Chapter Eleven: What We Need To Hear
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Sixteen Years After Mark Left
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The newly sixteen year old made his way through the people grinding, and drinking to find what he was looking for.

"Cohen. I had a feeling I'd see you here."

Shea simply handed over his cash, and made his way out into the Chicago winter with his newly acquired package. He took a moment to empty the baggie before heading towards home. He had been using for over a year, his head-start, he'd been caught once, but he had managed to bullshit his way out of it, and his dad had been desperate enough to believe him. He had been grounded though, for bringing it within distance of Micah. His dad had been right though, he should have never have brought it home, not where the almost three year old could get a hold of it. So he always finished it off before he got home. Besides, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

He began climbing up the stairs of the apartment building and stumbled into the apartment nearly tripping over several of the toys scattered along the living room floor.

"Where were you?" The voice of his brother came as he came into the room they shared. "You smell like...you weren't? Shea? Shea?"

Shea was vaguely aware that something felt different, but didn't pay much mind as he passed out.

The next thing he was aware of was their voices, he could hear them, and he could hear enough to know where he was. But with the pain he was suddenly aware of he didn't want them to know he was awake. After awhile the voices died down and when he was sure they were asleep, he opened his eyes, slowly sitting up in bed, fighting the pain. He tried getting up, but the pain...maybe he should make his escape later...no he had to get out...

"If I were you I'd keep your ass in that bed."

What the hell was he doing here? But, none the less he stopped.

"What is it you want to hear, Shea? Sympathy? Why in the hell would be so stupid?"

Shea looked at him eyes blazing, "I don't care tricks your sperm did, you're not my dad I don't have to explain myself, ."

"No, no, Shea, I'm not. I know that too. But you know the really sad part, is that you don't deserve the one you do have."

He said it simply, and he knew he caught the boy off guard. "Look, Shea, you've made it perfectly clear that you hate me, and I really don't blame you. But your dad has work his ass of for you and this is what you do."

"He doesn't care! He hasn't since Mimi told us! If he cared he would have stopped me."

"No. If you cared about him you wouldn't have started."

"I care. I care. It-it-it doesn't matter, I'm going to..."

"Die? Yeah, it happens to all of us. Yeah, you might go a little sooner, and you'll go even quicker if you keep this shit up."

Roger knew Shea blamed him for a lot of things, but he was going to have to get over it. As the teenager laid back down on the bed Roger knew he had won for now but he knew he hadn't gotten trough to him.

Shea went home a week later, home because Mark knew that rehab wouldn't work unless Shea wanted it to work. So he just had hope that he would soon. The second night home Shea couldn't sleep, he needed a fix, and at the same time he didn't want one. He didn't know which one was worse. His eyes went towards the door as London came into the room, those stupid movies. He waited till he knew London was asleep and then got up, moving towards the living room. Shea saw that the box he and London had never been allowed to watch laid open. The film flickering on the wall was of a red head in a bath tub her wrist slashed open, Roger sweating and screaming, and it continued on the wall. Shea just stood in the open hall way and watched. In the light of the movie he could see tears streaming silently down his father's face.

Just as Shea began to turn away as the movie ended and his dad put in another one. He suddenly heard his dad's voice break through the silence.

"I'm sorry."

He turned around to see his dad wasn't talking to him but to the wall. Images of two baby boys sat smiling, the camera focused on one bouncing up and down laughing on the onsie he could see 'Shea' stiched on it.

"I'm sorry. I tried." His dad's voice was cracked by the sobbing and Shea could take it any more and went back to his bed. Staring at the ceiling he couldn't take it any more.

He waited until he saw the lights dim and Mark had passed their room stopping by both the twins' room and Micah's room. Shea swung himself out of the bed and grabbed a sweater from the closet, not caring it was London's. He grabbed a bag and stuffed it with some clothes before searching for some money to get out. He opened the chest of drawers next to his bed and found his wad of cash that he used to get his hits, but it wouldn't cover him to get out of this mess. He began to looke through some of the selves on London's side for some cash,

"Shea? What are you doing?"

"I-I-I just need some cash."

"For what? No, Shea, I'm not going to help you do this to yourself."

"No. Not for a hit...I-I-I need to get out...I'm gonna get help, Dunn."

"Yeah, right. Shea, do you really think I'm gonna believe that?"

"I'm not lying. I can't do this to Dad, anymore."

"And you're just starting to care?"

Shea knew his brother had a point. "You're right, but I'm going either way. You're cash just decides if I'm walking or not."

"You swear? And if don't get clean..."

"You have every right to never speak, see or associate with me."

"I was going to say kill you, but that works too...Fine...but I'm taking you, I'm buying the ticket and I'm watching you leave."

Shea hung his head nodding slightly. "Okay."

As London got dressed Sheah made his way into what used to be the guest room. A small blonde three year old was asleep on the 'big boy bed'...

"Bye Little man."

"You ready?" London's voice came from behind him

Shea nodded and the two of them made their way out of the apartment building and towards the bus station. Shea watched as his brother paid for the ticket and then went to where Shea would board.

"Are you sure about this?" London asked "There's places closer to home where you can get..."

"No." Shea said. "No."

"Fine."

London just nodded understanding, he didn't know how but he always understood.

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Until next time, this is me...signing out.