A/N: This is a different kind of chapter, and I've never written anything in this style before, so we'll just have to see how it turns out. Italicized means that it's Mick's writings in his journal basically. In between his journal entries will be different experiences that relate to the writings either before or after it.

Warnings: This chapter will include talk about and treatment of mental illness. I'm trying to portray how it would have been in the early 90s, but it's hard to find any information, so if it's inaccurate, that's my bad. Also, there will probably be one or two uses of the word 'retard'. I absolutely hate that word, but it's something that was probably said by teenagers 25 years ago, so...yeah, be prepared for that.

I thought that juvie had been bad, but somehow this place is even worse. I haven't even been here a full day and I already hate it.

"Rory, come on, it's lights out now." The guard said...well, he wasn't technically a guard, but that was what Mick called him because his job seemed to be a mix between a juvie guard and a nurse that hovered around all the time. Whatever he was, Mick already didn't like him. Still, he did as he was told.

"Sure thing, boss." Mick said, his voice full of sarcasm. Mick closed up the notebook that they had given him (he absolutely refused to call it a diary or even a journal) and tucked it under his pillow. The guard nodded and moved on to convince one of Mick's roommates that yes, it was time for bed, and no, they couldn't leave the lights on. It took almost five minutes to convince the kid to agree to sleep with the light off like a normal person, and the way that the 'negotiation' happened told Mick that this was a nightly thing...awesome.

Mick groaned and laid back on his bed, with his back towards everybody else as he tried block out all of the pointless noise going on behind him. He couldn't believe he was actually thinking it, but he wished he was back in juvie. At least he understood how things worked there. He knew where he stood. Here though...Mick barely even had an idea of what he was doing here or what would happen to him, and the uncertainty was unnerving.

Really, Mick should have known that today would be bad when he had been jerked awake by a juvie guard harshly pounding on his cell door, saying that he was being taken to see the warden. First off, waking up in solitary was never a good thing. Secondly, in Mick's experience being woken up was just about the worst way to start the day off. Even if he was just woken up a few minutes before he would have woken up naturally, it still basically ruined his morning and left him feeling pissed off and exhausted for the rest of the day. And thirdly, when was seeing the warden ever a good thing?

The thing was, it hadn't been the warden who had wanted to talk to Mick, it had been some random guy who had said he was a doctor. Mick hadn't known what the doctor guy had wanted with him, and he had no idea why the warden was allowing and/or supporting this. He hadn't heard of something like this happening before.

Mick didn't like the doctor. The doc seemed solely interested in asking him invasive questions about literally everything that Mick didn't want to think about. He asked about the incident in the mess hall. He asked Leo. He asked about Mick's relationship with the other inmates. He asked about Mick's relationship with his family. What living on his family's farm had been like. They talked about it all.

It didn't take too long for Mick to realize that he was talking to a shrink or something. Once he figured that out though he realized that something was bothering him about this. Psychiatrists and people like that were supposed to try to 'cure' people of mental problems, and almost everybody Mick had had any interactions with thought that he was mentally unstable because of his slightly unhealthy fondness of fire.

The thing was, while the doc seemed interested in Mick's obsession with fire, he was much more fascinated by Leo and Mick's thoughts about his family. The doc kept on asking questions on top of questions about his family and friend, and Mick hadn't exactly understood why.

The two had ended up talking for a few hours, and Mick quickly found the whole process to be extremely boring. Finally, finally, he was told that he was done. Except, nope, that was a lie. They didn't take Mick back to solitary or his cell. Instead they just made him wait in the hallway with a guard watching him like a hawk while the doc 'had a few words' with the warden...their 'little chat' lasted for another hour, and Mick was stuck waiting the entire time.

Needless to say, he did not have a very good start of the day, and things only got worse from their.

It turned out that the doc wasn't just any shrink, no, he was a shrink at a nut-house. After just a few hours worth of conversations the doc seemed to be sure that Mick would 'benefit' from receiving treatment at their facility. The warden of course had no objections. After all, juvies were crowded enough as they were. Any warden would probably jump at the chance to get rid of a mentally unstable kid or two. It would make things slightly less chaotic and crowded.

And that was how Mick had ended up at this dump with the other people that society had deemed unstable. The second that Mick had walked through the front doors he had been stripped of what little personal belongings he did have. Apparently one of the rules in this place was if he wanted his things back, he needed to cooperate with what these people wanted.

Mick didn't have all that many belongings that he could actually call his own, but he hated the clothes that they provided for him and longed for his real clothes. He wanted to at least get his vest back, so until then Mick supposed he could play their little game...for now.

Mick frowned and slid a hand under his pillow so he could make sure that his notebook was still there. Doc had given it to him a little while ago, said that tomorrow they were going to be starting some treatment and it may affect his memories a little bit, which Mick was a little (really) worried about. The doc had said that his memories probably won't all be affected, only the more recent ones, and he should be able to remember them again after a reminder, which was what the notebook was for.

Mick looked over his shoulder to double check that nobody was watching him before pulling his notebook out from under his pillow. He didn't want to risk having it be confiscated, but they had been the ones to give him the notebook in the first place, and he was damn well going to use it. Pencil in hand Mick scrawled out a last hurried sentence in his notebook.

Tomorrow my so called 'treatment begins', so if my brain ends up getting fried, that's why.

"This isn't going to hurt, is it?" Mick asked in what he asked was a casual voice, but on the inside he was feeling anything but casual. It almost literally felt like there was a pit of dread in his stomach. Mick liked to think that he was a pretty fearless guy. He didn't get nervous about the same things that most other kids were worried about. Right then though, Mick was feeling absolutely terrified.

"No, it won't." The doctor replied. He was a different doctor than Doctor Shrink. This guy was actually a true blue medical doctor...who made his living off of electrocuting people. The doctor was casually looking over some last minute things before they began his 'treatment'. "You won't feel a thing.

"I won't feel myself being electrocuted?" Mick dead-panned.

"You will be put under anesthesia." The doctor answered. "You won't feel yourself falling asleep, and by the time you wake up it will all be over." That is, until Mick's next treatment session that was scheduled for two days from now.

"What if something goes wrong and I don't end up waking up?" Mick asked. He thought it was a fair question. Electrocution was a method of execution, so obviously it had to be useful for killing people? What if they just had it set for too high a voltage or something?

"The chances of that happening are exceptionally low." The doctor said as he pushed a needle thing that was filled with...something into his arm. "But if it does, you won't even know it, will you?"

That wasn't a very reassuring thought. Still, for some crazy reason (maybe he really was insane) Mick didn't leave. The thought barely even crossed his mind. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go back to if he left this place. At least if he stayed here and the doctors did what they said they would he wouldn't have to deal with hallucination boys or flame filled nightmares.

For all Mick knew, this really would work, and if it didn't...well, it wasn't like he had anything to lose from trying.

"Hit me with your best shot." Mick muttered under his breath as he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He wasn't sure if the doctor heard him, and he didn't care because his words weren't really for the man's ears. "I'm not gonna let myself be beaten by a baby spark...or a fake teenager."

No matter how terrifying that baby spark was, or just how real Leo felt to him, Mick wasn't going to give in to them. He couldn't.

I think somebody told me that electroconvulsive therapy (which is a stupid name, by the way. Why is it that whenever scientists come up with a new idea they name it the stupidest and most confusing thing in the world?) wouldn't hurt at all. They might have been right, but they also could have been wrong. The thing is, I can barely remember what had happened, let alone if I had been in pain at the time. Even now as I'm writing this I still feel kinda mentally numb. Is it a side effect of the treatment, or is it just me?

I kinda feel like it's just me.

He woke up without even realizing that he had been asleep in the first place. It didn't really feel like waking up, more like he was just becoming aware. Like he was just realizing that he did actually exist. It was such a strange feeling, and it took a few moments for him to realize that somebody was talking to him.

"Mick, I need you to answer me." He blinked a few times and groaned when he realized that whoever was talking was addressing him. He guessed that meant he was Mick...wasn't that something he should have known?

"Wha'?" Mick asked groggily.

"How are you feeling?" The question sounded nice, but the person saying it sounded pretty annoyed. "Any chills? A fever?"

"No." Mick closed his eyes and frowned. "Sore." And his head was hurting...actually, not it wasn't hurting, it just felt kinda empty. Like, seriously empty. He still had thoughts and such, but they were all jumbled up and barely coherent. He felt like he had gotten into a fight or something, but he didn't remember doing anything like that...actually, he didn't really remember anything.

"Can' 'member." Mick muttered. He frowned and felt his breath catch in his throat. Why wouldn't he remember things? Who was talking to him? What was he doing here...and where was here."

"Calm down." The person spoke again. Mick opened his eyes and looked at the woman in front of him. He didn't know who she was (did he?) but she looked nice enough and didn't seem to be worried, and her calmness helped to calm him slightly. "Temporary memory loss is a regular side effect after the treatment you received."

Treatment? Memory loss?! What the heck had happened to him? The woman could probably see the discomfort on his face. Calmly she approached a table to the side and picked up a notebook. She handed it to him.

"Your psychiatrist said this should help you remember." She said. Mick frowned and opened the notebook. Not much was written in it, just a couple of sentences, but looking at the words Mick actually remembered writing it.

"It's mine." Mick mumbled to himself. "psychiatrist...Doctor Shrink." The events of the day before came back to him. He looked at the woman. "Why am I in a crazy house?"

The woman frowned. "This is not a crazy house. It's simply a place to treat people who are suffering from mental illness, like yourself."

Mick scowled. Mental illness? Was this woman saying he was retarded? Before he could even think to get angry at her for it the woman was straightening up. "I have some other patients to check on. Just sit here and recover for a bit and we'll get your back to your room later." She left without another word, leaving Mick to sort out his own thoughts.

Mick frowned and looked back at the notebook in his hands. The woman said that he had gone through some kind of treatment, and even though he had absolutely no memories of it he did remember what it was. Elec...electro...conversation? Converse? Impulsive? The right word just wasn't coming to him, so Mick just called it electroshock therapy, because that was what it was.

But why had he gotten it? Mick had heard of people getting the crazy shocked out of them, but he didn't really know if that was what it actually was or what people thought it was. Either way, it was some kind of treatment for mental illness or whatever, and he was getting the treatment...did that mean that he was sick? Insane?

He didn't feel like he was, but really he wasn't sure. Was he crazy and hadn't even realized it? Was there a way for him to be uncrazy so he could go back to his normal life?

Had his life ever been normal in the first place?

On the days that I don't have 'treatment' I have to talk to Doctor Shrink. I don't know which days mess with my head more. After I have a treatment I spend the rest of the day feeling like my brain has been emptied. I have a hard time remembering things and just wish I could have my memories back. On the days I talk to Doctor Shrink he makes me think about things that I would rather forget about. It's kinda funny that I either want to remember everything, or wish I could forget about it all. I think I remember one of my brothers (can't remember which one) saying that that sort of thing was called 'irony'.

I don't really care what it's called. Why can't my brain just stop screwing with me and let me feel okay about anything?

"Mick, we've talked a lot about Leo, but I want to try something new today. Why don't you tell me what your family was like?" Doctor Shrink asked Mick during one of their sessions.

Mick, who had been looking over at a dirty spot on the wall turned toward the man. "I've already told you about them."

"Only general things." The doctor said. "I want to hear about specifics. You said you had four brothers. What were they like? Did you get along with them? And what about your parents?"

Mick crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I get along with my mom okay. She was...well, a mom." Really, what more was there to say about it? She had been the nice, supportive and caring parent.

"And what about your father?" Doctor Shrink asked, which caused Mick to frown. He had thought that the doc would dig deeper for more about his mom, but nope, on to his dad.

"He's a bastard." Mick said, not even trying to sugar coat it. "Nothing I ever did was good enough for him...nothing any of us did was good enough."

"So he was hard on your mother and brothers as well?" Doc wrote something down. "What would cause him to become disappointed?"

"Everything." Mick shrugged. "Not even Dylan, who actually bothered to go to freakin' college, is safe from his judging looks."

"And Dylan is your older brother, correct?" Mick nodded to confirm Doc's question. "Was he the eldest?"

"No, Ethan's the oldest." Mick corrected him. "Dylan came after him."

"What was Ethan like?" Doctor Shrink leaned forward in his seat. Mick shrugged. He didn't really see the point of the question.

"He's bossy. Likes to pretend he's smarter than he really is." Feeling bored Mick tilted his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Ethan's the one who does best with crops, and he's obsessed with time because of it."

The doctor furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?" Mick shook his head. He had forgotten that he was talking to somebody who didn't understand farm life like he did.

"Plants need special care." Mick said. "Different plants grow at certain times. He seriously memorized which crops need to be planted when and exactly how long it would take. It got annoying when he started taking his obsession further than that."

"So Ethan came to take timing very seriously." The doc sounded intrigued by that. "What about Dylan?"

"I don't really know Dylan that well." Mick frowned. "He's always gone, either for school or a job or something, and even when he's around it's hard to connect with him."

"Did he seem detached from the world." Doc asked.

"Yeah right." Mick snickered. "He's so level-headed and organized, he just never tells me about anything."

"You sound bitter." Doc said.

Yeah, because he treats me like an idiot." Mick glared at the psychiatrist. "I may not be a college kid, but I'm not stupid, and I'm sick of him talking to me like I am."

"So you get the feeling that Dylan believes that he knows better than you do?" Doctor Shrink asked. Mick nodded. The man wrote something down in his notebook again.

"And you have another older brother, right?"

"Jamie." Mick nodded. "He takes care of the animals."

"How was your relationship with him?" The doctor asked.

"Okay, I guess." Mick frowned and thought back to his interactions with his older brother. "Sometimes it seems like he treats me the same as his animals."

"But was he treating you like an animal, or was he treating his animals like his brother?" Doctor Shrink asked.

"I don't know." Mick admitted. It was something that he had wondered about before, and it really bothered him. "We still get along though. We used to watch movies together all the time. He may not be as smart as Dylan, but Jamie is such a geek." Mick remembered watching Star Wars with him multiple times.

"And what about your last brother?" Doctor Shrink raised an eyebrow. "He was younger than you, right?"

"Yeah." Mick nodded. "Lionel was kinda a pain. He likes the sound of his own voice, and I swear he doesn't know how to not talk sarcastically. He's only two years younger than me but he's so small that he's kinda useless for hard farm work. Our older brothers used to try to pick on him all the time, but I always stopped them."

"Why though?" Mick had to pause at the doc's question.

"I don't know." He said slowly. "I just felt like I should, like I did with Le-" Mick stopped and reminded himself that he hadn't protected Leo, because Leo had never existed in the first place.

"I've actually been thinking quite a bit about this 'Leo'." Doctor Shrink said in his serious tone that told Mick that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "From what I've heard, it seems like some of the more distinguishable traits you gave him were ones that belonged to your brothers."

Mick opened his mouth to object, but realized that maybe there was some truth to the man's observation. "Why would I take the most annoying parts of my brothers and put them into one kid?"

Doctor Shrink closed his notebook and looked Mick in the eyes. "Mick, I believe this is simply your mind's way of coping with grief. You don't know how to deal with your family being gone, so you invented a way for them to remain with you."

Mick clenched his hands into fists. "I'm not grieving anything." He all but growled.

"You're still in denial of their deaths." Doctor Shrink said as though Mick hadn't said anything.

"No, I'm not." It had been months since the fire had burned down the house and killed his family. "I know that they're dead." How could he think otherwise when he was being reminded of it every five seconds.

"You may know it in your mind." Doctor Shrink admitted, though he didn't sound convinced. "But you haven't accepted it in your heart."

Oh, god. Why the hell were they talking about feelings all of a sudden. "I've accepted everything." Why wouldn't the doc believe him and just stop these sessions for good.

"Is that so?" Doctor Shrink raised and eyebrow in disbelief. "Mick, you've been talking about them in the present tense all day."

Mick froze. Had he really been doing that? How had he not even noticed? It had just come so naturally. While Mick sat and gathered his thoughts as he tried to remember if he really had been talking about his family as if they were still alive Doctor Shrink took down a few more notes and glanced at his watch.

"I'm afraid we're out of time for today." Doctor Shrink stood up. "We can discuss this more in a few days.

"Yeah, sure." Mick muttered. He forced himself to his feet and numbly exited the room. A guard who had been waiting just outside the door walked him back to his room. Usually Mick would get frustrated with the escort, but right then it barely even registered to him. He was too busy thinking about the similarities between a certain smirking teenager and a number of obnoxious brothers to even think about anything else.

Doctor Shrink told me to write down things that I feel would be important to remember. I'm not sure if this is what he was talking about, but I feel like this is important to put out. Future me, if there's one thing you need to remember it's this.

LEO IS NOT REAL!

He's just a figment of your imagination. I haven't actually seen him around for awhile, but I can't get him out of my head. I still can't believe my brain is so messed up that it made up somebody like him.

Doctor Shrink pointed out a few days ago that Leo's personality is like a jumbled up mix of all of my brothers. I kinda think he was right, but I kinda don't. Leo may have been bits and pieces of all of them, but he was definitely most like Lionel. Their names were even basically the same. I mean, Leo is just a smaller version of Lionel.

I don't really get why my brain made Leo so much like Lionel. He wasn't even the brother I got along most with, Jamie was. I just...felt the need to protect both of them. Yeah, just look at how well that ended up. I killed my own little brother and wasn't quick enough to save Leo's life...well, not Leo but the real Leo.

Now I'm just confusing myself. See, Leo had never been real, but there was a scrawny kid who got jumped his first day in Juvie. In my mind that kid had been Leo and I had saved him, but I didn't. I guess I wasn't fast enough to stop the kid with the shiv and Not-Leo got killed.

This is why I never got attached to animals the same way that Jamie did. Whenever I see somebody that is so much weaker than me I make fun of them for it, and then turn around and protect them because they obviously can't take care of themselves. The thing is, I kinda suck at protecting anybody. Just look at Lionel and Not-Leo.

Maybe the best way I can protect somebody is by staying away from them, because the thing that they need protection from the most is me.

Mick lay awake in his bed, thinking. It was the middle of the night and he would normally be fast asleep by now, except he had had a nightmare, and even though he hated to admit it he was really shaken up because of it. The nightmare had been the same one that had been playing on repeat for months now. There was confusion, darkness, anger, beauty, fire, and the occasional screaming. It had taken him a long time to figure out what the heck the dreams were even about. Now that he had though, he wished that he could just forget it.

He had lived through the real life nightmare that was probably the worst night of his life, and now he was forced to relive burning his family's house down every single night.

It was pretty much hell.

Some nights Mick was able to fall back asleep almost immediately. And then there were the nights, like this one, where he was too freaked out to even try. So he was stuck waiting for morning to come while his own dark thoughts and memories corrupted his mind and made being awake just as bad as being asleep and having that horrible dream. He needed something to distract himself.

A small whimper broke through the silence of the room, which completely surprised Mick. It wasn't so weird to hear a whimper or even the occasional scream. Lots of kids had nightmares in this place. The thing was, these didn't sound like the usual after nightmare sounds, it seemed more like somebody was wide awake and was upset, which was weird. It was late, and Mick had thought that everybody else was asleep.

Mick sat up and turned towards the quiet whimper. Mick frowned. It certainly looked like everybody else was asleep...except for the small curled up form on one of the beds. They were completely hidden under the covers and were trying way too hard to not be noticed. Mick shared a room with a bunch of kids, only the most unstable ones slept separated from everybody else, and even though it was too dark to see right Mick had a pretty good guess at who was awake.

"Hey, Kid, what's up with you?" Mick asked. The quiet whimpering turned into a short gasp of surprise.

"M-Mick?" The little boy who was much too young to even be in that place sounded so scared. The thing was, Mick had no idea if the kid was scared of him or of whatever was going through his head.

"Yeah, it's me, Kid." Mick swung his feet off of the bed. He didn't know for sure what the kid's name was. He thought it was something like Jacob or Jerry, something like that. He didn't know, he didn't care enough to know, so Mick just called him Kid. "What're you doing awake."

"I...nothing." Kid said much too defensively. He was really bad at keeping things secret. Mick couldn't help but think that this kid wouldn't last a second in a place like juvie. He marveled at the fact that the kid had been doing so well in this place. For as whiny and scared as the small eight year old was, Mick knew that Kid was tougher than he seemed to be. Still, there was only so much that one kid could take, and that's why he was in here in the first place.

"Were you thinkin' about it again?" Mick asked. Even through the darkness he could see Kid stiffen under his blanket.

"No." Kid said too quickly, which meant that, yes, he had been thinking about it. Mick sighed and got out of his bed. It wasn't like he was going to be getting to sleep any time soon anyways, so he thought he might as well do something with himself. Besides, things never turned out well when Kid began thinking like this, and Mick would really rather not wake up in the morning to find that the boy had tried to suffocate himself with his pillow...again.

"You're really not a good liar, kid." Mick walked over to the boy's bed and sat down on the edge. Kid lifted the blanket off of his head and looked at Mick.

"I wasn't going to do it." The kid muttered. "I was just...thinking about it."

"Yeah, sure." Mick quickly reached out and grabbed one of Kid's hands, stopping him from scratching at his scarred up wrists. Kid had the habit of scratching at his wrists when he began thinking like this. Mick didn't know whether it was because his scars itched or because he was trying to make them bleed again. Either way, Mick knew he shouldn't be doing it. The scars on his wrists were still fresh and sensitive from when Kid had tried to slice them up. That was what had gotten him sent in here in the first place.

The doctors were trying so hard to figure out why Kid was suicidal, he had plenty of friends, he wasn't being picked on, his family life was actually good, which was more than what could be said for anybody else in here. Basically, from what the doctors could tell, Kid had no reason to try to kill himself, but he had.

Personally Mick believed that they should focus less on why he had done it and put more effort into helping him overcome it. The only thing any of the doctors had done to try to 'help' Kid when his thoughts turned dark was to put him in an isolated room, away from anything he could use to hurt himself or anybody that could say anything that would trigger him.

This method didn't work so well. After just a few hours of being in that room the doctors had brought him out again. They had realized that Kid was actually much more calm when he was around other people. Kid didn't know how to handle being alone.

This was something that Mick really didn't understand. He hated being around people. It always felt like everybody was out to get him, either that or they ignored him like he was beneath them, like he was nothing. Mick would much rather be left alone than be around people that didn't understand him, and that he didn't understand.

The thing was, he couldn't do that tonight. Kid was upset and would likely do something if left to his own devices, and right now, as much as Mick hated it, he was the only one available to help him. As uncomfortable as he was about this, Mick wasn't just about to let Kid do something stupid.

So he sat next to him. Really, Mick didn't know what else to do. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how he looked at it, Kid took the matter of being comforted into his own hands. Little by little he moved closer to Mick until he was curled up against his shoulder. Mick grew tense at the contact, but Kid relaxed, and he figured that was what mattered.

Even if Mick despised every second of it.

Some time passed, but finally Kid fell asleep. The second Mick was sure the younger boy wasn't going to be waking up he awkwardly and somewhat gently moved the kid so he was lying down again. Mick got to his feet and retreated back to his own bed. He laid down, his arms crossed behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. One simple thought ran through his head, and it was one that had been bothering him a lot.

Why did he hate and mock some people for being weak, but feel the need to protect others because they couldn't protect themselves? Actually, a better question was, how exactly was he supposed to protect those that needed it? Lionel would have obviously been better off if he had never had anything to do with Mick. But Kid...Mick might have saved his life just by staying awake with him.

So what was the best way to protect somebody? By staying away, or by being there? Or would it be better if he just never got close to anybody? Honestly, Mick wasn't really sure. With how much this place was messing around with his head, Mick really wasn't sure about anything anymore.

I haven't seen Leo at all for a week. He hasn't spoken to me for even longer than that. I'm not really sure if that means something or not, but I hope it does...heh, I almost forgot what hope felt like. It's a weird and almost uncomfortable feeling, and I'm cautious about it. I remember how easily hope can be turned into disappointment.

Still, it's a nice feeling.

"Are you really going away?" Kid asked as he sat on Mick's bed and watched with a frown as he packed up what little belongings he had.

"'Fraid so, Kid." Mick adjusted his shirt, the one that actually belonged to him, and slipped on his red vest. It had been so long since he had worn his actual clothes, but they felt so good. Mick's vest especially smelled like a mix between dry hay and smoke...it smelled like home.

"Why do you have to leave?" Kid asked.

"Because it's too crowded here." Mick told him for the tenth time. "They gotta get rid of the kids who are better." Mick didn't really believe the crap that the doctors said about him being 'cured'. But he had finished his electro whatever therapy sessions, he didn't seem to be depressed (or, at least not as much as the others in this place) and he wasn't hallucinating dead kids who acted like his brothers. In the doctors' eyes, that meant he was cured, simple as that.

Or, at least he was cured enough to not be their problem anymore.

"Will you be heading back to juvie?" Some teenager from across the room asked. Mick glared at him slightly.

"No." He grunted. "They're puttin' me in a halfway home or somethin'." Which, as far as Mick could tell, would be like a cross between this place and juvie, except smaller and more cramped.

"Will you come back and visit?" Kid asked hopefully.

"Nope." Mick said bluntly. He had hated this place. They had fried his brain and pretended to understand that they knew him better than they knew himself. There was no way in hell he was ever coming back to this place. I'll write you, though." He didn't know what made him say it, but Kid looked so excited about the idea that now he had no choice.

How he had ever gotten this scrawny brat that was almost ten years younger than him to look up to him like he was a hero or something, Mick would never know.

"Mick, are you ready to go?" Doctor Shrink stuck his head into the room. The man had taken it upon himself to make sure that Mick got to his new 'home' safely and that there weren't any problems. He had also made it clear that the two of them would still be meeting with each other at least once a month, which Mick was seriously not looking forward to.

"Not really." Mick shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. One of his hands clenched around a small lighter. When Mick had first realized that they had given him back his old lighter he had immediately tried to light it up...it didn't work. They had messed with his lighter so it wouldn't even cause a little spark. Mick was still pissed off about this, but at least he had the lighter. Even if it didn't work, it felt nice to have his fingers wrapped around it.

In Mick's other pocket he kept his notebook. He had thought that it was the stupidest idea at first, but the notebook had kinda grown on him. Besides, he really didn't want anybody else getting their hands on this thing. Mick had written all of his personal thoughts in the pathetic book and the last thing he wanted was for somebody else to read them. He had had his brain dissected enough as it was.

Mick stiffened up awkwardly when Kid gave him one last hug, for 'luck' or something stupid like that. And, without looking back once, Mick followed Doctor Shrink out. He didn't really know what to expect where he was going, but he just hoped that it would be better than what he was leaving behind.

All Mick knew at this point is that he wasn't going to let himself down anymore. Never again would he just roll over submissively and take whatever shit life decided to throw at him. Because, really, so far life had been dealing him a pretty shitty hand. If Mick wanted life to get better, he had to make it happen himself.

He didn't know what was coming, but what he did know was he was going to take what he wanted from life, whether other people wanted him to or not. Honestly, everybody who thought that Mick deserved nothing could go screw themselves. This was his life, and he was going to do what he wanted with it.

The world had better watch out, because Mick Rory was out, and for better or worse he was going to take the world by storm...or fire...actually, probably by fire. That was much more his style.

A/N: So...this was different. Seriously, I think for half of this I just wrote whatever and just decided to go with it. Like I said, there's probably a lot of inaccuracies, but whatever. It's a fanfiction, and I did what research I could on things, so yeah, deal with it.

Also, while this isn't technically a song fic and wasn't exactly inspired by a song like some of my other stories are, there is a song that just kinda really reminded me of this story. In case you're interested, it's 'Here Comes a Thought' from the Steven Universe episode Mindful Education. For some reason, I just thought that the song really worked for the way that I was imagining Mick for this story. The cover art for this story is actually something I drew based off the idea. Just thought I'd let you know.