Chance

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He looked thinner. I hovered in the doorway of the activity room, my hands clenched in the pockets of my jeans as I watched him pace back and forth. He didn't look like he belonged here and I wondered when he'd last slept. I wondered if he was sober and if he still had his apartment. Maybe he was sleeping on the couch at the shop still.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk over to him. I hadn't told anyone that I was calling him to come see me. Jane and Alex would have tried to talk me out of it. Matthew would have told me that it was too soon. Toddleson would have wanted me to practice what I was going to say and maybe would have offered to join us.

I needed to do this on my own.

"Hey," I said softly as I walked up behind him.

He jumped and turned around, looking at me. His eyes were clear. He'd definitely lost weight, but from what I could tell, he was sober.

Chance smiled shyly at me. "Damn you look good."

I shrugged. "Three meals a day. I think they're trying to make me fat."

"Maybe they have an oven they're going to stuff you into."

I forced a laugh and motioned for him to sit on the couch. I sat down next to him, keeping a respectable distance between us. I didn't fully trust myself around him. I was stronger, but I wasn't that strong yet.

Chance wrung his hands, staring down at the floor. "I got my test results back. I tested positive, too."

I reached out to touch his shoulder, but then pulled back. I didn't think it was my place anymore. I clasped my hands together and looked down at them.

"I'm sorry," I said finally.

He shrugged. "I could have given it to you," he replied. I looked up to see the sad smile he gave me. "We will never know."

"I'm still sorry," I said. He nodded. "Are you still using?"

He took a deep breath and then shook his head. "No. Yes. No. I'm not. No." He ran a hand through his hair and gave a half laugh. "You left Rick, which screwed me over because I had been the one who convinced him to let you run for him. So, he took all of my money and I lost my apartment and I've been living in my car ever since."

"Damn," I muttered. "I didn't mean to do that to you."

"I know," Chance said, reaching over and putting his hand over mine. "I know. I'm not mad. It's probably the best thing that has happened to me because it forced me to detox. I can't afford drugs when I have no money. That was hell, by the way. The detoxing."

"I wanted to die," I told him, giving him a small smile. "I'm doing better, though."

"I'm glad," he replied, squeezing my hands. "I wish I could afford a place like this."

"You don't have to be able to afford rehab, Chance. There are options. My aunt was always pushing people to rehab who couldn't afford it," I told him, grasping his hand in mine. He wouldn't look at me now. "Chance, please. You were the person who took me in without even knowing me. You were there for me when I shoved everyone away, even after I sliced my fucking arm open."

"I don't know if I want it, Beckham."

"Then that's even more reason to do it," I pleaded with him. I forced him to look at me. "I've been in your shoes, Chance. Hell, I'm still there most days. But, we still have a lot of years ahead of us and who knows, they may even find a cure. We don't know what's going to happen. That's why we need to try to fight, even if it's the last thing we want to do."

"When did you become the smart one?" he muttered.

I moved over closer to him. "I guess I realized that my life isn't so shitty after all. I mean, my dad killed my mom and I had to watch her die, but there are ways to deal with that and I'm learning how to. So, each day I'm taking a step forward, no matter how hard it is to do that. I've got people now who are supporting me and keeping me safe, which is something I've realized during the time I've been here, because I never had that before. My mom could have left my dad, but she didn't. I've been putting all the blame on myself, but it's not just my fault. We all played a part in it and I've been learning how to deal with that."

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