This was a therapeutic chain of events.

ELEVEN

My eyes fluttered open to once again the painful fluorescent lights of what I concluded to be the hospital ceiling. I was in hospital and the beeping noises around me where enough to give me bitch of a headache, I lifted my arm up and rubbed the side of my temple in order to make it go away. The feeling was beginning to reappear in my fingers and toes and my eyes were adjusting easier to the lights around me. I lifted my head slightly and to my shock horror, to the right of me was a face I hadn't seen in a little over 4 years.

"Am I in hell?" I croaked. His face looked up from his lap and I could see all of his features clearly now. He looked exactly the same since I last saw him, besides the slight stubble growing on his face and longer hair, everything else was the same, his big ass lips, pushed back hair, prominent jaw, big brown eyes, long face and that forehead I used to take the piss out of when I was younger. He wore a plain loose white tees shirt, black skinny jeans and a black leather jacket that decorated the back of the hospital chair.

"You're in the hospital Ronnie." He spoke softly reaching out to grab my hand.

"I know where I am moron." I snapped snatching my hand away before he could grab it. I ripped my eyes away from him, staring at the wall ahead of me shifting further up the bed so I wasn't craning my god damned neck so much.

"Ok." He mumbled, adjusting himself in his seat. I wanted to know why I was here, what I did, and for whatever reason, they couldn't have just left me to die and save me the misery of this inevitable conversation. After a moment of silence he spoke again. "Do you know why you're here Ronnie?" He said, I glanced over at him, anger present every time I saw his face.

"No, but I wish someone would just tell me why you're here." I spoke quickly, his face softened for a minute before he finally told me what I had done.

"You OD'd Ronnie, some kid brought you in after you collapsed on the floor of some party, you weren't breathing and it was only a matter of minutes before you could've been dead." Then it all came back to me, the party, the cocaine, the boy, the yellow tube of pills, passing out, everything. I thought about it for a second. I knew what I was doing, I wanted to die, disappointment flooded over me when I realised I wasn't, I remember it now, the conversation between my Dad and Brendon, I hoped to god he didn't agree to it.

"I knew what I was doing." I spoke clearly, not looking at him, but at the wall straight ahead.

"What do you mean, you knew what you were doing?" He asked, I could see him from the corner of my eye, he sat forwards in his seat and furrowed his eyebrows.

"I wanted to die." I said looking at him directly in the eyes, feeling nothing but emptiness.

"Ronnie why would you say that?" He spoke just above a whisper, he looked like he was in pain, and I was glad.

"Because it's true." I said bluntly looking forward again. There was 3 minutes and 13 seconds of silence that followed that, he didn't know what to say. And I didn't want to say anything to him, ever.

"Mom and Dad said you could come back to Los Angeles with me." He spoke, and there it was, they didn't want me, so they handed me over to the person I hate most in the world, the person who originally didn't want me.

"I hope to god they were joking." I scoffed, looking at him with fierce eyes.

"They said you're free to go, were gonna go back to the apartment and pack your stuff, were leaving tonight." He spoke calmly, smiling at me. Fuck off.

"You are joking right, I'm not going anywhere with you. I'd rather attempt to kill myself again." I said, gripping my hands into the bed sheets.

"Ronnie-" He sighed.

"No, there is no way I am going anywhere with you, I don't need you I don't need any of you. I'm staying here." I said firmly, but feeling myself grow angrier by the second.

"Well what are you gonna do then, go back out onto the streets and try kill yourself again?" He spoke raising his voice a little, he stood up from where he was sitting and ran a hand through his hair. Even though the thought had crossed my mind, he wasn't finished talking. "You need to be with someone who can help you, someone who cares about you." He said standing at the side of my bed and looking down at me.

"You do not care about me!" I shouted. He looked surprised as his eyes widened a little. "You have never cared about me. It only took me nearly dying for you to come here. You haven't cared about me since the day you left and you know it, so save all your bullshit for someone else." I shouted, I hadn't even realised I had got up on to my knees on the bed until I realised his eyes were level with mine instead of looking down, my fists were clenched at my sides and my breathe was heavy, I was still exhausted, but I couldn't show him that.

He looked into my eyes, scanning them, I'm not sure why, but he stood there for a good minute, just staring at me before breaking his gaze and turning to walk out the door. He grabbed his jacket of the back of his chair and grabbed the door handle, but before he opened it he spoke.

"You know I care about you Ronnie, more than anything." He paused. "I'll bring the doctor back to clear you, then we'll go get your stuff." Then he was gone.

His words did nothing but offend me, care about me? Seriously, like he expected me to believe that crap. I fell back down on to the bed, furiously running my hands through my hair, in order to think of anything that could get me out of here. I jumped out of the bed, wincing when my feet came in contact with the ground, I almost fell before I remembered my aim, I walked barefoot over to the window which decorated the dull room, I attempted to push it open, but it wouldn't budge. I walked over to the draws that were in my bed side table, searching ferociously through them in search of my phone. I dug around everywhere, in all the cupboards, under the bed. That's when the doctor walked in, I jumped up from the floor trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Well I see your up and walking about, that's a good sign." The doctor said, he was around 60 odd and sported a head of white hair, he walked over to me with his clip board. I looked out the corner of my eye and saw Brendon standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest looking at me. I shot him an evil look before turning my attention back to the doctor who was hopefully gonna let me the fuck out of here.

"If you wouldn't mind taking a seat on the bed miss Urie, I'll take a look at you." I couldn't help but cringe at the thought of him calling me miss Urie, only because it was a name I was forced to share with my brother.

I sat up on the bed like he asked and he pulled up a stool on spinning wheels in front of me. First he pulled out a little light from the pocket of his white coat and shone it in my eyes. Well thanks asshole.

I squinted and shield away from the light going to cover it up with my hands.

"Yes, you will be sensitive to light for the remainder of the day, I suggest you stay in relatively dark rooms." No shit douchebag, thanks for shining a light in my eye then. Next he looked inside my throat and examined my glands, his hands were cold, which I did not appreciate. "That all seems good." He said.

After a few more minutes of what I guessed were routine checks, he made his judgment.

"Well Miss Urie, it looks as though you're in the best health you can be at this stage, may I recommend you seek help for this problem that you have, you seem like a bright young independent girl, don't waste the best years of your life on subjects such as the one that brought you here today." And may I suggest you go shove it up your ass. He placed a hand on my shoulder, as an act of what I guessed was meant to be kindness. I shot him a forced smile before getting off the bed.

I looked down at the hospital gown that drenched my small frame then back up to Brendon, raising my eyebrows and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Where are my clothes?" I snapped, wondering why he was just staring at me.

"Oh yeah, I'll get them." He spoke, stumbling off the go find them.

Realisation hit me that I may actually have to leave with him, in all honesty I had nowhere else to go. I may actually have to leave with the one person who I hated most in the world. My own Brother.