Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. I promise.

A/N: Yeah… I haven't been on this site in a few years, outside of the very limited amount of writers, well, one writer that I still read from. But I might be here for a while. I'm currently unemployed while I'm trying to get ready for graduate school, so I'll be here for a few, weeks, maybe, trying to finish up a few stories. This one was on the top of my list, since I think it has the most potential. Anyway, as ever, if you like what you read, please shoot me a review.

"Shit." He stuck his thumb in his mouth, looking and quietly panicking as several droplets of blood sprinkled over the pages of his worn composition notebook. He sucked on the small paper cut, swearing as he jumped up from his bed, looking for something to wrap up the wound. "Fuck."

"What the hell did you do?" Mikey smirked as came up behind Craig, grabbing the first aid kit. "Break a nail?"

"Fuck off." Craig was always slightly squeamish around blood, having drawn more of it than he was willing to admit around the present company, but he needlessly combed through the container, snatching whatever he could. "No alcohol wipes?"

"Has alcohol in it. The best thing we got is iodine, but that shit is worse than anything you might have managed to do to yourself."

"Fair enough." Craig pulled out a bandage, wrapping it around his thumb, tossing the wrapper behind him and handing the box back to Mikey. "Thanks."

"Sure." Mikey watched as Craig resumed his previous position, at the head of his bed, his feet perched on the edge of his adjacent desk, enraptured in his journal, uncaring of anything past his reachable proximity. "Well, nice talking to you as always." With that, he scoffed as he grabbed his jacket, leaving Craig to his own devices.

Craig looked up as the door shut, perplexed of the room's emptiness again. He had managed to completely alienate Mikey and the majority of his fellow patients over the past few weeks, likening it to his first few weeks at Degrassi. Back then, it was always his camera that provided the shield, another layer to protect him from other's judging eyes. Now, he found a kindred spirit with the written word, scribbling everything he ever thought out or wanted to think within its pages. Looking at the clock, he noticed it was nearly eleven. Grabbing his shoes, he stuffed his notebook in his back pocket and left his room without another glance, walking with purpose toward the library.

"I didn't know they had Faulkner here?"

"They don't. My mom brought this for me, as well as a few others on her last visit." Dylan handed him the book. "Have you read this one?"

"No, but an old friend used to mention him a lot." Handing it back, he thought of Ellie again, like he always would. Annoyed, he shook his head before he lingered too long on her freckles that were as clear as they ever were in his memory.

"I think you'd like him. He's American, but he writes like no one else. He's my favorite."

"I don't know if I have a favorite."

"What did you used to read? You know, when you weren't doing other stuff."

"I don't know. I was reading a lot of philosophy books for a while."

"Stoner."

"Shut up." Craig and Dylan chuckled until the library attendant hushed them. Craig rolled his eyes, looking at his notebook again before clearing his throat. "Hey, um. How old are you?"

"Why? You trying to fix me up with someone?"

"Didn't think you would mind?" Craig smirked, but resumed his line of questioning. "Seriously, you can't be older than fifteen."

"I'm twenty."

"What?"

"Yeah, I don't look like it." Dylan, standing no taller than five feet and a quarter, sat up in his chair, leaning over. "I have Turner's Syndrome."

"What's that?"

"Are you seriously only looks?" Dylan scoffed. "It's a genetic disorder. It's basically a shitty disease where I look like a hairless cat, my gonads won't develop more than any kid in puberty, and I might make it to see thirty-five."

"Shit. I'm sorry."

"And so it goes." Dylan adjusted his glasses. "But I'm smarter than most of the dickheads in here, which has to be good for something, right?"

"Yeah, I suppose." Craig was a bit reluctant to ask anything else, still stunned at the age revelation. "You're older than me."

"Yeah?"

"By a few months. I'll be twenty next year."

"Cool."

"Ha, yeah." Craig looked over the spine of Dylan's book. "What's it about?"

"Three siblings living in the south, one is mentally disabled. It's pretty grim. There's some incestuous elements too."

"Sounds hot."

"Only the very best, Mr. Manning." Dylan mimicked tipping a hat before disappearing behind his book again.

Craig watched on for a few more moments before a flicker of black past the corner of his eye. Following it, he noticed Cassie passing through the corridor, vanishing around a corner. Without a farewell, he left Dylan in the stacks of books and pursued Cassie, gaining distance before tapping her lightly on the shoulder. "Hey."

Spinning around, her mouth was shaped in a perfect "O". "Oh, hi."

"Haven't seen you in a couple of days. You okay?"

"Yeah, I was in the infirmary. Caught the flu."

"Yikes, sorry."

"Well, I'm all better now." Cassie pushed up her nose, sniffling. "See, no snot."

"Lovely." Disgusted, Craig turned. Feeling Cassie grip on his arm, he faced her again. "Seriously, good to see you though. Are you going to the meeting tonight?"

"Yeah, after dinner. You?"

"Yeah. I actually have afternoon session with Dr. Taylor in a few." He looked at the clock again, seeing he had five minutes to make it on time. "I should probably get going." He raised his hand, as Cassie gave him a high five. "Save me a seat?"

"Possibly. Grab me an extra jello?'

"Deal." He tapped his nose before racing off, trying his best not to run in the hall without running into an orderly.

As he passed through the identical vanilla walled halls, he reflected on the past month he had spent there. He was more concerned with the next day's events, Joey's visit. He had declined seeing him two weeks prior, due to his heavily fatigued appearance, but now, with another two weeks to gain enough confidence and actual development, he couldn't express his excitement. He had only really connected with Cassie and Dylan during his tenure, and he just began talking to Dr. Taylor more casually in the past few days. The hypnotism loosened his tongue quite a bit, but he was still severely mum about his life before Joey and Angie were in the picture or a certain redhead that starred in most of his dreams. Reaching her door at the end of a particularly long corridor, he knocked twice, seeing her inviting frame over the threshold. "Afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Craig. Please come in." She adjusted her glasses as Craig took his usual post at the end of her leather couch, his left leg shaking. "You doing okay?'

"Yeah, just a bit amped up."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, Joey is coming by tomorrow for a visit."

Dr. Taylor nodded approvingly. "That's wonderful. I'm sure you're thrilled to show him your progress."

"Totally." Craig rubbed his hands together, bobbing his head until he realized there weren't any words exchanged for several beats. "So, how are you?"

"I'm well. Thanks for asking."

"Sure." He leaned back, stretching his arm over the back of the sofa. "How's the missus?"

Dr. Taylor chuckled. "He's fine." She flipped over a new sheet as she crossed her legs. "So, are you ready to begin?"

"Can we just talk a little more before you put me under?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. Maybe something other than what happened a hundred years ago."

"Well, that's why you're here, Craig. It might seem like ancient history to you, but this all new for me. And rather you like it or not, you're condition is still in its infancy, even if you haven't used in-"

"Twenty-seven days."

"Exactly. And we both know that isn't a very long time at all." She took off her glasses, leaning closer to Craig. "It's difficult, I know. But it's important to know the root of your drug usage, why you have turned to it, so you can prevent it from happening again."

"I know why I did it. I was sad and angry and confused and I didn't want to feel that way anymore, so I thought, 'Hey, that sounds like a fun way to spend an afternoon'."

Sighing exasperatedly, Dr. Taylor put her glasses back on. "Craig, it's imperative that you talk this out."

"Why? So there's one more person that knows how royally fucked I am?"

"No, of course not. You know that I don't judge you or ever would." She closed her notepad with a furrowed brow. "I'm only trying to gain your trust. I would never sacrifice that for my own amusement."

"I just don't understand why you can't ask me straight out."

"Because hypnotherapy is the best method for you at the moment, I promise." She reached out to him, patting his knee. "I wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt you."

Craig leaned back further into the couch, easing his tension in his shoulders. "Sorry."

"Think nothing of it." Readjusting her glasses for the umpteenth time, she settled back into her chair, opening up her notepad. "Are you ready?"

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, start counting backwards from one hundred."

Grabbing two bowls of jello, he looked over the cafeteria, looking for the mop of black until he spotted it across the room, pulling out a chair across from her. "Here."

"Thanks." She grabbed it feverishly, humming to herself as she started into it without preamble. "How was your session?"

"The usual repressed memories of yesteryear." He started picking at his food, not particularly interested in getting into the inevitable dull conversation of whatever messed up his adolescence. "How was yours?"

"I cried, apparently."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But I usually cry whenever we do hyno. I practically have my own box of tissues in his office."

"Sorry."

"Whatever. At least they're not throwing Jesus into the mix." She rolled her eyes. "One place I went to was like being at a constant communion. Basically anything you did was a sin and you were praying from the moment your feet touched the floor in your bedroom until it was back that evening. I swear, taking a shit required at least three 'Hail Marys'."

"Jesus." Craig and Cassie both snorted, digging further into their meals. "I guess I should count my blessings."

"Church."

They both shared another laugh when Craig noticed Mikey and one of his shadows approaching them. "Hey man."

"Hey yourself." Mikey nudged his companion, motioning to Craig's hand. "Your boo-boo all better?"

"Yeah, wanna kiss it and make it all better?" He reached out for Mikey, when he swatted it away, joining the table. "Sorry I left the room a wreck."

Mikey snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, what the hell?" He nudged Cassie, who was unimpressed with their latest guest. "He tore up the entire plaace trying to find a Hello Kitty bandage."

"Whatever man." He looked over at Mikey's friend, feeling slightly ashamed for never catching his name, even though they had been introduced more than once. "Anyway, I'll help you clean up before lights out."

"Yeah, sure." Mikey looked past Craig, over at another table. "Fuck me."

Craig turned around, catching a glimpse at an attractive woman at a table a few rows over. Shrugging his shoulders, he finished eating. "You into her?"

"Rather be in her, if you know what I mean." Disgusting Cassie, she left the table in a huff, leaving Mikey to finish her mashed potatoes. "You think you can get her to talk to me?"

"Who, Cassie? Not a chance."

"No, not that little pixie chick. Her." He nodded over to the previous woman, her long blonde hair pulled into a loose French braid. "She's here for heroin. Got here a few days ago." He continued to undress her with her eyes. "She's unbelievable."

Craig made another casual glance over to her, giving her the once over before nodded. "Yeah, she's hot. So what?"

"Easy for you to say. She'd be on her back in ten minutes alone with you." He flanked Craig's carton of milk, scoffing. "I have to trick someone like that to even look at me."

"Well, good luck." Craig grabbed his and Cassie's tray, tossing them into the nearest trash can. As he made his way to the exit, he noticed the blonde woman looking his way, smiling softly. Returning one of his own, he continued on, heading toward his evening group meeting. Racing down the stairs, he stumbled upon something shiny on the floor. Picking it up, he found a clip-on ID keycard, belonging to one of the third floor orderlies, Blake. Before he could think of returning it, he tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping, making his way to the room.

Sliding into an empty chair next to Cassie, he whispered in her ear. "In the mood for an adventure?"

"What?"

"Just curious if you want to get into some trouble tonight, that's all."

Her interest visibly piqued, she faced him. "What kind of trouble?"

Craig looked around before pulling out the ID from his pocket. "This kind."

Cassie grabbed it. "Where'd you get that?!"

Snatching it back and stuffing it in his pocket again, he chucked in a hushed tone. "Don't worry about where I got it. Now, are you interested in having a most excellent adventure, Bill?"

"As long as there's some bodacious babes, Ted." She snorted, nudging him hard in the ribs. "You're gonna get in so much trouble."

"Correction: we are gonna get in so much trouble." He stretched his legs out more. "Don't act like you're not excited."

"What's the game plan? We can't exactly get away from our rooms. They lock us in."

"Well, that's what the key card is for. When they do their 2 am check, I can make sure the door doesn't lock all the way."

"How?"

"I'll figure it out. Just be ready for me to get you. I'll be able to open your door with this." He patted it again, like a precious item it was.

"But how will we know if they checked?"

"We'll have a signal. I'll come to your door and if they haven't come yet, you knock once back. If they do, you knock twice. And then I'll bust you out."

"But what if we get caught?"

"Stop being such a naysayer before I ask someone else to join me."

"Fine." Cassie straightened up in her chair as she noticed someone sitting closer to them. "It's on."

"Sweet." He nudged her, nodding approvingly. "It'll be great."

"Whatever." Crossing her arms, they noticed the rest of the group had assembled. "Now I just have to wait."

"There's always a catch."

"I think I'm in love."

Craig looked up from his notebook, watching as Mikey plopped on his own bed. "What are you on about?"

"Rochelle." Mikey smirked slightly, saying again, with more conviction. "Ro-chelle. I think it's French."

"Oui."

"She's lovely."

"Yeah, I guess."

"What would you know, you only hang around that weird girl with those crazy eyes."

"I thought you said she was hot?"

"Well, that was before… Rochelle."

"Keep it in your pants, man. This isn't high school. We're in rehab. She's a heroin addict, with some serious issues."

"Pretty sure that's exactly how high school was. Some beautiful, damaged girl with skeletons in her closet. Sounds like half of my graduation class."

"Touché." Craig continued to scribble in his notebook, shaking his head. "Are you going ask her out to the prom?"

"Blow me." Mikey grabbed his towel, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Craig chuckled to himself, thinking about the pretty blond girl and Cassie, whom he thought were both very pretty, but like a heavy lead ball slamming into his stomach, he was reminded of another very pretty, very lovely girl. "Fuck."

Like clockwork, the door opened, shining light into the room. Craig spent the better part of the evening devising a way to get out of the room after the first overnight check, knowing it was near impossible to exit his room in the middle of the night. Realizing he had to stop from the door from locking, he finally figured out how. He found a small bit of plastic from an old bookmark that he filed down, not having any scissors to cut it in half. He had planned it get out of bed right when the orderly would come, head to the bathroom, and while he was checking on Mikey, he would slip the piece of plastic on the door latch, so it would completely lock, but still close. Proud of his plan, he slept for a few hours until the moment arrived, jumping out of bed.

"Get back to bed!"

"I have to pee."

The orderly scoffed. "Fine, whatever." He watched as Craig went past him before turning to look over at Mikey's side of the room, passing a small wall, just enough room for him to be in his blind spot, taking full advantage. Without delay, Craig affixed the small piece in the door, sliding it the spot, with enough time to make sure it wouldn't fall out. Poking it for its firmness, he raced into the bathroom, shutting himself in.

After another beat, the door closed. He waited another fifteen minutes before trying to open the door. Once it opened without any issue, he waited about ten minutes before he ventured down the hall, racing through the corridors, avoiding all the surveillance cameras. Staying in the shadows wherever he could, making his best effort to stay away from any bright lights, he finally made it over to Cassie's building, knocking on her door.

After hearing her two knocks, he promptly opened her door with the keycard, seeing her smiling face. "I can't believe-"

Putting his finger over her mouth, he grabbed her hand, pulling her out and shutting the door as quietly as they could. Still holding her hand, he pulled her down the hall, turning into an office. Finally alone, they laughed quietly.

"I can't believe you got me out."

"I can't believe I got out."

"How'd you do it?"

"I gotta keep that to myself; can't have everybody breaking out. It'll be anarchy." He caught his breath before grabbing Cassie's hand again. "You hungry?"

"Shit, it's dripping." Cassie licked her hand as she passed the carton of chocolate ice cream over to Craig, the side of it leaking slightly.

"No problem." He sucked at the corner of it, causing Cassie to laugh again. "What?"

"Nothing, just… Thanks."

"For what?"

"For this. I mean, this is the best time I've had in years."

"Don't get out much?"

"Not really, no." Cassie turned sullen suddenly, looking over the edge of the building, seeing the darkened buildings in front of her. They were sitting on the roof of one of the administration buildings, eating stolen ice cream in May. Despite the occasion chill, it was by far the most pleasant weather for the stargazing. "It's hard to go out without falling off the bandwagon."

"Yeah."

"This is my third time. Not being here, but being put into something like this. I think it might be my last."

"That's a good thing, right?"

"Well, I mean, my parents aren't going to pay for me to be in a place again. They've pretty much told me they're fed up with me and my shit."

"Well, they have government facilities."

"They're all shit, trust me." She snatched the carton of ice cream, taking another spoonful, closing her eyes. Once she finished, she looked up at Craig. "You're so green."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you seem so new to all of this. I know you're here for coke, but how long were you on it before you got caught?"

"Six months."

"Child's play."

"Maybe for you, but I'm not new to all of this."

"Yeah?"

"I'm bipolar." Craig looked over at her for a reaction.

"So am I."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Cassie curled her legs up, her knees under her chin. "I was diagnosed when I was fifteen."

"Sixteen."

"It sucks."

"Yup." Craig took another spoonful of ice cream, suddenly not enjoying it as much. "Did you ever go off your meds?"

"All the time. It's what put me in rehab in the first place." She shrugged, looking past the brick buildings. "My mother couldn't cope with having her 'little princess' not be the Wellesley girl like she was. I had a panic attack when I was taking entrance exams and I went off my meds for a few weeks. The minute she found out, she threw me in a place in British Columbia that makes this place look like Caesar's Palace."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Cassie finished off the last of the ice cream, tossing it aside. "It wasn't until college that I started with the heroin."

"How?"

"My boyfriend." She rolled her eyes. "Present tense."

"You're still with him."

"We never actually broke up. I mean, I haven't been exactly faithful to him, but he still comes and sees me whenever he can. He was here last week when I was sick."

"He got you hooked?"

"You make it sound like he turned me out or something." She crossed her arms, standing up and leaning against a chimney. "It started off as a goof, you know. I mean, I was at York. My dad's an alum and pulled some strings. Anyway, Todd gave me some once after I had a rough night. It just started as something to put me to sleep since the pills keep me up. After a while, I couldn't go to sleep without a hit or leave the house, or get out of bed. Or eat. Within a semester, I had sold off most of my belongings and some of my roommate's stuff to keep it up. That was two years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem like a good person."

"Maybe. I guess I'm just prone to be unhappy to some degree." She nudged him. "I guess you can understand that."

"Yeah."

"What about you?"

"What?"

"What's your story? And don't tell me that shitty story about you doing coke in some dressing room. That sounded something straight out of a Neil Young bio."

Craig nudged her back, leaning close to the chimney. "Well, let's see. I went off my meds three years ago, proposed to my then-girlfriend before we headed to her gay dad's wedding, but not before I took her v-card. Oh yeah, also beat my stepdad, who's coming here tomorrow, senseless. Hmm, dropped out of high school to pursue a music career, started smoking pot before dropping some acid and then started doing coke. I really liked coke, since I went from doing it once or twice before a show to doing it nearly every few hours. Let's see, then I came back to my hometown, kissed my best friend that I've loved since I can remember, professing said love while trying to get my coke back from her and overdosed backstage before a concert, leaving home in disgrace." He folded his arms, looking over at Cassie. "Yeah, think that pretty much covers it."

"Jeez, you sound like a teen soap."

"Pretty much." He shook his head, before thinking about how much he related to Cassie's story. "We're kinda fucked, aren't we?"

"Basically." She walked closer to him, given him a hug. They held each other, enjoying the closeness before she looked up at him. "We should probably break up this ice cream social."

"Yeah, don't need to get into too much trouble." They held hands as they swiftly climbed down the stairs, entering Cassie's floor. "Wanna do this again some time?"

"Totally." She leaned in, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling him toward her room. With one quick swipe of the card, she was in her room, closing the door quietly behind her.

As Craig made his way to his room, he thought about Cassie's story as a steady pang gathered in the pit of his stomach. By the time he arrived, he made a beeline to his desk, not caring if he awakened Mikey. While he wanted be alert and perky for his visit with Joey in a few hours, he knew if he didn't get this out now, he never would.

Grabbing a pen, he took a deep breath before scribbling the first two words: Dear Manny…

More to come…