Author's Note: So I guess no one really liked Chapter 3 huh? Was it the sex or the fact I gave my Beta the chapter off? Oh well you win some you lose some, I suppose. Hopefully this chapter is better for you. My Beta, Jesse Static, who is back from "sabbatical," says it's the best drug scene ever and I nailed Squall's character like it was my job. Hopefully more people will read this chapter. Not that I am threatening to stop writing if I don't get six-million reviews. I hate people like that. Anyways, drop a line if you like it or if you have some criticism. (Note: if you don't know how to write that last bit I wrote a section on that in Jesse Static's and my forum- Fandom Forgot ItsMeds. Her title not mine).

Chapter4

Being in rehab wasn't so bad once you got out of detox. The only bad thing to deal with was the mental cravings. Well, that and the stupid required group therapy sessions. They were only whine fests.

"My mommy married anyone who walked by so I smoke pot."

"My girlfriend broke up with me so I do lines of coke."

"People called me fat so I shoot up heroin."

This was the part of the stint Squall hated most. The glorified AA meetings, as he called them. No, they were more like self-pity groups aimed to make you weak enough to send you to AA meetings as soon as you got out of here. It was a waste of two hours. He was sick of listening to them bitch about how reality sucked and they needed a little something to get them through the day. Pussies. They were those people who have been raised on principles of fairy tales and the lie that good always triumphed over evil. Then they "grew up" and broke down when they never got their "happily ever after." The Woodsman was too late and Red Riding Hood was digested. Tch, those fuckers knew nothing of reality.

Squall sat in the chair, closest to the door. As soon as the clock struck six he was out. He watched the people nervously shuffle in one by one. Some gave him dirty looks for getting the premium spot; he wasn't the only one who hated this part. She walked in, completely oblivious to him. He let out a high pitched whistle, startling her. Rinoa turned and smiled realizing who it was.

"Hey," she said cheerily, taking a seat next to him. Squall merely nodded his acknowledgment. The last few people shuffled in, along with an older woman in a white lab coat.

"Welcome everyone. I see we have a great deal of new comers," she said looking around the circle of chairs. Her face stopped at Squall's and the smile fell. "And some returning." He inwardly chuckled at her response to him. Sure he wasn't the most productive person in group, but damnit he gave those people a real perspective. Telling them to shut the fuck up and quit bitching was sound advice. Babying them wasn't going to get them anywhere. They had been so out of it for so long, they needed a good reality check.

"Well, since we have so many new faces, I think it would be best if we got to know some of our new friends." She looked around the room. "Okay. Do we have any volunteers who want to tell us who they are and their story?" The room remained silent. Squall again bit back a chuckle as the doctor's expectant face fell.

"I want to let you know now that this is a safe environment. What's said in group stays in group, but there is no pressure to speak." A timid young man raised a shaky hand. He couldn't have been more than eighteen and weighed at most one-hundred pounds. He was as pale as Rinoa was, but even made her look fat.

"Alright. Stand up, tells us your name and why you turned to drugs," the doctor said, stepping out of the middle of the circle and taking seat in an empty chair at the top of the circle.

"I-um, m-my name is N-Nida," the boy stammered, looking over to the doctor who nodded in support.

"What's your addiction, Nida?" she asked kindly. Nida shook like a cold Chihuahua.

"Heroin," he said softly, holding out his arms. The room gasped the bruises on his inner arm and the mangled, discolored veins.

--

"Why don't you speak up?" Rinoa asked. Her face contorted with disgust as she pushed the browning piece of broccoli around the tray with a plastic fork. Squall shrugged and shoveled more food into his mouth. The taste was revolting, but he had to keep up appearances so Rinoa would eat as well.

"Eat," he demanded with a full mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's impolite. Didn't your mother teach you anything?" Rinoa asked wagging a piece of greenish vegetable at him. Squall swallowed hard, his eyes went distant. His mouth opened to say something but stopped.

"Shut up," he spat finally.

"What?"

"I said, 'shut up,'" he repeated.

"No, no I heard that. But you were going to say something before," she said, dropping the fork into a pile of food. He knew she was stalling.

"Forget it," he replied, tapping her tray.

"Com'on, Squall. You have to let people know what's on your mind."

"Why? What's it going to prove?" he challenged. Damnit, he was playing into her stall tactics.

"You can't bottle everything up. You'll go crazy. Don't you ever just want to get things off your chest? You'd be amazed at how liberating it feels," she said spreading her arms out and leaning back in her chair. Squall watched the girl before him and thought a moment. Banishing the smirk from his face when Rinoa sat back upright, he looked at her seriously.

"Okay." She smiled broadly at her victory. "You need to eat. You look like a fucking skeleton." The smile fell from her face. "You're right, that is liberating."

She crossed her arms across her chest and huffed, "That's not what I meant."

Squall let out a little chuckle. "What did you mean then?"

"I mean in group, Squall. Tell everyone why you are here. Opening up isn't a bad thing."

"Yes it is."

"No it isn't."

"Yes it is."

"No it's-

"Drop it," he yelled over her. "Nothing good can come from my telling anyone my problems."

"How do you know unless you tr?" she countered.

"I did, and it almost killed me. Now eat your goddamn food," he said forcefully picking up his fork and shoveling in more slop.

"I don't believe you," she said under her breath, picking up her fork again.

--

the smoke filled his lungs making his throat tingle he choked it back out the giant room erupted with laughter

he was three inches tall but it was funny how being this short made one so hungry the funion was huge he noted looping around his neck his mouth was cotton get me a beer he demanded

he stumbled in through the front door not bothering to be quiet about it the funion now in a liquid mass on the floor his head being smashed by his fathers fists thats okay he couldnt feel it jaw forehead nose jaw cheek eye floor tasting funion and beer and bile and blood too drunk to get up too high to care

he was dizzy always dizzy fifty pound head the blood shot eyes the dark circles the peach fuzz on his chin the large lumps the deep cuts mommy he cried

Sweat. There was always sweat with dreams like that. Dreams, memories, he wasn't sure anymore. What did it matter? They were bad either way. No drug took them away, he knew that much. If drugs didn't stop them why did that stupid bitch doctor think talking about them would? How was telling your problems to a bunch of strangers that didn't give a rat's ass about you supposed to help end nightmares? How did unloading your burdens on someone else help? Doesn't it just add to theirs? Everyone has their own problems, their own personal demons, so how is unloading your own on them going to help anyone? In the end don't you just end up carrying each other's burdens when the idea was to rid yourself of them?

"Who gave them the right to carry my problems, anyway? They are mine to carry. And I sure as hell don't wanna listen to their bullshit," he thought pounding his fist into the sheets. "Fuck them. They don't know me. So who are they to judge my problems? I don't need their fucking pity. Fuck them all."

--

"Squall, it's your turn," the doctor said. Eyes focused on him, sympathetic, angry, indifferent, pleading. He didn't look up from the spot on the floor but he cool feel each set. Eyes quickly flicked to the clock. Fuck, fifteen minutes, there was no way he could stall that long.

"Squall," the doctor interjected. "If you don't speak, we won't leave." Eye brows fell, lips pursed, holes burned into the back of his skull. His eyes quickly shot to Rinoa and her thin, sharp, pale cheeks. Malnutrition. This was unethical and most likely illegal. You couldn't force a patient to speak. I have a right to remain silent, damnit.

"Fuck you," he tried to say but his mouth wasn't getting the signal. All other eyes angry, they knew he wouldn't talk. Her's were caring. Still caring and warm, damn her. She didn't care if she ate anytime soon. She learned how to function like that years ago.

His father's face flashed in his mind.

"Fuck you," he always said, his usual warm face turned sour on him. "Because of you she's dead you fucking murderer. It should have been you, not her. Fuck you."

"Well, Squall?" the doctor asked expectantly.

The clock ticked, eyes grew more murderous. His still focused on the carpet.

"He hated me," he finally said quietly. "He hated me because she died." Tears stained his face. Fuck them all. "Drugs were my only escape. My only friend. They made the pain stop. The pain he caused. That's why. Because it should have been me. I should be dead."

When his head raised from the spot on the floor, he could see tears. Their eyes; pity. The doctor moved to place a reassuring hand upon his shoulder.

"It's okay-"

Squall snapped up, knocking over his chair. He slapped the doctor's hand away with his own before letting out a roar of anger and storming from the room. The doctor reeled her hand back to her chest holding it in fear. Rinoa looked around the room at the astonished faces and ran after Squall.

She saw his form stalking down the hallway. She tried to call after him but he ignored her calls. She began to run toward him but stopped. Would he want to talk to her? No, that was a given. She was afraid of what he might do to her if she followed. She didn't know what he was capable of , and that roar was terrifying. Rinoa let out a nervous sigh before slowly making her way to the lion's den.

The room was dark. His shades where down blocking out most of the remaining daylight. He was hurting and she didn't know how to help. There he lay, broken on his bed. Speaking his demons only made him worse. Just like he said they would. He said it would only cause him more pain, more pain for everyone and he was right. He was right and she was the one to push him. She was at fault for pushing him. Shit, why did her good intentions always come back to bite her in the ass? How could she help him now? Her previous attempts landed her here. It was going to get worse if she helped again. It always did, she was a curse.

There was no way she could help. Her only solutions go you kicked out. He already had so many strikes against him, one more and he was out for good. He needed to be here, more than anyone.

She dropped to the floor in the corner of the dark room, knees in her chest. Life was a bitch without drugs in your system, she noted bitterly. All she could do was cry. It was all too much. She needed a hit of something, anything to clear her mind, to take her as far away from that room as possible. Her body suddenly ached with craving. Violently shaking, she couldn't deal with these feelings. Rinoa fell to the flood in fetal position, biting back the tears, the screams of, "Dear God why me?" She clutched the ring that hung from her neck, "Mommy," her mind cried.

Rinoa sensed him; she looked up to see his form looming above her. The only feature she could make out was his eyes. Soulless, lifeless, brilliant blue piercing into her, like something from a cartoon.

Effortlessly, he pulled her to her feet and slammed her body into the wall. She cowered beneath him. His hand rose threateningly, the tears now flowing freely from her eyes. She let out a squeal as the hand lowered.

He pushed her toward the door, the raised hand pointed.

"Go," he ordered. Rinoa stood frozen in fear.


Author's Note: I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry, but there will be some kick ass Squall/Rinoa scenes next chapter. I promise. Just go with me on this. I know what I am doing! Until next time...