Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha, nor do I get anything out of writing this other then twisted kicks.

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed my last chapter. I got some really good feedback for a first chap, and it just made me feel all warm and cuddly inside. This chapter is not very good, I shall warn you. It's one of those transition chapters, which I hate writing because nothing happens and I have no idea what to do! The next one will be better, I promise. And, as always, if you review, it'll make me happy. And a happy writer is a productive writer.

Miroku- And a productive writer writes.

Very good!

Miroku- And then the productive writer can bear my children…

The doctor starred at the white haired young man and the woman with him. She gave him a smile, placing her hand on her companions shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

"What in the hell do you mean I have to fill out these forms! Do I look like his fucking mother or something?! I don't even know the damn guy!"

It wasn't working out too well.

"This is what I get for trying to help someone out. A shit load of paper work!"

"Sir, really, it's not that difficult to fill out. And if you have any problems, one of the nurses will be happy to help you…"

"Oh so what, am I stupid now? I can fill out a form thank you very much!" Inuyasha growled at him. "Give me that," he said and snatched the writing pad from his hands.

Kagome smiled weakly at him as her boyfriend walked over to a desk. She sighed heavily, turning her attention back to the doctor after watching Inuyasha growl at the first person who had tried to offer him some assitance.

"Is he…all right?"

"Gomen," she apologized quickly. "He doesn't mean to be like that. He's just rather…"

"God damn it! How the hell am I supposed to write without a pen! Do I look like I have ink shooting from my fingers!"

"…stressed."

"I should say so," the doctor agreed, rubbing his temples. "Perhaps I could write him a prescription to something, just to help him take off the edge."

He ducked, barely dodging a flying pen.

"Stupid twisty tops. This is a hospital, don't you guy's have any clicky pens?"

"Has he stopped smoking recently?"

Kagome winced, shaking her head in the negative. 'He's a really great guy deep down. I just wish he didn't have to be such a jerk in public.'

"Ah well…then…" He trailed off unsurely. "Never mind him then. I was wondering if you could answer some questions about the man you brought in with you today."

She sighed heavily, her exhaustion showing though. "Sure," she answered.

"Do you know anything about him? His name, where he works, anything about someone we could contact?"

"No," she answered, shaking her head. "He lives in the apartment a few door's down from um…" Her gaze drifted to the white haired man who was currently stabbing a counter with a pen, cursing the twisty tops to the lowest depps of Hell. "…Inuyasha's apartment. That's really all I know about him. Well, that and we found him passed out in the middle of the hall at about 3:30."

"Did he have a wallet with him? Anything personal that may have fallen out when the paramedics came to get him?"

Again she shook her head. "I don't think so. The only thing he had with him was that bag he was holding. If you want, I could go back and check."

"No no," he told her. "That's quite all right."

She smiled at him, thankful that she wouldn't have to be driving around Tokyo during rush hour. It had been bad enough trying to follow the ambulence to the hospital without getting lost; Inuyasha's rantings not helping one bit. 'Why can't he just admit that he's a good person and likes to help people instead of beings so…'

"Die you stupid pen! Die!"

'…stubborn.'

The sound of buzzing and harsh lights greeted him as he began blinking his eyes opened. His purple eyes darted from left to right, taking in his surroundings. He was in a room. A very cold, very white room. Glancing down, he noticed that wires and other…things were sticking out of him. He blinked in confusion, trying to recall everything that he could remember.

'Robbed my place of employment…check. Ran from the cops…check. Went to Naraku and got my stuff…check. Nearly OD'd…check.' He graoned in pain a bit, trying his best to sit up. Where was he?

Sleepily, he followed one of the cords in his arms up to a shiny object. He tilted his head to the side, glaring at it. He knew what it was called, but he really couldn't remember at the moment. And besides, what kind of idiot just refers to things as 'the shiny'?

He tilted his head to the other side, taking in the left side of his surroundings. He blinked when he saw a purple fuzzy bunny smoking a ciggerette on one of the tables. He was going to say something, but decided not to. Instead, he lifted his hand and waved, receiving an evil glare and a middle fuzzy finger raised at him. 'How very rude.'

Then the thought hit him.

Now, why in the fuck would a purple fuzzy bunny smoking a ciggerette be in, what he assumed, was his hospital room.

There were only two reasonable explanations. One, he was dead, and went to some freaky deaky twisted sort of Hell, or Two, he was seriously tripping.

"What?" the bunny hissed.

"Um…nothing…" he stuttered.

Tripping. Most definetly tripping.

He starred at the bunny for a few more seconds before a banna was thrown at him.

'That must have been some good shit. I mean…I've never seen purple bunny before…' He cringed then, thinking over his deal with Naraku. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to remind himself that he was really fucked up and he should just stop worrying and enjoy it. But, he couldn't. All he could do was think about the plan, the deal, what he was willing to do and to give up for just one more time.

Why did he keep doing it? Why did he keep going back to that place? Why did he just keep getting himself deeper and deeper into this black hole? One day, he mused silently, maybe someday someone could pull him out. He knew that wouldn't happen of course. How many times he had pushed people away when they had said they wanted to help him. They would give him fake smiles, pat him on the head and tell him that everything would be all right.

How dare they do that? How dare people force false opptomisim on him; giving him the shimmer of hope that somehow he might actually find a way to get out of all of this, only to have it come crashing down on him like shattered glass, realizing for what must have been the hundredth time that all he was was just some charity case; he was just some poor, defensless child that people could smile at and feel like they had done something good. How he wished he could just throw it back in their faces. Make them see that there reassuring smiles and their warm words didn't do anything but make him want to vomit. Maybe that would make them fall of their soap boxes, letting them know that all they did was make the people they were trying to help feel sick with their fakeness.

His heavy sigh filled the room. Oh, fuck his brooding. He'd gotten some good stuff surprisngly, and so for now, he was going to block out any thoughts and all thoughts of having to pay Naraku back; he was just going to sit back and enjoy the high.

The wonderful high, with the not-so-nice bunnies and the talking bed sheets that kept singing show tunes, was short-lived however, when a bustling nurse entered the hospital room. She smiled brightly at him, causing him to close his eyes again and groan. Couldn't people just let him be stoned in peace?

"Good evening," she said happily, walking over to him. With the same wide smile, she palced a hand on his head, forcing it forward. He cired out in shock and a bit of pain as the woman began fluffing the pillows behind his head. When she was finished, she placed her hand on his forhead, pushing him back down. "It looks like you've got a fever," she said with a slight frown.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as a few small pills that he couldn't identify and water was forced down his throat. He coughed loudly, grabbing his neck and rubbing it, feeling as if he was about to choke on the sudden intrusions. The nurse, wide-eyed and apologizing under her breath, hit him on the back as hard as she could, causing him to fall onto his side with a groan of pain.

The woman smiled happily, seeing that she had helped yet another poor hospital patient, then began walking out of the room, humming a jonty tune as she did. He scowled into the pillow. Placing a hand on either side of his head, he lifted himself back up into a sitting position. 'Kami I hate nurses. Don't they know the best way to help is just to leave you alone? I didn't even get a chance to grope her.' He breathed a heavy sigh of annoyance and then laid back down on the bed, trying to get in a comfortable position. He let his eyes begin drifting closed, the colors and shapes around him beginning to blur.

He drifted into a state somewhere between the waking world and his dreams, floating between the fuzzy lines as he blocked out everything else. That was what was so great about this moment; that was why he was willing to give up so much for these simple seconds of bliss. He could forget. Forget pain, death, anger, hurt, hate, lonlieness, and everything else that plagued himself and the world. He could just forget. He could drift out of his battered body, pull away from his torn spirt and just be. He was numb, but he was free.

The sound of footsteps and angry yells echoed into his room, barely giving him time to open his eyes before the source of the noise came into the room. He heard someone yelling, being told to calm down, then the sound of a hand connected with a jaw reached him. Instantly, the image of the young girl, Rin he thought her name might have been, being beaten by Naraku flashed through his mind, and his fists clenched in anger. So many times had he wanted to make that man pay for all he did to people. And so many times he had given into that man and so many others, given into anything and everything they told him, if only for his little bit of peace.

"I said I'm not any kind of criminal, you crazy idgit!" he heard a young man scream. The man's white hair hung to his back, and he was wearing a red shirt and baggy red pants, his face contored into a look of anger and annoyance as he continued yelling in a uniformed man's face.

'He looks familiar…wait…I know him. He lives in the apartment near mine. What is he doing here? Maybe…could he have been the one who brought me here?' His head began a dull aching as the man he knew as Inuyasha…or Inutrasha…well…it was Inu something continued yelling the nice police officer who, currently, has his hand on the tip of his gun.

"Listen kid," he hissed. "I was just asking you a question. Now, obviously, you don't know who this guy is or what he's dealing with, so I don't have to arrest you. But if you keep it up, I will charge you with assult and take you down town, understand?"

"Kid? I ain't no kid. You're just old…"

"Inuyasha!" Kagome yelled, finally getting fed up with her boyfriends attitude.

He blinked at her, his golden eyes shining with fear. 'Uh-oh.' He tried to give her a smile before she lifted her hand and whacked him over his head. She took him by his ear and began pulling him out of the room, giving the officer a smile of apology as she did. The policeman blinked, shook his head, and turned his attention from the strange couple to the man lying in the bed.

Inwardly, he screamed at his misfortune. On the outside, he gave the dufuss smile that he had perfected over the years, waving a bit. "Why, hello there Officer Donyai Tsume. What a pleasant surprise to see. Tell me, how's the Misses? Still as lovely as ever I assume."

The dark haired officer narrowed his eyes at the younger man as he stepped to the bed. He shook his head at the sight. "Kami, how many times…" He trailed off. "This is the second time I've found you in the hospital in the past four months. Can you tell me why that is?"

A thoughtful look crossed over his face as he scratched the side of his head. "Nope," he said shrugging. "Maybe I'm just accident prone?" he suggested.

"Maybe you're just a druggie who can't get his shit straightened out."

"Well…there's one theory…" he said dryly, scowling at the man.

Tsume sighed again. "Gomen, I didn't mean that," he said. "I read the file. You od'd on that crap this time. Nearly killed yourself. If that Inuyasha guy hadn't have found you, you'd be dead by now. I don't think your father would have wanted this."

He nearly laughed and cried at the same time, shaking his head as a bittersweet smile crossed his lips. "My father? My father didn't give a damn about me."

"Now that's not true," he interrupted, glaring at the man. "Look, he was my partner for nearly ten years, remember? He did care about you, he just had…"

"…trouble showing it." He waved his hand in dismisal. "Yeah yeah, I know."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two aqquantinces. It lasted for many moments, with the officer just staring at him, remembering the boy who he had taught to play kickball, the boy who had groped his wife at just the age of ten, the boy who had thrown his life away because he couldn't see what was just in front of him.

"You know, you could go to prison for a lot longer then a few months this time," he said quietly. "I can't get you off this time. It's your third strike, they'll hold you a lot longer then a few months for posession."

"I'm aware of that," he replied. "You've told me about a million times."

"Then why don't you ever listen? I'm trying to help you, but all you do is push it away."

"I don't need your fucking help!" he cried. "I never asked for it. I know you think that you need to do this, need to take care of me so that you can repay your debt to my father for saving your life, but you don't."

He sighed again. "Well if you won't take my help, then at least take someone elses."

"I told you I didn't need it," he repeated.

Tsume clenched his fist. "It's simple. You either go to rehab, get some help, turn in all the information you know about the people you've been…working with, or you go to the slammer. That's it; the end. You'll just be locked away. And, I don't think you'd like it there for too long. You're rather pretty."

"Fuck you," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I'm nobody's prison bitch. And I don't think I like these threats, Tsume."

"It's not a threat; it's your only option. You've got until you get out of the hospital, which might be around the next three or four days, depending on how quickly you get over this." He turned on his heel, beginning to head out. He lingered in the doorway for just a moment, turning his attention back to the young man that he had known since he was just a child. "I swear, if your father could see you, your mother, seen what you've become. If they had known just what they were doing to you all those years…they never would have left you. If they had known they were teaching you never to care, ripping you from the inside out by leaving you all alone, they would have taken it all back."

He closed his eyes and shook his head, blocking out the words. Tsume was his father's old partner, just another one of those people who was trying to help him to fulfill their own voids. If in the past, his father had never taken that bullet for him, Tsume would have never even given him a second look. It was sad, almost, knowing that it took his father to give up his own life for it to mean anything to anyone.

'Will my life ever be important to anyone? Not just because they feel like they have to help me because I am unable to, but because they actually care?' He sighed heavily, looking back over at the purple fuzzy bunny who was playing Go Fish with one of the cheap paintings on the wall. 'Doubtfully.'

Been scared and lonely
I've asked myself, is something wrong with you
My girlfriend told me
I need some time alone to deal with issues
But something makes me carry on
It's difficult to understand
Why I always wanna fly

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom of a bottle

You always call me
And ask me how I make it through the day
I'm always falling
I guess it's just God's way of making me beg
But something makes me carry on
It's difficult to understand
Why I always wanna fly

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom of a bottle

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom of a bottle

And I, I wonder why I try
And I, I wonder why I bother
And I, I wonder why I cry
Why I, I go through all this trouble

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom of a bottle

I do it for the drugs
I do it just to feel alive
I do it for the love
That I get from the bottom of a bottle