FicWad

As soon as Pete fell asleep that night, I wasted no time in going back to my drugs. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep unless I knew they were still there; safe and sound.

When we had arrived back home it looked as though Pete had torn the house apart in search of the drugs. I tried not to let Pete know that I was concerned about the state of the house, I just headed straight for the bedroom without a second glance. But shit, as soon as I stepped foot into the house my chest nearly exploded because my heart was beating so rapidly.

I quietly and carefully made my way to the laundry. Too scared to turn on any lights in case Pete woke up, I used the walls to guide me. When I go to my destination I let out a sigh of relief.

The moon was shining brightly through the small window, which created enough light for me to be able to see where everything was. Not that I needed the light, I had been in this room on my hands and knees so many times now that I knew every detail about it.

Without a second though, I got down on my knees and shuffled towards the gap between the wall and the washing machine. Just as I reached out to grab the silky bag, a bright light flooded the room.

My head shot up, and I’m sure my face held the deer-caught-in-headlights expression. Shit, I know I felt like one.

Pete stood in the doorway, casually leaning against the door frame with his arms across his chest.

“You’re not going to find anything,” Pete said smoothly.

My hands began to shake and the thought. Despite Pete telling me that, I reached my hand further into the gap and felt around for the bag. Tears stung at the back of my eyes when I couldn’t find anything. The vomit that always seemed to be there in situations like this began to creep its way up my throat.

I looked up at Pete while I still frantically searched for my drugs. He continued standing in the doorway, calmly watching me.

“Where are they?” I asked as the tears began to fall from my eyes.

“I flushed them.”

As soon as the words left his mouth I’m sure my heart stopped beating. I gave up searching for my drugs and buried my head in my hands. Through the cracks of my fingers I could see the room begin to spin, getting faster and faster with each passing second. I closed my eyes tightly, trying to block out the room and cease the dizziness in my head. I could hear Pete cautiously walk over to me and kneel down beside me.

“Why?” I moaned into my hands.

Pete wrapped his arms around my shaking body protectively and pulled me into his chest. I wanted to push him off me and beat him for what he’d done to me. But my hands were shaking so much and I was too scared to open my eyes.

“I want you to get better,” Pete whispered into my ear.

“But I don’t want to get better,” I sobbed.

“Do you love me?”

Pete’s sudden question threw me off a bit. Of course I loved him. Well, maybe not at this particular moment, but in the big picture I loved him more than anything.

Pete pulled me back and gently stroked my cheek, a sign showing that he wanted me to open my eyes. I hesitantly opened one eye and saw the room had stopped spinning, so I opened my other eye and looked into Pete’s. I could sense his eyes were begging me to answer his question. I nodded in response and through my blurry vision I could see him smile.

“Good,” Pete chuckled, “cause I love you too, and I plan on keeping you around for a while.”

I shook my head, still confused. Pete hadn’t clarified much; I still wasn’t sure why he threw my drugs out. Sure, I knew Pete loved me, and he continued loving me even when the drugs came into our lives. So why did it matter so much if I took them or not? Wasn’t loving someone looked past their flaws?

“But I don’t want to get better,” I repeated stupidly.

Pete sighed and pulled me back in his chest. We sat there for a while, Pete’s hand gently rubbing my back and he would occasionally kiss the top of my head. I’m not sure how much time past while we sat on the cold floor, it could have been hours for all I knew. My crying had ceased some time ago, even though I didn’t feel ready to stop crying.

I wanted to cry and cry until I got my own way. I wanted to kick and scream until Pete gave my drugs back. I also wanted to hurt Pete, both mentally and physically.

I tightly grasped Pete’s shirt in my hands as I contemplated exactly what I was going to do to him. But as my hands touched his chest I felt him shaking. At first I assumed it was due to the cold. I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face when I noticed he had tears falling steadily from his eyes.

“Why are you crying?” I asked quietly as I wiped tears from his cheeks.

“I’m scared,” he admitted.

“Of what?”

Pete closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself enough to stop the tears. But when he opened his eyes more tears began to fall.

“I’m terrified that I’m going to come home one day and those fucking drugs would have killed you,” Pete said, his words were shaking and rushed.

Pete’s honest answer shocked me. I’d never seen him like this before; sure, I’d seen him cry but I’d never seen him look this scared. And it was my fucking selfishness that was causing it. Shit, why did I always seem to mess things up?

My hands continued to gently wipe away the tears falling gracefully from Pete’s eyes. In my mind I was trying to think of anything to say to Pete that would reassure him, but nothing came to me.

As Pete continued to shake, the guilt began to engulf my thoughts. Never had I once felt guilty for using the drugs, except now. I didn’t want Pete to be this torn up over something I could easily stop. Well, not easily, but I’m sure I could stop.

Before I could rethink my decision, I sucked in a nervous breath and made Pete look in to my eyes.

“I’ll quit.”