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    jkwsquirrel
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Rehabilitation - 9. The Last Days

Tuesday was going by rather slowly it seemed to me. Brett had locked himself in his room since we got back from Pittsburgh on Monday evening, with the only sound of life being the rock music pulsating from his domain. Dr. Reilly spent most of the day working in her study. I tried to read a book in my room, but Brett’s music was too distracting. I closed the door to my room and headed to the front porch to sit for a while. But that was boring, so I took a walk in the park. It was nice to have a cast that allowed me to use my elbow again. I didn’t need to use a sling anymore either.

 

There was a ballgame going on, and I remembered when Dustin and I had played on his dad’s team for all those years. Of course, we were too old for the kids’ leagues now. Some younger kids had taken our place on the ball fields just like they’d taken our swings away a few years earlier. I wondered a lot about Dustin. It had been days now since the destruction of our friendship. I’d kept true to my word and not even attempted to come near him, but looming in the back of my mind was the up-coming volleyball pre-season. Miss Winston had named Dustin and me as managers for the girls’ team, and when August came we were going to have to see each other again. I wondered if he would still hate me by then. I had forgiven him for kicking my arm, and I just wanted to be friends again. But I wondered if things would ever be back to normal between us again.

 

I sat at my usual spot by the pond and thought about Brett. He really was trying to be a good kid. But his brain was so screwed up. Years of frustration with his ADHD and dyslexia had led to some angry tears over the last few months. He had tried to self-medicate his problems away with pot, but that was only going to lead to disaster if that had continued. I’d never seem him so out of sorts since I’d been staying with him. It felt like he had reached his breaking point. Now, almost too late, his mom was trying to get him some help. But I wondered if it would even work. I found myself wondering if Brett even wanted to get help. Brett saw therapy as a punishment. If he wasn’t on board with it, well, it was never going to help him. He felt like his mom was betraying him – and by extension I was betraying him too.

 

As I walked back to toward Brett’s house I passed the area of the park that most people didn’t talk about. The area around the restrooms was sort of the town’s dirty little secret. It was near there where Max had operated his drug business. But there was also a seedy underbelly which I’d only heard rumors about in whispers about what happened there at night. There were rumors of underage kids pawning themselves off to dirty old men for money which would then go to Max or whatever drug dealer had taken his place. It was amazing to me that I could literally walk from a cesspool of debauchery and drugs to my best friends’ houses within ten or fifteen minutes. Already, I could see the new drug dealer was setting up shop for the late evening hours. The park hadn’t been like this when my grandma used to bring me here!

 

I walked quickly toward Brett’s house and away from the park. Brett’s place wasn’t far from the park. I wondered how long it would be before the corruption of the park began to spread into Brett’s neighborhood. Already, every house had a security system sign in the yard, and there were more fences now than there had been last year. I wondered how long it would be before the ‘for sale’ signs would begin to pop up as those who could afford to live in even better neighborhoods began to leave. But for now, it was still a different world in Brett’s neighborhood.

 

I sat on the porch for a while, enjoying the warm summer air. There were still a few hours left before the sun would go down even though it was late in the afternoon. The weather could not have been more beautiful. Dr. Reilly found me on the porch and told me that she was needed at work for an emergency and that she had to leave. She said that she had left money for pizza for Brett and me and that we shouldn’t wait up for her. Soon after she left that Brett emerged from his room, looking quite honestly like he’d been run over by a bus. His hair was a mess, his clothes were the same ones he’d been wearing when he barricaded himself in his room the day before. They were wrinkled and dirty and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He smelled funky, and his chin and jawline had begun to get scruffy.

 

“Is the bitch gone?” he asked, his voice raw and scratchy.

 

“Yeah,” I replied. “You look like hell,” I informed him.

 

“I know,” Brett replied. He opened the refrigerator and looked through it. He found a slice of bologna and stuffed it in his mouth. Then he snatched the money his mom had left for pizza and counted it.

 

“Sixty bucks? Sweet,” he said.

 

“Did you even go to sleep last night?” I asked.

 

“Sleep? What’s that? I haven’t slept since the other night when I fell asleep with you,” Brett replied. “I just fucking lay there and my brain won’t turn off. Maybe you should suck my dick again.”

 

“Holy crap, Brett! Have you told your mom?”

 

“Have I told my mom that you sucked my dick?”

 

“You know what I mean! Have you told her that you’re having trouble sleeping?”

 

“Fuck her!” Brett said. “She’d just use it as another reason to send me to stupid therapy! She’s a bitch.” He handed me a twenty dollar bill. “Since I let you fuck me, will you do me a huge favor?”

 

“I’d do you a favor even if we hadn’t done that!” I said.

 

“Well then, will you go down to the store and get me some Mountain Dew?” he asked.

 

“Won’t that make you even worse?” I asked.

 

“It’ll actually help me sleep, believe it or not. Caffeine makes me sleepy. I just want to sleep. Will you go get it, please? I promise I’ll make it worth your time!”

 

“Do you want twenty dollars’ worth of pop?” I asked.

 

“What the fuck is pop? It’s soda,” Brett replied. “And no, of course not... Spend the rest on something for yourself. I’ll call to order some pizza after you get back.”

 

“Don’t you want to come with me? I think some fresh air will do you good,” I suggested.

 

“I just want to hang out here for a while by myself. No offense, but I just need a little time alone. I’m so fucking tired,” Brett replied. “I feel like crap.”

 

“Well, okay then,” I replied. “I should be back in about an hour.”

 

I walked into town. It was a quick trip to the bottom of the hill where most of the businesses in town were. After I made my purchases, I realized that I was going to have to walk back up the hill lugging four two-liter bottles of pop with one good hand. So I began the long trudge back up the hill to Brett’s house. It was quite a hike before I made it to Brett’s street again, and I’d been gone for well over an hour. The sun was beginning to set as I walked down the street to Brett’s house. When I walked into the house, I was exhausted. Brett was nowhere to be seen downstairs. I went to put the pop in the refrigerator, only to discover that there were already two half-full bottles of Mountain Dew in there. I fumed a little bit, but I guessed that Brett probably didn’t see that they were in there. I walked up the stairs and heard the distinct sounds of gay pornography coming from Brett’s room. I opened the door without knocking. Brett had his shirt off and his pants were bunched around his knees and he was casually jacking his dick watching two guys fucking on his computer.

 

“Need a hand?” I asked.

 

Brett was startled and he quickly pulled his pants up and turned off his porn.

 

“Oh, it’s just you! Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” he laughed.

 

“Just some revenge for the other night. You didn’t have to stop, you know,” I said. “It has been a few days since we… you know.”

 

“Since you fucked my ass?” Brett asked.

 

“Yeah. You don’t have to be so vulgar about it.”

 

“I’m sorry. How would you prefer to describe what you did to me?”

 

“How about; since we made love? Or, since we slept together?”

 

Brett laughed. “Oh, since you filled my eager love tunnel with your beefy love stick! Jesus, Billy! You’re so gay!”

 

“Shut up!” I laughed. “Oh, and by the way, you had pop in the refrigerator that your mom probably put there.”

 

“Did I?” Brett asked. “Fuck, dude! I’m sorry. Shit, I even looked in there before I sent you to the store! I just wasn’t thinking.”

 

“Yeah… Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “You don’t seem right.”

 

Brett stood up. He was wobbly and he put both his hands on my shoulders. “I’m just really tired,” Brett said. He put his hands on my cheeks. “You are so sweet for going to the store for me. What did you buy me?”

 

“Huh?” I asked.

 

“What did you buy me?” Brett laughed.

 

“Wait a minute… Are you high? Shit! You asshole! You went and bought weed while I was gone! Didn’t you?”

 

Brett suddenly got very serious. “No, I am not high,” he said. “I swear to God I did not go to the park while you were gone. I mean, yeah I thought about it, but then I didn’t leave the house. Look, here’s the money for the pizza. Take it if you don’t believe me.” He gave me the two twenties he’d taken earlier. “I’m just tired and horny. We should have sex again. I mean… Look at my dick…” He dropped his pants again and held his dick in his hands. “Look how hard I am. Every time I think about you I get hard. Remember how good it felt when you fucked me? Can you believe I let you do that to me? I mean, what the hell? You actually had your dick in my ass. You even came inside of me. That is so fuckin’ gay, dude. You came inside a guy! You are such a queer. Look how big my balls are now. They’re all full of spooge. I mean, my balls are, like, bigger than yours and you’re like, taller than me…”

 

“They’re cute,” I said flatly. Brett was stoned out of his mind on something. I didn’t know what he’d gotten into, but I was so pissed off at him. I was sure he was lying to me about buying more pot. “I can’t believe you…”

 

“Look, I know you don’t believe me but I’m telling you the truth. I never lie to you, Billy. If I went to the park for pot I would tell you. Okay?”

 

“Well something’s gotten into you. You’re acting really weird.”

 

“I’m sure it’s just the lack of sleep. I’m so tired, Billy. Maybe if you suck my dick I’ll be able to sleep. Or you could lick my nuts. Would you do that for me? Seriously. I let you fuck me. The least you can do is suck my balls.”

 

He gently pressed down on my shoulders and I reluctantly dropped to my knees. “Brett, I’m not going to suck your balls. I’m mad at…”

 

I didn’t get to finish as he steered my mouth to his balls. His dick whacked the side of my face. I gently licked his hairy nuts and did my best to suck one into my mouth without hurting him. He was going to be sorry if a hair got caught in my braces.

 

“Meh…” Brett sighed. “I’m sorry. This isn’t doing anything for me. You must be doing it wrong or something. Suck my dick instead. I love it when you suck my dick.”

 

He rearranged himself and guided his dick to my mouth. I licked him all around his dickhead, which I knew he loved. He moaned in ecstasy. I grabbed his ass and rocked his hips back and forth so that he was almost fucking my mouth. His hands tousled my hair and he laced his fingers through my blond locks. Even though I was still mad at him I couldn’t help but enjoy what I was doing. Come on, give me a break, I was a fifteen-year-old kid! Like I was going to turn down sex! I really did love Brett, even though I knew he was hiding something from me. He had a great dick.

 

“Yeah, you like sucking my big fat dick!” Brett exclaimed. “You want my big load, don’t you? You want to drain my big balls. You wanna make me cum in your mouth, don’t you?” He moaned. “Yeah… You’re gonna make me shoot.” He thrust himself hard into my mouth and groaned loudly. “Oh fuck! I’m coming!” I felt the hot slimy blast hit my throat. Brett held me in place until he had unloaded every last drop. There was a lot of it. “Fuck yeah. That feels so fucking good! I want my load inside you, Billy. Swallow it, don’t spit it out.” He released me and stumbled backward onto his chair, his pants still wrapped around his ankles.

 

I gulped down his spooge and choked a little. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Okay, that was weird,” I said.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know, it just was.”

 

“Didn’t you like it?”

 

“I… I liked sucking you, but...”

 

“You didn’t like how aggressive I was being, right?”

 

“Sort of, yeah…”

 

“Look, this is all new to both of us. I know I was a little aggressive, but remember, you bit me when you fucked me.”

 

“Oh yeah,” I replied. “I forgot about that.”

 

“Exactly. Look, we’re just feeling each other out. I think it’s good to test our boundaries. I didn’t complain when you bit me, did I?”

 

“No.”

 

“Yeah. I thought it was hot. I want you to let go of all that pent-up frustration inside of you and let yourself be free and open with me. This is the biggest relationship either of us has ever been in. I want us to be real with each other. Don’t you want that too?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

Brett laughed. “Jesus, I’d have thought after you fucked me you would have loosened up a bit. I didn’t think it was possible, but you may just be even more of a prude now than you were before!”

 

“I guess it’s hard for me to be real with you if you’re going to lie to me about stuff.”

 

“Jesus, Billy! For the last time, I did not buy pot while you were gone! I swear to God I am not high.” He grabbed my hand and pulled it toward his chest. “I love you, Billy. Feel my heart beating. Look into my eyes. I swear to Jesus, I did not buy pot.”

 

“Okay, I believe you. But you better never lie to me about it ever again.”

 

“I won’t. I swear to you, I won’t smoke pot again.”

 

“You promise?”

 

“Yeah. Look, to prove it, I’ll let you fuck me again.”

 

“I don’t see how that will prove anything,” I said.

 

“Well why don’t you fuck me anyway?” he asked. “Maybe if you get laid you won’t be so crabby.”

 

He pulled himself out of his chair and shucked his pants, then fell naked on his belly onto his bed. Well, I wasn’t going to turn down an opportunity to have sex, so I stripped off my pants and shirt and hopped on top of him. I slapped my dick heavily onto his ass a few times and grabbed some lube off of Brett’s desk.

 

“You ready for this, Brett?”

 

He didn’t respond. He just laid there.

 

“Brett?” I shook him, but it was no use. He was sound asleep.

 

“Well shit…” I sighed.

 

I tucked him under his covers and reopened the porno he’d been watching and jerked off right-handed to the sights and sounds of two young guys in an outdoor scene while absent-mindedly running my tongue over my braces until I shot my load. Sex stuff without Brett was so boring now. When I finished, I left Brett in his bedroom to sleep and walked across the hall to my room. I was surprised that the door was open. I could have sworn I’d closed it earlier but I must not have.

 

Brett slept through the night and didn’t wake up until one o’clock the next afternoon. Dr. Reilly didn’t seem worried about him, in fact, I think she was enjoying the quiet. I did some reading and even looked through some of Brett’s baby picture books. Brett had been raised by his grandparents in those early years while his mom finished school. I wondered just how much of an impact their tragic and sudden death had had on Brett. I noticed certain features which he shared with them. They were definitely from Irish heritage. Brett already had his beautiful smile even as a baby, his blue eyes sparkled in every picture. I was amazed to see how long they let his hair grow in his early pictures. It didn’t look like he’d had a haircut until he was three, and his hair had grown into absolutely gorgeous curly locks that hung down almost to his shoulders. Even after they cut his hair they let to grow way longer than he’d allow today. He was super adorable! I especially enjoyed the picture of him buck naked in the bathtub, for laughs of course. Let’s just say he’d grown up a lot since then! It was kind of weird to think that the little boy in those pictures was the same person who grew up into the young man he was now. I didn’t have to look long to see the impact of his grandparents’ death as revealed in the captured images of Brett’s life. For one thing, there were a lot less pictures of him after they had died. Brett’s hair was almost always short and his Yankees ball cap became a permanent feature in all of his pictures. Also, Brett looked progressively unhappier as the he aged in the photos. Then, when he moved to Donora, I could begin to see him change and become more and more that boy who I’d fallen in love with. I began appearing in more and more of the pictures as well. The beautiful smile returned whenever I was in a picture with him. It was a fascinating journey.

 

Brett stumbled out of his room without a shirt wearing just some boxers. His face was even more scruffy and he needed to shave. His eyes were all bloodshot and bleary. He sat on the couch next to me and sighed.

 

“I have such a fucking headache!” he whined.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I lied. I didn’t know what he’d gotten into, but I couldn’t help but think that he deserved his headache.

 

“Is my mom home?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” I replied.

 

“Fuck.” he said. “I wanted to return the favor from earlier today. Sorry I fell asleep.”

 

“Brett, that was yesterday,” I informed him.

 

“You mean I slept for a whole day?” he asked.

 

“Pretty much, yeah,” I replied.

 

“Holy fuck! No wonder I look like shit.”

 

“Well, you smell like shit too,” I replied. “You need a shower.”

 

“Thanks, dick!” Brett laughed.

 

“I’ve got more bad news too. I’m going home tomorrow afternoon.”

 

“Really? Aw man, that sucks!”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

Brett sighed. “I really liked having you here. I know I’ve been a dick the last few days and I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay. I know you’ve had it pretty rough. I’m kind of glad you slept all day. I think you needed it, even though it’s been boring without you.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Brett said. “I really wanted this time to be special for us and I ruined it.”

 

“Well, we did have sex. I’d say that makes this week pretty special!”

 

“Well yeah… There was that.”

 

As we were about to kiss, Brett’s mom walked into the living room. We quickly ended our attempted romantic moment. Dr. Reilly mentioned that Brett looked like a hooligan, which Brett actually admitted himself without being snarky with her. That was how Brett was. He could be so mad at somebody and then it was over and like nothing had ever happened. He even thanked her for the pizza money, even though he never actually had any pizza because I’d ordered it and ate it all without him!

 

Soon enough, Wednesday turned to Thursday and it was time for me to go home. My mom arrived to take me home. She talked with Dr. Reilly downstairs while Brett helped me pack up my stuff, since I was still in a cast and all. Even though I was a lot more mobile since I’d received my new cast, I appreciated the help. I could do just about anything but bend my wrist and fingers, but I was becoming much more adept at using my right hand.

 

“Did you even take any of these?” Brett asked as he held my bottle of pain pills.

 

“Nope. Not even after Dus… err… doing so much stuff around here.”

 

“You want me to get rid of them for you?” he asked.

 

“I better keep them just in case I need them,” I replied.

 

“Oh… Okay. Just be careful with them. They look really strong.”

 

“Yeah. Just throw them in the suitcase.”

 

“Sure thing. Hey, I really am sorry about what a dick I’ve been lately,” Brett said as he packed up my shirts and then sat on the bed.

 

“I’ve told you it’s okay,” I replied.

 

“No it isn’t. I’ve had a lot on my mind the last few days. I know I’ve blamed the weed, but it’s really a lot more than that. So much stupid shit has been spinning in my head lately. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I shouldn’t have been such an asshole to Dustin.”

 

“I’m glad you see that,” I said. “But he acted like a jerk too.”

 

“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” Brett replied. “I can’t stop thinking about all the crap I said to him. I made fun of him for being abused by his parents, Billy. What kind of dick does that? I’ve really been thinking about that. I wish I’d never said that to him. I do shit like that all the time and I need to stop it. I don’t want to be a dick anymore. You know what I mean? I’ve been blaming all this other shit in my life, my mom, my father, my brain, even you. I’ve blamed everyone but myself for all my problems. I can understand why you punched that mirror in the hospital now. I don’t really like who I see in there right now.”

 

I sat on the bed next to him and he rested his head on my chest. I lightly stroked his hair and tried to think of something meaningful to say. “It’s okay,” was what I managed to say.

 

“No it’s not,” Brett said, quickly shooting down my pleasantry. “Don’t patronize me with phony psychological bullshit, either. I’ve heard it all before. I’ve been questioning everything in my life. Everything I thought I knew about myself seems like it’s blown up lately, and I’ve got to quit acting like a spoiled little brat and start acting like a man. Just because my father was a jerk doesn’t that mean I have to be one too. My mom is never around. Should I make her life even more miserable when she’s around? I was afraid of what Dustin could do to me if he got mad enough, so I nuked him and told him I’m glad his dad abuses him. And I’m not glad about that, I really feel sorry for him! I’m ashamed of myself for letting my temper get away from me like that. I feel like such a monster. I hate the person I’ve become.”

 

“Well, I guess maybe it’s a good thing your mom wants you to get therapy.”

 

Brett rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s a good thing that she wants some jerk to drug me.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“Yeah I do. I know how these doctors are. My mom is one of them. They don’t talk about things. They just put you on drugs. I’m going to walk in there, the doctor is going to say I have oppositional defiant disorder and ADHD, like I don’t already know what my problems are. I’m not stupid. Then he’s going to prescribe some stupid pill that’s supposed to fix it all. They’re going to turn me into a freak! I don’t want to be on Ritalin. I’m scared, Billy.”

 

“You don’t have to be afraid.” I replied. “You can do anything. You can get through this.”

 

Brett sighed. Then he laid on his belly on the bed and watched me as I finished packing. “Having you here has really been great. I’m going to miss having you around all the time. I know I’m not easy to live with. My poor mom has to deal with my shit all the time. I’m sorry I’m such a fucking loser. I don’t know what you see in me.”

 

I sat on the bed next to him. “I see a boy who wants to be a better man.”

 

“Yeah, but I’m scared of what it’ll take to be a man who’s worthy of your love.”

 

“Everybody’s afraid of something. You’re afraid of being turned into something that you’re not. I’m afraid of being exposed as something that I am… Shit, now I’m starting to sound like you.”

 

We both laughed. Brett sat up on the bed next to me and smiled. “I love you, Billy. You’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had.” He kissed me on the cheek.

 

“Well there’s not a lot of competition, is there?” I joked.

 

“Can’t you even take a complement without getting snarky?” he laughed.

 

I got up from the bed and looked around the room for anything I’d forgotten to pack. “Nope. It’s a curse. The sarcastic asshole in me can’t help himself. Do you know how much I love you?”

 

“Yep,” he replied. “You love me so much you fucked me in the ass! But I still love you more because I let you cum inside me.”

 

“So we won’t be even until you fuck me then?” I asked.

 

“Not even close,” Brett laughed. “You’ll like it though. I’ve got a really great dick. Well, you’ve seen it. It’s really nice! Once you get over your issues and let me do it to you you’ll want to do it all the time.”

 

“Won’t my ass get sore after a while though?” I asked.

 

“I could live with that,” Brett replied.

 

And so my time at the Reilly’s ended with Brett lugging my stuff out to the car. At the door, I hugged Dr. Reilly. If our moms hadn’t been there, I’d have kissed Brett, but that would have caused some serious questions to be asked. So instead I awkwardly offered my hand for Brett to shake. He took it, but then he pulled me in close to him and he hugged me. “I love you, dude,” he said loud enough for both our moms to hear.

 

“I love you too, bro,” I replied. I’ve got to admit, even though we were saying it in a ‘tough guy’ kind of way, it felt really good to say it out loud in the presence of the very people I was afraid of finding out about us.

 

Then mom and I walked to the car. Brett and Dr. Reilly stood on the porch and waved as we drove away, and I watched the house disappear around the corner. I already missed Brett.

 

“So, did you have a good time?” mom asked.

 

I thought about all the fun I’d had during my time with Jen and Brett. I hadn’t just made love to Brett, I’d also had the chance to get to know him and his mom on a different level. I’d seen each of them in new ways which you can only get when the guards are completely down. I’d seen them love each other. I’d seen them angry with each other. I felt like a part of their family in a deeper way than ever before. I felt like I’d grown a lot in my time there. I’d arrived a boy, broken in body and spirit. But now I felt like I was whole and forgiven. I felt like I’d gone to their house a boy and that I was leaving as a man.

 

“Eh, it was okay... I guess,” I answered.

 

 

Hey yo! Hopefully everything looks okay! I've got to say how thankful I am for the work of the team who have been working on the update. Once everything is updated I'm sure it'll be great!

Next time - How We Spent Our Summer Vacation
Copyright © 2017 jkwsquirrel; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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It's good that Brett is admitting he has problems, but I don't know what he can really do about it.  He could always just not take the pills, but it's sad that most doctors take the easy way out and just give pills for everything.  And I don't even think the pills would help.

 

At first I thought Brett got drunk instead, but his reaction at the end confirms he's been taking Billy's pain pills.  Maybe it would have been safer to let him have his pot after all.  I'm worried about this now.  Funny how Brett doesn't want to be put on drugs but insists on using drugs to self-medicate.

 

And seriously, Billy, stay the fuck away from Dustin.  Just want to be friends again? He's a violent bully, didn't you see that by now?  Is Billy waiting for Dustin to put him in a coma before realising that he's dangerous? If I were him I'd just try to back out of the volleyball thing, it's not worth the risk.  The guy hates you, just forget about him and move on. (sorry, I still can't forgive the little shit)

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Psychiatrists prescribe drugs. They listen to what you tell them about your problems and try to figure out what medications might help with your symptoms. There are no magic pills that always fix those symptoms. Dosages need to be adjusted and sometimes different meds attempted. Drugs are not always the solution, but rejecting all of them without trying them doesn’t make sense either. Doctors know what side effects are possible and they attempt to balance the benefits against the potential negative effects.

 

Psychologists, on the other hand, cannot prescribe meds at all. Their job is to listen to you and possibly suggest strategies on dealing with your problems. They might offer alternative ways of looking at things. They can help you understand yourself and your issues better. Just talking about your problems can help, but talking to a trained professional is much more useful since they’ve spent years learning what actually works.

 

 

Re: Dustin. From his perspective Brett is the psycho. They’ve all shown their worst sides to each other. If Dustin didn’t care so much about Billy, he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly to the betrayals.

 

 

Brett went out of his way to specify that he hadn’t purchased weed in the park. Then he made it very clear that he hadn’t smoked any. TV has taught us that anytime someone is pointedly so very specific, they’re probably concealing something.

 

Brett obviously was under the influence of something and all the evidence points to Billy’s pain pills (wanting Billy out of the house, Billy’s door being open, offering to ‘get rid of the pills’ for Billy. etc).

8 hours ago, droughtquake said:

Psychiatrists prescribe drugs. They listen to what you tell them about your problems and try to figure out what medications might help with your symptoms. There are no magic pills that always fix those symptoms. Dosages need to be adjusted and sometimes different meds attempted. Drugs are not always the solution, but rejecting all of them without trying them doesn’t make sense either. Doctors know what side effects are possible and they attempt to balance the benefits against the potential negative effects.

 

Psychologists, on the other hand, cannot prescribe meds at all. Their job is to listen to you and possibly suggest strategies on dealing with your problems. They might offer alternative ways of looking at things. They can help you understand yourself and your issues better. Just talking about your problems can help, but talking to a trained professional is much more useful since they’ve spent years learning what actually works.

 

 

Re: Dustin. From his perspective Brett is the psycho. They’ve all shown their worst sides to each other. If Dustin didn’t care so much about Billy, he wouldn’t have reacted so strongly to the betrayals.

 

 

Brett went out of his way to specify that he hadn’t purchased weed in the park. Then he made it very clear that he hadn’t smoked any. TV has taught us that anytime someone is pointedly so very specific, they’re probably concealing something.

 

Brett obviously was under the influence of something and all the evidence points to Billy’s pain pills (wanting Billy out of the house, Billy’s door being open, offering to ‘get rid of the pills’ for Billy. etc).

Then the question is, is she sending Brett to a psychiatrist or a psychologist?  A psychologist is what he needs, but will Jen agree?

 

Dustin: they're both psychos in their own way, but what I can't get past is that it's like he thinks the betrayal is Billy being gay, not Billy choosing Brett over him.  His reaction felt very homophobic to me, and that's why I think Billy should stay away from him.

 

Brett had the same reaction to Billy taking the pills with him than to him flushing down his pot, so that's a big clue.

  • Like 2

I just see a load of trouble for Brett now Billy has moved back home. Brett is not acting normal and who knows what he's doing or will do. Billy is no saint either, okay he's got teenage sex drive, but he would have been real happy to fuck Brett again, if Brett hadn't fallen asleep. He can ignore what's going on with Brett if sex is being offered, he has a selfishness just like Brett does. In fact all three of them do, Billy, Brett, and Dustin are pretty selfish and definitely immature, but then they are fifteen. 

  • Like 4
1 hour ago, Shadow086 said:

Then the question is, is she sending Brett to a psychiatrist or a psychologist?  A psychologist is what he needs, but will Jen agree?

Actually, I think he needs to see both, just like I see both. They have different functions. Just talking won’t solve his problems. Brett needs medication. The fact that he felt he was better able to cope when he was smoking pot confirms that.

 

But Brett acts like many bipolar people I’ve known – they like the manic phase and don’t want to take medications that will moderate the mood swings. Brett doesn’t want to be calmed down. He thinks he will be tranquilized into lethargy. Some medications will do that, but doctors only prescribe those meds when the benefits outweigh the side effects. Good psychiatrists monitor their patients to avoid those sorts of problems. When I had side effects that bothered me, my psychiatrist changed my meds. Brett is old enough that his psychiatrist should pay attention to what he wants and only inform Jen of his progress rather than consulting with her on his medication the way a doctor would do with someone incapable of making their own decisions.

Its maybe a good thing that Brett is finally admitting his faults, or maybe its him just saying what he thinks Billy wants to hear. Brett is hardly one to be trusted, and Billy has his fucking blinders on 24/7. Its so frustrating that Billy justifies everything bad Brett does. He didn't leave there a man, he left there more of an idiot. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out Brett took Billy's pain pills. I had that figured out right away. I'm still standing by Dustin. He's not a bully, he's not dangerous, and I don't think he's homophobic. He's simply a person who was hurt  over and over by his so-called best friend and then abruptly dumped for no reason except selfishness. I don't condone him getting physical with Billy, but I seriously think that was the only way he thought he could make Billy hurt as much as he was. I think its pretty ironic that Brett is so worried about what pills he would be put on, but has no problem taking drugs otherwise.

  • Like 3
Quote

 

Great comments!  Thanks guys!

 

So a few thoughts on your thoughts:

 

Keep in mind Brett's feelings on psychiatry.  Brett is the son of a psychiatrist, one who wrote a best-selling book on the subject.  He's seen his mom's career do nothing but take her away from him.  He's seen her be pulled from his life by whatever their problems are.  He sees her clients as losers.  But he's not like them.  He's better than them.  He doesn't need psychiatry like those weaklings.  He is the son - superior to the freaks who steal his mother from him.  That's not Brett being a brat or a jerk, that's Brett being the 15-year-old son of a psychiatrist.  But to be told that he needs therapy by his own mom?  That's not just insulting to him, it is threatening his very identity.  Brett is also familiar enough with the ins and outs of psychiatry to know that psychiatrists prescribe drugs.  Brett has little respect for therapy, as revealed in his conversation with his mom in the last chapter.  However, I think all of my characters could use some therapy.

 

     Did Brett steal Billy's pain medicine?  Perhaps.  We haven't heard the last of it, that's for sure.

 

     We'll learn a great deal about Dustin very soon, something that may help explain why he's been acting as he's been.

  • Like 3
7 hours ago, JayT said:

What Brett needs is good old-fashioned butt-whooping. Nothing overly dramatic. Just enough to show him, you eff up, you pay the price....and no, you weren't beat. But we've been told that disciplining our children is wrong and that we should allow them to act like little shits.

Amen to that. If they lived down here in the south there would be a hickory switch on his butt so quick. That or taken behind the wood shed. I can testify that will correct his behavior. But his mom would never do that. Shed probably go on and on about leaving psychological bruises or some mumbo jumbo crap.

  • Like 1

Brett needs a psychologist, at the very least.  He needs to vent and find better ways to deal with his issues than lashing out at others the way he's been doing.  Maybe I'm wrong, but Brett looks like the type to keep his feelings inside until they explode.  Sure, he gets angry all the time but he never addresses the real reasons for his anger.  Again, I think a big part of this is he feels his mother treats him like one of her patients, not her son. 

 

Billy never took the pills, he's bound to notice some of them are missing.

 

So I guess Dustin's back for Round 3?  Things are probably falling apart for him at home and with Mike, but he's showing violent tendencies (from abuse by his family) that make me believe Billy getting involved with him is a bad idea.  I understand why he's acting like this, but it still doesn't mean Billy should let him back into his life so easily.

  • Like 2

I totally agree with everyone who thinks Brett took some of Billy's pain meds. He specifically said he didn't buy or smoke any weed, not that he didn't take anything. Billy's door being open and the emphasis on the pain meds when he was packing, were dead giveaways.

 

I must say though, the pain meds might have helped Brett see what a little shit he was being. :lol: I'm really glad he's owning up to his issues and his regrets. I wonder if that could be put to good use though...like apologizing to Dustin for one thing.

  • Like 1
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