Dangerous Objectives

© Sweet Kisses™

They were all sitting in a circle, all six of them, ready to start the rehabilitation process. The place was the living room, which was quite amusing to them all because it was hardly living. It was enormous, with huge old statues of past Presidents and fictitious monsters surrounding them.

Dr Sheffield sat with her legs crossed, a pen and clipboard in hand, her face all business. "I trust everyone ate well," she said, not looking up from her notes.

"Not really. Who the hell cooks around this joint?" Nick asked, holding down the bandage that was covered by a long-sleeve black shirt.

"Nick, shut up," Kevin snapped, twisting his head from side to side. "You can be such a pain in the ass". This particular brand of coke he'd been sniffing was making him irritable, not relaxed and placid like usual. He didn't like it much, people would get suspicious. So far only Nick and the doctor knew his secret.

That would all change.

A.J rubbed his head, his complexion paling considerably. "May I be excused? I need to go to the bathroom."

"No," the doctor answered quickly. "Not until the first session is over. I want no interruptions during this. It has to run smoothly."

"I'd like to find out how smoothly she runs," Howie said softly, practically drooling in his seat.

Brian closed his eyes, clutching his bible tightly. "Please. Don't contaminate me with such foul nonsense. God doesn't like it!"

"For your fucking information," Howie seethed, leaning across and grabbing Brian by the shirt. He looked scared. "God doesn't - "

"Gentlemen!" the doctor barked. "Must I remind you about profanity and behaviour while you're here? And I was under the impression you were grown men."

"No, they're not," A.J supplied.

The doctor turned cold blue eyes on him. "And you're the most childish one of them all!"

Nick rubbed his hands together. "That sure shut him up!"

The doctor silenced Nick with a glare before speaking. She sat down and crossed her legs once more. "All right, let's begin." She cleared her throat. "Who would like to start?"

No one answered, they all just looked at each other.

Dr Sheffield smiled. "Fine then, I'll just have to choose one of you myself. That is, if none of you volunteer first."

No one did.

A.J put his hands out in front of him. "Is it just me or is this place spinning really, really fast?" The bottle of vodka he'd downed in private in the bathroom after dinner was catching up to him. He suddenly felt queasy. He thought he might even throw up then and there.

They all looked at him as though he had grown another head.

Dr Sheffield shook her head at A.J's nonsense and sighed. "All right, you leave me no choice." She turned to Nick and smiled. "Mr Carter, you can do the honours and start the session." She pointed to the middle of the floor. "It's all yours. Start talking!"

Nick stood up slowly and walked slowly to the centre of the circle. All eyes were on him and he pivoted a little, looking scared and frightened like a lamb. His wrist hurt, but he loved the pain, he got off on it, and his head was beginning to hurt. Damn that.

He looked to the doctor, trying his best to win her over with a helpless expression. "What do I say? Where do I begin? Do I really have to start?"

The doctor, however, was unfazed at his helplessness. "Yes, Mr Carter, you must start. Life is tough, rehabilitation is tougher. I suggest you deal with it."

Nick cleared his throat, ran his fingers through his hair and his lower lip quivered. "Well...umm...I'm here because...well...I've tried to kill myself a few...million times..."

"No way," Howie breathed.

Brian crossed his heart and looked skyward. "Please, God, keep this man in your care."

A.J rolled his eyes. "For God's sake, Brian, give it a rest."

"Are we done disagreeing like children? Can we continue now?" Dr Sheffield asked in a motherly voice.

They nodded, and put their eyes back on Nick.

"Why do you keep trying to commit suicide, Mr Carter? Is there a reason behind all this?" she asked with a pen in hand.

Nick kept his blue eyes to the floor. "Well, I don't know why I keep doing it. When I do, this rush just flies through me, it's like I'm on a high or something," he said, looking up at Kevin. Kevin looked away, his head spinning, like A.J's, something chronic.

Nick twisted and untwisted his hands, his voice sounding distressed. "I, like, get off on it. It's hard to explain...but yeah, I really get off on it."

"Whatta sicko," A.J whispered.

"A man after my own heart," Howie said. He gasped when A.J turned to him with a shocked expression. "Me and my stupid mouth!"

"That's enough for today, Mr Carter," the doctor interrupted. "We can cover more in the individual session."

"Can't wait," Howie whispered.

She turned to Kevin. "Mr Richardson, take the floor. It's your turn."

Kevin stood up and walked into the centre of the circle. He began to sway a little, but he was able to control his balance after a few moments.

"Someone's been snorting a little too much tonight," Nick whispered to himself.

Kevin's eyes appeared vacant as he began to talk in a soft voice. He sounded very out of it. "Umm....well, I'm here because...well...I'm a junkie, basically..."

A.J burst out laughing, his head hurting even more when he laughed. "That's gotta be the line of the day! Literally, too! Kevin, a junkie! Man, that's too damn funny!"

"Mr McLean, if you've finished...?" the doctor said.

"Oh, yeah, of course. Do continue."

Kevin nodded. "Umm...I don't know when I got addicted to it, but it's like....kind of like what Nick said."

"Christ," A.J whispered. "Another sicko."

"God will strike you down for taking his name in vain," Brian said, holding onto the bible tightly. "Blasphemy is not virtuous."

A.J rolled his eyes as Kevin continued. "Well, I'm not telling you who my supplier is, but I'm really thankful I met that person." He paused. "My saviour," he added in a barely audible murmur with a far away expression.

Dr Sheffield cleared her throat. "Thank you." She looked at Howie. "Mr Dorough, if you don't mind...?"

Howie stood up and walked into the circle. He chuckled. "This is pretty pointless, but anyway. Well, all day I dream about sex, so that would make me a nymphomaniac..."

"Oh my god," Nick said. "I'm keeping away from this dude!"

"But sex is supposed to be good," Howie went on. "It's supposed to be an act of love, trust, desire, passion, love..."

"Shit, this guy is psychotic!" Nick said.

"Not as much as you," A.J snapped.

"Guys, settle down," Kevin objected in a soft voice.

A.J snickered. "Aww, go snort some more coke, Kevy," he said. "You looked normal for a minute there."

"Fuck you!" Kevin exclaimed before jumping out of his chair and sauntering out of the room.

Dr Sheffield stood up. "Gentlemen, may I remind you that the first step to being rehabilitated is to accept your problems as well as others, not put them down. You need each other's support through this." She sighed. "You're obviously all tired and need rest. Breakfast is at nine, I expect all of you to be up and ready to face the day."

They all nodded.

"Goodnight, gentlemen, sleep well."

~**~

Kevin threw himself down on his bed, furious by what A.J had said to him. The point of rehab was to accept the problems in your life, not to throw it back in your face! But, for some reason, he didn't have the strength to be mad. He didn't have the strength to put A.J in his place.

He didn't have the strength to do much at all.

Sure, he'd lost a little weight. Sure, his eyes were sunken and his expression was drawn. Sure, he had a concerned mother, who was always on his back. Was that any need to get hysterical and send him to this haunted place, where he'd most likely commit suicide than seek help?

Hell no. 

He sat up and knew what he needed. He knew exactly what he needed. He pulled it out of a safe drawer and held it in front of him. He didn't take it in needle form, track marks were tell-tale signs of a rock-star junkie. Leaning down closer to the powder that was in a line, he inhaled deeply. He sat back and allowed the rush to go through him.

The room was spinning, his head was spinning. He could see colours, many different colours. Rainbows, flowers, pixies and leprechauns all dancing in a field with the sun shining and a bright blue sky. Then, he saw his father.

He reached out for him, his father who was smiling at him, holding out his own hand to reach his son. "Dad...?"

There was no answer, he disappeared.

Kevin laid back and began to cry.

~***~

"What do I need? I need a drink! When do I want it? Now!" A.J sang to himself as he made his way into his room.

He shut the door behind him and locked it, not caring if Brian or Howie needed to go to sleep. He needed to hit the booze, in a big way, and that was far more important than sleep or anything else of that nature as far as he was concerned. And so what if he was in rehab? What did that matter?

He picked up a bottle of rum out of his bag and his cigarettes and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the wall. He twisted the lid off and threw it to the floor. Raising the bottle to his mouth, he took several long swallows.

All his pain and anger suddenly washed away like the liquid pouring into his body. He felt relief, he felt closure, he felt a sudden wave of happiness. Nobody needed to know why it made him happy, that was just for himself. All the rest of them could go jump, including Miss Bitch!

He took a deep breath as he lowered the bottle. "Damn, that's good," he said softly as he lit up and inhaled deeply.

As he exhaled the smoke, the handle on the door began to twist. Then, someone knocking on the door. "A.J! A.J! Open up!" came Brian's voice. "God wants me to sleep!"

"Fuck God," A.J whispered as he took another swallow, the cigarette perched between two fingers.

Brian, and God, would just have to wait until he was finished.

~****~

Howie had a plan. A rather devious plan. He actually thought of himself as a genius because of it. It was the best plan he'd had in ages. Apart from bringing the pornography along for the ride. It was his life and blood, his comfort. As long as he had it, he knew he could survive this ordeal.

He walked into the very large and quiet kitchen. It was all decked out in metal and wood. If someone actually took the time to clean it every once in a while, it wouldn't actually be a bad place. Though, it was rather scary.

He found Dr Sheffield sitting at the kitchen table on a stool. He raised his eyebrows when he saw that she was no longer in her suit and heels. She was sitting in front of a lap-top, with thinly framed glasses on. He had to admit, she got his heart racing.

"What can I do for you, Mr Dorough?" she asked flatly, not looking up for a moment, still typing away.

He suddenly felt nervous. "Why don't you ever call us by our first name?"

"I'm never on a first name basis with my clients. It's too personal. I cannot become emotionally involved. Rule number one for a psychologist."

Howie smiled and stepped closer to her. "You know, I think you're really quite intelligent." He chuckled. "And quite beautiful."

"You will maintain your distance, Mr Dorough, if you require my help in future," she said reproachfully.

Howie leaned against the kitchen counter, directly in front of her. "So you don't find me attractive?"

Dr Sheffield finally looked up and narrowed her eyes. "Mr Dorough, flattery will get you nowhere with me. You're advances are pitiful and childish. I'd expect more from a fifteen year old."

Howie stood up. This lady was a real bitch! But he wasn't going to give up so easily. He wasn't called 'latin lover' for nothing. "Dr Sheffield, or can I call you Elizabeth?"

"Dr Sheffield will suffice," she replied, taking off her glasses and setting them down on the counter.

"I wonder why you're here to help us. We're not exactly conforming to your requirements. Why do you want to help us?"

She shook her head. "The same reason why I help anybody. I don't like to see people in trouble. If I can help just one person in the whole world, my time and my patience will have made it all worth it."

Howie smiled. "So you still don't find me attractive?"

She laughed. "Mr Dorough, each of you is attractive in your own way. Mr Richardson is attractive because he's intelligent and mysterious. Mr Littrell is attractive because he's shy and quiet. Mr Carter is attractive because he's young and youthful. Mr McLean is attractive because he's bold and brash. And you..."

"And me?"

"You're attractive simply because you are."

Howie smiled. "I see. I'm attractive simply because I am."

"Yes."

"I take it that means you don't want me?"

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling. "Try better next time." She looked at her watch. "Turn in, Mr Dorough, it's way past your bed time."

Howie nodded and began to walk out. As he got to the door, he turned around. "You'll want me, one day you will."

She raised her eyebrows. "Don't hold your breath waiting."

~*****~

Nick opened the door to his room, sniffing and wiping the tears away from his eyes. Stupid psychologist bitch! How dare she humiliate him in front of his best friends! How dare she make him talk about his problems in front of them! That was uncalled for.

Extremely uncalled for.

The room was dark and quiet. He snapped on the lights. Kevin sat up, and Nick noticed that Kevin had been crying. As Kevin rubbed his eyes, Nick sat down on the edge of the bed. "Kevin, what's the matter?"

His head was still spinning, though not as much as before. "Nothing. There's nothing wrong. What makes you think that?"

"You've been crying, Kevin."

Kevin wasn't too high to notice that Nick had been, too. "So have you. What's with your tears?"

Nick bowed his head. "She humiliated me. In front of everyone. She made me talk about my problems in front of you...you probably think I'm crazy."

"No more crazy than the rest of us," Kevin pointed out in a soft voice. "That's why we're here, to stop being crazy."

Nick narrowed his eyes. "You certainly haven't stopped."

Kevin sat up straighter. "Huh?"

Nick noticed Kevin's glassy green eyes. "You got high again when you came back here, didn't you?"

"So what?"

"So that's why we're here, to stop all of this shit," Nick said in a forceful tone.

Kevin grabbed Nick's arm and pushed up his sleeve. He sighed when he saw the bandage. "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

Nick took his arm away and pushed the sleeve down. "I guess." After a moment, a few tears ran down his face.

Kevin looked concerned. "Why are you crying?"

Nick looked up, his eyes red and his face pale. "I don't want to keep doing this. I want to stop, but I can't. I-I-I...like it and...it makes me feel better...makes me feel good...really good..."

Kevin patted his shoulder. "Need not an explanation, I understand completely." He looked at his watch, his head beginning to hurt again. "We'd better go to sleep."

Nick nodded and got up to go to his bed. After switching off the light and jumping into bed, he began to whimper again, as softly as he could.

"Nick, why are you still crying?" he heard Kevin ask him in a soft tone.

Nick sat up in the darkness. "Can I s-s-sleep in y-y-your b-b-bed?"

"All right, but just this once."

Nick jumped out of his bed and dived in next to Kevin. He shifted a little to get more comfortable, but he still didn't feel safe. He still didn't feel secure. He wanted to ask Kevin for a favour, but he wasn't sure. What the hell, he'd just go ahead and ask.

"Kevin?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you...put your arms around me?"

Nick didn't hear him answer, he just felt Kevin's arms sliding around his waist underneath the blanket. He sighed and closed his eyes. Now he felt safe. Now he felt secure. Now he could sleep, and sleep the whole night.

"Just between us, okay?" Kevin whispered.

Nick smiled. "Okay," and drifted off to sleep.

~******~