FicWad

Sorry for the lack of updates. I have just been super busy and dealing with well...life. Enjoy!


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Frank lifted his head from his hands and turned to look at Mikey.

"So that's it?" He said hollowly. "You're just going to choose to be a drug addict?" Mikey sighed, lifting his head.

"No. Yes. Well, I guess but no. It's not like that!" He said, stumbling over the words. He felt fuzzy and he couldn't quite say what he wanted to say. He felt confused, angry even.

"How is it not like that? Fuck, Mikey! You either are you aren't, there's not an in between." Frank said harshly. He regretted his tone of voice when he saw the crushed look on Mikey's face. He knew this couldn't be easy for him but he knew that Mikey needed to hear this and sometimes, the truth was harsh. Frank watched as Mikey's face crumpled into an onset of fresh tears.

"I know, I know!" Mikey cried, looking down at his hands. "How did I get myself into this? Why does it have to be so good, huh?" Mikey continued to stare at his hands and waited in the silence for Frank to speak.

"I wish I could tell you." They both remained quiet after that, Frank staring in front of him and Mikey looking at his hands, trying to fight off the drowsiness that was quickly overtaking him. He was totally down from his high and was exhausted. He didn't want to say anything but he could feel his eyes shutting.

"You look tired." Frank said as Mikey forced his eyes open. He stifled a yawn as he nodded his head. Frank stood up and held out his hand to Mikey.

"Well, give me your hand and I'll help you to bed." Mikey stared at his hand a moment before shaking his head.

"I...I can do it." He said, trying to stand up but failing miserably. Frank gave him a half-hearted smile.

"Suurrreee you can. Stop being stubborn and take my fucking hand, okay?" Mikey's throat made a sound of defeat and he took Frank's hand. He felt Frank pull him up into a standing position and again, he leaned heavily into him. He was happy for the assistance and yet, ashamed of it as well. He hadn't meant for it to be this way. He never wanted for Frank to get hurt, or to have to deal with this.

They started to walk slowly to Mikey's room. Mikey felt like his legs were made of rubber and as a result, he stumbled every couple of steps. He still felt a little dizzy and it seemed like the door to his room was a million miles away instead of a few feet. After entering his room, Frank led him to his dresser.

"Can you lean on this for a minute?" Mikey whispered yes and Frank let go of him and strode quickly over to the bed. Mikey watched as Frank pulled down the covers and fluffed the pillows a bit. The kind gesture made him feel guilty. Even after all the shit he'd just pulled, Frank was still being thoughtful. He was still being his friend. Frank was wrapping his arm around Mikey again and they made their way to the bed. Frank helped Mikey lower himself onto the bed and put his legs up on it as well. He pulled the covers up close to his chin and turned to walk away.

"Frank?" Frank paused and rigidly stood still.

"Yeah?" Mikey shifted in his bed, his eyes were heavy and he was fighting to stay awake but he had to say one more thing to Frank.

"Thank you." He watched as Frank's countenance loosened and he turned to face Mikey.

"You're welcome." Frank replied softly. Mikey let himself sink into the bed and was asleep almost instantly. Frank watched as all the worry left Mikey's face and was replaced by the placidity of sleep. He quietly walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. He found himself in the hallway leaning up against the wall. The light made the white walls look slightly golden and casted weird shadows from the picture frames that were handing in a neat row along the wall.

How did this happen? Why was this happening to Mikey, of all people?

Frank let the thoughts run through his head as he felt himself sliding down the wall.

This isn't fair. How do I help him?

He was on the floor now, his legs pulled up and his chin resting on his knees. he could feel despair, anger and fear all welling up inside of him and making his chest tight.

Why doesn't he see how bad this is? What can be so great that he wants to hurt himself like this?

He put his hands on the back of him head, letting his bent arms lay parallel to his body.

Can I help him...or is he too far gone?

At that last thought, Frank let his face crumple and as silently as he could, he sat in the hallway and cried.