"Would you say you drink a lot, Mr. Gaskarth?"

She was a tall, dark skined woman. Her hair was shaved, but in a very professional way, making her cheek bones stand out even more than they already did. Looking into her gray eyes, it was obvious to see that she'd seen a lot of ugly things in this world, almost to the extent that she appeared to have no real feelings at all. Her dress-suit was a deep shade of blue, showing off all the curves she had, but still leaving a lot of room for the mind to wander. She was serious, so serious, that it was hard not feel like you were being judged when she looked at you.

"I don't think that's any of your business, lady," Alex averted his gaze. He felt like a small child being fussed at by his mother. It made him feel weak and ashamed.

"Actually, Alexander, it is my business. I was sent to your room for one purpose - To evaluate you."

"I don't need you to evaluate me. You have no right to barge in here and start asking me personal questions."

"Oh yes I do, young man." She flipped open the large folder sitting in her lap. Her eyes scanned the words quickly, and once she was done, she looked back up at Alex with sad eyes. "Your charts say that you were diagnosed with depression a few years ago. Can you tell me more about that?"

"No, I can't." Alex groaned, wanting nothing more than to leave the room he was confined to. The pale white walls were starting to make him go crazy. "I'd really like it if you left me alone now."

"Fine," she closed the folder. "But let me tell you something, Alexander, I am a very busy woman. I took time out of my day to come in here so that you could leave a little earlier. You are a nineteen-year-old boy who was brought into my hospital with alcohol poisoning. Are you even aware of the fact that your heart stopped beating last night? We spoke to your friends. They informed us that you drink much more than you probably should. This is far more than just a case of underage drinking, which, mind you, I could charge you for. On top of your depression and the fact that you refuse to be evaluated, I wouldn't expect to be out of here in time for your next stop, as your friends put it. We'll have to call the closest to kin to come check you out, as you aren't mentally stable enough to do so yourself."

She stood up quickly and began walking towards the door. Her heels were clicking agasint the white floor, and unless Alex said something now, she would have no intention of returning to his room. He didn't want to talk to her, but he did want to know why he wasn't considered as mentally stable and he didn't want to worry his parents with the fact that he nearly died the night before.

"All right," he sighed, sitting further up in his bed. "I'll talk."

"Good." The stern-faced woman actually smiled, her heels clicking loudly until she took her seat again. "Now. What do you think caused your depression?"

"I, well, I really don't know. I've always been a little off for as long as I can remember. I guess I got really bad after my brother died. I was never, and still am not, suicidal like he was, but I'm definitely not right in the head.."

"There is nothing wrong with you, Alexander. This happens to many young adults. You said your bother died. What happened?"

"Just as I said." Alex gulped. It was never easy for him to talk about Thomas. "He, uh, killed himself."

"Oh." She frowned. "I'm very sorry for your loss. Do you think maybe that has something to do with the amout of alcohol you consume?"

"No, not at all. I mean, it was hard, but I survived. I'm not really sure what's going on with me. Everything was great. The band got signed, I was in the best relationship I've ever been in, we started touring.. Then it just hit me one day. I'm nothing. I'm a piece of shit. I don't deserve any of this."

"Okay. Tell me more, tell me everything."

And so he did. Alex told her every single thing he'd been feeling lately. He told her about how hard it was to make himself get out of bed, mentioned the way he'd cheated on Jack for reasons he didn't quiet understand, told her about how hard it was to love himself. Everything he'd felt over these last few months spilled out of his mouth within the span of an hour.

"Alex, do you think maybe it's possible that you have some sort of survivor's guilt? In most cases like this, I work with someone in.. Let's say, a car accident. Sometimes only one person survives the crash, leaving the other feeling that they don't deserve to be alive. It seems to me that, when your life finally fell into place and you had a chance of really being happen, something horrible came into your mind. I honestly think you're trying to ruin your own life because your brother isn't here to enjoy one for himself. I think in some strange way, you're trying to punish yourself because you didn't get a chance to save him."

"I never thougth of that," Alex frowned, fiddling with the sheet on his bed. "But it makes sense. How do I fix it, though? How do I let it go and let him rest so I can move on with my life?"

"It won't be easy, but since you do have a life to live, here's what we're going to do." She flipped open the folder again and began writing things down. "I'm going to go get this filled for you. I'm going to give you an anti-depressant. Along with that, you and I are going to have a phone call therapy session once a week."

"Oh joy."

"It won't be so bad," she stood up, extending her hand to him. "I'm Robyn, by the way. Now that I've gotten to know you, I can say it was a pleasure to meet you. As soon as the nurses bring in your medicine, you'll be free to go."

"Thanks.. Robyn."

_________________________

"I'm just so happy you're alive."

Jack Barakat was curled up in the back lounge with his boyfriend once again. Alex's head was resting on his shoulder, he was still so tired and so drained that they had to cancel the show. He'd noticed that taking his new medication kind of turned him into a zombie, so he told his friends he took the pills, when really he found some stoner kid to sell them to. He had no desire to self-medicate unless that medication came in the form of liquid.

"Me too," Alex forced a smile. "I'm surprised you even still want me."

"I finally understand that you're really sick, Al." Jack brushed strands away from his boyfriend's tired face. "I'm going to do my best to fix you."

"Please don't do that," Alex lifted his head. His chocolate eyes grazed over every inch of Jack's face. He could see how much the boy loved him, but he suddenly felt unworthy of that love. "Just be with me because you want to be. Don't be with me because I'm messed up or you want to fix me."

"I loved you before you were sick, and I'll love you when you're better," Jack smiled, pushing Alex's hair out of his eyes. "I'm just so glad you came back to me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hate you, Alex?"

"Can't be that hard," Alex shrugged, turning away from his boyfriend. "I do it everyday."

"Then let me remind you how it feels to be loved... Really loved."

Alex was going to deny Jack's request, because in all honesty, there was no way anyone could make him feel loved right now. If anything, he just felt worse. Worse about what he'd done to Jack and heartbroken that he still hand the younger boy wrapped around his finger. How could that be fair? How could he have allowed that to happen? Still, Jack held his hand, ran his fingers along Alex's arm, kissed his neck with the sweetest sensation of kisses.

Was it even possible for Alex to love Jack when he couldn't even love himself?

"Come here," Jack breathed, holding out his arms. "I want you."

Alex did as he was told. He pressed his lips into Jack's with such a force he knocked the young man backwards. It was a hot mess of passion, how quickly they were tugging on each other's clothes and gasping for air, but the main purpose had been served. Alex got lost in the moment, and for just a second, everything was okay.

Notes

Okay, kids. If you could all please turn your attention back to chapter one, that's where our next chapter will pick up. Mucho love<3.