I Dont Ever Want to Lose My Best Friend

*Vic's POV*

"Now," Dr. Neal started. "I have with me a razorblade. A sharp, shiny, harmful razorblade."

He held up the blade and both Kellin's and my hand flew to the scars on our wrists. I ran my fingers along each of them, wondering what he was doing with that blade.

He handed it to Kellin.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" He asked.

"I want you to cut," Dr. Neal said softly. Our eyes widened at his statement.

"Y-you what?!" Kellin yelled.

"I want you to make a cut. One small cut. Thats it. Wherever you please."

"But wh—"

"Ah, just do it."

So Kellin took the blade to his wrist...and made a cut. Blood started pouring out and I winced. Not because it was uncomfortable, but because he was hurting himself.

"Very good," Dr. Neal took the blade from him and gave it to me. "Now you."

So I did as I was told. I made a little cut on my wrist. Then he took the blade from me.

"The reason you get addicted to cutting is because when you cut, your body releases endorphines. These endorphines are highly addictive, and send you on some form of a high. So its like a drug. And the habit is very hard to break," he explained. He then put the blade on the side table.

"Now, this is the tricky part. Im going to leave this blade on the table in plain sight. What the idea is, is to make you want it and feel like you need it, but know you cant. And if Kellin cuts, Vic has permission to. Vice versa from there. I know you two care very much about each other, so you dont want the other getting hurt. Welcome to recovery."

I sat there in shock. This was by far the weirdest recovery technique I had ever heard of. But if it worked...this man had all my respect.

Dr. Neal began to get up" but Kellin stopped him. "Dr. Neal?"

"Yes, Kellin?"

"Can I ask you something privately?"

"Of course. Vic, could you exit for a moment?"

"Sure," I said, and walked out of the room.

*Kellin's POV*

"What's bothering you, Mr. Quinn?" Dr. Neal asked.

"Well..." I began. "After the accident, Ive been having flashbacks of it and some of the events before it...is there something wrong with me?"

Dr. Neal sighed and looked at me. "From past experiences, that sounds like a case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD. I almost knew it would happen, as that was quite the wreck you had.'

"Yes, sir. So is there anything that can help me?"

"Well, my first suggestion would be additional counseling. There are also different medications that can help. I can attempt to get you both tomorrow."

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Mr. Quinn."

He left and Vic came back in. "What was that about?" He asked me.

"Nothing, I just needed to tell him something."

"Oh. What was it?"

"Dont worry about it, babe. Its all better now."

"Okay," he hugged me, and snuggled up beside me. My words ran through my head.

"Its all better now. Its all better now. Its all better now."

At least I hoped it was...