Dan's heart drops when he sees you, and he inwardly curses the universe for everything and anything that has led him up to this point. He knows he shouldn't be doing it, but knowing he shouldn't, and actually refraining from doing it are two different things. And Dan hasn't refrained. Not in a long, long time. Despite the itch in his veins, the fuzziness of his brain and how desperately he needs to get to his dealer's house to get his fix... he knows he can't go. Not anymore.

Because you're on the side of the road, dressed like a goddamn prostitute, with this nervous- terrified- look on your face. Like you're not quite sure what you're supposed to be doing. And he hates it. He hates the stupid dress you're wearing- it doesn't look good, because nothing looks good on a thirteen year old girl, unless you're a freak. And Dan is not a freak. A drug addict? Duh.

He thinks you look disgusting.

Dan hates that he's not surprised to see you like this. You had been acting odd recently; not eating, not speaking, doing poorly in class. Sighing through his nose and rubbing at his tired eyes, Dan slowly pulls the car to the curb in front of you, rolling down his window. He stares at you for a long time, taking in your stricken face when you realize it's him.

"Get in, kid," He murmurs, like he has a thousand times before he drives you home from school because your mom is too busy at the hospital to get you. Dan sees the confliction in your eyes, the way they widen, your lips parted because you think he's asking for that. Dan's stomach rolls. "Jesus, no. Get in the car. I'm taking you home."

You look like a fish out of water. "I can't." You choke out. "I lost my key and my mom's not home."

"Then you're coming home with me. You're not staying out here dressed like this." Dan says sternly, though he keeps his voice soft. He's a bit peeved that he isn't able to get his fix, but it's overshadowed by how worried he is for you. He knew your family was strapped for cash, but would you really be willing to...?