Author's Note: I think I will continue posting this since there are a couple of people interested and I am not gonna be a bastard and not post because I am not getting a million and a half hits, its those two or three people that are really interested that really matter right? So yeah. Again thanks to Jesse Static for the editing.

Chapter 2

The flash of cameras illuminated the salty night sky. People with tape recorders and microphones fought against each other, shouting their various questions at a brunette man. His head was hung, trying to avoid the flashes that stole his dignity. Ignoring the shouts of the reporters, he focused on the warm metal that was chaffing his wrists. Behind him, two men walked, pushing people aside while they marched him through the crowd.

"Squall, Squall? How does it feel to be back in rehab?" one reporter shouted trusting his microphone in his face.

"Did you know the drug dealer was an undercover cop?" another shouted.

"Will this truly be your last visit here?" questioned someone else. Something about this question made Squall stop. He stared at her with blood shot eyes. The reporter, obviously a rookie, looked stunned and began to quiver. Quickly, Squall sucked in a breath through his nose before unleashing a ball of spit onto the woman. Cameras snapped feverishly and turned to the reporter. The woman reeled back and squealed, wiping the spit from her cheek. One of the guards moved and landed an elbow to the back of the head ordering him to keep moving. Squall winced slightly but let out a low chuckle before moving on.

Finally, the media parade made it inside, safe from the constant flashing and questions.

"Well, well, if it isn't puberty boy. Back again I see," sneered a voice from behind the front desk. Squall raised his head slowly to face the blond male nurse, his upper lip instantly curled in disgust.

"Seifer," Squall growled. The police escorts behind Squall unlocked his cuffs and pushed him forward.

"He's all yours," he said as him and the other man left. Seifer smirked as he watched the two cops leave. As soon as they were out the door, Seifer opened his mouth to speak, but before he could there was loud commotion coming from a near by room. The blond and another nurse ran to see what was happening.

From where he stood Squall could hear a woman's voice screaming threats. Curiosity got the best of him and he followed the path taken by Seifer and the other man.

Inside the room he could make out a pale, black haired woman struggling against the two much bigger men.

"I'll fucking have you all killed," he heard her yell.

Squall chuckled at her words; he instantly liked her because of them.

"Okay, show's over, Puberty boy," Seifer said, push Squall away from the room. "Com'on, your room awaits."

--

Squall lay on his dormitory style bed and flicked on the television set. The room was just how he left it months before. He flicked the channels a few times until his face filled part of the screen.

"In other news Squall Leonhart, son of Estharian President Laguna Loire entered rehab again for the fourth time tonight. Leonhart, now twenty-one was arrested in May for trying to buy heroin off an undercover cop in Timber. However, he managed to escape on only a parole violation charges and sentenced to a year back in rehab. As always, Leonhart made a spectacle of the whole ordeal as he spat into the face of a young reporter before entering the Balamb Rehabilitation Center for Substance and Alcohol Abuse. No word yet as to what provoked the assault.

"Now we head over to Rick Sheridan with your local weather, Rick."

Squall shut off the television before he could get the weather. He wondered how much Laguna would shell out to that girl reporter to keep her from suing.

"Tch, weasel."

Without the television the room was dark, save for the soft glow of the moonlight. Squall leaned back against the headboard of his bed and stared at the ceiling, counting the cork holes.

squall im so proud of you ellone said with a huge smile on her face she hugged him around the middle how was it did they treat you well she asked helping him carry his luggage into the presidential palace the door pushed open revealing

hundreds of people their cheers as he entered shook the tiny apartment he looked to ellone who are these people mike he asked his best friend that rat bastard everybody he slurred the music was pulsating and deafening

the room was mellow a slight purple tint they all sat in bean bag chairs around a hookah comon it wont hurt you mike said handing him a tube the room was lit with illuminated goop floating in water the others sat in their chairs serenely fuck it he decided snatching the tube from the jack ass

His eyes snapped open, pupils shrinking in the new light. A dizzy feeling fell over him as he sat up too quickly. With the hem of his black shirt, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow.

--

It was the same band of idiots, Squall noted as he looked around the cafeteria. A few new faces but they were probably as dumb and pathetic as all the rest. Glancing quickly at the breakfast layout, he remembered that was another bad thing about this place. There was no sugar added to anything and it all tasted like paste or concrete. They were addicts, not convicts. Prisoners received better food then they did.

He quickly grabbed a bottle of water and walked over to the table way in the back and sat down and glared out over the area. As he twisted open the bottle, his vision was suddenly blocked with a blur of yellow. He could feel the headache begin as the girl sat down before him.

"Hiya, Squall," she said almost bouncing back out of her seat.

"Hello, Selphie," he replied monotony. She was a recovering upper addict. The thought of her on a handful of uppers made him wince. She was so fucking bubbly in person it was surprising no one managed to get her addicted to downers. God knows he would have.

"We heard you were coming back. You missed us that much, huh?" she asked, a giant goofy smile plastered on her face.

"Yeah, something like that," Squall replied, taking a swig of his water, wishing it was another clear liquid. He needed something, anything to take the clichéd edge off the day.

"Irvy," Selphie called loudly to a man dressed as a cowboy entering the room. With a grin "Irvy" waved and began walking over.

"Well I'll be, Squall Leonhart, back again I see," he said extending his hand.

"Irvine," Squall greeted with a hint of happiness, standing to shake the cowboy's hand.

"So what brings you here this time?" Irvine asked, both men sitting down.

Squall opened his mouth to respond, but Selphie beat him to the punch. "OhmiGod you haven't seen the news?" she asked shocked. "He tried to score some heroin offa cop, didn't you, Squall?" she asked looking to Squall, who hung his head.

Irvine eyes went wide with laughter. "Shit boy. You were only out for what, three weeks? That's gotta be some record," Irvine chuckled. Then added with a click of his tongue, "Shoot."

The blonde woman in white spotted him almost immediately as she entered the cafeteria. She heard he was coming back. She knew it was bad but was glad he was; she missed him. It was forbidden to carry on with a patient, but it wasn't against the rules to harbor a crush on one.

"Hello, Squall," she said standing before him, cutting over his friends. He looked up; she noted the scowl on his face deepened when their eyes met. She learned not to take it personally; he held the same distain for all the doctors and nurses here.

"Quistis," he replied.

"Hiya, Quisty," Selphie said in her overly hyper manor.

"Good morning, everyone," Quistis said waving to the whole table. "Cid would like to see you," she informed Squall, who rolled his eyes.

"Now?" he groaned. She nodded. Squall quickly flicked his chair back and stood walking to the door, Quistis at his heels.

"I know where it is, you don't have to follow me. I'm not a fucking child," he growled not stopping to look at her. He was getting sick of the desperate way she followed him around like a puppy.

"Oh. Okay then," she said sadly stopping at the nurses' station where Seifer stood. Quistis stood telling herself not to cry as she watched him walk down the hall.

"I wouldn't waste your time on a guy like that," Seifer said behind her. Quickly she wiped a fallen tear and looked to the other guy.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Well," Seifer said leaning on the desk getting closer to Quistis. "For one I think he's gay. He'd have to be not to be in love with you," said Seifer, looking to her hopefully.

"Your pathetic, you know that," she scoffed walking away.

--

Squall stood before a large wooden door, hesitant to knock on the door. He didn't really want to hear what the old man had to say. It was the same old shit. How he was disappointed to see him again. How he was really hoping the last time was just that. How he would really hope he would try to get clean. Blah, blah, blah.

He knocked upon the door and awaited permission to enter. When it was granted, Squall pushed open the heavy doors and stepped in.

"Ah, Squall, just the man I wanted to see," Cid said cheerily, standing from behind his desk. "Have a seat," he offered.

"Thanks." Squall nodded and sat at the chair directly across from Cid. He looked across the wide oak desk as the old man adjusted his glasses. This was it, the long, boring speech.

"I've had it with you, Squall," the old man said with a sigh. Wait a minute… This isn't how the speech usually began.

"Sir?" His head cocked to the side.

"I'm serious. You don't comply with anything. You don't accept our help, you treat this place like a hotel, and when you finally get out you screw up again and end up back here again."

"I just can't seem to stay clean, sir. I'm weak," Squall said, feigning innocent.

"Cut the bullshit, boy. You use this as a prison alternative. You don't want to be clean, and I am sick of wasting my time and money on you," the old man said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Will all due respects sir, most of the money comes from my father," Squall replied, getting angry.

"That maybe so, but that doesn't make you head honcho here, and if I say I don't want you back here again if you fuck up after this, then I don't have to," Cid shot back, his own anger rising.

"You can't do that," Squall shouted, slamming his fist on the table.

"Watch me."

--

"That son of a bitch. Who does he think he is? My father is president of Esthar. I am Squall Leonhart. He has no right to speak to me like that," Squall's mind grumbled and he stormed down the hallways.

As he turned the corner he ran into something hard, causing him to fall over. Squall quickly leapt to his feet ready to kill whatever ran into him.

"Heeeeeeeey, Squall. What's up?" an excited blond man asked.

"Hi, Zell," Squall grumbled wiping at his pant legs.

"Dude I never thought I would see you here again," exclaimed Zell.

"Yeah, well, shit happens."

"Ain't that the truth," Zell agreed and began running in place. "So what are you doing here?" Squall's eyes rolled at the obvious question.

"Recovering from a drug habit," he relied in a robotic tone.

It was Zell's turn to roll his eyes, "Duh," he replied. "What are you doing here?" He motioned to the hallway. Squall turned the slightest tint of red from embarrassment.

"Looking for someone," he replied.

"Who?" Zell questioned intrigued that the all mighty lone wolf was actually seeking someone.

"A girl."

"Really? A girl?" the blond asked with complete surprise. Squall shot a glare his way.

--

Squall sat down outside in the quad surveying the scenery. He enjoyed the quiet the outside provided; he could smoke outside, too. He tore off the packaging around the pack and began smacking it with the heel of his hand. Breaking opened the pack, he placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it before placing the pack into his coat.
It had been almost a week since he had seen that girl, he noted, taking a drag. He started to wonder if she had been a crazy withdrawal hallucination. But then why would Seifer and the other guy have fought with a ha-

It was as if on cue she entered on the other side of the courtyard, wincing at the light. She stopped suddenly and smelled the air.

"Is she high?" he wondered to himself. He watched carefully as she approached him. She was good looking in real light, he noted, but was in terrible shape. The sun was like a spotlight accentuating her frail frame. Cocaine, he suspected, from the way she looked like she hadn't eaten anything in years. Drugs really did fuck people up, he thought.

"Hey," she said to him taking a seat at the other end. "Can I bum one off you?"

"How 'bout a cookie?" his mind offered. Deciding it was safer not to say anything; he pulled back out his pack and tossed it to her. He had to refrain from chuckling at the way she tore into the pack like a starving dog at a piece of meat. He opened his lighter for her, to which she looked overly grateful.

"Thanks," she said after taking a long drag. He shrugged in reply never one for gratitude. "I'm Rinoa, by the way," she said. He knew that name.

"I know who you are," he replied, not bothering to look up at her. From the corner of his eye he could see her look at him confused. "Your father is the fucking general of the fucking Galbadian army."

"She's Caraway's bratty socialite daughter. She used to be hot. Damn you drugs," his mind thought.

"Yeah," she giggled. "That's me."

"I'm Squall," he replied, hoping she wouldn't recognize him, but from the way she was looking at him, she did but couldn't place it.

"Do you mind?" he asked turning to her.

"Sorry," she said looking away from him. He noticed the shiner over her left eye; no doubt from Seifer.

"I take it you met Seifer," he said looking at her.

"Who?" she asked, flicking some ash from her cigarette.

"Seifer. He's a nurse here. He tends to get a bit rough," he said motioning to her black eye.

"Oh. They told me I hit myself. Is that scar on your face from this Seifer?" she asked.

"This?" he asked touching his forehead. She nodded. "No, this is what happens when you do pay your dealer exact change."

"Oh, well jokes on him. It makes you look even hotter," she said. He noted the look on her face, looking as if she couldn't believe she said that. He chuckled.

"Thanks."