Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. And don't try to sue me, because all I have is a shitty PT Cruiser, some Ikea furniture, and $70,000 in student loan debt.

Also, thank you to more commas than necessary for the review.

Draco was lying in a bed at St. Mungo's feeling worse than he had in a very long time. Not only was he going through withdrawals from being suddenly forced off of the Opius Potion, he was starting to relive the memories that he took the potion to keep buried. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw another atrocity. His mother's face when his father was sent to Azkaban. The terrifying year he spent trying to mend the vanishing cabinet. That night on the Astronomy Tower. Watching the murder of that Muggle Studies professor in his house. Practically being held prisoner in his own home and being forced to live with Voldemort and various other Death Eaters. The Battle of Hogwarts. The fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement. The entire wizarding world looking at his family like they were the scum of the earth because of their role in the war. Discovering his parents' bodies. All of it was enough to make even the strongest person break, but Draco never thought himself to be a strong person to begin with. Sure, he played the part well in his youth, but the more that he witnessed and the more that he was forced to participate in, the weaker he felt. It was his self-perceived weakness that drove him to try the potion in the first place.

At first he used Dreamless Sleep potions to keep the nightmares at bay so that he could sleep and somewhat function. But after continued use, he began to develop a tolerance to it, and eventually, no matter how much he took, it had no effect. He began to fear falling asleep, because he knew that his subconscious would continually punish him and the second he closed his eyes the events would unfold over and over again. He would go without sleep for days at a time, only succumbing to slumber when his body just could not handle being awake any longer. But even then, it was only a momentary reprieve. He knew that he had to do something; he felt so much pain when he was awake. He felt it even more when his defenses were down when he was trying to sleep. He was desperate and willing to try anything to make the pain stop. He had tried everything he could think of from the more reputable apothecaries, there was no potion that he could find or any remedy he could concoct to dull the constant pain he felt. It was out of sheer desperation that he found himself in the Knockturn Apothecary. He was loath to go into Knockturn Alley, but he knew that if he was going to find anything that would help him, it would be there. The only other option was to let himself go completely mad or bring the pain to a more permanent end. Little did he know that this impulsive decision to go to Knockturn Alley that day would wreak such havoc on his life, not that his life hadn't been a disaster to begin with. It was that day that he was introduced to the Opius Potion. It was that day that he was finally able to numb the pain. He felt free for the first time in years. And he was willing to do whatever it took to keep that feeling. So began his descent into the depths of his addiction, and his disregard for the consequences of purchasing and using such an illegal potion. He was finally able to get through the day, he was able to sleep without the nightmares. As long as he didn't run out of the potion, he was able to push through and keep going. But now he was facing the most terrifying thing he could think of. He was going to have to feel everything he buried by using the potion. He was going to be wrecked both physically and mentally. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

It had only been a few hours since he had been brought to St. Mungo's, and even though Potter had insisted it was the best place for him, he couldn't understand why. As soon as he arrived, they locked him in a solitary room with a bed and a bucket. He knew why the bucket was there; eventually he was going to be vomiting more than Weasley did with that backfiring slug curse. He was already feeling shaky and sweaty, like he had run a marathon while simultaneously having the flu. It was only going to get worse, and when coupled with the mental effects he was starting to feel, he knew he was fighting a losing battle. The images of his past were beginning to race through his head. The healers were going to do nothing to help him with any of the physical or mental anguish he was going to go through. They were simply keeping him locked up with minimal facilities, something that could have been done just as easily at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was trapped in a room alone with his thoughts, and suddenly the room began to feel very claustrophobic. He started sweating even more profusely, the panic beginning to rise, the bile beginning to rise in his throat. At this point he wished for nothing more than to be dead. He did not want to live his life this way. He would rather be dead than feel everything that was beginning to descent upon him. But there was nothing in the room that would facilitate his wish, so he did the only thing he could do. He fell to his knees and let out a guttural wail and screamed until he could scream no more. And once he tired of screaming, he felt the sobs begin to wrack his body. Why did I have to survive, he thought. Why couldn't Voldemort have just killed me? Why am I still here? I don't want to live anymore!

Just as he was having these thoughts, the door to his room opened. He looked up and saw Pansy standing in the door, with silent tears streaming down her face. She stood there just looking at him, taking in the scene and how absolutely destroyed he looked. She had never seen anything more devastating. It felt like an eternity for both of them, as he was incapable of looking her in the eyes, and she had no words to speak. The situation was horrific and surreal at the same time. Pansy never thought that she would see such a broken Draco Malfoy, and she didn't know what to do. She had no clue how to help him; she just knew that she couldn't leave him to be in this state. So she did the only thing she could think of. She sat next to him on the floor while he was still shaking, partly from the withdrawals and partly from his tears. She put her arms around him and pulled him close to her and held him. She didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but it felt right and he didn't push her away, so she stayed like that for several minutes. After a few more moments, she finally spoke.

"Draco," she started. "I won't even pretend to understand why you went down this path, but I am going to be here for you. And we are going to get through this. Together."

Draco looked up at her. "I am not worth the pain. I am not worth the trouble. I am nothing more than a basket case with a shitty past and no future. Don't drag yourself down with me. You have so much going for you, so much to live for. You don't need me. My life is over. Really, I don't know if my life even really started. It was like I was destined to become this, you know? Everyone always thought I lived this amazing life with all of the money and material objects, but really my life was a shit show. My childhood was filled with my father's regret that Potter took down Voldemort. My adolescence was filled with my father's determination to help Voldemort succeed, even allowing me to be used like some kind of god damn sacrificial lamb. My adulthood has been nothing more than trying to block out the memories and the pain of the past. I don't think I have ever truly been alive. And I don't have it in me to try anymore. There is no getting past this, Pans. I just want it all to be over. I've done terrible things, I've been a horrible person, consider this my punishment and my penance for everything I've put everyone through."

"No," she replied. "I refuse to let you just give up. It may not seem like it right now, but there are things worth living for. There are people out there who have nothing, who are completely alone, yet they manage to keep going. You will make it through this. Because I will be here to help you, and so will Blaise. Do you have any idea how scared I was when Harry fucking Potter was flooing me from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the middle of the night? When he told me what was going on, I didn't want to believe it. But as I was rushing over here, it began to make sense. It explained a lot of odd behaviors from you that I didn't always understand. And I know you feel like you can't live without the potion, and that your life is not worth living, but I promise you it is. And I will be here for you. You are not alone. You are worthy. You are a beautiful human being who has just found himself in a fucked up situation."

"I am none of those things. I'm a perpetual failure. I failed at being a Death Eater. I failed at protecting people I cared about. I failed at saving my friend that night in the Room of Requirement. Are you noticing a theme here? I'm nothing more than a fuck up and a failure, who tried to deal with his fuck ups and failures in a way that only made them even worse. Do you know what it's like to see death and destruction every time you close your eyes? To know that it is your fault that people are dead? I have to live with that every damn day, and if I have to feel all of it, it's going to kill me anyway. All I am is a bunch of broken memories and failures and that is not something worth saving. I am nothing. I am less than nothing. And the sooner you realize this, the better off you will be."

"And the sooner you stop being such a stubborn arse and realize that I'm not going anywhere, the easier this is going to be. I'm not going anywhere, Draco Malfoy. No matter how hard you try to push me away, no matter how much you think you don't matter, I will be here annoying the hell out of you until you realize that you do matter and that you are worthy. You know how determined I can be, especially when it comes to something or someone I care about."

Draco sat there in silence for a few moments. He was hearing what she was saying, but he didn't want her to be saying it. He would much rather hear her berating him and confirming what he knew, that he was nothing. What he could not deal with, what he absolutely could not handle was someone trying to convince him that he was worth anything. It would be so much easier if nobody cared, because then he could just let go without any consequences. But he knew that he didn't want to cause anyone else more pain. He had caused enough pain in his life. But he didn't know how he was going to keep going through this whole ordeal. As though she could read his mind, Pansy held on to him tight, letting him know through her embrace that she was refusing to let him go. And in that moment, he knew he was going to have to try to deal with all of his baggage, not just for his sake, but also for Pansy's. And the thought of having to deal with everything, coupled with his physical problems caused him to break Pansy's hold on him and reach for the bucket. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but he also knew it was a road he would not be travelling alone, no matter how desolate it might seem.