Part 2: Craig and Ashley get back together!

A/N: Sorry I didn't put this in the last chapter---it would've saved me the trouble, but… yeah. Thanks for your reviews.

Thursday Night, Dinner Table

Joey looked up from his food over at his stepson. "Craig, you've been quiet lately. Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Joey, I'm fine. It's just this stupid wheelchair is annoying," Craig said, not looking at him. Joey continued looking at Craig, keeping a heavy silence until Craig looked up and said, "What? I'm fine!" Joey sighed heavily.

"Craig, you're not 'fine'. Something's bothering you. I understand if you don't want to talk about it now, but you have to talk about it eventually," he said calmly, looking back down at his food.

"So, Joey," Caitlin said suddenly. "I drove by the lot today and it looked busy; getting good business lately?"

"Oh, yeah," Joey said happily. "With all these kids getting their licenses now they're dying to get their own cars, so they come by my lot and get a car."

"Wow. Sounds great. Shouldn't Craig be getting his license sometime soon?" Caitlin asked.

"Uh… yeah, but he hasn't said much about it, though, so I'm not really sure if he even wants a license to drive," Joey said simply.

"I want my license, but I don't think they're really willing to let people in wheelchairs get a driver's license," Craig said, irritated.

"Craig, you've been in a wheelchair for about a day now. You are almost seventeen. You haven't talked about getting a license since you were fourteen. The wheelchair has nothing to do with it," Joey explained. Craig was getting annoyed with Joey and his lame explanations for everything, so he turned away from the table and wheeled himself over to his couch-bed and laid down, covering himself with the blanket. "Come on, Craig, don't act like that," Joey said, standing up and walking over to him.

"Act like what?" Craig demanded.

"I don't know… just… Craig, I'm trying to help you. I've tried to help you since the day I met you, since your mom died, since you moved in, when your dad died, and… Craig, I've always tried to help you. But it seems like every time I try, you get worse."

Craig looked up. "How do I get worse?" he said loudly.

"You just do. It's how you act, Craig. You stole a car from my lot. You cheated on your girlfriend, you thrashed a hotel room, and you yelled at one of your teachers and cut class. I want to help you but you're not working with me." Craig looked up at Joey.

"Okay, so, what? Are you gonna throw me out on the streets? Make me fend for myself? Leave my alone in the cold, cold world and let me die behind a building?" Craig shouted.

"You know I'd never do that. Where do you come up with these thoughts, Craig? All I'm saying is that if you want me to help you, you have to work with me, otherwise I have troubles helping. Okay?" Joey said coolly.

"Fine," Craig said irritably. He laid back down and turned away from Joey. "Now go away."

"Okay," Joey said, patting Craig's shoulder as he walked back the kitchen. "But we're still going to talk later."

Craig sighed and closed his eyes. It felt good to be under the warm blanket. He squirmed under the blanket to get more heat, but found none. "Joey!" he whined.

"Yes, Craig?" Joey called from the table.

"I'm cold, could you get me another blanket?" he cried.

Joey sighed and got up to go upstairs. He came back down and tossed a large, thick blanket on Craig. Craig gave a happy sigh and said, "Thanks, Joey." He was almost asleep, but an hour later, Joey sat down next to him on the couch. "Craig," he whispered.

"What?" Craig muttered, tired.

"Sorry I woke you up, but we need to talk," Joey said quietly.

Craig sighed and sat up. "Okay…let's talk so I can go back to bed," he said.

"I'll try and make it quick," Joey told Craig.

"So…what're we going to talk about?" Craig asked a few minutes later, breaking a silence.

"I needed to ask you what's been bothering you. You didn't eat any dinner and you keep on having these outbursts. I know it's partly because of your medications, but that can't be what's bothering you. Will you tell me?" Joey asked.

"It's not something I like to discuss, but I suppose I'm going to have to sometime."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Ever since the beginning of the summer, I haven't wanted to talk to anyone. Not even Jimmy. I don't know why, but I guess it's just that it's hard for me to keep talking to people who know everything about me, especially you. People at school know almost everything about me and it's irritating. It's always, 'Craig, did you take your meds today?' or 'Don't say that around him, he'll freak out'. I want to be who I was before any of this happened."

"Craig, you're not the one that changed. Maybe when they found out they didn't want to, as you said, 'freak out', because they don't know what to do when you do."

"Joey, I hate who I've been ever since I walked into the hospital and they told me I was insane."

"Craig, you're not insane."

"Bi-polar, insane. It's pretty much the same thing," Craig said simply.

"No, it's not. Insane means you have no control over what you do or think or say, regardless of medications. Bi-Polar is something you can control with medication."

Craig sighed, his eyes beginning to burn. "I don't want to be bi-polar. I want my old life back, Joey."

Joey thought for a minute before saying, "Which one, Craig? The one where you were happy with all your friends that were happy before the shooting? Or the life you had before you were bi-polar?"

"Joey, I don't really care. I want everyone to be happy. But I want to be happy, too. I wish that the shooting never happened. Jimmy wouldn't be in a wheelchair, and Sean never would've moved back with his parents, Emma would still be the same, Ellie wouldn't have a hatred for guys, I wouldn't think about seeing Jimmy almost dead on the floor, we'd still be friends with Spinner, and…I wish it never happened. I'd rather be bi-polar and be able to sleep at night without seeing one of my friend's bodies laying the floor. I hate taking medication, but I hate seeing Jimmy in a wheelchair, and Emma having an STD, not seeing Sean, and just…everything that happened because of Rick. Actually, it's more like Jay, but…that doesn't matter. I want things to be the way they were before the shooting." Craig buried his face in his hands and sighed heavily. The shooting was the last thing he wanted to remember. Joey rubbed his back with one hand.

Joey hugged Craig and Craig hugged him back. He finally fell asleep and Joey covered him up with the two blankets. "Goodnight, Craig," he muttered.

Craig turned in his sleep, but didn't say anything.

The Next Day

Craig went to school, rolling himself there all alone. He met Jimmy at his locker, and he went to class with him. On his way there, he caught a glimpse of Ashley standing with Ellie. She stared at him, but didn't say anything. He gave Ashley a painful look as he passed her, but, as she did, said nothing.

After class, he had to go to English, one of two classes he shared with Ashley. He dreaded seeing her. He didn't want to talk to her, especially not since his only, favorite, Hendrix guitar was stolen because of her. It was one of the things he hated her for.

He'd spent a lot of money on that guitar, and he wished that he hadn't taken it from home.

But, he did, and it was stolen. So, now he was out of a guitar.

Playing guitar was his passion, but he could play ever other instrument, but guitar was his favorite. It sounded better.

In English, he sat as far away from Ashley as he could, which wasn't very far at all. He looked over at her constantly, and every time, she was looking at him. He tried to pay attention, but he couldn't. Craig sighed heavily. He raised his hand. "Ms. Kwan, can I move?" he asked. She thought for a second and said, "Yes, Craig. Do it quickly."

Craig nodded and moved his wheelchair against the back wall. He sat in silence for the rest of the class. He met up with Jimmy again after class. "Man, why'd you move?" he asked as they went down the hall.

"Ash kept staring at me. It was creepy. She probably doesn't even care that I'm in a wheelchair."

"Craig, Ash cares about you. She was upset when you didn't show up for school on Monday. But… you still like her, don't you?"

"I sort of have mixed feelings for her. One part of me wants to kill her for making me lose my guitar, and another part wants to make out with her every time I see her. It's weird."

"Well, let's put it this way------would you hide in a boiler room if your guitar went somewhere? You know, like you did when Ash went to England?" Jimmy asked.

"Probably not."

"Exactly. Ash means more to you than the guitar did. See you after class."
"Later, Jimmy," Craig said. Craig thought about what Jimmy said, barely listening to his science teacher.

Did he really still love Ash? Did he really want her more than his guitar? He looked over at Ashley, who was sitting over with some girl whom he'd never bothered to remember her name. About forty-five minutes later, the bell rang. Craig was still staring at Ashley. Someone came up behind him and said, "Class is over." Craig looked up and saw everyone leaving the room. He picked up his notebook rolled out.

At Lunch

Craig sat with Marco, Ellie, Jimmy, and, to his misfortune, Ashley. He said nothing the entire time, afraid that Ash would find some way of talking to him or asking him a question that he'd have to answer. He took a drink of water and sighed. "Craig," Ellie said. "It must really suck being in a wheelchair with two broken legs."

Craig looked up, knowing he'd have to answer Ellie. "Yeah, it does," he said quietly. He looked back down at his hands. "You know what? I'm not hungry all of a sudden," Craig muttered before turning his wheelchair to leave. He rolled around the tables and went outside in front of the school. He picked himself up out of the wheelchair and sat on the picnic table on the side of the steps.

He buried his head in his hands and sighed. He turned and rested his head on the table. He heard footsteps coming toward him, but didn't think anything of it until—

"Craig, are you okay?" Craig heard a girl's voice and felt her hand on his back. He looked up.

"I'm fine," he lied. He was about to sit back in his wheelchair when Ashley touched his shoulder.

"Craig, wait. Look, I'm sorry about what happened. I need to know what's wrong," she said calmly.

"Ash," he began. "You shouldn't be talking to me. Your mom might see."

"Craig, I don't even care what my mom sees. She could walk in on me making out with you; I'm not going to stop seeing you just because she's a psychotic control freak."

Craig looked over at Ashley, smirking at what she'd just said about her own mother, whom she was usually respectful to. He sat back up on the picnic table. "How've you been?" she asked softly, sitting closer to him.

"I've been okay, I guess. I mean, being in this wheelchair isn't the greatest thing ever, and I'm not sure that my meds are working right, but… other than that, I'm fine."

"Craig, why didn't you finish your lunch?" she asked.

"Because I wasn't hungry," Craig said simply.

"I know you better than that. Why didn't you eat? It was because of me, wasn't it?" she said.

"Yeah. But you didn't really do anything wrong. I just haven't really felt like talking to anyone about anything."

Ashley looked at Craig.
"Oh," said Ashley. "I can see why."

"Yeah… I should probably be going to class."

"Craig!" Ashley said loudly. Craig turned around. "I don't want us to be doing this."

"Doing what?" Craig asked.

"Being apart." Ashley looked sadly at Craig. Craig sighed.

"Ash, you're the one that did this to us. Not me. It's your fault we're apart."

"I know, Craig. But it was a mistake."

"Ash, I thought I was never going to see you again. And after I went back to Joey, I had to go to a therapist every day for a month. And then I finally got over you. And then I see you again here and I fall in love with you all over again." Ashley stared at Craig for a minute.

"Wait," she said. "You mean, you're still in love with me? After all this time, you're still in love with me?"

"Ash, I've been in love with you since I was fourteen. That may sound strange to you, but it's just the way it's been."

"Craig, I want to be with you."

"What, so you can go back to England and get another guitar stolen?" Craig said rudely.

"Whatever it takes to get you to come back."

Craig sat on the picnic table again. "Ash, I've wanted to be with you every day since you left."

"So why won't you be with me now?" she asked sadly.

"Are you freakin' insane? I am with you right now. And I wouldn't want it any other way." Craig kissed Ashley, and it was the best either of them had felt since the beginning of that summer. They made out on the picnic table until Marco came out and said, "Hey, you two! That's all very nice, but I think it's time for class."

The two blushed. Craig sat down in his wheelchair, and he went with Ashley to class. They separated as Ashley went to her own class, and Craig went to his. "Bye, Ash," he said.

"Bye, Craig."

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A/N: HAHA! That's not going to be THE longest chapter in this thing, because part 4 is actually going to be pretty long. Part 3 will be kind of short, though. You know, it took me 3 ½ hours to write this? Yeah, I was keeping track. Okay, R&R. Love y'all. Later.