( A/N:Hey, back with a new chapter of this! Still kind of a slow beginning, I know, but that's why I need your critiques - how am I supposed to improve otherwise? Anyway, hope you enjoy! )

On a steady diet of
Soda pop and Ritalin
No one ever died for my sins in hell
As far as I can tell
At least the ones I got away with
— Jesus of Suburbia, Green Day

Chapter Two:

"Basketcase? What the living hell are you doing here?"

After his breakup and subsequent disillusionment with Claire, John Bender had already resigned himself to his fate. He would, bit by bit, remove himself from Shermer High and all the assholes who resided there. He'd need to get some sort of menial job, to support his shitty family, and in this way Bender would live, more likely than not unhappy.

But nothing in his plans included chasing Allison Reynolds down an alleyway, so, needless to say, he was shocked. For her part, dear old Basketcase seemed pretty chill about the whole thing, staring at a fixed point near Bender's head with those belligerent eyes, his wallet still clutched in her hand.

Time spent waiting for Basketcase to respond to you was time spent wasted, apparently. She just sat there motionless, as if mentally she were in another world. Honestly, Bender had been under the impression that she'd gotten over the whole mouse-act in detention, and got just a little bit concerned. Not a lot, mind you - he was John Bender, after all. He reached out and shook her awkwardly by the shoulders a bit, unsure of what else to do. He didn't reach for his wallet, however. He'd practically forgotten about it.

"Hey - earth to Basketcase! You gotta hearing problem, or something?"

Allison receded slightly into the solitary envelopment of her coat at his yelling and shaking, giving a shrill little mouse-like shriek. Why was John Bender so concerned, anyway? He'd abandoned her, just like the others. Just like Claire, and Brian, and… Andrew. She receded even more deeply into the coat. She just wanted to sleep, be numb to the world. Why wouldn't he just go away? He was good at that - seemed like everyone that Allison knew was.

"What do you want?" Allison's dazy voice was muffled through the jacket, but hopefully her tone would be clear enough that he would get lost.

Bender gave her a puzzled look. This was a look that Basketcase often inspired, he knew, but she was even freakier than usual today. She talked as though he had barged into her bedroom or something, rather than having found her practically passed out in an alleyway with his wallet in her hand. We aren't even friends, really, he told himself, why the hell should you give a rats ass about Basketcase? But he still couldn't keep an edge of concern out of his voice, even through the meanness.

"I want my fucking wallet back, for one thing!" Honestly at this point the dumb empty wallet wasn't his main concern, it was just an excuse - he hadn't actually expected her to give it to him. But Basketcase shoved it in his general direction anyway, still keeping her head burrowed in her coat. "And also, well… like I said, what the hell are you doing out here? Basketcase?"

No answer. Fucking typical.

"It's dark out, you know, and you're sitting in one of the shittiest parts of Chicago," he continued dully. He was quite good at pretending he didn't care. Years of experience, after all. "You're gonna get jumped if you stay out here any longer alone."

He didn't expect a response to that, either, but a muffled reply came from the huddled figure, "yeah. By you, probably. So go away."

For a moment Bender was tempted to do just that - after all, never let it be said that he didn't give the ladies what they wanted, right? But in the end his stubbornness prevailed, and he grabbed by the puffy jacket and yanked her unsteadily to her feet - not roughly, mind you, but certainly not giving her any choice in the matter. She didn't put up much fight about it, though, although she glared daggers at him.

"So, where d'you live? Let's take a little walk."

"I can't - I won't - go back there," Allison said flatly, but Bender kept asking her until she told him, just to get him off her case. He still hadn't let go of her jacket when they started walking out of the alley. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, although, really, this behaviour could only be considered nice by John Bender standards.

"Oh, because I want to go to heaven!" John cried in a falsetto exaggeration of a pious tone which Allison couldn't help but smirk at, although she kept on with her question.

"No, seriously. Why?"

Bender frowned slightly, scratching his face with the hand that wasn't clutching onto Basketcase's jacket. "I dunno, 'm bored," he said, a little too carelessly. The rest of the walk passed in silence until they arrive at Carroll street. Not a richie neighborhood, Bender noted, although not too shabby, either. Middle-class. He stomped Basketcase over to her house, which was the only one on the street that didn't have a perfectly manicured lawn.

Allison looked from what had once been her house to Bender, and back again, a glower creeping into her gaze. "You took me home, great. Now get lost."

Bender frowned slightly in response, as though he suspected that something was amiss. Damn it, Allison muttered to herself. "I will, I will - once you go inside. Gotta be a gentleman, right?" Allison made a small squeak of discontent. Really? He chose now to worry about being a gentleman? She let out a long sigh.

Okay, now John was sure that something was up. The lounging in the slums was one thing, but not even want to go home? He knew that Basketcase didn't love her parents or anything, but still. So he stood firmly there, waiting for Basketcase to either go inside or tell him why she wouldn't. And soon enough, she did.

"Listen, Bender…" Allison began, her pale face emerging from the jacket so he could actually hear him - although that was soon made a moot point as she began gnawing at her uneven nails, her voice growing quieter and more mumbled with every word. "I really can't go in there, even if I wanted to - which I don't. But, uh… my parents kicked me out." She finished the sentence in a near-whisper.

It took Bender a moment to decipher Basketcase's mumbled words, but when he did, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "No kidding? Gee, I knew you were nutso, but I didn't know you were that bad!" he chuckled… although his laughing faded as Basketcase sighed and burrowed back into her jacket, muttering to herself. He was pretty sure he saw the glint of wetness running down her face.

After a moment of awkwardly considering what he should do - was it too late to just walk away? - Bender wrapped an arm around the girl, uncovering her face from the jacket to flick away the tears trickling down her cheeks. Uncharacteristically affectionate, perhaps, but she'd just gotten kicked out of her home, and no home life was better than even his crumby one. "Hey, hey, it's alright! Don't cry on me, Basketcase - I mean, Allison. It's not that big a deal, you know - " He'd never been good at comforting people, but reassuring words just kept oozing through his lips until Basketcase had stopped her moping.

"I guess you're right," she said with a sigh, her eyes red from crying yet still venomous. "It's not like they ever cared about me, anyways."

"That's the spirit!" Bender cried enthusiastically, realizing a moment later that it wasn't really spirited at all. "But hey, you can hang out with me, yeah? Don't want you loitering around in the ghetto, that's for sure. I'll take you to Sporto's place or somethin'." Bender had little desire to see yet another of the people who'd so betrayed him, but he was pretty sure that Sporto and Basketcase were still going strong - and perhaps Basketcase would be more comforted by her little boytoy than she was by him.

"No," Allison answered flatly, surprising him. "Andy won't want to see me, either." And with that she slipped out of Bender's half-hearted embrace, and began walking down the street, away from him.

Bender followed her. He wasn't sure why, and honestly he didn't like how considerate he was acting - niceness felt a lot like weakness to a boy who'd known little more than hardship. Yet he followed her anyway, running until he caught up with her and could slow to a reasonable pace. "So, Sporto abandoned you too, huh?"

Basketcase didn't look unhappy that she still had company, but she didn't look happy, either. "It was my fault," she said dully, giving her feet an intense amount of focus.

"Tell me about it," Bender said with an easy chuckle, before his face softened, tone became just a tad more serious. "But hey, if you really don't have anywhere else to go… you could come to my place for the night." He paused. "I know it's not ideal, but -"

The mouse-girl interrupted him with a squeak. "Really? You mean, you still want to be friends?"

Bender frowned, considering. He was still convinced that the entirety of the Breakfast Club had disregarded everything that had happened during that fateful detention and abandoned him. "Yeah, whatever. But mostly I want to keep you from sleeping in the streets."

A chuckle escaped Allison, although she had a suspicion that he wasn't joking. "Okay… Where do you live, anyway?"

He laughed as well, although his was rather cold and bitter. "Nowhere you've ever been, babe," he drawled with condescension.

And there's nothing wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don't believe in me
— Jesus of Suburbia, Green Day

( A/N: So, what do you think? Thanks to the few who've faved and followed, but I'd love to see some reviews! It helps motivate me, and honestly even if I continue writing this story I don't see the point of posting it on here if not many people are interested in it. But anyway, thanks! )