"No..." Joe was arguing with Peyton, again. "Peyton - "

"No that's not fair!"

"What do you mean?"

"You have four more months here!"

"Yeah, and you have a week." He felt like everything he was saying was going in one ear and out the other.

"No, I can't go four months without you!"

"You can come visit me every month."

"Your parents and family will want to do that! Only one visitor per month! I can't - "

"Peyton, It'll be alright."

"No." She put her head down. "It won't."

Peyton stood with Joe and Janice, the ultra-annoying secretary, who was showing off her new lime-green talons. Peyton shook her head. "I can't do this, Joe. I have to tell them"

"But Peyton, you could be out of here in a week!"

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "And you'd still be here."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to let me stay."

"I won't let that happen, Peyton."

"I will."

Joe was killing himself inside. Peyton was due to leave this godforsaken hellhole in a week. Because they didn't know about her downer addiction. However, Joe's little stunt gave him another month onto his recovery time. The average alcoholics time frame for minimal recovery. No matter how much Joe told everyone he wasn't an alcoholic, they suspected he was.

"Peyton, I won't."

"I can admit it right now"

"Admit what?" The secretary squeezed in. Joe 'kindly' pushed her away. She huffed and walked back to her little office.

"No, you can't. Wanna know why? Because you gave ME that stupid little alarm clock, and I have it in MY room. If you tell them that they're yours, then I'll just say they're mine"

"They'll make us both have a drug test, and It'll be proven that their mine."

"I'll take some."

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, for you Peyton, I would"

Her heart jumped up like it was on cocaine. She melted under him, as she wrapped her arms around his torso, letting him pull her in, squeezing all the juices out of her.

"Joe. Can't you just like, prove you're ready?"

"The only way to do that is if my parents think I'm better."

She yanked away from him, and raised her head, staring him dead-on. "That shouldn't be hard."

"Well, one, they think I'm an alcoholic, and two, they come once a month."

"You can check in a weekend."

"What?"

"You get something like 3 weekends to use however you want. You can go home."

"Really?"

The jumpiness in his voice made her heart swell. To know that he really was going to do something for her. Another 4 months in rehab wouldn't hurt him. But it would hurt her.

-----

Joe blinked into the sun. The first non-artificial light he had seen in ages. He smiled, as he thought of being free... forever. With Peyton. She lived a good two hours away, but it was better than nothing. He looked out over at his parents car, which was pulling up to the front of Sun Valley Hospital. After the initial shock of seeing his brothers, with Nick having grown half an inch, and Frankie getting a haircut, and Kevin letting his hair go curly, Joe started to calm down. His mom and dad were insanely thrilled that he was doing so much better. He was wearing the clothes that he wore his first day, but they were cleaned and ironed. He had his hair brushed and washed. He was even smiling. Smiling. This was reason to celebrate.

-----

"So, Joe. How do you feel?"

"Great, mom. Just great."

"Yeah? So how do you feel about - "

"Callie?"

The six person table at Applebee's quieted instantly. Only the clink of Frankie's fork as he stabbed at his plate was heard. Joe chewed intently on his bread as he looked around at his family. Denise nodded slowly.

"Fine. I think I've moved on."

"Really?" Mr. Jonas said, interested. Only a month or so prior, his son was sobbing in his room because he was absolutely destroyed.

"Yes. I've met Peyton."

"Peyton?"

"Right-o."

"What was, ah, Peyton in for?"

"Bipolar."

"Ah"

He heard the sigh in his fathers voice. He dared not say anything about her downers. He might not approve. No, 'might' was an understatement. Bipolar was something Peyton could control. Drugs wasn't.

"She gets out in a week."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And actually, I was hoping to talk to you about that."

"... yes?"

"Well, as you can see, I'm doing much better - "

"- No, Joe."

"Why not?" He threw his hands up in the air.

"You have four months. We can't take you out four months from your release date."

"But mom, I'm fine!"

"You were drinking, and god knows what else."

Joe was sick of this. He was not an alcoholic. He just wasn't.

"I'm not an alcoholic!"

Several people from other tables looked over. Paul interrupted his wife, lowering his voice, hoping that it would encourage Joe to lower his. "We don't know that"

"I admitted having sex with my dead girlfriend!"

An obese woman sitting behind Joe spit her soda all over her husband.

"Joe! Calm down." Denise tried saying, reaching her hand out to comfort Joe.

"You have put me in rehab for almost 6 months. I'm better in two. I haven't gone through any withdrawals, and I haven't had anything to drink. Does that sound like an alcoholic?"

"Joe, you never know."

Kevin butted in, trying to keep his parents from breaking down in the middle of a restaurant.

"Kevin, shut the fuck up. You did your part."

"Joe - don't."

"What?" Denise said, her voice cracking, and her throat drying up.

"Kevin over here-"

"JOE!"

" -he was the one that drove me home this one time - "

"-Joe, if you say one more word-"

"-and I was completely hammered, and I said-"

"-I swear I'll rip out your-"

"-Kevin, are you going to tell mom?-"

"-your-"

"-and he said very clearly 'No, Joe'-"

"-I'll..."

"-'I won't tell mom. You just wanted to have some fun. I've had some of those myself'-"

Kevin had his face in his hands, and was wincing away from his parents, who averted their eyes to him.

Mr. Jonas stuttered out "A-are you sure? Kevin, did you say that?"

"He was so... so drunk, I thought"

"That he wouldn't remember?" Joe said in third person. He stood from the table, pushing Frankie and Nick off the booth, and exiting the restaurant. After walking down the street for a minute, he heard small pattering of feet running at him. He whipped around, ready to yell at whoever it was. But there was Frankie, tears in his eyes, looking up at Joe.

"Are you leaving again, Joe?"

He sighed. "Frankie - "

"Don't leave, Joe."

"I have four more months."

"But Joey -"

"Go complain to mom and dad."

"Joey, don't leave me. I miss you-" Frankie said, starting to cry, he reached out to grab Joe's hand, but Joe shook him off, and turned on his heel, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, and looking at the ground, muffling out Frankie's cries with his thoughts.

-----

Joey... Joey don't leave me. I miss you, Joey. Don't leave me, Joey. Joey? Joe? JOE? JOE!

"WHAT, MOM?" Joe yelled, waking up from his nightmare. Denise was shaking his shoulder, and she had very clear tear-stain marks running down her face. It was only 11:36 P.M. He guessed that they finished dinner and came home. Joe had taken the bus. Denise retracted her hand from Joe, and took a step back. Joe rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking up and around.

"No, mom. I'm sorry. What do you need?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"I know."

"I thought you might... want to wake up."

"Thanks."

"Sure dear."

"So, how did you know I was having a nightmare? Was I screaming?"

"No... I was watching you."

Joe's stomach instantly spilt over with guilt. He reached out and gripped his mothers' hand, falling back into bed. Denise sat on the edge of his bed, looking at him, trying not to cry. Joe closed his eyes slowly, whispering to her. "I promise to you, mom, I'm not an alcoholic."

"Alright, Joe."

Joe felt the anger replace the guilt. She was just saying that because she was tired of fighting with him. He wasn't. HE WASN'T.

"Mom. I hate it there."

"I know."

"I want to leave it."

"You're not better yet"

"Yes I fucking AM!" He shouted.

"Do you see?"

"What?"

"You're still in denial."

"I got over denial the second I stepped into the place."

"Joey, I don't want to do this again."

"What?"

"I don't want to doubt myself, take you out, then have to go through this again."

"Mom, just... just trust me."

"If only I could do that again."

Joe groaned as his mother dropped his hand, and patted it lightly, walking away from her son. Joe spoke out, so quietly "Mommy. Just once. That's all I ask. I swear, I'm not -"

But his mother walked away from him. Joe looked over at his bedside table, and gripped his iphone. Peyton decided to take the weekend off with her parents too, and they exchanged numbers. He quickly texted her.

"Tell them."

-----

The End (:

I know it's short, but who knows, maybe there will be a sequel.