They were seated at a table in the center of the cafeteria, a couple PCA's wandering around the room.  Mike watched them as they walked across the cafeteria to talk to the lunch ladies. He couldn't hear anything they were saying aside from moments of laughter.  He glanced back over at Layne, who was staring off into space into his traveling mug the psych unit had given him as a "welcoming gift".  Layne's pupils were tiny pin dots, his eyelids sloppily hanging over his bloodshot, glassy eyes.

"How in the heck are you stoned in rehab?" Mike muttered quietly to Staley, a look of disappointment matted on his face.

Layne glanced up at him from his coffee, taking a sip from the mug. He clumsily tried to place it back down on the table, laughing quietly when it dropped to the floor & bounced against the tile. The coffee spilled out into a puddle of brown liquid.

"Shit," he murmured to himself. He yanked a few napkins from the steel container on the table and wiped up the substance from the floor, tapping the mug back on the table.

"You okay, over there?!" One of the PCA's voice echoed from across the cafeteria.

"PEACHY KEEN!" Layne shouted, grinning over at Mike.  His smile faltered when he recognized the judgment on his friend's face.  "What?" he asked, brows crinkling in confusion.

"Oh, don't try to act all innocent, Layne," Mike barked. He leaned back in the shitty plastic chair & crossed his arms over his chest.  His curly brown hair slid down over his face, making him look all the more pissed off.  "What the fuck are you on?  And how in the world did you get it in REHAB, of all places?" he whispered, resting his elbows on the table and leaning on his hands.

Layne sighed, thumping his leg up and down, glaring wearily back over at the PCA's.  They were supposed to be here with them to keep an eye on them, but instead they seemed to be more concerned with cracking jokes with the lunch ladies...

"I met a guy in here.  I don't know how he got it, he OBVIOUSLY wouldn't tell another patient in here where."  He narrowed his eyes at Mike, grinning maliciously at him.  "And you're stoned, too, I can tell.  Most likely on that fucking Valium, aye?"

Mike gave him the death stare, fidgeting into his pocket, & holding out a blue round pill.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Layne shrieked through clenched teeth, eyes slanting back over at the PCA's.

Mike laughed softly.  "They don't care what we're doing.  They're not even watching us."  He popped the pill under his tongue, smirking at Layne as he watched his face turn red.

"What...what the fuck, Mike?"

He shrugged.  "They're my blue little friends, just like your needle & crack pipe," he reached over and grabbed a straw out of the round container from the center of the table. He stripped the paper sleeve off of it & began to roll it into a ball.  "You have no right to judge, junky."

"Well, I wouldn't be if you were in here with me," Layne spat, eyeing the straw in Mike's hand.

"What did that other junky give you?"

Layne smiled, yanking the straw away from Mike and tossing it into the trash can behind him.  "Pain killers.  Why do you care, you benzo freak?"

Mike shrugged, smiling.  "What's rehab like, anyways?"

Layne sighed loudly, irritation shrouded deep in his core. "I really don't want to talk about it."  He narrowed his eyes at Mike & raised a curious brow.  "How's that hot little groupie you picked up at the detox wing?"

"She's addicted to Xanax," Mike said, laughing.

Layne rolled his eyes.  "Oh, the irony..."

He smirked.  "I know, right?  She has to get her friend's pee so she can continue to work," he giggled, "she's a freak, though.  Great in bed."

"Well, that's good.  Sean & Jerry were getting hemmorrhoids from your shit," Layne spat, laughing with him.

Mike ran his hand through his hair, glancing back over at the PCA's.  "When do you think you'll get out of here?  We all really want to start up the band again like the good 'ol days..."

"What about Inez...?"

Mike rolled his eyes.  "That frosted corn flake joined back with Ozzy after our best hits album, don't you remember?"  He laughed when Layne gave him a pointed look.  "Yeah...of course you wouldn't..."

"I don't know when they're letting me out," Layne growled, picking at his fingernails.  "Think in the next few weeks but you never know with these incompetent assholes..."

"Well, Jerry & I already recorded a few guitar tracks.  It sounds pretty solid."

Layne licked his lips, fidgeting in his chair.  "Does the groupie like it?"

Mike sighed.  "Erica isn't a groupie.  We're actually dating now..."  He looked up at Layne, a stroke of curiosity running through him. "When the heck are you going to get a girl?"

Layne stretched his mouth open with his fingers, blushing when Mike looked away.  "When I find one that enjoys getting gummed."

Mike looked back, grinning.  "I know Sean does..."

Layne laughed, shaking his head.  "Oh my god, it never fucking ends."

"LAYNE!" The PCA, John, shouted, walking over to them.  "It's 15 minutes until Narcotics group, we gotta go if you want some actual CLOTHES on you."

They both stood up. Layne was shocked when Mike gripped his hand.  He felt the little round pills form into his palm. He shot Mike a look.  "Why?" he whispered.

Mike shrugged, letting go of his hand.  "Thought you'd like back up," he whispered into his ear.

"It was great meeting you, Mike!" John blubbered, sticking out his hand.  Mike grunted, shaking it, & forcing a smile.  Mike glanced over at Layne, who quickly placed his hand over his mouth.  He assumed Layne was tonguing them to save for later.

"Yep, heard from Layne you're a fan," Mike finally answered, winking over at Layne who was rolling his eyes.

John turned back to Layne, placing his huge gorilla hand on his shoulder.  "Come on, let's get you some clothes."

"See you, Layne!" Mike called out, waving at him as he slowly made his way to the exit door.

"Wish me luck," Layne muttered miserably. A grin stretched across his thin face when he heard Mike's laughter.

*******

"Look at you, all fancy," Alex whispered into Layne's ear, eyeing the dark wash jeans & blue sweater hanging off of the singer's body.

"Yep.  I have clothes," he answered. He kept his eyes still Nicky, who was hunched over in her enormous black hoody. She had a strained look on her pale, washed out face.

"I think I'm going to miss that dress you had on though," Alex continued. He winked at Layne when he caught the annoyed look on his face.  "You were queen.......QUEEN OF THE RODEOOOO!" He screamed obnoxiously.

"Christ's sake dude, are you FIVE?" Layne growled, shoving his hands into his sweater pockets.

Alex laughed & shook his head.  "You're about 35 years off...but close though, very VERY close..."

"Why are you such a fucking retard?" Nicky muttered. She ran her fingers through her hair and flicked the loose strands onto the ground.

"Ask Woody, she knows ALL ABOUT ME," Alex said with a shit eating grin.

"Please, for the love of GOD, shut UP!" Nicky squeaked, leaning back in her chair.  She smiled up at Layne, though, winking at him.

"OKAY, everyone!" A male therapist shouted from infront of the room, standing from his seat.  All of the chairs in the room were aligned in a circle, just like all of the other 12 step groups Layne had attended.  "As you all know, this is a Narcotics meeting.  So, let's all go around the room and introduce ourselves & explain what we are addicted to."  He paused, looking around the room to see if anyone would ask a question.  Clearing his throat, he continued.  "I'll start.  My name is Andrew, been sober from cocaine for 6 years now."

Everyone clapped, all droning out in sad, irritated voices "hi Andrew".

The person to the right of him stood up, muttering quietly their name.  No one could make out what the girl was saying, so they just slowly clapped, confused.

"I'M JOSH!" The man next to her shouted awkwardly, his eyes wide.  Layne jumped, making Nicky laugh hysterically.  "AND IM FUCKING PISSED OFF!!!"

Alex laughed, "ME TOO!!!"

"SHUT UP YOU FUCK!" Josh screamed, grabbing his plastic chair and tossing it at him.  All of them dunked, the chair smacking the cement wall and bouncing on the ground.  Josh stormed out, not even bothering to shut the door.

"Okaaaaaaay," Layne muttered, eyes wide, laughing.

Nicky leaned close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.  "Josh always does that," she whispered. "Try to stay away from him... He tends to get physical.  The PCA's always have to toss him in the seclusion room."

"What the fuck is he in here for?" Layne muttered. He watched Andrew, the group leader, shut the door and allowed the other addicts to continue introducing themselves.

"He shot up rhino & elephant steroids," Alex said before Nicky could answer.  "I think he's smuggling them in here still."

"Jesus Christ." Layne muffled. He glared over at the random woman next to Alex, who was sobbing about how she needed her 'shit'.

When she finished, Alex stood up, still laughing.  "That was very moving, Chelsea," he said to the brunette whom was still crying.

Andrew rolled his eyes.  "Alex.  Just...stop."

"Okay...fine," Alex grumbled, "just trying to lighten this shithole up a TIT."

"ALEX." Andrew spat, now on edge.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.  "Well, as ALL OF YOU KNOW, my name is Alex..."

"Hi, Alex."

He sighed, scratching his ear.  "I'm addicted to speed, mostly meth...that shit ROCKS MAH SOCKSSSS...ummm...heroin.  Never shot up, though, don't be hating!  Boy's the bomb.  Uhhh...prescription medications...mostly shit like klonopin & phenobarbital...  Maaaary Jane, though that shit's lame as fuck, I only toked up when I couldn't get the other stuffs...  Uh...Luuuuucy in the skyyyyy with DIAAAMONDS," he giggled awkwardly, "or you could just call it LSD...oh and x.  That shit is AWESOME when your fucking--"

"Okay okay WE GET IT, Alex," Andrew interrupted, rubbing his temples.  Layne laughed, shaking his head at the sociopath as he sat back down, that huge smile still smeared across his dark face.  Andrew gave Layne a pointed stare.

"Oh..." he muttered, glancing around the room nervously.

Nicky shoved him, "get up, you dork."

He slowly stood up, glancing at his shoes.  "I'm Layne--"

"HE'S GOAT BOY!" Alex shouted.

Andrew glared it him, shaking his head.  "Do you really want to get kicked out AGAIN, Alex?  You know, the more you act up, the longer you'll be in here."

Alex frowned & lowered his head.

"...hi Layne."

"I'm...ummm," he looked back over at Nicky, who smiled at him, nodding at him to continue.  "Mostly addicted to opiates & speed...  I love speed balling," he fought himself from grinning, thinking of the times he used to get fucked up.  "I've shot up smack, ice, blow...was into prescription meds also if my main man was dry..." He sat down, his face burning as he glared over at Nicky.

"Don't even try to stand up, Nicole, I know you haven't ate today," Andrew growled.

"IT'S NICKY, JESUS!  Only been here for a fucking MONTH now!" She hissed.  Alex couldn't help but to laugh.

"Hi, Nicole..."

"Fuck!" she continued, waving her arms in the air.  "CALL ME NICKY!"

"...hi Nicky."

Layne laughed, giving her a look.  She glared at him, her mouth twitching.  She finally smiled.  "I'm addicted to ice, otherwise known as meth, too.  And Adderall."

The next person stood up, blubbering their name, but Layne ignored her. His attention was focused on Nicky.  "Why do you hate your actual name so much?" He asked her.

"I'd rather not talk about it," she sneered, her face in her hands.

He sighed.  "You can tell me anything, you know?"

She got up from her chair, swaying like a drunk on her feet.  "I told you, STOP WORRYING ABOUT ME!" she yelled at Layne. Clumsily, she ran out the door.  Layne followed her, finding her on the carpeted floor in the lounging area, face first.  John was running towards her, but Layne beat him. He wrapped his arms around her frail body, his eyebrows creased with worry.

"If it bothers you that much, you should talk about it..." Layne muttered as he pulled her onto his lap.

"Just take me to my fucking room," she spat, her eyes clamped tight.

Layne swung her body over his shoulder, military style. He walked her over to her bed and laid her down upon the mattress. She grimaced when she saw John standing next to Layne, a packaged sandwich in his hand.

"EAT," John demanded, trying to hand her the sandwich.  She slapped it out of his hand, causing it to fall to the ground.  He sighed & picking it back up. He clenched her bone arm violently & shoved the sandwich into her hand.  "Eat it NOW.  Or we'll give you the NG tube again.  TODAY."

She stared at the sandwich for a moment. A sigh of anxiety hissed from her when her eyes slunk back up at Layne, who was giving her a worried look.  She opened up the package.  "I'll eat it if you leave."

"Who, me?" Layne asked, confused.

She glanced up at John.  He nodded, starting towards the door.  She watched Layne as he sat down in the chair next to her bedroom window.  "Please...don't watch me?" She asked, blushing.

Layne shrugged, spinning around in his chair and glaring out the window.  It was quiet for a while.  "I would still like to know..." he murmured, tears in his eyes.  The high from the hydrocodone was fading away, giving him that intense feeling of regret and self hatred all over again.

"Why?  Why do you care?  You don't KNOW ME."

"I would like to know you..." He admitted. His thin body shook from trying his best not to cry.

She sighed.  "It's because of my father."

Layne turned around, seeing that she had only taken one tiny bite out of the sandwich & had set it on her nightstand.  His brows wrinkled in concern when he noticed her eyes were filled with tears.  "Your father...?"

"He...he..." she covered her face, breaking down in sobs.  Layne got up from the chair and grabbed ahold of her, making her lie on her side so he could spoon with her.  He hugged her tight & close to his body, allowing her to weep into the sleeve of his sweater.  "He raped me...and beat me...  Always called out my name as he...raped me..."

"What the fuck," Layne growled, holding her tighter.  He wiped her tears from her cheeks with his finger.  "Where is he?  When I get out, I'll take care of the piece of shit..."

She suddenly laughed.  The laugh sounded almost demonic, making his heart stop with fear.  "My ex already took care of that cunt," she muttered, pleasure drenching her soft voice.  "He allowed me to watch, too."

Layne sat up, grabbing his head, totally mind-fucked.  He then glared down at her, studying that devilish grin on her face.  "What...what the heck did you guys do to him...?"