6 Weeks

Chapter 1

One year, it’s been one year since Justin woke up to find his whole world had changed. One year since he could remember really being happy and looking forward to a new day. One year since his day didn’t start out with a couple of vicodin and a chaser of vodka or Jim Beam. His life as Justin commonly referred to as BB, “Before Bashing” was nothing like his existence today. A homophobic jock had changed everything and Justin had given up long ago any thoughts of getting it back.

One year ago, almost to the day, Justin had been naïve enough to believe that taking his boyfriend, Jeff to his senior prom was a good idea. They had been dating for a couple of months and although it was far from perfect, Jeff had been the first man he had ever trusted with his feelings. It wasn’t love but it felt good. Prom night had been magical and Justin began to believe it could turn into something more. Of course that didn’t happen. Prom night ended with a baseball bat to the head, 2 weeks in a coma, months of rehab, and Jeff leaving town.

At first Justin had tried to regain his life and focus on his art, but the pain was difficult to work through. His doctor had prescribed Vicodin, which at first was like a miracle drug. It eased the pain enough to uncurl his fingers and allow at least short spans of undisturbed sketching. But it never seemed to last as long as he wanted so he began to take more. It wasn’t long before he was forging his own prescriptions and popping them like candy.

The Vicodin wasn’t enough to cope with the outside world though. The slightest touch of another person caused Justin to cower and the last thing he wanted was to be weak anymore. That’s when Justin discovered liquid courage in the form of vodka, tequila, Jim Beam, and rum. With a little assistance from his new friends, Justin could walk down Liberty Ave without a care in the world. He was addicted to the numbing qualities of his new regiment and nothing else seemed to matter. Never one for casual sex, Justin began tricking at his highest moments. He could hardly stand-up right so sexual encounters mostly consisted of blowjobs in the backroom. Confronted with a line up, Justin would never be able to point out a single man who had serviced him over the past year. It was amazing he even made it home at the end of the night.

The combination of the drugs, alcohol, and after effects of the bashing had left Justin a bitter emotionally unstable young man who was out of control. Jennifer could only watch on the sidelines as her son fell deeper and deeper into depression. She had tried to intervene on several occasions but a single word would only send him into another rage. The rages had become so frequent that Jennifer had begun to avoid all contact with Justin. As much as she wanted to send him to a psychiatrist, she also feared how Justin would react. He had become that unpredictable.

Jennifer had been downstairs making dinner when she heard the thud from upstairs. She ignored the sound, since it had become such a frequent occurrence in the last year. As she wiped her hands on a dishcloth, a loud high-pitched scream echoed throughout the house.

“Oh my God, Molly!” Jennifer gasped and ran up the stairs at full speed. The moment she whipped the door open everything seemed to occur in slow motion. Molly was lying on the floor, one arm held close to her chest and the other wedged in-between the broken legs of Justin’s easel, cuts and scratches covering them both. Her tear-filled eyes were focused on the opposite side of the room, where Justin was hunched over himself on the floor. He was rocking back and forth, alternating between shouts of rage and mumbles of confusion.

“No, no, no, just stay away. Everyone just stay the fuck away! No Molly, not Molly. Stop trying to hold me, please stop. I can’t take it. I can’t.”

Jennifer made a move toward Molly but she bravely shook her head and motioned in Justin’s direction. Jennifer noticed his fingers were curled around a half empty bottle of vodka. She cautiously approached him, taking note of the empty pill bottles and glass littered on the floor. There were cuts on Justin’s hands from the broken glass that he was oblivious to. As he pushed his hair back from his forehead, red smudges were left on his face. Her little boy wasn’t even recognizable.

“Justin, what have you done?” Jennifer whispered. As if waking from a nightmare, Justin’s head jerked up in his mom’s direction.

“What?” he asked confused. Jennifer continued to look him in the eyes as she spoke.

“What have you done? Look at yourself. Look at your sister. Where the hell did all of these pill bottles come from? Your prescription expired ages ago. I don’t even know you anymore and this has got to stop. Do you hear me? It’s bad enough what you’re doing to yourself but how could you bring Molly into this? Answer me.”

Justin’s eyes were wild as they flitted across the room, taking in the destruction and finally the face of his sister. Her sad eyes watched him with concern but no malice. Pain radiated from her body, both physical and emotional. She was so innocent and had been blindsided by his rage when she entered the room to borrow a CD. The way she was holding her arm, it was most likely broken. The volleyball game she had been excited to participate in, now out of the question. Justin turned his gaze back to his mother who suddenly looked so old and tired.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. I just need to take a pill and it’ll be OK.”

Justin nodded his head and reached for one of the bottles on the floor. Just as his fingers came in contact with the plastic, it was kicked out of reach.

“No more Justin. That’s it. No more pills, no more booze, no more coming home smelling like a prostitute. I’ve been more than patient for the last year but you crossed a line today and I can’t let that happen again. So you’ve got a decision to make and you better come up with the right answer. Either you get your act together and go to rehab or I’m calling the police.”

“What?” Justin asked startled, trying to stand up without wobbling.

“I’ll charge you with aggravated assault. I can’t have you living under this roof anymore if there is a chance you could hurt Molly again. It’s for your own good, as well as hers. Either way you won’t be getting your hands on any more pills or alcohol. You decide if you’d rather detox in a cushy bed with windows or a jail cell. I’ll give you a little time to consider your options. Right now I have to take your sister to the hospital. Don’t bother running away because I will not hesitate to issue a warrant out for your arrest. You got me?”

Justin nodded his head solemnly and watched as his mother helped Molly to her feet. Together they exited the room, leaving Justin to contemplate how he had gotten to this point where his own mother was ready to give up on him. Just the word rehab made him sick to his stomach but a slight blond twink in jail was not an alternative he found appealing.


Brian took a deep breath before entering the large room. It was his first time attending the group session even though he had been at the Pleasant Valley Rehabilitation Center for almost a week. Group therapy was definitely not his thing, but his counselor warned him that it was a necessary part of his recovery and he was willing to do almost anything to get back to his old life. It had taken days of vomiting, shaking, and feeling like absolute shit before he realized how serious his problems were. While he had lain in bed wishing he would die, he thought about his life and how just about everyone had turned his or her back on him. He finally admitted that he could probably use a change. In fact, if he stopped spending so much money of drugs, he could spend more of his money of his clothes, possibly even buying the new Armani Collection he had his eye on. He was brought out of his thoughts when the counselor called his name.

“Brian, it’s good to see you here. Come in and join us. We’re just about to get started,” Blake said, surprised to see the man standing in the doorway. He must have listened to the lecture he had given him the day before.

Brian quietly sank down in the chair closest to the door and looked around at the others. He couldn’t believe he was sitting in a room full of drug addicts and losers, getting ready to listen to them pour out their hearts.

“Okay, let’s begin. I see a couple of new faces here. As most of you know, my name is Blake and I’m a drug abuse counselor here. I would like to go around the room and have everyone tell us something about themselves. How about we start with you Roy? Is there anything you’d like to share with the others?”

“Well, my name is Roy and I’m addicted to Heroin. This is my second time in Rehab. The first time didn’t seem to work for me. I was only out about three days before I was back to sticking needles into my arms and it was worse than before. I was unstoppable. I took out a second mortgage on my house, lost my job; I even cashed in on my life insurance policy. My wife finally found out what I was up to and told me that if I didn’t get the help I needed, she was leaving me. I checked myself back in, figuring that she would see that I was helping myself and agree to stay. Then something happened. I started to see exactly what it was that everybody else was seeing. I took a good long look at myself and realized that I didn’t even recognize the man I’d become. Right now, my poor wife is working two jobs just to try to save our house. She shouldn’t have to do that. I promised her I would always take care of her and I let her down. It hasn’t been easy, but this time I’m going to do what ever it takes to get better. I have to; not for my wife or my marriage, but for me.” Roy wiped away a stray tear as he finished his little speech.

“Roy, you’ve made remarkable progress since you got here; more than last time. I have no doubt that you have the strength to move past your addiction and become whomever it is you want to be. Be proud of all the steps you have made so far and remember that you’re not alone. We’ve all been there before and we understand,” Blake replied, happy to see all the changes Roy made. He moved on to the next person in the circle. “Kevin, how about you?”

Brian sat there listening to all the others sharing their stories and tried to ignore the similarities to his own life. He didn’t want to be like them. He didn’t want to be that weak person who had no control over his own life. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone calling his name.

“Brian? Are you with us?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“It’s your turn. Would you like to share something?”

Brian looked around the room at the others staring at him and fought the urge to get up and leave.

“My name’s Brian…” he paused not sure of what to say next.

“Go on,” Blake encouraged.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Brian snapped.

“Whatever is on your mind, Brian? There’s no right or wrong answer here. What’s your drug of choice?”

“Coke, I guess,” Brian answered solemnly.

“And how has that affected your life?”

“Not sure. It feels good, you know, when I’m doing it. It blacks out a lot of the other worthless shit I deal with on a regular basis. The morons at work, my family from hell, the constant blame from my so-called friends. I mean, if anything, they’re the fucking reasons why I need to do more of this shit. Yet when I do, they bitch and moan about me going overboard. It would have never gotten this bad without their interfering. Now, they won’t even let me see my goddamn son, can you believe it?” Brian asked the rest of the group.

“You have no one to blame but yourself!” Roy accused.

“Excuse me?” Brian questioned.

“We’re all here because we made some shitty decisions that led to some even shittier ones. Did your friends make you go out and buy your pretty white powder? No way, it all rests on your shoulders. It’s your lack of self control that got you here” Roy yelled angrily.

“Actually it was my boss, who caught me fucking a nice piece of ass in the office, that strongly recommended I come here. No rehab, no job. But you don’t know shit about that or anything else about my life!” Brian snapped back, his temper flaring.

“Brian, settle down,” Blake spoke calmly.

“Fuck this! I’m not going to sit here and be told by one more person what a fuck up I am and how I’m always the one to blame. I’m out of here!” Brian called as he stormed out the door.

Blake sighed as he watched Brian’s retreating figure before refocusing on the group.

Brian stormed back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

“What fucking right do they have to sit there and judge me? They know nothing about me,” Brian said to the empty room.

After taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down, he went over to the bed and reached underneath the mattress, pulling out the small flask he kept hidden there. Thank God Mikey was still on his side. All it took was a small promise to lay off the hard stuff and little Michael came running to his rescue.

He took a long swig of beam and savored the warm feeling that washed over him. He had to be easy on the amount he drank, since Michael wouldn’t be back to replace his stash until the following week, but he only needed a small amount to calm his nerves. Taking a few more sips, he slid the flask back in its hiding place and grabbed his cigarettes. He needed some fresh air.


Justin was packed and ready to go by the time Jennifer had returned home with Molly. She called over a neighborhood friend to watch over his sister and grabbed his bags before Justin could change his mind.

“Don’t we need to call somewhere or something?” Justin asked timidly, as he followed his mom out the door.

“I already did on the way to the hospital. They’re expecting us,” Jennifer explained.

“How did you know I’d go?”

“Because I know that you don’t want to be this person anymore either. You’re better than this and we both know it. You just have to stick with the program and you’ll be home in no time.”

“I hope so,” Justin muttered and hopped into the passenger seat. He was silent the entire ride to Pleasant Valley Rehab Facility and could feel his mom’s eyes on him, watching him as he stared out the window. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. At least Molly was going to be all right, needing only a small plastic cast to heal. His eyes remained glued to the outside world until the car pulled up the long winding road that ended in front of a large white building. From the outside it looked like a resort or some kind of country club, but Justin knew that inside those doors was quite the opposite.

He was sluggish as he exited the car and grabbed for the bags in the back seat. There were a couple of benches by the front door where a few people milled around talking. Justin’s eyes scanned them quickly with no regard until his gaze fell upon a tall auburn haired man. His hazel eyes bore deeply into Justin’s, stealing the breath from his body. The man was dressed casually in a black tank top and worn jeans, no doubt another patient. Justin had never been this captivated by any man before. Then again, over the past year he had never seen a beautiful man this close in perfect focus. Wherever the attraction stemmed from, it was immediate and frightening.

Brian was relaxing against the front entrance, inhaling his cigarette deeply to calm his nerves, when the newest recruit pulled up. The beautiful young blonde that stepped onto the curb was not your typical addict. He looked like a member of the country club set that had never touched anything harder than a menthol cigarette. Their eyes met and Brian was startled by the intensity of the blues locked on him. There was something so innocent yet troubled about the boy and he couldn’t help wanting to know more. Maybe Pleasant Valley was finally living up to its name. After a week of hell, he could use a little blonde pick me up.

Justin walked by Brian, looking away at the moment they passed one another. He could feel Brian’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he entered the lobby. Justin let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as soon as the door closed behind him. His moment of relaxation was short lived when he reached the front desk. A stern looking middle-aged woman greeted him and immediately started rattling off the many forms he needed to fill out. Justin grabbed the clipboard thrust in front of him and sat down in a nearby chair to start writing. His mother quickly followed, sitting down in the next chair over.

Brian stayed outside for a little longer, enjoying the cool breeze on his skin and the sweet taste of his cigarette. It was the only thing he had been able to smoke in the last week, a fact that he found quite disturbing. Once he had smoked it down to the butt, Brian put it out in the nearest receptacle and walked back inside. The blonde was still filling out the numerous idiotic forms he remembered so clearly from last Saturday. He noticed the slight shake in the boy’s hand as he wrote, almost like a cramp. The kid’s whole body was tense from top to bottom. Brian figured it would be more enjoyable to stay and watch him then head back to group so he remained in the lobby, leaning against a nearby wall.

Once Justin had dotted the last “I”, he handed all of the paperwork back to the not so friendly woman who immediately launched into “the rules”. There were so many “don’ts” and cant’s” Justin could hardly keep track. He nodded his head at the appropriate intervals and allowed his mind to wander over his new predicament. His hand was already starting to ache and he doubted the nurse would be very accommodating with a supply of Vicodin. He had wanted to pack a few in his bags but had been correct in his assumption that they would be going through his bags first. It had been one of the first rules listed off and possibly the only one he could remember. Justin turned his head a little to take in more of his surroundings and was surprised to see the man from outside, 20 feet away, staring at him. He was leaning nonchalantly against the wall, eyes peeled on Justin. The intensity of his gaze caused Justin’s whole body to coil up. His hand began to shake a little more fiercely and his body heat skyrocketed. He glared at the other man but it didn’t seem to deter him from his perusal of Justin. Finally, Justin couldn’t take it anymore.

“Would you stop it? Just stop looking at me. I mean it. Stop!” Justin yelled angrily. The nurse’s head perked up from her rule sheet at the sudden outburst.

“Justin, what is it? Why are you so agitated,” she asked.

“Him! He’s just looking at me and he won’t stop. What’s wrong with him? I don’t want anyone looking at me. Make him stop!”

The nurse looked over in Brian’s direction and motioned with her head toward the nearby corridor leading to the patient’s rooms. Brian remained frozen in place, startled by Justin’s outburst but also intrigued.

“Brian, move along. Don’t make me tell you twice,” the nurse instructed.

Brian’s eyes met hers. One more glance at the blonde and he headed back to his room. There was definitely a story there that he wanted to know. Brian could still hear the nurse attempting to calm the boy down as he walked down the hall.

Once Brian had disappeared from sight, Justin began to breath a little easier. His mom was lightly stroking his back, which reminded him of his childhood. He gave her a shaky smile and tried again to focus on whatever the nurse was saying.

“Justin, he’s gone now so there’s no more need for you to worry. It was just Brian. He’s another patient, just like you. You’ll notice a lot of them once you settle in. You just have to remember that no one is here to hurt you. We all just want to see you get better and move on with your life.”

Her little speech did nothing to reassure Justin that this was the right place for him. He also doubted that pain was not an option for treatment. They had six weeks to send him on the path to sobriety and a drugless existence. He wouldn’t be surprised if they all got some sort of a commission if he cleaned up within the allotted time span. As the nurse wrapped up her list of guidelines, Justin realized it was time to say good-bye to his mom and join the rest of the addicts. They hugged briefly and then she was gone. He remained in the lobby for a few more minutes taking deep breaths, before turning back to the nurse.

“Well, I guess you better show me my new accommodations. The sooner we start, the sooner I can go home.”

Justin silently followed the nurse, who he finally found out was named Katherine, down the same hall Brian has disappeared in earlier. Most of doors were open, people moving constantly in and out. He peered into one room where a boy paced back and forth ringing his hands. His eyes were glazed over and sweat pooled on his forehead. Justin turned to Katherine and arched his eyebrow in question.

“That’s Casey,” Katherine pointed out, “he arrived 2 days ago and is just starting to feel the effects of withdrawal. He was heavy into an assortment of illegal drugs so we’re keeping a close eye on him.”

Justin nodded his head and abstained from looking into any of the other rooms. He didn’t want to see what else was in store for him. They rounded another corner and stopped at an open door to his left. Justin stood just outside the doorway, waiting for something but not knowing what it was. Katherine motioned into the room and Justin finally complied, catching a glimpse of Brian as he disappeared into a nearby room. Justin was too busy taking in his new surroundings to think about what Brian was up to.

The moment Justin walked in he felt the desire to say, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” The room was stark white, the only identifiable color being the dark gray bedspreads tucked carefully with hospital corners. There was also an assortment of black t-shirts and silver jewelry strewn across one bed. Justin was jarred from his thoughts by Katherine’s dismissal.

“I’ll leave you here to get acquainted with everything. Your roommate, Malcolm should be back from group shortly. He’s an unusual boy but you should get along fine.”

Justin sat down heavily on his bed, swinging his legs back and forth. His new roommate was obviously into black and religion, at least based on the numerous large silver crosses littered across his bed. Before Justin had a chance to psychoanalyze his new roommate any further, Malcolm himself walked through the door and Justin’s mouth dropped open. Malcolm was tall, with long jet-black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and looked to be about the same age as Justin. His eyes were covered in smudges of black eyeliner and black nail polish stood out on each hand. He reminded Justin of every vampire movie he had ever seen and wondered if he should be worried about having his blood drained in the middle of the night.

Malcolm barely acknowledged Justin’s presence with a head nod before lying down on his bed. His eyes immediately closed. Confused by his behavior, Justin decided to take the big plunge and introduce himself.

“Hi, you must be Malcolm. I’m Justin, your new roommate. I guess that’s pretty obvious.”

Malcolm’s eyes opened momentarily, finally taking a good look at Justin.

“Obviously,” Malcolm replied, lying back against the pillows.

“So where are you from?”

Malcolm snorted and quickly sat upright, eyes blazing.

“I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here because it’s a mandatory part of my parole so if you don’t mind shutting the fuck up I’d like to get a little sleep before my appointment with the good doctor. Find somebody else to amuse you,” Malcolm snapped and turned on his side to face the opposite direction.

Justin couldn’t believe his horrible luck. He had only been in rehab for a grand total of one hour and had already freaked out in the lobby and pissed off his crazy Goth roommate. The alcohol and pills had worn off by now too. Everything was coming into focus and the fluorescent lights did nothing to calm his raging headache. His senses were on overload and he couldn’t remember the last time he was so aware of his entire body. Although he questioned his new roommate’s intelligence, taking a nap sounded like a great idea. Justin kicked off his shoes and crawled under the ratty covers. He refused to cry, even when his eyes began to blur from the liquid building in them. Shutting his eyes tightly, Justin finally drifted off to a restless sleep.

Brian had seen the new kid go into Malcolm’s room and couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Vance had paid extra to guarantee him his own room. There was no way Brian Kinney was sharing living space with some tweaked out Twinkie or breeder. He didn’t know much about Malcolm but his bad attitude and even worse sense of style was enough to deter him from finding out more. Malcolm’s last roommate had been moved into the psych ward two days ago. He wondered how long it would take for the blonde to flip out again and prayed that Malcolm got caught in the crossfire.

Brian walked over to his dresser and picked up the one photo he had brought with him. It was a shot of him and Mikey drinking a couple of beers at Woody’s. He was Brian’s last link to his so-called family. Everyone else had eventually turned his or her backs on him, even Debbie who had always seen through his bullshit. Brian couldn’t even remember the last time Lindz had allowed him to visit with his son. Like it or not Brian had become the absentee father he had hated growing up.

Nobody even knew he was here. Mikey had promised to keep it to himself, but only after threatening him with the well being of his favorite Captain Astro comics. None of his friends had been there for him during his worst moments so there was no way he wanted them here now. Maybe some day they could forgive each other, but that wasn’t today. No one could understand what he was going through, not even Mikey. He just couldn’t comprehend how difficult it was to keep up the Kinney image, without spiraling out of control. He wondered if the blonde had the same problem with his friends or if money really did buy happiness.

Justin awoke with a start, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. He thought he had been in the middle of a nightmare until he took in his surroundings and realized that he really was locked away in Rehab like some kind of criminal. Before he had time to think more about his situation, he bolted from his bed and raced to the bathroom, just making it in time for his stomach to empty its contents.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom as silently as he could so as not to wake his roommate. His head was swimming, his body ached and his stomach rolled as he slowly made his way back to his bed. His sheets were soaked in sweat but he didn’t care about that at the moment. All he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and die. Katherine had warned him of the withdrawal symptoms he would likely experience, but he never expected to feel this bad. As he lay in bed trying to make the room stop spinning, he couldn’t help but let the tears fall. He missed his family and wanted to go home. He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t a criminal or a drug addict. Drug addicts were crazed people, willing to do anything for their next fix. Hell, he didn’t even do drugs. The Vicodin was a prescription written for him by his doctor. Granted, the doctor stopped writing the script months ago, leaving Justin to find it other ways, but still, they were legal. It’s not like he was buying crystal off the street corner.

Before Justin had time to think about anything else his stomach rolled again, causing him to race back to the bathroom. A few hours later he gave up on trying to stay in bed and took his pillow to the bathroom where he spent the rest of the night on the floor, praying for someone to kill him.

The next morning, Justin was woken up to Malcolm shaking him.

“Hey, do you mind? I’d like to use the bathroom, too,”

“Fuck off,” he mumbled back. His body still hurt, but the sweats that he suffered the night before were replaced with chills that managed to shake his entire body. He slowly got up off the floor and stumbled back to his bed, tossing the pillow before heading out to the reception desk.

“I need to make a phone call,” Justin insisted to the woman behind the desk.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Our policy doesn’t permit patients to use the phone on a whim. You’ll need to discuss it with your counselor and get permission first."

“What? That’s bullshit! I want to use the God Damn phone!” Justin exclaimed, not caring about who heard his outburst. What kind of place wouldn’t let someone make a fucking telephone call?

Janie took in the man’s appearance and realized that he must be new. She could see the symptoms taking their toll on him.

“Just a moment, Sir,” she replied, reaching for the phone to call Chuck. He always had a way of settling down the new admits.

Justin waited by the desk for whomever the woman had called to arrive and was startled to see a big burly guy approaching.

“You must be Justin,” Chuck said, extending his hand to Justin. “I’m Chuck. I was just reading over your file in my office when Janie called. What seems to be the problem?”

“The problem is that I’m trying to make a phone call and SHE won’t let me.” Justin glared at Janie.

“Sorry Justin. Our policy states that there will be no personal calls allowed in or out until your counselor has had time to assess the situation,” Chuck explained gently.

“Fuck your policy and fuck you! I want to go home and I want to go now!” Justin knew he was being irrational, but he couldn’t help it. He was not going to sit there and suffer in a place that wouldn’t even let him use the phone.

“Justin, why don’t you come into my office and we can have a look at your chart and see what we can do for you,” Chuck replied softly. He took Justin’s arm and began leading him towards his office, knowing what he would find in his chart and knowing that he didn’t want to explain the situation out in the open for everyone to see.

Once they were inside with the door closed, Chuck began to explain. “Justin, it appears that there were stipulations to your admittance. Jennifer Taylor, I assume she’s your mother? She explained that there was an incident regarding your sister Molly. She’s really worried about you and fears for your safety and that of your family. She made it clear that if you were to sign yourself out, we are to contact her so she can call the police and bring charges against you for what happened to your sister.”

“What? You’re fucking kidding me, right? She knows I didn’t mean for it to happen. I love Molly! I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her!” Justin defended himself, horrified by what Chuck was suggesting.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t Justin, but when you are under the influence you aren’t the same person. Drugs change people’s behavior all the time. Your family wants the old Justin back and they’re willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. Now, what’s it going to be? Should I call in Pittsburgh’s finest?” Chuck asked solemnly.

Justin looked at Chuck incredulously and shook his head. He may not want to spend the next six weeks where he was, but he sure as hell didn’t want to spend them in a jail cell. “I’d like to go back to my room now. I don’t feel so good.” With that he rose from the chair and headed to the door, stopping only when he heard Chuck’s voice calling out to him.

“Justin, it will get easier. I promise.”

Justin didn’t even bother to reply. He just continued out of the door and to his room where he collapsed on the bed and cried. He’d never felt so alone in his life.

Justin had dozed on and off all morning. Each time he woke up he had hopes of feeling a little better, but it didn’t happen. If anything he just felt worse. The vomiting had stopped but only because he refused to eat the food that was offered to him. It hadn’t stopped the feelings of nausea that rolled over him constantly. His whole body shook and his body took turns going from sweating to the chills. By late in the afternoon he felt like a caged animal. He wanted to go home, go to the park, hell; he wanted to be anywhere but there. He began pacing the room, thankful that his roommate was nowhere in sight. He was startled when he heard a voice call him from the doorway.

“Justin, how are you holding up?” Chuck asked with concern. He hated watching the new admits suffer from their withdrawal.

“Oh, just fucking great,” Justin, replied dryly. “I need to get out of here. I can’t sit in this room anymore.”

“You can go to the day room if you’d like. There’s a TV in there and it's where everyone goes to get away for awhile,” Chuck offered.

“Thanks but no thanks. The last thing I want to do is go where everyone else goes,” Justin said, his sarcasm evident.

Chuck couldn’t help but smile at Justin’s attitude. For someone so small, he sure carried a big chip on his shoulder. “We have a small garden out back on the grounds. Maybe you’d like to go out there. It’s fenced in, of course, but at least it’s outside.”

Justin shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to show his excitement over something as insignificant as a small garden. The thought of being outside was like music to his ears.

Chuck could see Justin trying to hide his interest and held back his laughter. Everyone who came through seemed to have the same reaction. “Well, if you decide you want to check it out, just go down to the end of the hall and make a left. It’s the second door on the right. It’s the only door that doesn’t have an alarm.” He left then, knowing that the blond would be outside in less than ten minutes.

Justin waited until Chuck was gone before heading down the hall. Maybe some fresh air would do him some good. He found the door and stepped outside, noticing for the first time what a nice day it was. Somehow that didn’t make him feel any better. Taking a seat on a bench, Justin lost himself in memories of the past year. How had everything gone so wrong? He missed Jeff everyday, and wished there was a way he could turn back time and do it all over again. If he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that maybe he did take a few too many pills each day, but what other choice did he have? Ever since that asshole decided to use his head for batting practice, his hand had given him nothing but pain and trouble. He was an artist, or at least he was supposed to be. That dream disappeared with the swing of the bat. He tried, he really did. He’d done every exercise the doctor told him to and never missed a therapy session, but it was all for nothing. When he sat down to sketch, his hand only cooperated for about fifteen minutes before the muscles tightened and his hand shook. The Vicodin helped though, making it easier for him to work longer without the problems, but it wasn’t a total fix. His life as an artist was over before it actually began and without that, what did he have?

Then his mind began to run through the incident with Molly. He really didn’t remember too much of what happened. They said it was one of his rages. His mother always talked about them, but Justin never really had any memory of them. The only memory he really had of the other night was seeing his mother helping Molly off the floor and taking her to the emergency room. Her arm was broken; he was responsible for hurting his sister and he didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself for that. Suddenly the tears began to fall and Justin sobbed softly for all the pain he had caused. He was so lost in thought that he never heard the other man approach.

“Hey, it’s really not that bad,” Brian said, quietly. He didn’t know why he decided to say anything to the blond. He’d recognized him as the new admit for the day before and couldn’t help but try to offer comfort. Damn, a week in the place and he was already turning soft.

Justin jumped at the sound of the man’s voice and quickly brushed away his tears. “What the fuck do you know?”

“Look around, would you? We’re all here for a reason. I’m not saying that things aren’t fucked up, but it’s not worth crying over. Life is shit; you get over it and move on.”

Justin stared up into the most beautiful hazel eyes he’d ever seen and recognized the man from the lobby the day before. “Yeah, right. Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I guess I was a little out of it. It’s just that I don’t belong here…”

Brian chuckled at his words. “Look…uh,”

“Justin.”

“Right, Justin. Look, we all belong here, whether we want to acknowledge it or not. This isn’t the Holiday Inn, its rehab, and we aren’t here for their wonderful spa accommodations. We’re here because we fucked up, or so they tell me. You might as well get used to it otherwise you’ll drive yourself and everyone around you crazy for the next six weeks,” Brian told him before turning to walk away

As an after thought he turned back and added, “by the way, you look like shit. I’m guessing that it was a rough night. Don’t worry, it does get better. Once your system is clean you’ll begin to feel a little human again.”

Justin watched the gorgeous man walk away and couldn’t help but think about what he said. Maybe he was right? Maybe he needed to admit that he fucked up and try to move on. Well, it was worth a shot. He didn’t have anything else to do for the next six weeks.

End of part 1
7/2/04
 

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