"Nicky, why would I lie to you?"

Marka stood up, huffing a sigh, wondering how on earth it had got to such a point where her daughter thought she would lie about traffic rather than spend time with her. Maybe because she had spent every waking hour working when Nicky was small, or maybe because Nicky would rather spend two hours on a jammed highway than spend an hour with her mother, but whatever the reason it highlighted the rift between them more than ever. The session was almost over and yet they'd circled back to the same point they'd been stuck on since the beginning.

Nicky stared at a spot on the wall. It hadn't been there in her last session, she was sure of it. Had someone hurled something at the wall? She felt like doing that now. She lifted her chin up as Dr Jones cleared her throat.

"I don't know," Nicky admitted gruffly, her chin jutted out. She pressed her lips together, folding her arms across her chest. "I don't know why you do most things, though."

"Well," Marka said, nodding softly, "That makes two of us, then."

Her calmness was infuriating to her daughter. Marka never got as angry as Nicky did. Not like Red did. Things weren't thrown in arguments, curse words rarely flew from her lips. Instead she got rather quiet, softly disappointed. It was almost worse than being yelled at, because she never quite knew where she stood.

Nicky turned to Dr Jones. "This isn't working."

"I agree," Dr Jones said, to Nicky's surprise. "But I suspect you don't particularly want it to work. Is that correct?"

"I meant the whole fucking thing," Nicky snapped, looking unabashed even as Marka blushed at her language. "This place..it isn't me."

"Why do you think that is?" Dr Jones asked. She leaned back in her chair. "I'd be interested to find out so that I can tailor your programme to you. After all, that is what this whole thing is about; you."

Nicky shrugged but looked unwilling to provide any other explanation. "How should I know? You're the therapist."

Dr Jones sat forward in her seat. "I think you don't want it to work so that you have something to blame if you run into some difficulties," Dr Jones said slowly. "You know that no-one is going to expect you to be perfect when you leave here, don't you? But if you self-sabotage this stay, and reconnecting with your mother, then you have something to blame it on when things get tricky in life and you perhaps relapse, though of course we hope that doesn't happen."

"No," Nicky said, but her voice was softer than it had been previously. She dug her fingernails into the soft velvet of the armchair.

"It's okay to be scared of that," Dr Jones continued. "Everyone is, I think. But if you have your mother by your side and you complete your programme here, then things will be easier. I think if you really gave it a try, you would be surprised."

"She's got a lot of willpower when she wants to have," Marka interjected, looking a little awkward to be speaking. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before continuing. "She's always been stubborn. She once sat at the dinner table for three hours refusing to eat a single piece of broccoli."

"That's hardly the same thing as kicking heroin," Nicky snapped. "Which, by the way, is beside the point. Seeing as I haven't touched a drop of anything in months. And that was without a 'programme'," Nicky added disparagingly. "Only Red."

"Yes, and for that I am proud of you!" Marka exploded. "But you can't be sober for Red! Or for me, or for anyone! Nicky, you have to be sober for you. Because you want to be."

Dr Jones nodded approvingly. "Well said."

That was a lot for Nicky to take in. As much as she wanted to cling onto the words "I am proud of you,'' her own pride couldn't take it.

"Is that the same for being here?" Nicky challenged. "Should I want this for myself?"

Marka quickly held her hands up. "Nicky, don't-"

"I'm only here because my 'mom'," she spat, as if the word itself left a bitter taste in her mouth, "bribed me to be here."

Marka swallowed hard. "She is making that sound much worse than it actually is."

Dr Jones nodded slowly. "Why don't you tell me what happened prior to you agreeing to your stay here, Nicky? In your own words and your own time."

Nicky crossed her arms. She had to admit she was hoping for more of a reaction than that, and was left feeling a little deflated when she got none. "She offered to buy me something if I came here."

"A reward for your stay," Dr Jones offered. "That's not unusual, though I would prefer if you stayed for your own benefit rather than for material gain."

"I was only trying to get you to stay," Marka admitted. "Maybe I shouldn't have, but what if I hadn't? You wouldn't have set foot in this place."

Nicky ignored her mother, despite Marka desperately trying to catch her eye. "Two hours is up isn't it, Doc?"

Dr Jones set her pen down and closed her notebook. Glancing at her watch, she nodded curtly. "It is, actually," she said, offering a sympathetic smile to Marka. "Let's set this aside for today. Our next meeting we can go back over anything we missed, but I think it will be good to give you both a rest. Therapy can be tricky and it can be tiring."

"Great," Nicky said. She nodded to Marka. "I hope you make it on time next session."

"I made it on time this session!" Marka yelled as she left, frustration bubbling to her surface. She watched her daughter slam the door behind her and then covered her face. "I just don't know how to get through to her. I honestly don't."

Dr Jones offered up a sympathetic smile once again. "She has to want it too," she said simply, shrugging not carelessly but knowing the practical side of things. "It can't all be one-sided."

"That's easy for you to say," Marka said, rubbing her forehead wearily. "But she isn't exactly leaving me much choice, is she? What if she never puts in the effort? You know what happens then, don't you? She'll be dead! You can't get much more one-sided than that!"

"Mrs Nichols, I can suggest a therapist that you could talk to, if you think that might-"

"No," Marka said, shaking her head and standing, heading for the door. The openness that she had displayed just moments ago had been fleeting and now it was gone, replaced by a sharp coldness. "I'm sorry. I need to get going. Thank you for your time, Dr."

Meanwhile, Nicky slammed her bedroom door shut. Her hands trembling, she desperately wanted a fix. She clawed at the reddening skin on her neck, rubbing at her forehead as she paced up and down her room. She needed something to take the edge off. Anything. Standing in the centre of her room, she stared at the ceiling. Her eyes blurred with tears.

Then she remembered Luschek and his willingness to share. She didn't want to see anyone right now, not whilst her head was so all over the place, but the lure of a cigarette, at least one of her vices, was too tempting. She scraped her hair back against her head, wrenched her door open, and went to hunt him down.

It didn't take long to find him. He was exactly where she had assumed he would be; skulking in a corner somewhere, avoiding work.

"I can see you behind there," Nicky said, her back up against the wall just outside of the studio where Dr Jones held her yoga sessions. "You're not as slick as you think you are."

He raised his eyebrows, sidling out from his not-so-hidden hiding place. "Neither are you," he said, eyeing her up and down. "Want a cigarette?"

Annoyance prickled under her surface. It irritated her that she was so easy to read - but not enough that she was going to cut her nose off to spite her face. "Mhm."

"You're so predictable," he said, rolling his eyes. But he held one out for her and she took it gratefully. He watched for her a couple of seconds as she turned the cigarette in her hand.

"It's not much use without a lighter," she reminded him. Her voice sounded miles away from the cheeky verbal ping pong they had engaged in earlier. Before her whole day had been ruined.

He could see the change in her. Smart or not, he had an idea and was willing to try and cheer her up. She seemed...different, from the other patients. Certainly not less privileged and apparently still blissfully unaware of it, but different in a way that made her somehow more appealing. He jerked his head to the left. "Come on. Let me show you something cool."

He started walking and she followed him, up a staircase, and then another and another, until he reached a tall metal door. Pulling out a ring of keys, he turned one in the lock and groaned to push the huge door open. It too creaked in protest, its hinges screaming with rust. He turned to her with a grin.

"Hang on," he said, eyeing her up. He looked at her red rimmed eyes, her puffy eyelids, the way her shoulder slumped. "You're not one of those patients, are you?" He ran his fingernail down his forearm in a slicing motion.

Nicky remained unimpressed and shifted her weight to her other foot, raising her eyebrows. "No," she said. "I'd definitely go out with an overdose."

His hand hovered over the handle, processing what she just said. You know what I meant."

"I did," she confirmed, watching him hesitating. "I'm kidding. I wouldn't be that much of an asshole to Red." She paused for a moment. "Or my mom."

"Good," he said, and he found that he meant it. He moved to let her pass. "I don't think anyone even uses up here anymore, you know," he said. "I guess rooves aren't so good for desperate people."

"I guess not." She stepped through the doorway and was instantly flooded by light. Blinding, brilliant sunlight. It dazzled her as she stepped out into it. She put her face up to the sky. "It's beautiful out here," she murmured.

"Quiet," he said, "I think that's the word you're looking for."

Quiet wasn't quite the word that came to mind. Traffic rushed around down below. Cars honked. People yelled. Birds sang. But there was a simple stillness to the air, and she thought that was what he meant.

She walked around the edge of the roof, looking down. The edge came up to her ribcage and made it hard to see, but if she craned her neck, she could just make out the people walking below. She wondered if those people sometimes felt the way she did right now. Empty. Alone. With no purpose. She sighed and rested on chin on the cold stone.

"Got that light?" she asked hopefully as he stood beside her. He nodded and handed it to her and she lit it without stopping to thank him. "It is pretty cool up here," she admitted. "It feels so far away from everyone."

"Yeah," Luschek said, taking back the lighter and lighting his own cigarette, "I think so too."

Nicky looked out over the view. The skyline was enchanting. She looked around the roof for something to stand on, and, after finding an abandoned cinder block, dragged it over to the ledge.

Luschek watched curiously. "Be careful, will you?" he said, eyeing her. "I don't wanna be held on a negligent manslaughter charge."

"My dad's a lawyer, you know," Nicky said as she hopped up onto the ledge. "So good luck with that if it happens."

"Let's hope it doesn't," he said as he reached over to steady her. "Why can't you just enjoy the view from the ground?"

"I always take things too far," Nicky said quietly, still climbing. "That's what everyone says about me."

Luschek held onto her, tilting his head. He knew she wasn't just referring to the roof, but still watched her warily as she wobbled. "Yeah. I can't imagine why."

"It's windy up here," she remarked. "Kind of feels like flying."

"Yeah, well, you know what comes after flying," he said, tugging on her arm. "Come on. Get down now. You're making me nervous."

"Falling," she finished for him. But she began to climb down all the same, grateful that he brought her up there in the first place. But the ledge was slick with the rain that had fallen in the night. Her foot slipped on the side, a piece of metal slicing into her leg. She cried out in pain, her yell echoing in the emptiness.

It wasn't until she saw the look on Luschek's face that she too began to panic. She realized she wasn't holding onto the side anymore. Her hands had instinctively gone to her leg. She was, as he had prophesied; falling, falling, falling.

"Nicky!" Her own name echoed through the air as he screamed for her, unable to do anything but watch helplessly.

A/N:

Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and again, I'm sorry for the delayed update. Let me know what you thought. :)