A/N 12 steps?Who said 12 steps? Who can see Garret going through 12 steps...certainly not this author. But thanks anyway for the review, if it wasn't Garret we'd have 12 steps, but, well, it's Garret...

I've come to my senses,
That I've become senseless,
I could give you lessons on how to ruin your friendships,
Every last conviction, I smoked them all away,
I drank my frustrations down the drain, out of the way,
So I sit and wait and wonder,
"Does anyone else feel like me?"
Someone so tired of their routines and disappearing self-esteems
I'll sing along,
Yeah with every emergency,
Just sing along,
I'm the king of catastrophes,
I'm so far gone,
That deep down inside I think it's fine by me,
I'm my own worst enemy
I could be an expert on co-dependency,
I could write the best book on underage tragedy,
I've been spending my time at the local liquor store,

Less Than Jake-The Science of Selling Yourself Short

The knock on the door made him jump. He got up and opened the door a crack to find Jordan standing there, looking somewhat impatient. "Hey." He said, opening the door all the way, stepping aside to let her in.

"Hey." She replied, walking past him, looking around.

"What's up?" He asked. She never just came over. She only came over when something was wrong. She never just came over to come over, she came when she wanted a shoulder to cry on, to not be alone, or when she wanted something out of him.

"I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat and a few drinks. But uh-" She gestured to the bottle and the glass that had been poured sitting on his cocktail table.

"Just poured it, was settling back to unwind when you knocked." It wasn't a total lie. He had just poured that drink, he didn't need to mention it was his second though. "Where do you want to go?" He didn't particularly want to be left alone. The more he was alone, the more he thought about her, thought about the pain.

"Replay?" She suggested with a shrug and he nodded, grabbing his car keys off the table by the door. The small sports bar was a short drive away, they could've walked, but why bother to spend more time in the cold Boston air than was necessary? "And it's a game night." she pointed out at the huge crowd stuffed into the small space.

He had just flicked on the TV when she had knocked, with all intentions of watching the game, seeing the Pats beat the crap out of the Eagles. But so much the better to do it company. They sat down at the bar and ordered a plate of wings each along with their drinks.

"So." She began after their food had come out.

"So." He repeated, plucking some of the meat off the bone.

"You're always here to listen to my problems, but you haven't said a damn thing about your own. How're you doing?" She asked and he shrugged, taking a sip of his scotch.

"I'm going. Getting on." He didn't want to talk about it. There was a reason he didn't talk about it much. It hurt too much. It was hard to think about it without wanting to completely break down, it was even harder to talk about it. Whenever he thought of her, he wanted to down the nearest bottle of something alcoholic, damning the consequences.

"Are you being serious or are you just saying that for my sake?" He shook his head at her accusation.

"I'm serious." He lied. "It's been a month, I'm getting over it, day by day." She nodded, sliding up from her seat.

"I'll be right back." She said, heading in the direction of the restroom. He looked at the glass of scotch in front of him and downed it, before ordering another, downing that, and a third, finally resting on the third one, sipping it as she returned. "So you wanna get out of here?" She asked, finishing off the last two wings on her plate. He nodded.

"Why not make a night of it?" He suggested with another sip of his scotch. It felt so good. He didn't know why he had gulped down the other two so quickly, but they had felt just as good.

"Because both of us have to get up for work tomorrow." She pointed out and he shrugged.

"You, Miss Neversleep actually wanting to go home early?" He mocked and she gave him a playful smack.

"Seriously. I haven't slept much all week." He nodded, and downed the rest of his glass in one gulp. He met her curious gaze.

"What?" He asked her, wondering why her eyebrow was quirked like that.

"You never could down an entire glass of scotch in one go before." He shrugged it off.

"I always could, just never usually did." He paid the bill, and frowned when he realized that he needed to empty out his wallet, it was becoming overstuffed with various receipts. She studied him for another long minute as they walked out to the car.

"Hey, your house is closer, can I just drop you and you take my car in tomorrow, save the trouble of having to park in that god awful garage, get out of your car, get in mine and go home?" He shrugged and tossed her the keys, the voice in the back of his head telling him that she was doing this so that he wouldn't drive. But he didn't care.