Jake let out a sharp gasp and dropped the bottle of minty liquid. It's remains spilled across the floor while he clutched his stomach. He'd fought so hard against the compulsion just hours before. And there he stood, having failed himself and his best friend once again. On the plus side, his tumultuous thoughts seemed to level out. "Can't keep doing this..." he gripped the edge of the sink, fearing for a moment that he was going to be sick. Clumsily, he pushed himself backwards and out the door.

Chance was asleep. He wasn't a light sleeper, but he had an almost sixth sense as to when something wasn't right. Because of that, Jake knew he had to be cautious, something that wasn't easy when every inch of his body was trembling. In spite of the alcohol in the mouthwash, his heart was still racing and he was still sweating when he reached a tentative paw out for his friend's keys. Jake managed to remove his keys from the d-ring without incident. Then, like a shadow, he slipped out the door.

Chance rolled over and dropped one of his massive paws down on the squawking alarm clock. His mind drifted back to Jake's breakdown in the hangar the night before and he shot out of bed. The tabby decided he'd check on his friend just as soon as he went to the bathroom.

In the dark, he was hit with the heavy smell of spearmint and he felt something wet beneath his feet. Chance hit the switch and did a double take. "What the hell?" He lifted up one of his feet and frowned. Then his eyes widened. "Jake..." Slipping, he darted out of the bathroom and across the hall, shouldering open the door. The room was empty. "Shit." Chance swore, tangling his paws into his messy blond hair. Unsure of what to do, he hovered in the doorway for several long moments before going to the kitchen. His heart dropped into his stomach when he saw the note stuck to the fridge. It was written in messy black ink on a sheet of printer paper.

Chance,

I'm sorry. I tried, but I can't do this. And it's not fair to expect you to keep picking me back up every time I screw things up. I know I'm leaving you with this Claire mess and, again, I'm sorry. I fucked things up last night. And for the first time in I don't know how long, I had a really clear view of how screwed up I am, and I'm doing what I should have done a long time ago. I'm checking myself into a clinic. I really can't think of anything else to say here. There are just so many things going through my head right now and I can't make sense of them. I'll call you as soon as I figure this mess out.

Thanks for everything. You have no idea how much I regret putting you through this. You deserve better.

-Jake-

Chance dropped into a chair, feeling truly deflated. And at the same time, hopeful. He knew with every once of him that this was the right thing to do, but he couldn't help feeling sad knowing his best friend, his brother, was gone.

Jake was trembling by the time he'd checked himself in and got settled in a room. It had subsided, but it was back now. He'd still been lucid when he'd signed the paperwork. So when the withdrawals hit again, he was completely at their mercy. "This was a fucking stupid idea," he cursed.

"No," someone said near him. "This is the most responsible thing you could do."

Jake breathed deeply, digging his paws into his hair. "No," he moaned. "I want to leave."

"You can't leave. You signed on the line. You're here until you get through this."

Chance had pulled the transmission off and was halfway through removing the engine from a van when it hit him that Claire hadn't shown up. He struggled between calling her and not caring. "If Jake was here, he'd call her." He reminded himself and picked up the phone.

"What?" A voice snipped in his ear.

"Claire?" Chance bit back.

"Hang on." The she-kat said rudely. "CLAIRE!" He heard pounding. "What are you doing? Phone's for you." There was a shuffling sound. "Can I take a message? She's not getting up."

"Yeah. Tell her she's fired." Chance hissed and hung up the phone. Fury burned in his veins. Jake had gone out of his way to try and help that she-kat and she couldn't be bothered to come in. He slammed down his fist. If, after five years, Jake could swallow his pride and admit that he had a problem and do something about it, then he was sure he could convince that kitten to do the same thing. Chance closed up shop and went downstairs.

Claire reached an arm towards the table beside her bed. Lethargically, she pulled the drawer open and blindly dug around. "Wake and bake," she giggled to herself as her paw grasped a small ceramic box. A gloved paw suddenly clamped down over her mouth and a voice hissed in her ear.

"Get dressed. You're coming with me."

T-Bone wasn't one to use violence to coerce kats into following his lead, but in this instance, he felt there was no choice. He removed his paw, keeping his glovatrix aimed at her head as he moved around her to lock the door.

"My mother wasn't enough? You have to come back and kill me too?" Claire spat.

"Just shut your trap and put on some clothes. I don't have time for this." T-Bone snarled, almost enjoying the way she trembled as she scrambled out of bed and frantically pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Without giving her another moment to protest, T-Bone scooped her up and took her out the window. He quickly restrained her to the cyclotron so that she wouldn't jump off and then he got on. She fought against the restraints the whole way, twisting and kicking, trying to free herself, stilling finally when they reached their destination.

"Why did you bring me here?" Claire sucked in a breath as if she'd been punched in the gut.

"Do you know how difficult it is to track down the relatives of kats you don't know?" T-Bone's eyes drifted across the cemetery. He couldn't help but to think of how strange it was that this was where Jake's parents were buried as well. Just a few rows down from Claire's mother. He unfastened the restraints and pulled her in front of her mother's grave. The lone Swat Kat felt a pang of guilt when he saw the hurt on her face. He'd felt bad about it, but never guilty. He hung his head and released his hold on her.

"We never meant for that to happen. And I know five years is a long time to wait for an apology. Razor tried to figure out a way but he never could and the guilt of what happened consumed him. Despite what we do, he's not a violent kat. But now I see you and what you're doing to yourself and I know that, if he were here, he'd do whatever he could to make this right." T-Bone pointed at her then at the grass covered mound. "And what about her? Do you think this is what she wanted for you?"

"What do you know about what she wanted?" Claire snapped. "You don't know one thing about her! And you only know me superficially, and how you know that much is beyond me!"

"I know that you're an addict and that no mother would ever want that for their kitten."

"Yeah well no one wants to hear that their mom's head got cut off!" Claire shouted. "Do you have any idea what that's like? To get pulled out of class so someone in a uniform can tell you they're sorry?" Tears pooled in her bloodshot brown eyes.

"Actually," T-Bone looked down at the ground. "I do know what that's like. And there are far better ways to deal with it than this." He sighed and pointed at her with an open paw. "I mean look at you! You're a bright kit! You should be in school right now. Instead, you're living with a stripper and a dealer and they're probably halfway responsible for how you got so screwed up."

"I don't have anywhere else to go!" Claire yelled. "And they were there when no one else was. They're my friends. My family."

"You don't get it, do you?" T-Bone gripped her shoulders. "You pretty much got handed a way out and you gave it a shot and then you gave up. I bet that's how it's been for the past five years, huh? You try to make an effort to change things, to move on, but you give up or you make mistakes that you know will screw things up for you."

Claire looked down at the ground. "I don't know who you are or how you know what you know but..." She trailed off as she dropped to her knees, putting her paws flat on the soft dying grass. "You're right." She dug her claws into the soil. "What am I supposed to do?"

T-Bone knelt beside her. "Stop giving up on yourself. Let someone in. Put your trust in strangers?"

"You want me to trust you? You killed my mother!"

"And here I am." T-Bone replied. "I should have been here sooner. Maybe if I had, Razor would've been able to be here too."

"Is he dead?" Claire asked, her voice nearly void of emotion.

"Sort of." T-Bone sighed. "He quit. He ran away. Kind of like you. He fell apart over an accident involving a complete stranger. I mean, who does that? Who loses it over hurting someone they don't even know? Isn't that a testament to how much we didn't mean for this to happen?"

"Why aren't you upset?" Claire narrowed her eyes. "If it was both your faults, why are you here and he isn't?"

"We're a team. We were a team. That means if something happens we're both at fault. But I'm a pilot, not a gunner. He fired the weapon. He was trying to take out Dr. Viper's stupid vines and those buzzsaw missiles always worked best. Nobody had ever been injured before. And that building was supposed to be empty, so when it broke through a window, neither of us thought anything of it." He sighed as he recounted the events. "Dr. Viper dragged the deputy mayor into the building to lure us in. Razor went in on his own. I didn't want him to but there were so many mutant insects flying around outside, I didn't have a choice. He decided to go in where his missile had broken the window so that I wouldn't have to try to get him on the roof. When he saw her lying there, he froze up." T-Bone paced. "Razor and I have a deal. Radio contact at all times. When he never responded, never told me he'd found Miss Briggs or any sign of her, I got worried. I went in after him. He was just sitting there, on his knees, cradling her body in his arms." T-Bone shook his head. "I had to leave him there. She was gone. There was nothing I could do and Callie was still missing. I had to go after her. And then I came back for him. It's like he was catatonic or something. I had to pry her away from him. I couldn't get anything out of him. Then it hit the papers and he snapped. He quit. He didn't want any more blood on his paws."

Claire was torn between not wanting to hear it and feeling almost guilty for the hatred she'd harbored. "I... I didn't know..."

"There was no reason for you to know. Nobody knows what we go through. This whole city just sees what they want to see. Some are on our side. Others aren't. Normally, we can take the criticism in stride. But, as I said before, Razor is not violent. And he takes everything to heart."

Claire squeezed her eyes shut. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to be angry at the Swat Kats for her mother's death.

"Why was she in that building anyway?" T-Bone asked. It was a question that had plagued him since that night.

Claire puffed out a breath. "She was such a workaholic. I don't know her reason, but, if I had to guess, she was more worried about deadlines than the danger she was in." She looked down at the dirt in her paws. "Put my trust in strangers, huh? How do I know if I take that risk, that I won't get burned?"

"You don't." T-Bone shrugged. "But I have it on good authority that, if you play your cards right, that last job you had, the one you couldn't be bothered to go in for, they might be a little more forgiving than you think."

He walked back towards the cyclotron. "You can get home from here, can't you?"

She nodded.

"Take some time and think about what I said. I don't just go around making social calls trying to convince junkies to turn their lives around. And I wouldn't waste my time if I didn't think you could do it." T-Bone started the motorcycle. He was gone before she could respond.

It had been a week and a half, and Chance hadn't heard anything from Jake or Claire. He was worried, beyond worried even, about his friend. On top of that, he couldn't help this nagging feeling that he'd failed to get through to that kit. The phone in the office started ringing. The grease covered tabby sighed. It was so hard to focus on work. "MKC Salvage and repair," he droned.

"Chance?" An almost timid voice shook on the line.

"Jake?!" Chance felt his heart leap into his throat. "Christ, buddy. I've been worried sick! Are you alright?"

"I... I'm fine Chance... I just..." The almost unfamiliar voice shook. "There's so much I want to say... can you meet me somewhere?"

"Sure? Where? Anywhere you want." Chance twitched an ear, hearing a car pull into the yard.

"The park downtown... you know where they made that waterfall and stuff..."

"When?" He looked up, seeing Claire's rusted car jerk to a stop.

"Um..." Jake hesitated. "An hour?"

"Yeah, sure. You want me to bring anything? I can pick up some lunch and..."

"You don't have to do all that... I just want to talk..."

"Okay. I'll be there." Chance had to swallow back a lump forming in his throat. He'd never been more worried about anybody in his life. Jake was more than a friend, he was a brother. It was like part of him was gone.

"Thanks." Jake sounded relieved. "I... I have to go."

When Chance hung up and lifted his head, Claire was hovering in the doorway. She looked tired, exhausted even. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I know I didn't exactly make a great first impression." Claire managed to keep her attitude in spite of how wiped out she looked. "And I'm sorry I'm such a slacker."

"Yeah well.. at least you come by it honestly." Chance crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his blue eyes at her. "You look like shit."

"Yeah well, it's been a rough week." She broke eye contact. "Here's the thing..." Claire's jaw twitched. "I know I screwed up and asking for my job back is one thing. Asking for a place to stay is totally different. But," she sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't really have anywhere else to go."

Chance felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "Okay." He sighed. "It just so happens that I have something I need to do and I could use someone to keep an eye on the shop while I'm gone." He rapped his knuckles on the office desk. "You hungry? I was going to make some lunch before I left?"

Claire smiled. "Famished," she replied.

Jake chewed nervously on one of his claws as he paced along the banks of the kat-made river in front of the kat-made waterfall. He looked at his watch for the twentieth time in thirty seconds. "Chill out," he told himself. "You told him an hour. He's still got ten minutes." Just as his teeth reached the quick, he felt a paw on his shoulder. Jake let out an embarrassing screech and jumped. "Chance!"

Chance pulled Jake into a tight hug. "Jesus, look at you." He said as he released his crushing hold on his friend. "You look... kind of better."

Jake laughed nervously. "Thanks."

"Oh, hey I brought some sandwiches." Chance held up a bag. "You look like you could use some food."

Jake motioned for Chance to follow him to a bench facing the waterfall. The slender tom sat down slowly, pulling his legs up and folding them underneath him in a way that made him look like he was made out of rubber. Chance sat next to him.

"So..." Jake started and then paused, unsure of where to start. "What have I missed?"

Chance let out a long breath. "Me firing Claire and then reaming her out." He smirked. "It was kind of fun actually. I got suited up and kat-napped her. I recorded the conversation I had with her if you want to hear it."

Jake shook his head. "I'm sorry I left you with that."

"Actually, I'm kind of glad you did." Chance shrugged. "Right after you called, she showed up. It was really weird, actually. Like some sort of cosmic event."

Jake rolled his eyes. "What have you been doing while I've been gone? Watching movies?"

"Nope." Chance put his paws on his knees. "She needs a place to stay. I think I'm going to let her."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Jake shot him an uneasy look.

"Not at all, but she needs someone she can trust."

Jake half smirked. "Well, she can definitely trust you."

"So are you going to tell me what's been going on?" Chance rested his arm on the back of the bench and turned himself sideways to look at Jake.

"Well... I haven't had anything to drink since I left." He flushed a little at the thought. "Of course this is the first time I've been outside in that period of time..."

"I'm proud of you, Jake." Chance said sincerely. "This takes a lot of guts and I don't know if I would've been able to do it."

Jake's ears flattened at the compliment. He didn't feel very brave. "Somehow, I doubt that." He frowned. "I can't even begin to tell you what the past week has been like."

"Week and a half." Chance corrected. "And that one day, watching you suffer like that... I mean, I can still see it."

Jake clenched his paws into fists to disguise the trembling. "Yeah..." he cut his eyes away from Chance. "That was nothing... and I'm really glad you didn't see how bad it got."

"I have an idea." Chance hated how weak Jake looked. "I looked into what you were doing, made a few phone calls... you know... researched it. And believe me when I say that I didn't hear anything that made me feel better about not knowing where you were or how to contact you."

Jake looked a little surprised. "I really didn't think you'd be that concerned."

"Yeah well, I was... and I am. So now what? Are you coming home?"

Jake halfway smiled. "It's not that simple."

"Of course not." Chance frowned. "Can I come see you? Or call you? Email? Smoke signals? Something so I'm not losing my mind?"
Jake dug his paw into one of his pockets and pulled out a folded up sheet of paper. "Yes to the visiting, calling and emails. No to the smoke signals."

"Damn," Chance feigned disappointment. "So, what is this like a room phone or something?"

"Not quite." Jake made a face. "And there's sort of a time limit."

"Okay, time limit on the phone. But you can leave whenever you want as long as you come back?"

"Kind of." He bit his lip.

"Okay, Jake. Enough with the cryptic answers. Give me some intel here." Chance gave Jake a withering look.

Jake rolled up the sleeve of his gray hooded sweatshirt to reveal a bracelet around his wrist. It was made of cheap plastic but it had a bar-code on it. Printed before it were the words 'patient ID' and a few seemingly random numbers. "I have to check in and out. There's actually a curfew."

"How do they know you're not going to hit up the nearest bar?" Chance gave Jake a disbelieving look.

"They don't. But they thought of that ahead of time." Jake briefly looked at the ground. "Along with the Valium they started giving me when insomnia hit and I started hallucinating, they just recently started giving me something else... when I said I wanted to see you... I can't remember what it's called but I've been informed that I don't really want to drink while I'm on it. And I saw what happens when you do." He visibly shuddered.

"So they aren't relying on you to be honest, huh?" Chance tried to joke.

And Jake did chuckle. "To be truthful, if it wasn't for the fact that I knew I'd be in a world of hurt, that's probably what I would be doing right now." He had the decency to look embarrassed.

And Chance looked suitably hurt at the notion. "Well... I guess I knew this wouldn't be that easy."

"Yeah..." Jake bit his lip. "I just..." He hung his head. "Chance I...." The rusty furred tom shook his head. "I guess what I really wanted to say was that I'm sorry... for everything. For abandoning you... for every stupid thing I've done in the past five years."

"Jake, you don't have to..."
"I'm not done," Jake held up a paw. "I know I said some of this in that note I left but I really wanted to say it to your face and I couldn't. And right now, I'm not steady. And my thoughts are shooting in a million different directions at once. And I don't know how I'm going to do this without the one kat I can trust not to repeat what I say and the one kat to whom I can say whatever is on my mind without being judged. And I don't want you to think that I'm not grateful because I am... and there's this part of me that keeps shouting that I've fucked things up so bad that I'm on my own here and that scares the shit out of me." He took a deep breath when he'd finished.

"Jake, I've come close so many times to being fed up. But we're brothers. We might have had two completely different families and come from completely different backgrounds, but 'friendship' doesn't even cover it. And if I walked out on you and left you to do this on your own, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I've never lied to you and I'm not going to start now. You did fuck things up. And, in typical 'Jake fashion' you didn't half ass it either. You just don't normally put that sort of effort into making mistakes."

"You're not doing a great job of making me feel better, Chance." Jake's shoulders slumped.

"I'm not trying to." Chance replied. "You wanted to talk. I let you talk. And I listened. And now that you've finally admitted that you have a problem and you're getting help for it, and now that I know you're listening, I'm telling you exactly how I feel. I know this is hard. This is probably the hardest thing you've ever done. And I can tell you feel like shit. You look like shit. You look like you haven't eaten in months. But your eyes are clearer than they've been in a long time. I have no doubt in my mind that you can do this. In fact, I expect you to do it. And if I have to be here every day to make sure you do, then I will."

Jake narrowed his eyes in an attempt to force the stinging sensation back down. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Yeah well, you're welcome." Chance tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "So are you up for some lunch or what?"

"Sure," Jake looked up. It was evident that he wasn't really hungry. But he wasn't anxious to leave his friend yet.

When Chance returned to the salvage yard, he found Claire asleep on the ratty couch in the waiting area. She was sprawled on her stomach with one of her arms hanging off, her paw grazing the floor. Chance chuckled softly as he thought about how many times he and Jake have caught naps on that couch during times of slow business. He grabbed a piece of paper off the desk, balled it up and threw it at her.

Claire made a soft startled noise as her eyes popped open.

"Time to wake up, kit." Chance smirked.

"Not a kit," she replied sullenly, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with the back of one of her paws.

"Okay," he chuckled. "You're not doing anything to sway my opinion. Come on, we need to figure out a game plan for you."

"A game plan?"

"Yeah. You know, a plan of action." Chance sat next to her on the couch. "You might notice I'm sans an employee."

"Yeah. I did notice. What happened to Jake?"

"He's getting help." He studied her. "That's not something you need to think about doing, is it?"

Claire blushed. "I'm not a junkie."

"Famous last words."
"I'm really not. I just..."

"Like the way it feels?" He looked disbelieving.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Claire shot back. "I can get by just fine without it. I haven't touched anything in a week. Because I don't want to. Not because I can't afford it. I know how to get it without money."

"And I don't want to know how you manage that." Chance cocked his head to the side. "Tell me something, Claire. Is this what you want to do with your life?"
"Fix cars?"

"No. Bounce from job to job and live from paycheck to paycheck."

"Don't you live from paycheck to paycheck?"

"Yes. But the circumstances are different. Jake and I did have a career. We're here paying for someone else's mistake. But you? Why are you here?"

"Because your drunk friend was listening to my problems at a bar." Claire replied.

"Seriously."

She sighed. "I really don't know why I'm here. I stopped caring why I end up where I end up a long time ago."

"Well, no offense to you, but I don't really want someone that can hot wire a car in her sleep really fixing other kats' cars. It worries me." Chance confessed.

"So I guess that means I should hit the road, huh?"

"I didn't say I wanted you to leave. I just said I didn't want you working on cars."

"Then what am I supposed to do? You don't exactly need a secretary. This place doesn't get that much business."

"Did you finish high school, Claire?"

"Of course I finished high school." She scoffed. "I only had one year left when my mom was killed."

"Good." Chance said. "Then fill out the financial aid stuff. Go to school. You can stay here as long as you need as long as you're doing that."

"Same rules apply? Don't ask, don't tell?"
Chance winced. "It's not like that."

"It seemed like a good way to put it." Claire smirked.

"Come on," he shook his head at her. "Let's get your stuff and figure out where you're sleeping." Chance followed her to the car, expecting it to be packed full of things. When she simply pulled a backpack out of the passenger seat and walked away, he tilted his head questioningly.

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"Well that makes this easier, I guess." Chance led her inside. "Home, sweet home. I think what I'll do is move Jake's stuff into my room. There was a bed here when we moved in but we put it in storage since we had our own furniture. I'll pull it out and you can have that. How's that sound?"

"You sure Jake won't mind having to share a room when he comes back?"

"I talked to him today. He knows you're going to be staying here. And I think I'll be more comfortable knowing I can keep an eye on him, anyway."

"You really care about him, huh?"
Chance smiled sadly. "Jake and I have had each others backs through a lot of shit. He's like my screwed up little brother. If I didn't look out for him, nobody would. Clearly not himself."