We tend to Die Young - 10/12
We Tend to Die Young
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 68,689 words • 5201 words this chapter
Warnings: Drug use, sex, swearing, death, violence
Main Pairings: Gabe/Brendon, Travis/William, Travis/Katy, William/Everyone
Background Pairings: William/Tom, William/Suarez, Ryan/Cassadee, Victoria/Leighton, Alicia/Mikey, Bert/Quinn, Jon/Spencer, Gabe/Pete
Disclaimer: All these characters are real life people and not my own. This entire story is fiction; a complete figment of my imagination and so I am not implying that none of this has ever or ever will happen.
Author Note: Christ; I'm so so sorry about the delay on this one. I guess this is also a kind of emotional chapter for me and my girl. All comments are much appreciated. Two more to go!
Previous Parts: Click here (10/12)
Click the banner for a short synopsis/blurb/summary of the fic.
Gabe is sure his heart is beating fast, he's sure that there's a throbbing in his elbows and he's sure that heat is flushing his chest. But he can't really feel it, he can't feel any of it. It's not the cold that makes his shoes damp or his lips blue, it's not the layers of clothing tight around his body, but it's the pills. Gabe doesn't pay attention to it because as far as he's concerned, there's nothing there, so he just walks, numb, with fast steps towards Front Park; a reserve close to the water front.
He tugs his jacket more tightly around himself and stares ahead as the park comes into view. He looks past his fogged breath puffing in front of him as his lungs struggle against the numbness all over, but keeps on walking until he steps foot inside the park. At first he doesn't know what he's looking for, he has to stop, he has to look around. He has that unnerving feeling under all six layers of nothing, the feeling that reminds him that he has no idea what he's about to do next.
Finding someone in Front Park is easier than he ever thought it to be. He knows that there are a few dealers out here, that there are a few homeless and the very occasional jogger, but otherwise it's pretty empty. He still isn't sure what to feel when he passes a building to find someone leaning against the wall with a cigarette in their mouth, hair down to their shoulders and an almost completely blank expression on.
Gabe knows this guy isn't homeless. He knows he's not a worthless addict, and he's definitely not a jogger. He can see it in the way the guy stands, the way he drops his cigarette down and crushes it with force like he's the greatest thing on the planet. He also knows he's a dealer because he knows that height, that shadowed face and the over-confident way he hunches his shoulders, just like the guy Gabe saw running from the alley all those weeks ago.
Gabe approaches without a word and luckily, when the guy hears his footsteps he luckily doesn't run away, especially since Gabe shoves a hand into his pocket. He pulls out all of the money, scrunched up in his hand, and holds it out as he stops and stands a mere foot away. "What've you got?" he mutters, knowing that he's not going to be denied. There's a certain way that Singer's eyes light up when he sees how much cash Gabe is holding.
"What're you looking for?" he asks, smirking as he leans in a little closer to Gabe. Gabe feels sick.
"Smack," he says back, just as quietly but a little more firmly. He hopes that Singer can't see it in his eyes; the way that he looks at him like he's filth, because to Gabe, that's all Singer really is. It only takes a nod for Gabe to hand the cash over as Singer opens up his jacket and digs through his inside pockets before handing to Gabe a little plastic slip with the heroin sealed inside in plastic.
"Nice doin' business," Singer grins as he takes his packet of smokes out again and starts to light one up. Gabe would leave, carry himself home before he has a chance to do anything, but his legs just refuse to move. He can't feel a single bone in his body as he sticks a hand into his jacket, burying the little plastic bag in one of his pockets but letting his hand linger over the handle of the gun.
He watches as Singer takes two blind steps back, then turns around and starts walking away as he holds his newly lit cigarette in his mouth. Only then does Gabe manage to swallow the block in his throat and call, "'M surprised you don't remember me," even if it's subtle and quiet.
Singer only just glances over his shoulder and his eyes widen, just as Gabe tightens his grip around the gun properly flings it from his jacket. He holds it out in front of him and pulls the trigger without even a chance to aim, but he hears Singer shout out a loud curse and stumble against the wall. Gabe's eyes are blinded with a sheen of tears that he can't feel as the bang echoes in his mind, as he takes those furious steps over to where Singer is slumped against the wall, fumbling with his coat to try and get out what Gabe guesses to be a backup gun.
Before Singer even has a chance to close his grip around something, Gabe grabs the collar of his jacket and tugs him up harshly before pushing him back against the ground, hitting his head hard against the concrete around the building. Singer inhales sharply as Gabe drops so a knee is either side of his waist, those tears still blinding as he knocks a clenched fist hard against Singer's jaw.
Three, four, five quick swings later and Gabe has to sit up, breathing harshly as he watches Singer's chest heave as he struggles to breathe, blood dripping from his broken nose and the skin busted on his lip and jaw. He splutters and coughs and drops of blood fly from his mouth, and Gabe can already feeling blood from the wound in Singer's stomach starting to stain his clothes. Gabe doesn't give up though, just whispers harsh words as he grips tightly in Singer's hair, hits his head against the ground again then swings forth another punch to his cheek.
Every breath Singer takes is another twitch of hate sending alarm bells to go off in Gabe's head, which is what gives him the energy for his fists to keep flying. He knees Singer in the gut, right where the wound is and he hears the man choke out some kind of groan, but it's barely audible. When Gabe is finally exhausted, covered in his enemy's blood and when Singer barely has his eyes open, Gabe rips open the man's coat and digs around his pockets.
He first gets his money back, ignoring how his bloodied up fists and fingers put stains on the bills, and instead works on shoving them into his pocket again. Singer has a little extra cash in there too, so he helps himself, and that's when he sees another bag, a bigger bag, full of the same thing of what Gabe has just bought. He sits, catches his breath and stares as Singer tries to move, but finally, after an eerie silence of sitting in the dark over a half dead body, Gabe grabs the drugs and shoves them into his coat as well.
Gabe finally hoists himself up into a standing position with aid of the wall and looks down at him, down on so many levels. He stands and just stares for a while, watching as Single feebly tries to get up, as he tries to speak, as he tries to breathe only for it to come out in wheezes. When Gabe decides he can't watch anymore, he sends his foot flying hard into Singer's gut to make him recoil and squeeze his eyes shut.
Gabe is glad to be walking home in the dark. Someone could easily come up and hurt him, but there's no one on the street and there aren't any cars passing by. He sways a little as he walks, wincing and squeezing his fists as he approaches his building, for the feeling is returning but all he can feel is the sting in his knuckles. His head hurts, his knees hurt, his hands hurt, but at least his pocket doesn't feel heavy anymore, even with the gun tucked inside.
When Gabe pushes the door open so hard it slams against the wall, he can hear what must have been a conversation come to an immediate end. He expects someone to yell at him, someone to freak out, but he doesn't even get a peep. As he takes from gun from his inside jacket and drops it down on the kitchen counter, losing himself in the echo of the clinking metal, he can feel all their eyes on him from the living room. But Gabe doesn't speak, doesn't take off his coat, but instead just walks to his bedroom and shuts the door.
It takes so, so much energy to stop himself from doing all of the heroin at once, but he knows a dose so big would kill him. As much as he likes that idea right now, it wipes the temporary smile off his face as he remembers that he's got to wake up tomorrow, he's got to go to work, he's got to explain to Travis what happened.
Gabe almost misses a step when he readies up his needle, and he nearly gives himself a heroin blister under the skin as he shoots as much of it as he's able from the syringe into his vein. Gabe doesn't even watch it, just stares at the wall and pulls it out carelessly when he's done. He pushes his little box and the bag of drugs away from him, dropping the needle inside, and falls from a sitting position to a laying position on his side on the floor.
Gabe can't remember what happens between being awake and being asleep. All he can remember is the numb.
-~*~-
Three days. Three days lost. Three days of Gabe sitting next to his bed, injecting himself with just a quarter of a dose. Three days of Gabe crawling up from the floor and into bed. Three days of the same clothes. Three days of an empty bedroom. Three days of Gabe watching as people come to his door, hesitate, then leave.
Gabe feels numb when he goes to sleep and is numb when he wakes up. His arm aches but in the best way possible. His head doesn't hurt when people slam doors and five hours passes in the slur of five minutes. He's not sure if he's really awake or really asleep, but he keeps waking up in the night and in the day with visions and dreams of blood on his hands.
Three days. Three days gone. It's Friday when Travis finally comes to the door, hesitates, then enters. It's Friday when Travis stops by Gabe's bedside and sits on the edge, looking at his friend who is still in a daze between sober and insane.
"We lost our water," Travis says quietly without even acknowledging the past three days. That's half a week that Gabe can't even remember. "And the heat has gone out."
Gabe turns his head to look at Travis, but he stays slumped up against the head board with his knees loosely up by his chest. He sees how Travis is wearing so many layers of clothes, shaking slightly, looking dirtied up. Water and heat mean nothing to Gabe. He hasn't showered for a week and he can't feel a thing.
"And, um. We know." Gabe looks away. "He was on the news, Gabe," Travis says, keeping his tone just as quiet, nearly apologetic. "The body was identified as Alexander DeLeon. Shit, Gabe, you roughed him up so fucking much."
If Travis thinks this is helping then he's got another thing coming for him, but Gabe stays passive, he keeps his head turned and he closes his eyes. "And Peter came home." His eyes reopen. "He.. He wasn't doing so well, Gabe. He wanted to talk to you. He was crying so much, and. I don't know how to deal with that. He wouldn't tell us what happened. He wanted to see you but you was just sat in here by yourself not speaking a word. Do you remember how to speak, Gabe?"
Gabe swallows a lump in his throat and his insides feel dry. He hasn't eaten. He hasn't drank a thing. All the better for the drugs to get to him faster. His stomach is probably hurting, crying, just like Pete had been, but Gabe can't feel a thing.
Travis lets out a sigh and when he looks up at Gabe, Gabe sees that look on his face from the corner of his eye. It looks like he's regretting what he's about to say, like it's some kind of last resort to get Gabe out of bed, but says it nonetheless. "Brendon's failing." And it's not what Gabe expected. But Travis keeps talking, "The school's getting mad at him. I went lookin' through his school bag and there was this letter from the principal he was meant to give us. Pete wasn' here to sign it. He's failing and they wanna kick him out. He's our boy, Gabe."
When Gabe doesn't move, Travis sighs again. "He's not doin' so well, Gabe," he says, much, much more quietly than the rest. "He hasn't take his meds since you got home that night, covered in... all that. He's a wreck, Gabe. He's -"
Gabe hoists himself up out of bed, not paying attention as Travis quickly stands up as well. He doesn't speak, just watches as Gabe sways and tries to catch his balance. It's been three days since he stood, let alone walked, after all. But Gabe still doesn't make eye contact, so Travis knows it's best if he trails behind him, not saying a word, just watching quietly as Gabe walks out into the main part of the loft.
At first, Gabe doesn't even go near Brendon. He can see the boy hunched up on the sofa by himself, he can hear him sniffling and for the first time in three days, Gabe feels pain in his chest. He walks into the kitchen and sees William suddenly stop looking through the fridge, but Gabe keeps eye contact to a minimum as he carefully lifts his arms to reach the top cupboards for things. William just watches him, a little sadly, a little nervously, but he doesn't speak first, just stays leaning against the fridge door.
"Where's Pete," Gabe mumbles, having to stop, swallow, clear his throat then ask again in order to be heard. "Where's Pete?"
William bites his lip. "Nate's room," he says quietly, "Trying to sleep. I don't know how much luck he's having though." He's quiet for a moment as he watches Gabe pour two bowls of cereal, moving only when Gabe needs to get the milk from the fridge but he's then taken his spot back when Gabe finishes pouring. "What -"
"Tell him to take his medicine," Gabe says quietly, voice still hoarse. He doesn't even care what William was going to say, and instead just goes over to the medicine cabinet to take out Brendon's pills and put them in his pocket. He completely snubs William on his way past, picking up both bowls and two spoons and taking them over to the living room.
With only the floorboards creaking to break the dull silence, aside from the occasional sniffle from Brendon, Gabe starts to miss coming home and finding the stereo on loud, he misses even hearing a giggle or a moan from when William has someone in the bedroom. He'd gladly trade that for the floorboard creaks and the upset sniffles he hears lately.
Brendon looks up when Gabe sits down next to him. Without saying anything, Gabe puts one bowl in Brendon's lap without even asking and then takes a spoonful out of his own; almost forgetting how to swallow it properly and having to cough and pat his chest after just one bite.
He can feel Brendon watching him as he eats and from the corner of his eye he sees the confused eyes behind those tears. Gabe only has another two spoonfuls before he wipes his mouth and puts his bowl aside, then turns to face Brendon.
One hand immediately rises to cup the back of Brendon's neck and the other holds the boy's arm, to pull him closer and indulge in a kiss. It's sweeter than any of the kisses Gabe has given him before, it's deeper, it's more caring, it's more meaningful, it's softer - but Gabe's lips are numb.
Gabe can feel as Brendon goes a little limp in his grip after a while but Gabe doesn't stop kissing. He knows Travis is watching him, he knows William is standing at an awkward distance from Travis and watching too. But he just kisses him, kisses the life out of him, then finally breaks their lips away and holds Brendon close.
"It's gonna get better," he whispers, hidden and muffled in Brendon's neck. He doesn't know if he believes it, in fact, his voice even starts to shake, but it's not two seconds of hesitation later that Brendon hugs him back, even if he's awkwardly twisted so the bowl of cereal in his lap doesn't spill.
When Brendon eats, he eats slowly, and he eats two spoonfuls. Gabe takes his pills from his pocket and places them lightly on Brendon's leg, without even having to say a word about it. Still, Gabe is half finished his cereal before Brendon even touches them, but he finally takes them dry.
"Finish eating," Gabe says softly, the same volume as those hoarse whispers from before. "Finish eating and I'm going to go get dressed." Brendon doesn't ask why and he doesn't pick up his spoon, but Gabe picks his bowl up and puts it on the coffee table before standing up and walking to his bedroom to change from his bloody clothes.
Gabe feels fresher and cleaner when he tugs on a shirt and clean, worn jeans, then a hoodie over that and a jacket over the top. He feels fresher, but he doesn't feel warmer. He doesn't feel colder though. He just. Doesn't feel.
Brendon hasn't touched any more of his cereal but Gabe isn't surprised. He's sat there wiping his eyes with both hands and sniffling again, but there aren't any fresh tears. Travis and William still haven't said a word, only when Gabe helps Brendon up from the sofa and leads him over to the door.
"I've got a date," Travis says, catching Gabe's attention. "I've.. I've got a date with Katy. I don't know if I'm going to be here when you get home."
Gabe smiles weakly, but he nods. He looks down to take Brendon's hand and laces their fingers, not knowing how tightly he's clinging to the boy until Brendon has to flex his fingers to get comfortable. Gabe only looks apologetic, doesn't say a word, and leads him out of the building with their hands tightly tied.
Before Gabe knows it, he finds himself leading Brendon down the street, through the snow and towards Front Park. Brendon seems to squeeze Gabe's hand but he barely feels it; he can feel Brendon's shaking more clearly. But Gabe doesn't let himself take Brendon to where he killed a man just three days ago, he instead takes a turn and they walk another two blocks alongside the park until Brendon can see the waterfront.
When he looks up at Gabe his eyes are questioning, but Gabe keeps walking with his head forward. It's only when they're at the old, dead tree reserve by the waterfront that Gabe starts to slow down, starts to loosen his grip and starts to pay more attention to Brendon than their surroundings.
That being said, when they're close enough to the water, Gabe stops dead in his tracks and drops to sit down on the ground. Brendon looks at him out of confusion, but slowly lowers himself down to sit as well, so Gabe nods towards the water.
"What about it?" Brendon says softly, taking a glance out at the docks and the bridges further down the line. It's definitely not pretty; there's no magical, sparkling moment that hits either of them, it's the same thing they've seen every day. When Brendon used to catch the train up to school from the south, to the school just above Jersey Street that Brendon ended up getting kicked out of, he would pass the water every day. It's not even that great in the summertime.
"It's different," Gabe mumbles, finally letting go of Brendon's hand to rest it in his lap as he crosses his legs. Brendon looks down at the suddenly loss of contact, and even though it takes him a minute or two, he reaches back over to rejoin the hold. "Why didn't you take your pills?" Gabe asks, still looking out at the water.
But Brendon bites his lip, "Why'd you kill somebody?"
Gabe drops his gaze, finally, to look at the ground rather than the water. "You first."
Brendon takes his time to answer. As he looks out at the water to try and think, Gabe turns to watch his expression and when Brendon's lips part the slightest, the thinks the boy understand. It isn't a matter of the water being pretty or new, but it's just something that's been there for so long, but is still somehow different. It's easy, it's simple, it's kind and still. Brendon can think when he looks at the water, he can lose himself, compared to just watching snow crunch under damp shoes day in, day out.
"I didn't want to be fake anymore," Brendon finally whispers, catching Gabe somewhat off guard. He squeezes Brendon's hand, wills him closer, and so finally, Brendon leans into the touch and allows Gabe's arms around him as he rests his head against Gabe's shoulder.
Brendon has always seemed to be the optimistic one, on the outside. He's the one who's smiling, he's more mature than any of them and he's managing to put up with a shitty school life on the side of a shitty home life. But without his medication, Brendon is a different person. He's real, no matter how tragic it may be. He's optimistic with medical aid, but without, he's more of a cynic than Pete, Gabe or Travis put together. He's the one who breaks out into tears, he's the one to take offence easier, he's the one to have outbursts of rage and tears at the same time. But at the same time, he's the only one who isn't bottling everything up or releasing it in a foul way, like how William will fuck and Travis will pop. Brendon is the only real one in the house.
"You weren't there," Gabe finally answers, holding Brendon's head to his shoulder by running his fingers through the boy's hair to stop him looking up. "You weren't there when I found him. You weren't there when I met him. You weren't there when he stuck with me through everything. But he was. He was always there, and now he's not, and there's only one person who I can blame for it. I hold grudges, Brendon," Gabe whispers, turning his head to kiss lightly into the boys hair, squeeze his eyes shut and put on his will not to cry. "I didn't want to think about killing this man for the rest of my life when I could have just gone and done it."
Neither of them find any point in talking any more, so Brendon lets Gabe hold him as they try to hold in their warmth. Every few minutes Gabe will kiss into Brendon's hair, and after ten kisses, Brendon finally lifts his head and kisses Gabe's cheek back. Just for a bit of a thank you. Gabe keeps an arm around Brendon's waist the whole time, a hand still planted against his hip, even as they shift and move, even as they stand up and even as they walk back to the loft.
The only time Gabe takes his spare hand out of his pocket is when they're in the stairwell, when they're half way between the front door and the fourth floor. He drops his hand to his back pocket and reaches for his phone, then holds it out as he and Brendon walk up the stairs. He unlocks the phone but has to stop when they're on the next flat surface of the third floor, and Brendon looks over to see what's wrong.
"Travis called me," Gabe tells him, "Twenty two times. My phone must have been on silent.." Brendon bites his lip and squeezes Gabe's hand, so Gabe quickly puts his phone back in his pocket and starts up the stairs. Without really realising his own movements, Gabe takes them two at a time until he's standing with Brendon at their front door and feeling slightly out of breath. He has to let go of Brendon's hand to slide the door across, but stops frozen in the doorway when he sees Travis standing with his arms around a very shaken William.
"Travis?" Gabe tries warily, his eyes darting from his taller friend to his thinner one. Gabe takes slow, careful steps into the apartment when he realises that William is racking complete sobs against Travis' chest, scrabbling for purchase but not quite seeming able to hold his shoulders. The worst case scenario going through his head is this Alex guy, this bastard has done something to William, so Gabe's shoulders tense and his hands squeeze into fists.
"What'd he do?" Gabe demands, but Travis quickly shakes his head, giving Gabe this warning glare. Gabe frowns again, taking a double take over to the living room where Katy is stood, looking just as shaken, a hand over her mouth and the other fumbling with her cell phone. Gabe relaxes, his eyes darting from one person to the next as he walks closer to Travis and William. "Travis?"
"I didn't - I didn't know, I didn't mean - Gabe don't hate me, I love him, I love him so much, Gabe, I - I," William can only seem to manage an awfully squeaky mix of stop start sentences as he fists in Travis's shirt and buries his head into his shoulder. Gabe opens his mouth to speak but Travis takes a slow, weary look over at the bedroom door and Gabe's face instantly falls.
"Travis -"
"I left, I left, I didn't mean to be gone for long at all, but - but it just happened - A-Alex called and invited me out and I left him alone. Oh my god Gabe, Gabe, I didn't mean to," William sobs, and those last words sends shakes into Gabe's body, it racks his bones and gives his nerves a chance to feel something not too pleasant.
He can't stand listening to this anymore. He's not getting answers to why Travis is swaying, holding William close with a tear running down his cheek while William sobs. It's not giving him answers to why Katy is still here, to why she's crying, to why she's desperately scrolling through her phone to find the number of her friends.
So, swallowing thickly, Gabe walks to the bedroom. He can hear the creaking floorboards of Brendon following him, straying a few feet behind, but the company doesn't lift the weight off his chest. He stops in the door way, looks around to find a mostly empty room, but his eyes fall on Pete. Gabe approaches, kneels down next to his bed where Pete is buried comfortably under the blankets, eyes closed, head on the pillow, fast asleep.
Gabe takes a breath of relief. He glances back at Brendon in the doorway as he touches Pete's shoulder and squeezes lightly.
He squeezes again.
Gabe squeezes yet again, again, and again; his face falling every time. Soon, Gabe is on his feet, breathing suddenly a lot faster as he leans over to shake Pete's shoulders, and that's when it happens.
It's one more frantic shake to wake Pete up when the man's hand falls out from under the blankets. It's when the pill bottle rolls from his palm and as Gabe turns to look, it seems almost in slow motion. He can hear the echo three times louder in his head as the bottle bounces off the floor, rolling until it hits the wall. He can hear the thuds, the echo, but he can't hear a rattle. What he's just watched roll across the bedroom floor is an empty pill bottle of Atavan Halen, the anti-anxiety pills that are supposed to help Pete, not hurt him.
All too suddenly, Gabe screams for someone to call a doctor as he presses his hand so desperately into Pete's neck, scrabbling for a pulse. Nothing. No thump, no bump, no spark of life that Pete has always had hidden under those locks of hair or that unhappy smile.
Gabe looks over at the door where Brendon is stood, hands over his mouth and nose and doubling over. Gabe can see him choke, but he can't hear the sob. He looks back at Pete and pleads for him to wake up, but his own voice is lost to him, he feels his throat vibrate and his lips move but there isn't a single sound in the apartment apart from his own heart beat pounding in his ears, a heart beat that Pete doesn't have.
It takes a lot of energy to get up and walk back out to the loft. He nudges Brendon from the doorway with so little force he barely moves, but Brendon is so shocked, so weak that he nearly falls over. Travis opens his mouth, shakes his head and yells something but Gabe can't hear, Gabe can't feel. It's this new sensation of numb that's so much more horrifying, so much more threatening than the needle in his bedroom. It's the loss of a friend, a man who's been with him for only a few years but has grown so, so close to him in those few. And it's the word loss that brings Gabe back in time to a matter of seconds ago, to shaking Pete only to have him shake, not wake, that makes everything come flooding to Gabe at once.
Sight, sound, strength and touch, Gabe feels like he can move as if he's not swimming underwater anymore, he can move.. But he can move. And it's that word of loss that starts eating Gabe up inside, that makes him yell and throw his fists against the wall, twice, thrice, harder than what he could ever accomplish to Singer's poor, bloodied up face. His punches are so close together that he just ends up making one giant hole in the wall, a hole that he tries to grab onto when the sound comes back, when he hears Travis' talking and William's sobbing and Katy's desperate Fuck, Leighton, I need you to come to Jersey Street over her cell phone. The plaster gives way and Gabe falls, slumped on the floor, finally able to really feel as those tears flood down his cheeks.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 68,689 words • 5201 words this chapter
Warnings: Drug use, sex, swearing, death, violence
Main Pairings: Gabe/Brendon, Travis/William, Travis/Katy, William/Everyone
Background Pairings: William/Tom, William/Suarez, Ryan/Cassadee, Victoria/Leighton, Alicia/Mikey, Bert/Quinn, Jon/Spencer, Gabe/Pete
Disclaimer: All these characters are real life people and not my own. This entire story is fiction; a complete figment of my imagination and so I am not implying that none of this has ever or ever will happen.
Author Note: Christ; I'm so so sorry about the delay on this one. I guess this is also a kind of emotional chapter for me and my girl. All comments are much appreciated. Two more to go!
Previous Parts: Click here (10/12)
Click the banner for a short synopsis/blurb/summary of the fic.
Gabe is sure his heart is beating fast, he's sure that there's a throbbing in his elbows and he's sure that heat is flushing his chest. But he can't really feel it, he can't feel any of it. It's not the cold that makes his shoes damp or his lips blue, it's not the layers of clothing tight around his body, but it's the pills. Gabe doesn't pay attention to it because as far as he's concerned, there's nothing there, so he just walks, numb, with fast steps towards Front Park; a reserve close to the water front.
He tugs his jacket more tightly around himself and stares ahead as the park comes into view. He looks past his fogged breath puffing in front of him as his lungs struggle against the numbness all over, but keeps on walking until he steps foot inside the park. At first he doesn't know what he's looking for, he has to stop, he has to look around. He has that unnerving feeling under all six layers of nothing, the feeling that reminds him that he has no idea what he's about to do next.
Finding someone in Front Park is easier than he ever thought it to be. He knows that there are a few dealers out here, that there are a few homeless and the very occasional jogger, but otherwise it's pretty empty. He still isn't sure what to feel when he passes a building to find someone leaning against the wall with a cigarette in their mouth, hair down to their shoulders and an almost completely blank expression on.
Gabe knows this guy isn't homeless. He knows he's not a worthless addict, and he's definitely not a jogger. He can see it in the way the guy stands, the way he drops his cigarette down and crushes it with force like he's the greatest thing on the planet. He also knows he's a dealer because he knows that height, that shadowed face and the over-confident way he hunches his shoulders, just like the guy Gabe saw running from the alley all those weeks ago.
Gabe approaches without a word and luckily, when the guy hears his footsteps he luckily doesn't run away, especially since Gabe shoves a hand into his pocket. He pulls out all of the money, scrunched up in his hand, and holds it out as he stops and stands a mere foot away. "What've you got?" he mutters, knowing that he's not going to be denied. There's a certain way that Singer's eyes light up when he sees how much cash Gabe is holding.
"What're you looking for?" he asks, smirking as he leans in a little closer to Gabe. Gabe feels sick.
"Smack," he says back, just as quietly but a little more firmly. He hopes that Singer can't see it in his eyes; the way that he looks at him like he's filth, because to Gabe, that's all Singer really is. It only takes a nod for Gabe to hand the cash over as Singer opens up his jacket and digs through his inside pockets before handing to Gabe a little plastic slip with the heroin sealed inside in plastic.
"Nice doin' business," Singer grins as he takes his packet of smokes out again and starts to light one up. Gabe would leave, carry himself home before he has a chance to do anything, but his legs just refuse to move. He can't feel a single bone in his body as he sticks a hand into his jacket, burying the little plastic bag in one of his pockets but letting his hand linger over the handle of the gun.
He watches as Singer takes two blind steps back, then turns around and starts walking away as he holds his newly lit cigarette in his mouth. Only then does Gabe manage to swallow the block in his throat and call, "'M surprised you don't remember me," even if it's subtle and quiet.
Singer only just glances over his shoulder and his eyes widen, just as Gabe tightens his grip around the gun properly flings it from his jacket. He holds it out in front of him and pulls the trigger without even a chance to aim, but he hears Singer shout out a loud curse and stumble against the wall. Gabe's eyes are blinded with a sheen of tears that he can't feel as the bang echoes in his mind, as he takes those furious steps over to where Singer is slumped against the wall, fumbling with his coat to try and get out what Gabe guesses to be a backup gun.
Before Singer even has a chance to close his grip around something, Gabe grabs the collar of his jacket and tugs him up harshly before pushing him back against the ground, hitting his head hard against the concrete around the building. Singer inhales sharply as Gabe drops so a knee is either side of his waist, those tears still blinding as he knocks a clenched fist hard against Singer's jaw.
Three, four, five quick swings later and Gabe has to sit up, breathing harshly as he watches Singer's chest heave as he struggles to breathe, blood dripping from his broken nose and the skin busted on his lip and jaw. He splutters and coughs and drops of blood fly from his mouth, and Gabe can already feeling blood from the wound in Singer's stomach starting to stain his clothes. Gabe doesn't give up though, just whispers harsh words as he grips tightly in Singer's hair, hits his head against the ground again then swings forth another punch to his cheek.
Every breath Singer takes is another twitch of hate sending alarm bells to go off in Gabe's head, which is what gives him the energy for his fists to keep flying. He knees Singer in the gut, right where the wound is and he hears the man choke out some kind of groan, but it's barely audible. When Gabe is finally exhausted, covered in his enemy's blood and when Singer barely has his eyes open, Gabe rips open the man's coat and digs around his pockets.
He first gets his money back, ignoring how his bloodied up fists and fingers put stains on the bills, and instead works on shoving them into his pocket again. Singer has a little extra cash in there too, so he helps himself, and that's when he sees another bag, a bigger bag, full of the same thing of what Gabe has just bought. He sits, catches his breath and stares as Singer tries to move, but finally, after an eerie silence of sitting in the dark over a half dead body, Gabe grabs the drugs and shoves them into his coat as well.
Gabe finally hoists himself up into a standing position with aid of the wall and looks down at him, down on so many levels. He stands and just stares for a while, watching as Single feebly tries to get up, as he tries to speak, as he tries to breathe only for it to come out in wheezes. When Gabe decides he can't watch anymore, he sends his foot flying hard into Singer's gut to make him recoil and squeeze his eyes shut.
Gabe is glad to be walking home in the dark. Someone could easily come up and hurt him, but there's no one on the street and there aren't any cars passing by. He sways a little as he walks, wincing and squeezing his fists as he approaches his building, for the feeling is returning but all he can feel is the sting in his knuckles. His head hurts, his knees hurt, his hands hurt, but at least his pocket doesn't feel heavy anymore, even with the gun tucked inside.
When Gabe pushes the door open so hard it slams against the wall, he can hear what must have been a conversation come to an immediate end. He expects someone to yell at him, someone to freak out, but he doesn't even get a peep. As he takes from gun from his inside jacket and drops it down on the kitchen counter, losing himself in the echo of the clinking metal, he can feel all their eyes on him from the living room. But Gabe doesn't speak, doesn't take off his coat, but instead just walks to his bedroom and shuts the door.
It takes so, so much energy to stop himself from doing all of the heroin at once, but he knows a dose so big would kill him. As much as he likes that idea right now, it wipes the temporary smile off his face as he remembers that he's got to wake up tomorrow, he's got to go to work, he's got to explain to Travis what happened.
Gabe almost misses a step when he readies up his needle, and he nearly gives himself a heroin blister under the skin as he shoots as much of it as he's able from the syringe into his vein. Gabe doesn't even watch it, just stares at the wall and pulls it out carelessly when he's done. He pushes his little box and the bag of drugs away from him, dropping the needle inside, and falls from a sitting position to a laying position on his side on the floor.
Gabe can't remember what happens between being awake and being asleep. All he can remember is the numb.
-~*~-
Three days. Three days lost. Three days of Gabe sitting next to his bed, injecting himself with just a quarter of a dose. Three days of Gabe crawling up from the floor and into bed. Three days of the same clothes. Three days of an empty bedroom. Three days of Gabe watching as people come to his door, hesitate, then leave.
Gabe feels numb when he goes to sleep and is numb when he wakes up. His arm aches but in the best way possible. His head doesn't hurt when people slam doors and five hours passes in the slur of five minutes. He's not sure if he's really awake or really asleep, but he keeps waking up in the night and in the day with visions and dreams of blood on his hands.
Three days. Three days gone. It's Friday when Travis finally comes to the door, hesitates, then enters. It's Friday when Travis stops by Gabe's bedside and sits on the edge, looking at his friend who is still in a daze between sober and insane.
"We lost our water," Travis says quietly without even acknowledging the past three days. That's half a week that Gabe can't even remember. "And the heat has gone out."
Gabe turns his head to look at Travis, but he stays slumped up against the head board with his knees loosely up by his chest. He sees how Travis is wearing so many layers of clothes, shaking slightly, looking dirtied up. Water and heat mean nothing to Gabe. He hasn't showered for a week and he can't feel a thing.
"And, um. We know." Gabe looks away. "He was on the news, Gabe," Travis says, keeping his tone just as quiet, nearly apologetic. "The body was identified as Alexander DeLeon. Shit, Gabe, you roughed him up so fucking much."
If Travis thinks this is helping then he's got another thing coming for him, but Gabe stays passive, he keeps his head turned and he closes his eyes. "And Peter came home." His eyes reopen. "He.. He wasn't doing so well, Gabe. He wanted to talk to you. He was crying so much, and. I don't know how to deal with that. He wouldn't tell us what happened. He wanted to see you but you was just sat in here by yourself not speaking a word. Do you remember how to speak, Gabe?"
Gabe swallows a lump in his throat and his insides feel dry. He hasn't eaten. He hasn't drank a thing. All the better for the drugs to get to him faster. His stomach is probably hurting, crying, just like Pete had been, but Gabe can't feel a thing.
Travis lets out a sigh and when he looks up at Gabe, Gabe sees that look on his face from the corner of his eye. It looks like he's regretting what he's about to say, like it's some kind of last resort to get Gabe out of bed, but says it nonetheless. "Brendon's failing." And it's not what Gabe expected. But Travis keeps talking, "The school's getting mad at him. I went lookin' through his school bag and there was this letter from the principal he was meant to give us. Pete wasn' here to sign it. He's failing and they wanna kick him out. He's our boy, Gabe."
When Gabe doesn't move, Travis sighs again. "He's not doin' so well, Gabe," he says, much, much more quietly than the rest. "He hasn't take his meds since you got home that night, covered in... all that. He's a wreck, Gabe. He's -"
Gabe hoists himself up out of bed, not paying attention as Travis quickly stands up as well. He doesn't speak, just watches as Gabe sways and tries to catch his balance. It's been three days since he stood, let alone walked, after all. But Gabe still doesn't make eye contact, so Travis knows it's best if he trails behind him, not saying a word, just watching quietly as Gabe walks out into the main part of the loft.
At first, Gabe doesn't even go near Brendon. He can see the boy hunched up on the sofa by himself, he can hear him sniffling and for the first time in three days, Gabe feels pain in his chest. He walks into the kitchen and sees William suddenly stop looking through the fridge, but Gabe keeps eye contact to a minimum as he carefully lifts his arms to reach the top cupboards for things. William just watches him, a little sadly, a little nervously, but he doesn't speak first, just stays leaning against the fridge door.
"Where's Pete," Gabe mumbles, having to stop, swallow, clear his throat then ask again in order to be heard. "Where's Pete?"
William bites his lip. "Nate's room," he says quietly, "Trying to sleep. I don't know how much luck he's having though." He's quiet for a moment as he watches Gabe pour two bowls of cereal, moving only when Gabe needs to get the milk from the fridge but he's then taken his spot back when Gabe finishes pouring. "What -"
"Tell him to take his medicine," Gabe says quietly, voice still hoarse. He doesn't even care what William was going to say, and instead just goes over to the medicine cabinet to take out Brendon's pills and put them in his pocket. He completely snubs William on his way past, picking up both bowls and two spoons and taking them over to the living room.
With only the floorboards creaking to break the dull silence, aside from the occasional sniffle from Brendon, Gabe starts to miss coming home and finding the stereo on loud, he misses even hearing a giggle or a moan from when William has someone in the bedroom. He'd gladly trade that for the floorboard creaks and the upset sniffles he hears lately.
Brendon looks up when Gabe sits down next to him. Without saying anything, Gabe puts one bowl in Brendon's lap without even asking and then takes a spoonful out of his own; almost forgetting how to swallow it properly and having to cough and pat his chest after just one bite.
He can feel Brendon watching him as he eats and from the corner of his eye he sees the confused eyes behind those tears. Gabe only has another two spoonfuls before he wipes his mouth and puts his bowl aside, then turns to face Brendon.
One hand immediately rises to cup the back of Brendon's neck and the other holds the boy's arm, to pull him closer and indulge in a kiss. It's sweeter than any of the kisses Gabe has given him before, it's deeper, it's more caring, it's more meaningful, it's softer - but Gabe's lips are numb.
Gabe can feel as Brendon goes a little limp in his grip after a while but Gabe doesn't stop kissing. He knows Travis is watching him, he knows William is standing at an awkward distance from Travis and watching too. But he just kisses him, kisses the life out of him, then finally breaks their lips away and holds Brendon close.
"It's gonna get better," he whispers, hidden and muffled in Brendon's neck. He doesn't know if he believes it, in fact, his voice even starts to shake, but it's not two seconds of hesitation later that Brendon hugs him back, even if he's awkwardly twisted so the bowl of cereal in his lap doesn't spill.
When Brendon eats, he eats slowly, and he eats two spoonfuls. Gabe takes his pills from his pocket and places them lightly on Brendon's leg, without even having to say a word about it. Still, Gabe is half finished his cereal before Brendon even touches them, but he finally takes them dry.
"Finish eating," Gabe says softly, the same volume as those hoarse whispers from before. "Finish eating and I'm going to go get dressed." Brendon doesn't ask why and he doesn't pick up his spoon, but Gabe picks his bowl up and puts it on the coffee table before standing up and walking to his bedroom to change from his bloody clothes.
Gabe feels fresher and cleaner when he tugs on a shirt and clean, worn jeans, then a hoodie over that and a jacket over the top. He feels fresher, but he doesn't feel warmer. He doesn't feel colder though. He just. Doesn't feel.
Brendon hasn't touched any more of his cereal but Gabe isn't surprised. He's sat there wiping his eyes with both hands and sniffling again, but there aren't any fresh tears. Travis and William still haven't said a word, only when Gabe helps Brendon up from the sofa and leads him over to the door.
"I've got a date," Travis says, catching Gabe's attention. "I've.. I've got a date with Katy. I don't know if I'm going to be here when you get home."
Gabe smiles weakly, but he nods. He looks down to take Brendon's hand and laces their fingers, not knowing how tightly he's clinging to the boy until Brendon has to flex his fingers to get comfortable. Gabe only looks apologetic, doesn't say a word, and leads him out of the building with their hands tightly tied.
Before Gabe knows it, he finds himself leading Brendon down the street, through the snow and towards Front Park. Brendon seems to squeeze Gabe's hand but he barely feels it; he can feel Brendon's shaking more clearly. But Gabe doesn't let himself take Brendon to where he killed a man just three days ago, he instead takes a turn and they walk another two blocks alongside the park until Brendon can see the waterfront.
When he looks up at Gabe his eyes are questioning, but Gabe keeps walking with his head forward. It's only when they're at the old, dead tree reserve by the waterfront that Gabe starts to slow down, starts to loosen his grip and starts to pay more attention to Brendon than their surroundings.
That being said, when they're close enough to the water, Gabe stops dead in his tracks and drops to sit down on the ground. Brendon looks at him out of confusion, but slowly lowers himself down to sit as well, so Gabe nods towards the water.
"What about it?" Brendon says softly, taking a glance out at the docks and the bridges further down the line. It's definitely not pretty; there's no magical, sparkling moment that hits either of them, it's the same thing they've seen every day. When Brendon used to catch the train up to school from the south, to the school just above Jersey Street that Brendon ended up getting kicked out of, he would pass the water every day. It's not even that great in the summertime.
"It's different," Gabe mumbles, finally letting go of Brendon's hand to rest it in his lap as he crosses his legs. Brendon looks down at the suddenly loss of contact, and even though it takes him a minute or two, he reaches back over to rejoin the hold. "Why didn't you take your pills?" Gabe asks, still looking out at the water.
But Brendon bites his lip, "Why'd you kill somebody?"
Gabe drops his gaze, finally, to look at the ground rather than the water. "You first."
Brendon takes his time to answer. As he looks out at the water to try and think, Gabe turns to watch his expression and when Brendon's lips part the slightest, the thinks the boy understand. It isn't a matter of the water being pretty or new, but it's just something that's been there for so long, but is still somehow different. It's easy, it's simple, it's kind and still. Brendon can think when he looks at the water, he can lose himself, compared to just watching snow crunch under damp shoes day in, day out.
"I didn't want to be fake anymore," Brendon finally whispers, catching Gabe somewhat off guard. He squeezes Brendon's hand, wills him closer, and so finally, Brendon leans into the touch and allows Gabe's arms around him as he rests his head against Gabe's shoulder.
Brendon has always seemed to be the optimistic one, on the outside. He's the one who's smiling, he's more mature than any of them and he's managing to put up with a shitty school life on the side of a shitty home life. But without his medication, Brendon is a different person. He's real, no matter how tragic it may be. He's optimistic with medical aid, but without, he's more of a cynic than Pete, Gabe or Travis put together. He's the one who breaks out into tears, he's the one to take offence easier, he's the one to have outbursts of rage and tears at the same time. But at the same time, he's the only one who isn't bottling everything up or releasing it in a foul way, like how William will fuck and Travis will pop. Brendon is the only real one in the house.
"You weren't there," Gabe finally answers, holding Brendon's head to his shoulder by running his fingers through the boy's hair to stop him looking up. "You weren't there when I found him. You weren't there when I met him. You weren't there when he stuck with me through everything. But he was. He was always there, and now he's not, and there's only one person who I can blame for it. I hold grudges, Brendon," Gabe whispers, turning his head to kiss lightly into the boys hair, squeeze his eyes shut and put on his will not to cry. "I didn't want to think about killing this man for the rest of my life when I could have just gone and done it."
Neither of them find any point in talking any more, so Brendon lets Gabe hold him as they try to hold in their warmth. Every few minutes Gabe will kiss into Brendon's hair, and after ten kisses, Brendon finally lifts his head and kisses Gabe's cheek back. Just for a bit of a thank you. Gabe keeps an arm around Brendon's waist the whole time, a hand still planted against his hip, even as they shift and move, even as they stand up and even as they walk back to the loft.
The only time Gabe takes his spare hand out of his pocket is when they're in the stairwell, when they're half way between the front door and the fourth floor. He drops his hand to his back pocket and reaches for his phone, then holds it out as he and Brendon walk up the stairs. He unlocks the phone but has to stop when they're on the next flat surface of the third floor, and Brendon looks over to see what's wrong.
"Travis called me," Gabe tells him, "Twenty two times. My phone must have been on silent.." Brendon bites his lip and squeezes Gabe's hand, so Gabe quickly puts his phone back in his pocket and starts up the stairs. Without really realising his own movements, Gabe takes them two at a time until he's standing with Brendon at their front door and feeling slightly out of breath. He has to let go of Brendon's hand to slide the door across, but stops frozen in the doorway when he sees Travis standing with his arms around a very shaken William.
"Travis?" Gabe tries warily, his eyes darting from his taller friend to his thinner one. Gabe takes slow, careful steps into the apartment when he realises that William is racking complete sobs against Travis' chest, scrabbling for purchase but not quite seeming able to hold his shoulders. The worst case scenario going through his head is this Alex guy, this bastard has done something to William, so Gabe's shoulders tense and his hands squeeze into fists.
"What'd he do?" Gabe demands, but Travis quickly shakes his head, giving Gabe this warning glare. Gabe frowns again, taking a double take over to the living room where Katy is stood, looking just as shaken, a hand over her mouth and the other fumbling with her cell phone. Gabe relaxes, his eyes darting from one person to the next as he walks closer to Travis and William. "Travis?"
"I didn't - I didn't know, I didn't mean - Gabe don't hate me, I love him, I love him so much, Gabe, I - I," William can only seem to manage an awfully squeaky mix of stop start sentences as he fists in Travis's shirt and buries his head into his shoulder. Gabe opens his mouth to speak but Travis takes a slow, weary look over at the bedroom door and Gabe's face instantly falls.
"Travis -"
"I left, I left, I didn't mean to be gone for long at all, but - but it just happened - A-Alex called and invited me out and I left him alone. Oh my god Gabe, Gabe, I didn't mean to," William sobs, and those last words sends shakes into Gabe's body, it racks his bones and gives his nerves a chance to feel something not too pleasant.
He can't stand listening to this anymore. He's not getting answers to why Travis is swaying, holding William close with a tear running down his cheek while William sobs. It's not giving him answers to why Katy is still here, to why she's crying, to why she's desperately scrolling through her phone to find the number of her friends.
So, swallowing thickly, Gabe walks to the bedroom. He can hear the creaking floorboards of Brendon following him, straying a few feet behind, but the company doesn't lift the weight off his chest. He stops in the door way, looks around to find a mostly empty room, but his eyes fall on Pete. Gabe approaches, kneels down next to his bed where Pete is buried comfortably under the blankets, eyes closed, head on the pillow, fast asleep.
Gabe takes a breath of relief. He glances back at Brendon in the doorway as he touches Pete's shoulder and squeezes lightly.
He squeezes again.
Gabe squeezes yet again, again, and again; his face falling every time. Soon, Gabe is on his feet, breathing suddenly a lot faster as he leans over to shake Pete's shoulders, and that's when it happens.
It's one more frantic shake to wake Pete up when the man's hand falls out from under the blankets. It's when the pill bottle rolls from his palm and as Gabe turns to look, it seems almost in slow motion. He can hear the echo three times louder in his head as the bottle bounces off the floor, rolling until it hits the wall. He can hear the thuds, the echo, but he can't hear a rattle. What he's just watched roll across the bedroom floor is an empty pill bottle of Atavan Halen, the anti-anxiety pills that are supposed to help Pete, not hurt him.
All too suddenly, Gabe screams for someone to call a doctor as he presses his hand so desperately into Pete's neck, scrabbling for a pulse. Nothing. No thump, no bump, no spark of life that Pete has always had hidden under those locks of hair or that unhappy smile.
Gabe looks over at the door where Brendon is stood, hands over his mouth and nose and doubling over. Gabe can see him choke, but he can't hear the sob. He looks back at Pete and pleads for him to wake up, but his own voice is lost to him, he feels his throat vibrate and his lips move but there isn't a single sound in the apartment apart from his own heart beat pounding in his ears, a heart beat that Pete doesn't have.
It takes a lot of energy to get up and walk back out to the loft. He nudges Brendon from the doorway with so little force he barely moves, but Brendon is so shocked, so weak that he nearly falls over. Travis opens his mouth, shakes his head and yells something but Gabe can't hear, Gabe can't feel. It's this new sensation of numb that's so much more horrifying, so much more threatening than the needle in his bedroom. It's the loss of a friend, a man who's been with him for only a few years but has grown so, so close to him in those few. And it's the word loss that brings Gabe back in time to a matter of seconds ago, to shaking Pete only to have him shake, not wake, that makes everything come flooding to Gabe at once.
Sight, sound, strength and touch, Gabe feels like he can move as if he's not swimming underwater anymore, he can move.. But he can move. And it's that word of loss that starts eating Gabe up inside, that makes him yell and throw his fists against the wall, twice, thrice, harder than what he could ever accomplish to Singer's poor, bloodied up face. His punches are so close together that he just ends up making one giant hole in the wall, a hole that he tries to grab onto when the sound comes back, when he hears Travis' talking and William's sobbing and Katy's desperate Fuck, Leighton, I need you to come to Jersey Street over her cell phone. The plaster gives way and Gabe falls, slumped on the floor, finally able to really feel as those tears flood down his cheeks.