Son of a drug addict

Part. 20

A/N:  1K views! Thank you so much for reading this story. You are all awesome and I love you. Stay gorgeous.

By the way, I also published a new one-shot. You can find it from my profile, it is called "Other night".

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Enjoy the chapter 20! xoxo

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*** Monday ***

I woke up at Diego's place. I sighed and watched the ceiling and lighted up a cigarette. At least we all know where Lee is, that's the positive thing. But all the negative ones... First, he didn't have to come back. Second, he shouldn't have disappeared and then come back like nothing happened. Third, he just should have stayed away.

I stood up and started coughing again. More blood coming from my lungs. Shit, what is going on? I wipe the blood to my jeans and walk downstairs. I see Jason sleeping on the couch and Diego reading news in the kitchen. He looked at me but didn't say anything first.

"Hello" I said, opening my hands sarcastically.

"What happened? It was 3 AM and you come here with Jay sleeping on your back. You just... You didn't say anything, just that you're gonna stay the night" he said, putting the news paper down.

"I was tired, too tired to explain" I muttered, inhaling the smoke once again.

"Explain what?"

"Dad got back. He was drunk and angry. He told me I was worthless piece of crap, and that Jason deserves only shit. We had to leave" I said, sitting down on the other side of the table.

Diego nodded sadly. "Few more months, Mike. Then you're free"

"Yeah, I know" I said, but started coughing uncontrollably. Diego walked next to me and tapped firmly on my back to help. I felt sick to my stomach and felt liquid coming to my mouth. I was gonna throw up. I hurried to the kitchen sink right on time, not to make mess on the floor.

I threw up red liquid. Blood. A lot.

"Jesus christ, Mike" Diego said with concern.

"What?" I breathed, watching the bloody sink. "What's wrong with me?"

"I'm not a doctor. You're going to see one" Diego said, rubbing my shoulder with his hand.

"What? No! They will run blood tests and find out about the drugs. I can't go to jail"

Diego sighed, and said "One of my friends is a doctor. He has every legal doctor rights and licenses, but if he finds out drugs, he doesn't give a shit"

I spitted the last bits out of my mouth, and Diego dialed a number. "Hey Donald! I have a patient for you... Alright.. Under 18. Yes... I don't know... Okay, he'll be there"

I looked at him. "So?"

"At 10. I'll take you" he said, putting his phone to his pocket.

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"Alright. Michael Shinoda" the doctor said, looking through some papers. "How old are you?"

"Can't you count it from my birth certificate?" I asked.

"Yeah. Born in 1977. I'm a doctor, not a mathematician" he said.

"I'm 17"

"Why you here?" he asked, folding his hands on the table.