When Isaac and Zachary woke up, Taylor had fallen asleep again. Their mother was sitting beside his bed, her arms folded beneath her head next to him. There was a steady beeping from the heart monitor hooked up to their brother as he slept quietly. He may be quiet now, but what happens when he needs more drugs? Isaac wondered to himself, as did Zac. Isaac gently roused their sleeping mother.

�Why don�t I go see if there�s an extra bed somewhere for you to sleep in?�

�No, I don�t want to leave him.� She said quickly.

�I�m sure they can bring a bed in here.� Zac said. She looked at Taylor; she stood up and bent over him, kissing his forehead softly. But it was enough to wake him. He drew in a slow, deep breath, and his brow furrowed. He opened his eyes slowly; he blinked a few times, and looked at them. Where was he? How did he get there? The last thing he remembered was being in the garage � he suddenly realized: They knew. He heard the heart monitor beeping, and felt the oxygen tube under his nose, and he knew he was in the hospital.

�Why am I here?� He asked them, propping himself up on his elbows in an attempt to get up. Their mother put her hand against his chest firmly.

�You stay right where you are,� she told him. He looked at her for a moment, then sank back against the pillows. �You�re lucky you didn�t kill yourself.� She said, her eyes becoming a little glassy with tears.

�What are you talking about?� He replied. He knew what she had to be talking about. If she knew he was using cocaine, that�s what she�d be getting at.

�Taylor, don�t.� Isaac said quietly. �We already know; you don�t have to lie about it.� Taylor didn�t want to put up with this. He needed a fix, now. His head was pounding.

�I�m not lying, and I�m going home.� He replied, sitting up again.

�Don�t go home.� Their mother said. �Please, stay here so the doctors can help you. I�m begging you, Taylor.� If she had to get on her knees at that moment and beg him, she would have.

�I don�t need any help, Mom. I�m perfectly fine.�

�You were so wasted yesterday that you couldn�t stand up on your own. You were having seizures for God�s sake!� Zac interjected. �You do need help.�

�That�s not true.�

�Yes, it is.� Isaac replied. �Cocaine? Heroin? Taylor� what were you thinking?�

�I�m not listening to this.� He said, swinging his feet over the side of the bed and standing up. But there were things attached to him � an I.V. line in his left hand, tabs with wires on his chest for the heart monitor, and a small oxygen tube under his nose.

�You have to stop, Taylor, or you�re going to kill yourself.� Their mother said, taking him by the hands, tears visible in her eyes.

�I can stop any time I want,� he said. In reality, he couldn�t. He needed a fix so badly that he felt like he was going to throw up.

�Can you?� Isaac replied. �Then stop, now.�

�No! I like to do it!� He shouted. �It makes me feel good. I don�t have to pretend anything; there�s no smiling for pretty pictures.� The three of them fell silent. They had no idea he felt that way. Taylor wanted to use drugs.

�You don�t mean that.� Zac said quietly.

�Yes I do.� He countered. He was sweating now. He needed something. He had to get out of there. �Let me go, Mom.�

�I don�t care if I have to hold you down, you are not leaving here. There�s a rehab program at this hospital, and you�re in it starting now. I don�t care if you�re nineteen or not, I will not let you kill yourself because you�re addicted to drugs.� Things were happening so fast. All he could think about was how badly he needed a fix. He felt cold, but he was sweating; his head ached, and he felt nauseous � even his bones hurt.

�You don�t understand, Mom,� he argued. �I need something; just a little��

�No.� She said. �You�re kicking this addiction � I don�t care if I have to have them put restraints on you.� If Taylor had been thinking clearly he would�ve realized that she couldn�t force him to do anything � he wasn�t a minor. He put his hands in his hair and closed his eyes.

�Please� just let me go. I need something�� She moved forward, forcing him backward. He sat down when the backs of his legs touched the bed.

�Can you go see if Dr. Murphy is around?� She asked Zac. He nodded. He was glad to leave the room. He knew that withdrawal got worse before it got better; he didn�t want to see how much worse. And things did get much worse. When the rest of his family arrived to see him, they weren�t allowed to go in his room he was so sick. He�d been throwing up, sweating and had the chills; he was shaking. His head pounded and he had a fever.

Diana sat with her son curled up in her lap, in a corner, on the floor. He was lying across her lap; he was in so much pain, more pain than he had ever been in.

�Oh God�� he cried in her lap. �I can�t stand it anymore� It hurts too much��

�You can do this,� she said, brushing his sweat-damp hair back with her fingers.

�I can�t; I can�t�� he said, trying to get up; she bent over and put her arms around him, preventing him from doing so. �Please�� he begged. �No; you can do this.�

�God I feel like I�m dying�� he cried quietly. She kept her arms around him, gently rocking him back and forth. She could feel him shaking; it brought tears to her eyes to see him like this. He felt like his insides were ripping apart, and there wasn�t a thing she could do for him.

He was like that for three long days, at least they seemed extraordinarily long to him. He was only there for a total of five days when he decided he�d had enough. And there was no talking him out of it.

�I�m OK,� he swore, over and over again to his parents and siblings. He apologized to Avery for being mean to her when he saw her. When Jessica found out Taylor had been taking drugs she cried, and now she was crying again because she was so happy that he was �OK�.

�Are you sure you�re OK to go home?� Diana asked him.

�Yes. I�m fine.� He couldn�t wait to get home. He checked himself out, and they brought him home.

Every time he turned around there was someone standing over his shoulder, and it was driving him crazy. He never got a moment to himself. He had to get out. He grabbed his jacket and car keys, and started out.

�Taylor,� his Dad called, getting up from the couch. �Where�re you going?�

�I love you guys, but I can�t stand having you constantly watching over my shoulder.� He put on his sunglasses and opened the door. �I�ll be back in a little while.� The door closed behind him.

He turned on the ignition and backed out of the driveway. Thank God�

He pulled up in front of a house � not the same one as last time. This place was where Jazz lived. He got out and went to the door and rang the bell. Jazz appeared in the window; the door opened.

�Jordan; I haven�t seen you in a week.� He said.

�I got stuck in rehab.� He replied. �I need some stuff, like, now. I�m going f*cking crazy.�

�I got your back.� Jazz went further into the house; Taylor stood inside the doorway. He came back with a small baggie of white powder�

He got lucky. When he got home, no one stopped him from going straight to his room. When he got there, his luck held out: the room was empty. He went to his dresser and put the baggie in the lockbox�

It didn�t take long (about a week) for someone to figure out that something was going on. Taylor�s personality began to change again � mood swings became very common for him. Zac seemed to notice more quickly than everyone else. He went right to their father this time.

Walker Hanson was sitting in the kitchen, at the table, helping Mackie do his math. Zac was a little reluctant to interrupt, but this was important.

�Dad?� Walker looked up. �Um, can I talk to you for a minute?� �Come on, Zac,� Mackie protested. �I need help with my math work.�

�I�m sorry, Mac. It�ll only be for a quick minute.� He looked at their father. �It�s really important.� Walker seldom saw a look like this on Zac�s face.

�Okay,� he agreed. �I�ll be right back,� he promised his younger son. He stepped out of the kitchen with Zac.

�What�s wrong?� He knew that something was wrong by the look on Zac�s face.

�It�s Taylor.� Zac answered. �He�s been really moody lately. He locked me out of the bedroom.�

�You don�t think he�s using drugs again, do you?� �I don�t know, maybe.� He replied. �He was puking last night��

�Great�� he mumbled. �Don�t say anything to him yet.� His father said. �Let me talk to your mother; if you really think so, come back and tell me.� Zac nodded. Taylor seemed �normal� for a few days; Zac thought for a moment that he was wrong.

�Taywer,� she whispered, shaking his shoulder.

�Mmm�?� He hummed. She knew he wasn�t really awake.

�Taywer�� She shook him harder. He opened his eyes when she said his name this time; it sounded like she had been or was crying.

�Zo�� he whispered. �What�s wrong? Did you have a bad dream again?� She nodded silently. He rubbed some of the sleep out of his eyes � he could see she had tears in her eyes, and tearstains on her cheeks.

�C�mere, sweetie,� he whispered. He lifted the covers and she climbed up onto his bed and under the covers with him. He put his arm over her, and pulled her against him; she was freezing.

�Taywer, sing.� She said quietly. He didn�t really want to sing, but he never could tell her �no�.

�When you have no light to guide you, and no one to walk beside you, I will come to you� oh, I will come to you.� He sang softly. �When the night is dark and stormy, you won�t have to reach out for me, I will come to you� oh, I will come to you,� he finished softly. He placed a kiss into her blonde curls, knowing she was asleep, and lay his head back down to go to sleep.

Zac heard it all, and thought maybe� Taylor was OK after all.

That was until he caught Taylor. He was going by their bedroom, and the door was open a crack. He glimpsed Taylor standing by his dresser. He remembered that Isaac had asked him to ask Taylor if he would listen to part of a song he�d written for the new album � last minute as always. He backed up, and stopped. He was frozen in his place. He watched Taylor scraping something on a glassy surface. His heart nearly stopped beating when he saw him sniffing it up his nose. He was using cocaine again� He knew he�d be coming out in a minute, so he hurried downstairs.

Taylor came downstairs; the rest of his family was out. He picked up the phone and dialed the phone number scribbled onto a small piece of paper. Zac was right around the corner.

�Lemme talk to Jazz.� He heard him say. �It�s important. No� I need some stuff, now. Yeah, hold on�� He saw him scrawl something onto a pad of paper.

�I got it. Yeah; I�ll be there in a little bit.� He hung up. He ripped the piece of paper off, and Zac came out into the kitchen.

�Tay,� he said, �don�t go.� Taylor glared at him.

�Stay outta this.� He replied.

�You don�t need drugs.� Zac said, advancing forward.

�Shut up, Zac. You don�t know what you�re talking about.�

�I saw you, upstairs; I saw you take the cocaine. What else are you taking?� He said; Taylor glared. �Please don�t do this.� Zac put a hand on his arm � Taylor flung it away.

�Don�t touch me.� He said through clenched teeth. �I�m going to get what I need, and you aren�t stopping me.�

He turned and started walking away. Zac reached out and grabbed Taylor�s left wrist. The rest happened so fast. Taylor spun around, and punched Zac, right in the face. His fist (and the ring he was wearing) could do more damage than he was aware of. Zac fell backward onto the floor, and brought his hands to his face. He lay there, and Taylor stood panting for a moment, then turned and left, leaving Zac laying on his side on the kitchen floor, holding his face.