ʜʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴄᴀʟ [ᴄʟsᴅ]
----the rehab was trying something new. It was different this time, they kept murmuring. He was going under surveillance and it wasn't by the silly men in their silly police hats who run around London like they knew what they were doing. No, this time, they promised a medical doctor.
Which was all just fucking wonderful in the context of Gary King; someone to make sure he cuts down on his intake of alcohol and other ... extra-circular activities. Of course, his mum got involved. Of course, this was going to help. But Gary King only bet that the doctor would last less than a day before writing him off as a case he couldn't handle.
So he sat in the office of the bloody church, avoiding eye contact with the reverend and just waited.