the way things were would mean telling everybody (if they didn't already know), apologizing like there was no tomorrow, and living with the fact that he had majorly screwed up and may never pay it back. He wasn't sure if his pride could suffer another blow.

He was tired of being angry, but at the same time afraid to not be. He wasn't quite sure what he really wanted anymore...

He didn't feel like going out of his way to make their lives miserable, but he didn't know if he could go out of his way to make amends. Part of him still hung on to the fact they hadn't been there for him. It was an internal struggle that he couldn't seem to resolve. His emotions were fighting with that tiny nagging feeling that it wasn't COMPLETELY their fault...It had gotten to the point where he couldn't distinguish the difference between what was real and what he had convinced himself was real.

Did they even care anymore? There was always the chance he could apologize for nothing. The chance that they wouldn't accept him back...and he wasn't sure if he could handle that kind of rejection at the moment. Not that he could completely blame them.

He still didn't like them, and he was still pretty angry at Bombay, but it didn't seem worth it anymore. It didn't seem worth it to fight the system. He wasn't living on cloud nine, but he knew for sure that he didn't want to be stuck in some institution somewhere to rot and die. No thank you.

Letting out a sigh and crawling under the covers, Charlie tried to clear his thoughts. There was no hope for sleep if he couldn't.

= = =

Morning came, and Charlie blinked open his eyes. The sun was burning in through the window, brightly awakening him from sleep. Usually this didn't wake him up, but he hadn't gotten loads of sleep anyway. Conflicting and nagging thoughts did that to you.

An almost whimper escaped his lips as he covered his head with the pillow. Why wasn't there a remote control for your thoughts? He could really use one...

"Eeeuuhhg...screw it..." he muttered, crawling reluctantly from his self-made cocoon. He wasn't sure why he even bothered getting up. Not like there was anything to look forward to.

He was still dressed in the clothes he had worn the night before as he walked into the bathroom. He blinked at his reflection sleepily and pulled out his toothbrush and toothpaste from the cabinet.

The bottle of pills caught his eye.

Setting the toothbrush and toothpaste down, he picked up the small container and looked it over. He had never really given it a second thought; he had just known that he refused to take them. Shane had done similar when it was prescribed to him, but then again...Shane was also kind of in jail. Maybe not a good thing.

Giving the small orange container another look, he twisted the cap and pulled out a single pill. Surely it couldn't HURT him to do what they wanted...they already thought he was anyway, so it wasn't like he was really getting anything out of NOT taking them.

Trying to think of it as him deciding to on his own in order to preserve his sliver of pride, Charlie picked up a cup that had likely been sitting there for at least two weeks and rinsed it before filling it with water. He put the pill in his mouth and drank the water, swallowing the pill with ease. There. He had done one whole non-rebellious task.

Charlie brushed his teeth and put the bottle of pills back where it had been before. That hadn't been so hard...

He walked out of the bathroom, unsure of what exactly he was going to do for the rest of the day. He was a bit scared to walk downstairs. Sure Bombay hadn't been angry the night before, but that didn't mean frustration couldn't brew overnight. He didn't really particularly WANT to be yelled at...

The boy walked to the stairs and sat on the top step, looking downstairs into the small part of the living room he could see. He hadn't given it much thought last night, but it started to hit him how he actually HADN'T been yelled at...That why he was a bit reluctant to go downstairs. The yelling had probably been bottled up to avoid inflicting further emotional trauma...That meant a double-whammy.

Definitely not fun.

He continued to sit there, battling with himself over he should go downstairs. He knew he'd have to eventually; he couldn't very well sit at the top of the stairs forever.

Deciding to go ahead and get it over with, he stood up and trudged down the stairs. As physically tired as he was, he knew there was no use in trying to sleep, so why bother staying in bed all day? Sleep was fruitless. Maybe later.

Walking around the corner, he saw his former hockey coach sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper. When Charlie glanced at the clock, he was surprised to see it was only eight...

He swallowed and prepared himself for a lecture. Maybe it would be quick and painless...Bombay never was that vengeful...right?

"Hey..." he said quietly.

Gordon jumped and nearly spilled coffee on himself, looking in Charlie's direction. In confusion, he glanced back at the clock and back at Charlie. "You're awake."

Charlie nodded.

Gordon folded the paper up and sat it aside. "Well...I was actually planning on a few more hours to come up with an inspiring lecture. You'll have to forgive me," the man said, taking another drink of his coffee.

Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and began rocking back and forth slightly.

"What got you up so early?" Gordon asked, feeling slightly bolder than usual due to Charlie's non-threatening stance and few words.

"Couldn't sleep."

"What brought you down? I'd imagine you aren't excited about this," he asked the teen, taking another drink from the mug.

"Might as well get it over with," Charlie said, gluing his eyes to the floor in hopes that they could just put the lecture behind them so he could go wander mindlessly for a while. Not that he thought for a second he would be allowed to. He just wasn't sure why he suddenly cared...Maybe he had hit his head at some point along the way...He HAD whacked his head on the side of the table when someone tripped him a few days ago...Maybe that was it...

"And you're not even attempting to avoid it?" Gordon questioned, unable to mask his surprise.

"Why? So the lecture worsens and likely grows in length?" Charlie asked with eyebrows raised, looking at his guardian. "If I've learned anything, it's that you can't avoid the inevitable forever."

Gordon furrowed his eyebrows and nodded, not quite sure how to start lecturing now. He watched as Charlie continued gently rocking back and forth, looking around the kitchen as if mildly bored. It was hard to yell at him when he wasn't yelling back. Some of the steam had burned off from the night before. Not all of it, but that didn't mean he knew how to begin. Where to begin.

"To be honest, Charlie, I don't know where to start. I may just be in slight shock from it all, but I really don't know what to say anymore. As much as I want to yell at you, for some reason I can't. I want to trust that you've 'learned your lesson,' but I really don't know if you have," he started, really wishing he had a handbook or something for guidance. "You lied to me, Charlie. And not just once, but several times. I don't even KNOW how many times. I don't know when I can trust you and when I can't. You skipped out on your therapy, disappeared for two weeks, then need to be picked up from a police station? I need to know what's wrong, Charlie. It can't be helped if you don't say what's wrong. And don't even THINK about saying nothing's wrong, because that's one lie I'm sick of hearing. I don't know whether or not to continue taking you to Dr. Shylo, because I don't know if you'll go. I don't want to have to walk you inside to make sure you go in."

Charlie nodded solemnly, still not looking at the older man.

"And I really don't know how to punish you. I can't let it slide by because that would give you the impression that it was okay. But it wasn't, so I can't. There's no point in restricting you from anything, because there isn't anything I can restrict you from that would make an impact. Grounding you wouldn't do any good, because you rarely leave your room anyway. You're already going to therapy, and I am truly out of ideas, alright? I am out of plans, Charlie. If you can't get your act together, I really don't know what I'm going to do," Gordon finished with admittance.

Charlie couldn't restrain the pang of guilt before he tried to brush it away. Why should he feel sorry for them, right?

"So...what? Am I grounded?" he asked, trying to keep control as he acted casual, looking everywhere but at his old hockey coach. He knew if he did, he might do something he felt he would regret. He couldn't be that vulnerable...He just needed to listen.

"I really don't know. It's your call; do what you want because I don't know what to do," Gordon said with exasperation as he walked out of the room.

Charlie watched him and let out a mildly aggravated sigh.

Darn Bombay...making him feel guilty! WHY did he have to go and do that?! He had nothing to feel guilty about...He shouldn't be feeling guilty...

The boy groaned almost inaudibly to himself before turning and walking back upstairs. He was going to bed...again...

= = =

It was nearly noon before Charlie left his room again. He walked down the stairs and peeked around the corner. Once sure that the coast was clear and he wouldn't have to see Bombay and get that icky guilty feeling again, he walked to the kitchen and made a sandwich. He grabbed a bottle of water and ate the sandwich quickly, putting everything away as he drank the water.

He walked into the living room and out the door, straight in the early days of July. Now that he was in a new pair of clothes again, he felt a little better. Not floaty-on-top-of-the-world happy, but not step-in-a-puddle-on-a- rainy-day depressed either.

He preferred to think of it as coincidence. It couldn't POSSIBLY be because he took one of those stupid "anti-depressants" they gave him. No, because that would mean they were right. And that's impossible. It should be some law against nature for them to be right because that would make Charlie wrong. And Charlie was NEVER wrong, under ANY circumstance. Ever. It simply wasn't possible. Must just be a fluke.

Hands dug in his pockets, he strolled along with no particular destination. He truly couldn't think of anything to do. His summer was passing him by, and he had done absolutely nothing fun or productive the whole time. It seemed somewhat unreal. Wait...had the Fourth of July already passed? When had THAT happened? What day was it?!

He glanced at his watch to see it was 11:45 on July 2nd. The Fourth of July was in two days. His freaking BIRTHDAY was in TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS!

"Wow..." he said to himself in somewhat of a daze, stopping to register this newfound information. He blinked a few times, trying to soak in the fact that his summer was really almost over. His birthday was within the month...

Struggling to shake off the thought, he continued walking. He had no clue what he was going to do. Things seemed beyond screwed up...Was it possible to fix?

Was it even worth salvaging?

The boy continued to walk mindlessly, working hard to hold up a neutral expression and empty mind.

Not that easy, mind you.

He slowed to a stop by a cemetery.

No, not just a cemetery...

The cemetery...

Yeah, he was definitely a glutton for punishment.

As much as he wanted to keep walking, he of course couldn't. He looked around and realized he hadn't been since the burial. The place was full of tombstones and dying flowers, fitting the gloomy mood perfectly. It seemed the second you entered the area, the brightness of the sun seemed to dim. Not that he noticed, because he was much too busy mulling in his angst to notice something like that.

He browsed the place, though he knew exactly where it was. How could he forget? He was just slightly afraid to go...yet equally afraid not to.

"This is depressing," he sighed to himself. He turned, but froze in place when one particular gravestone caught his eye.

"Cassandra Conway - Wife, Mother, and Friend. 1964-1997"

He knew he had been expecting, if not planning, on seeing it...but there was a big difference about SAYING or THINKING you'll do something as compared to actually DOING it...

During the funeral, he had never been given the chance to look at the stone used. He had shown up and been dragged away seconds after it ended. Not given enough time to register any of it. The shock of it all still crept up on him occasionally, but with all that had been going on...he really hadn't thought about it much.

And that hurt.

It hurt that he hadn't been given the proper chance to think it over. His outbursts of realization came in sporadic bursts. To be honest, he had tried NOT to think about it...It was a lot to take...

And with his father...Ooh, that man really had another thing comin'...Charlie hoped he rotted and died in that stupid, God-forsaken cell...

He read it again and felt a bitter taste in his mouth. Wife? His dad probably put that to make it seem like he was there, devoted to her completely. Like all the things he had done could be hidden by pretending it all never happened. It isn't like anyone else would know. A random stranger wouldn't know the difference. But Charlie did. And it only served to upset him more. He had no right to rob Charlie of that experience, or anything else for that matter.

The teenager fell to his knees and just sat there, staring at it; studying every curve of the stone. Watching it intently, as if it would change. As if she would disappear if he were to blink...even if it was just a grave...Wasn't this all he had left?

He ran the tips of his fingers along the engraved writing, the stone cool to the touch. It was by a tree under the shade, safely blocked from the sun. Protected.

His heart ached; he wanted his mom back. He didn't want anyone else...He just wanted his mom...

Tears sprung to his eyes, despite his attempts otherwise. He willed himself to take a deep breath, but that only served to release a shuddering exhale. The boy struggled to keep his jaw steady, but he couldn't stop the longing for normalcy. To make it magically better. He wanted his life back.

But he was scared.

He wouldn't admit it aloud, but he was terrified at the thought of trying to resume life as it used to be. He wasn't sure if he had realized just how much it scared him until now. Sure, pride was part of it...But really...what would he do if they rejected him? What if he truly had gone too far and there was no going back? What if he had honestly burned one too many bridges?

Charlie clamped part of the inside of his cheek between his teeth in an attempt to will away the tears. Will away the thoughts. He didn't want to be scared. He didn't want to be vulnerable. That's why he needed to continue avoiding them...He just couldn't take that chance. Couldn't take that risk. Couldn't forfeit control and safety for something so unsure.

His eyes fell on the other graves, each lovingly decorated with flowers. He knew his mother's had been neglected...He had been out-of-state, out-of-mind, out-of-life, and not really thinking about it.

It needed flowers.

She needed flowers.

He wiped his a cheek with the back of one of his sleeves, allowing the arm to fall back into his lap. Those who didn't think he was crazy before definitely thought it now; still boycotting short sleeves.

The only comfort was the walls he had built; the defense he had constructed to protect the fragile and fickle emotions beneath. He wasn't so sure he knew what he would say to them anyway. He didn't know if he had the energy to repair it.

As he continued to sit, he found himself not really wanting to leave. It was comforting in a strange way...Almost as if a warm embrace cradled him as he brought his knees to his chest and closed his eyes. Just being there made him feel safe. It was nice.

He focused on the soft breeze and the quiet brushing of leaves in the tree above him. Time seemed to fly as he sat there, enjoying a few moments of peace before it disappeared again.

Giving the gravestone one last glance, he reluctantly stood up. He wasn't sure how long he had sat there. At least an hour...

He ran his sleeve under his eyes again, self-consciously wiping already- dried tears away as he sniffled quietly.

The boy dug his hands in his pockets again, walking away; but not without giving one last sidelong glance back.

He silently thanked her. He didn't know what for, but he knew a thanks was in order.