A/N Ah Garret, you're going to get better...I think. Well, I know what happens, but y'all don't...he's in for a "fun" ride, let me tell you...and I'm really annoyed, have you seen the new Bond? He's FUGLY! And they need to do more Ramones tunes on the show, C'mon, Alan has an IN with the Ramones...and Keridwen-Princeton Plainsboro is what happens when they combined Princeton Med (where I was) and RWJ Hamilton (where I've been) and chagned the name-there is no hospital in Plainsboro, just RWJ hamilton, Princeton and like 3 in Trenton...

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care about this world
I don't care about that girl
I don't care

The Ramones-I Don't Care

He spent the next few days ignoring her as much as possible. Every now and then she'd try and talk to him, and he'd always ignore her, giving one word answers when he could. No matter what she tried to do to initiate conversation he'd get out of it with as little interaction on his side as possible. He was all but catatonic, never showing any expression, hardly moving from his bed to the couch, occasionally eating something.

He got up and poured another cup of coffee. He kept pouring the liquid, black, down his throat, hoping that enough caffeine would make up for the lack of scotch. It was serving to keep the nightmares at bay from sheer lack of sleep. He was so exhausted that when he did sleep it was deep and dreamless.

He pulled out the loaf of bread and stuck a piece in the toaster. "Is that all you're going to eat?" She asked and he shrugged, not talking. She sighed and got back to pan on the stove. "I'm making eggs you know, if you want some."

"No." He replied, taking a long sip of the hot liquid. He missed the long slow burn of a glass of scotch. Coffee just didn't have it, coffee just burned from the heat, not from the intrinsic warmth of the liquid. He wanted a drink. He needed a drink. But she wasn't going to let him drink while she was there.

"How's your arm?" He shrugged again. She had stitched it back up while he had been out, and he was at least glad for that, he didn't want to have to worry about being stitched without some Lidocaine. He'd done that once, and it was enough for him to not want to do it ever again.

The toast popped up and he crunched into it, not even bothering for butter or anything else to put on top of it. It was something to get her to stop nagging him, he was eating something, even if it was only a piece of toast. "Are you trying to kill yourself by spontaneously combusting from not talking for three days straight?" He had to fight back a smile on that one, she did still have her sense of humor. He sat down on the couch and channel surfed until he found something. Mindless sporting match, the Bruins vs Mapleleafs. He didn't have to think to watch it.

"You wanna go skiing?" She asked, sitting down on the love seat with her eggs. He shook his head. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to sit here. Most of all, he wanted to drink. He felt her eyes boring into him, and he still ignored her. "Dammit Garret, at least say something."

"Something." He replied and she groaned.

"Garret, please. Let me help you."

"I told you how you could help me." He replied, never turning his attention from the TV.

"Garret, do you have any clue how much you mean to other people? Do you know how much you mean to Lily? To Bug? To Nigel? To me? We've all sat on the sidelines watching as you slid further and further away from us-the same damn thing you did with Abby, we didn't want to see it, same way you didn't want to see her, but I'm not going to let that happen with you Garret, one person who died because nobody wanted to see is enough. You mean something to us Garret." He shrugged.

"I don't care." He said coldly, cruelly.

"Dammit Garret! Care about something, will you? What happened to passion you used to have-the fire, the spark, the Garret that would fight for what he thought no matter what?" He shrugged.

"Guess the fire got washed out." He said, taking another swig of coffee.

"Garret, you're my best friend, you're the last person I have left. My dad's run off someplace, I don't have Woody to turn to, you're my last one left-" He shrugged.

"I didn't ask to be that person, the last one you had left. I didn't say I wanted to be the one to hold you up." He got up to go refill his coffee mug and she followed him.

"You know what? Those nightmares of yours have something right. You're nothing more than a selfish bastard, you really are incapable of caring for anyone else on the planet aren't you? You're nothing more than the biggest, most selfish-" She was cut off by the impact of his fist.

They stood there in stunned silence for a long second. He stared down at his hand, still clenched, before looking back up at her. She had put a hand to her mouth, and he could see a slight trickle of red from between her fingers. He collapsed into a chair, head between his hands, and gave in, letting his whole body shake as he collapsed into sobs.