A/N-Right, here's somethng fun for y'all-well, not really FUN, well, I thought it was fun, but it's all angsty goodness.

Doctor, doctor won't you please prescribe somethin
A day in the life of someone else?
Cuz I'm a hazard to myself
Don't let me get me
I'm my own worse enemy
It's bad when you annoy yourself

Pink-Don't Let Me Get Me

"Howard, remind me again why I'm here?"He sat in the chair staring at the little man, wishing this was over.

"Because you're still grieving and I'm here to make sure that you're coping." He shrugged.

"I'm coping, I'm settling back into normal life, aren't I?" He replied, leaning back in his chair.

"But that doesn't mean that you're coping-just that you're continuing on, thinking you're coping." He hated the way that the man could make himself sound so smart. He was coping, he was moving on with his life. "How often do you think about her?" He shrugged. He didn't know, he didn't count. Too often.

"A couple of times a day." He admitted and Howard nodded his head.

"And what do you usually think about?" The way that he should have noticed the signs? The way she was always hyper? The jaw grinding? The weight loss? The way she picked at her food without really eating it? The way she never slept? How if he had noticed it, things wouldn't have happened that way?

Whenever he thought about her, he thought of what Blake had said-that she wanted to be something that wasn't a disappointment. And he was the one that had constantly make her think that-that she wasn't good enough, that she was in some way bad, broken. She had become a drug addict to prove herself to him, and he hadn't noticed at all. He thought about the way he was blind to everything. "I think about the relationship we had." He said, it was neutral ground.

"Ah, the infamous rocky relationship. Do you regret the relationship that you had with her, do you think that you should go back and change it since?" He shrugged. Howard was looking pissed at that reaction, but it was the only one he could think of. He wanted to go back and change it. If he had known that he wouldn't get any extra time with her, he wouldn't have fought with her as much, he wouldn't have forced her to live up to his standards.

But to change it would be to admit defeat. And he didn't want to do that. "I wouldn't have fought with her as much." He admitted and Howard made a mental note of that.

"So you are saying that something went wrong in your relationship." A lot of things had gone wrong.

"I was a little cold-hearted sometimes." Howard laughed and he fought the urge to punch the diminutive psychologist.

"A little? Garret, you could give the Bruins ice rink a run for it's money with being cold." He glared at the other man which just made him laugh all the more. "What upset you the most about her death?" He didn't know, honestly, there so many things.

The way it snuck up on him, just came out of nowhere, with no warning, no way to prepare for it. "Was it that she was on drugs? That she was on antidepressants? On meth? That it was her boyfriend that gave it to her?" It was all of that. Everything that Stiles had just listed.

He hadn't even thought she had a problem. He had just thought she was moody. But he had gone back over her medical records, she had started talking to a campus shrink, who had stuck her on antidepressants. It was part of what had killed her. If she wasn't on them, she wouldn't have died, if she hadn't switched meds, it wouldn't have had the effect that it had, she would still be alive.

But he hated Blake at the same time that he felt sorry for the boy. But there was the nagging feeling in his mind that Blake had simply saved her from an earlier death. That if she hadn't met Blake that she would have been dead before, that once she had met the boy that her life took it's upswing. But he still wanted to hate the boy because it was Blake's fault that she was gone, he was the one that had given her the pills.

"It was that she was fine that afternoon." He said. "She was there, in my house, talking, she had just gotten into Harvard-" He felt a lump in his throat build and he fought to swallow it down. The phone on Howard's desk rang and he answered it irately.

"That would be the end of our session, but if you don't show any signs of moving on with your life, you can guarantee I'll be making you see me again." He nodded and got up, shaking the other man's hand, before walking out of the door. Right now, what he needed was a good, stiff drink.