Breaking Habits (you don't want to know) 13
Title: Breaking Habits (you don't want to know) - 13
Author: minus_four
Rating: Hard R (language, content)
Pairing: William Beckett/Ryan Ross and William/Gabe Saporta
POV: 3rd
Summary: William's fighting his demons in rehab. All too familiar with the path of self destruction drugs and alcohol can lead to, Ryan visits him (like, a lot). And then Gabe shows up. “I can’t be that, Bilvy. I won’t.”
Disclaimer: I really, really hope this never happened. Title belongs to TAI's 'Bulls in Brooklyn'.
Warnings: Addiction, withdrawal and everything that goes with it.
Author Notes: My icon is completely inappropriate for this chapter, but I can't not use my new icon lol
Uno.Dos.Tres.Cuatro.Cinco.Seis.Siete.Ocho.Nuevo.Diez. Once.Doce.
“Bilvy, you fucked Ryan.”
William felt sick. The words reverberated around his head, echoing and repeating themselves in the silence that followed as he stared at Gabe for what seemed like an age. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t what he could say. It wasn’t as though William could deny it, or that he should, even. What Gabe said was true; he had fucked Ryan. Fucked him to forget.
The way Ryan had been so understanding, and the closeness William had developed with the younger boy had made it easier for Bill to accept what had happened and start moving on from it; easier to stop the all too familiar feeling of self-hate from creeping into his consciousness as a result of his actions. But the way Gabe had said the words, so bluntly and as though he was repulsed by them, as though William had done something dirty, William couldn’t help but start to feel the exact same way about it. He had done something horrible and dirty - not because he’d had sex with Ryan, but because he’d used Ryan, treated him as a means to an end. Like a fucking drug to be used and abused. One more thing to be ashamed of; one more act to add to the very long, and ever growing, list.
Gabe didn’t seem angry, but that just made William feel even worse. It was as though Gabe didn’t really care, as though he was just disappointed in his friend. Just. Friend. The two words made Bill feel even sicker if that was possible, like his insides were twisting in knots. He’d finally figured out what he wanted, who he wanted, and somehow found the courage to take the chance and go all the way to New York.... stupid, William thought to himself. Another mistake. One more fuck up.
Shit. William didn’t want to be there anymore, didn’t want to have to answer Gabe. He just wanted to disappear. But...
“Yes,” the word came from William’s lips, quiet but definite. “We had sex,” he added, voice still tainted with shame but with a little resolve coming from somewhere inside Bill to make it clear to Gabe that it had been Ryan’s choice too. It wasn’t as though William had held Ryan down and forced himself on the younger male. No matter how they felt about it now, or even pretty much straight after the fact, at the time, in the moment, they’d both wanted it.
“When?” at Gabe’s question William knew for sure that the older man hadn’t found out from Ryan himself. Not that Bill had actually thought Ryan would do that, tell Gabe in an act of spite, not after his words - still so supportive, still so kind, still - when he’d left William that day. He must have told someone though, William reasoned. It wasn’t as though Bill himself had told anyone, not even Sisky. He hadn’t exactly felt like randomly bringing up the subject. In fact, he’d leaned more towards trying to forget.
Damn. Gabe’s statement had gotten William so spun that he kept losing track of the fact that he was actually in a conversation with Gabe, there and then, and his head was stuck in the past.
“It was -” William swallowed hard, the opportunity to lie to Gabe suddenly seeming really, really tempting. “It was after you left.”
“Well yeah, but - oh,” Gabe paused, letting out a quick bark of humourless laughter. “Right after I left, Bill?” William nodded, inaudibly mouthing a ‘yes’. “Straight after I left, right after I told you I thought you needed time to yourself, to figure out what you really wanted? My words meant that much to you, did they?” he finished sarcastically, breathing out a laugh as he shook his head. “Nice, Bilvy.”
“Gabe -” William almost choked on the syllable but he had to get it out, he had to... he had to make Gabe understand. This wasn’t going right. Everything was getting fucked up. Things weren’t supposed to be like this. If he could just explain... suddenly William found himself wishing he had those letters with him, all those carefully thought out words about what Gabe had said and how Bill was doing that, trying to change, trying to be better. But they were all gone, and when Gabe was looking at him like that William just couldn’t summon up the strength to call them back into his consciousness. “You don’t understand,” he said with a tone in his voice almost edging on desperation, grasping at words. Bill Beckett, a fucking lyricist, drowning in words and unable to string them together properly. Cue the slow, mocking applause.
“No, I really don’t,” Gabe shook his head again, that disappointed tone back in his words, sighing a little as silence stretched between the two men once more.
“How did you find out about, um, you know,” William mumbled the last part, not wanting to say the words himself but curious as to how Gabe had even found out if Ryan hadn’t told him. “And does everyone know?” he asked, hating himself a little more for needing to ask that second part.
“No. There was a rumour going that you and Ryan had fucked around, but most people ignored it seeing as it’s also been said in various circles that Bill Beckett disappeared on a Buddhist retreat, that he’s in England working on a novel, and - my personal favorite - that he’s been abducted by aliens,” Gabe said with a shrug. “Safe to say no one really paid attention to the Ryan thing. Except I knew the second I heard it that it was true,” he said, eyes still firmly fixed on William’s.
“We weren’t fucking around, Gabe,” Bill was surprised himself by the firmness in his voice. “We had sex. Once. It didn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Gabe said straight away, his tone almost one of nonchalance until he spoke again regret and sadness evident with his next words. “And that’s why I can’t do this with you Bill. I just can’t. I can’t become that, I won’t let myself be that.”
“That?” William echoed quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer.
“Used,” Gabe told him, wincing inwardly as he watched William flinch a little at the word but forcing himself to keep up his walls, stopping himself from just pulling Bill into his arms the way he so badly wanted to.
“I -” William took in a slightly shay breath as he tried to steady himself, keep it together. “This isn’t... This isn’t that, Gabe, it’s not anywhere close to that. You’re...”
“What, Bill?” Gabe asked softly, his resolve slipping away every second he had to sit in front of William when the boy looked so hurt, so broken; lost. “Another distraction? A different kind of fix?” he made himself say the words. Gabe had to say them - for both their sakes, he told himself, not quite believing it yet despite having had weeks to convince himself. “I can’t be that, Bilvy. I won’t.”
“It’s not the same Gabe. It’s not,” William paused, fingers gripping a crease in his jeans as he concentrated on not letting himself cry. He had to hold it together so he could make Gabe understand. He had to make Gabe understand. “This isn’t just about physical stuff, and it’s not about forgetting. I want...” William shifted slightly closer to Gabe, speaking quietly but firmly as the words came to him. “One of the most important parts about getting clean and staying that way is about goals,” he explained. “Some people have jobs to get back to, families... when you asked me what I really wanted I didn’t know. But I do now; I know what my goal is. You said I shouldn’t get clean for you or anyone else, but it is for me because I want you to be proud of me, I want you trust me again, I want -” William paused, smiling a little in spite of the situation. “I feel...” he faltered as Gabe looked away, looked down at his hands, expression pretty damn clear. “You don’t - You don’t believe me, do you?” Bill asked, voice just a shade or two above a whisper, willing himself to not cry. To just not cry. “You don’t trust me,” he added, thinking back to earlier that evening, how Gabe had yelled at him when he gave that guy directions.
“No, I don’t,” Gabe said simply, forcing himself to look up and meet William’s eyes and wishing immediately that he’d let his cowardice win out, because the expression on Bill’s face was almost - almost enough to break him. Not quite, though.
Addicts, Gabe knew, could be the greatest liars in the world. If they needed a fix they might go into a hospital and bullshit their way into getting a hold of some drugs. If they needed money they could easily tell you some crap about why they needed it, some sob story that wasn’t even remotely close to true. And the way Gabe saw it, if William needed to feel loved, or wanted, or that physical closeness to help him forget, someone to fuck with to make him stop thinking about getting fucked up, he could say anything. He could say he loved Gabe and wanted to be with him or anything else and it wouldn’t necessarily be true. Bill could so easily use Gabe like he’d used drugs, and used Ryan, but Gabe wasn’t going to take that chance. He couldn’t take the chance.
Gabe might have hated himself for feeling this way about William, about Bilvy for fuck’s sake, but he couldn’t help it. Because Gabe knew that if he went into that, let himself fall in love with William, and it turned out to be fake, it would just destroy him.
“But -” William began, whatever was going to follow dying before it reached his mouth.
“I love you, Bilvy, you know that,” Gabe started filling the silence, his tone almost cautious. William just let out a sound that might have been him choking back a laugh, or a sob. Gabe knew the feeling. “I’m still here for you, as your friend, I promise you that,” Gabe said firmly, leaning forward a little as William’s gaze slipped slightly over Gabe’s shoulder, as though he was having trouble focusing. “Please, Bill,” Gabe felt like he could cry. He almost wanted to, because this wasn’t right, he knew this wasn’t right but he didn’t know how to do this differently, he couldn’t. “Hey,” Gabe reached out to touch William’s arm only to find the younger man practically jump from his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he searched the large space of Gabe’s apartment with his eyes, though for what Gabe didn’t know. Probably a way out of this, Gabe realised sadly. That’s what he was searching for, running things through his mind and trying to convince himself that this wasn’t the right thing, wasn’t the right way to handle this.
“I have to go,” William said almost casually, as though nothing had happened, nothing had been said, like he’d just popped in for a coffee and had to be on his way. “I - I guess I’ll see you around,” he somehow summoned up a small smile from nowhere that almost could have passed for the real thing if his eyes didn’t give it all away.
“Where are - I mean, you can’t, Bill,” Gabe stood up as well, putting them on an equal level. “Not alone, not when you’re... upset,” he finished, thinking to himself what an understatement that probably was. And you did that he reminded himself. “Just wait, and I’ll call Sisky and he can come here or - or I can go with you to find him,” Gabe was suddenly bordering on panic, for some reason, because William looked and sounded too calm. It wasn’t right. Nothing had been right since they’d gotten back to the apartment.
“I’ll call him,” William nodded, backing away towards the door even as he spoke. “I know this area pretty well, remember? I don’t need a babysitter,” he laughed. Bill knew this wasn’t quite right, that he was somehow just keeping it together enough for now but below the strange calmness and normalcy that had taken over his consciousness William kind of felt like he was a stretching rubber band: Just about ready to snap. He had to get out, the thought resurfaced in his mind as Gabe walked quickly around him, standing in front of the door, hands raised in a placating gesture.
William couldn’t stay there anymore - couldn’t Gabe see that?
“Just - come sit back down,” Gabe coaxed, walking forward towards Bill and smiling as the younger male moved in front of him, going back to sit down on the couch and straight away dropping this gaze to his hands, not looking at Gabe. “Yeah,” Gabe said almost to himself really as he patted his pockets to find his cell but had to glance around the room instead, seeing it over on the kitchen counter and walking on over there.
He heard the click of the door and turned in a split second, kicking himself for even taking his eyes off of William, then even harder for wasting a few seconds on that pointless act before running back towards the door, phone clutched forgotten in his fingers as he fumbled with the latch.
Throwing the door open and ignoring the way it banged against the wall, Gabe looked down the hallway, his breaths quickening further in panic as he stared at the little electronic panel above the elevator doors, the numbers indicating that the elevator was heading down already.
“Shit,” Gabe breathed out, just trying to think for a second before emotion took over. “Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his hand against the wall as hard as he could.
No, he couldn’t freak out, Gabe told himself as he took a deep breath in a pretty much futile attempt to calm himself down. Snapping himself back into some semblance of a rational human being, Gabe checked his hoodie pocket for his keys before pulling the door shut. As he started down the corridor Gabe was already finding the right number in his cell and putting the phone to his ear, murmuring under his breath; pickuppickuppickup.
“Sisky?” Gabe said as soon as the dial tone was cut off. “No,” he punched his finger into the elevator’s ‘down’ button a dozen times, as if it might make the damn thing just magically get there sooner, before speaking again, his voice laced with guilt. “No man, everything is definitely not okay.”
William was not okay.
That false sense of holding it all together somehow had faded as soon as William had left Gabe’s apartment, leaving him completely once he’d lost himself round a few corners and slipped into some random alleyway just to let himself be for a second, just to try and gather himself together. In fact, the opposite happened.
He’d fallen apart. Just a little - or maybe a lot, stuff wasn’t really making a whole lot of sense to William just then. But enough, anyway. Enough to make Bill believe, well and truly, that he might be about to fucking lose it. And he didn’t care.
Why should he care? William asked himself as he sank down to his knees, crumpling a little to end up leaning back against the wall. He tried to care, and it turned out... like this. Here. William had cared about Gabe, and taking this chance, and getting clean and getting better and... what for? Bill actually laughed out loud as he thought that. He could spend his whole life staying clean and trying so damn hard all the time, only to have everyone just waiting for him to fuck up again. Gabe was never going to really trust him ever again, that seemed pretty fucking clear. Even the band were always going to be watching William, waiting for him to slip, expecting it. So what was the fucking point in trying?
Somewhere, behind the sea of emotions and words that just flooded his whole mind just then, William knew, he did know that he was spiralling into a dark state of mind full of fear and self loathing and just not caring, but that was just it. He didn’t care. William was simply past caring at that point. It hurt too much to care. It hurt that he had to face this struggle against himself for the rest of his life, and he was already tired. It hurt to know that Gabe couldn’t trust him anymore. Not enough, anyway, not enough for either of them. William wanted to scream, but even more than that he just wanted to make the pain go away. He was tired.
The city was still wide awake though, the city that never sleeps - in some places at least. And Bill knew those places. He knew exactly where to go.
Gabe had been in the elevator, willing the thing to go faster, when Sisky had told him it straight. He’d told the young bassist the gist of what had happened, about how he’d rejected William and the singer had started acting strangely, and Sisky had listened pretty patiently until Gabe talking about how they just had to find Bill, that the details weren’t important.
“Not important?” Sisky yelled. Gabe wasn’t used to hearing Sisky sound like that. He’d heard the younger man shout more times than he could count, usually in excitement or just for the sake of it and the fact that there was altogether too much silence around wherever they were. He’d never heard Adam T. Siska sound so purely angry before. “How the fuck is that ‘not important?”
“Sisk-” Gabe started to speak but never got further than that first syllable before Sisky interrupted him.
“No Gabe. You don’t get to say the fucking details aren’t important and make out like this isn’t your fault,” Gabe swallowed hard at those words; slightly taken aback that Sisky was actually saying it like that. But then again, it was Bill they were talking about, and Sisky was already starting to lose his mind a little because he’d borrowed someone’s cell so he could already call William, putting the second phone to his free ear and ignoring the strange looks his friends had given him. It was so much more important, not to mention fucking scary, that Bill wasn’t picking up. “If you can’t control yourself enough to actually think about what you’re saying to a recovering addict, then you don’t get to suddenly act like you care just because you’ve realised you went too far,” Sisky’s voice became even more heated if that were possible as he yelled his last words. “You fucked up Gabe, and Bilvy’s missing, and if anything happens to him I swear -” Sisky broke off and Gabe heard a shuddering breath down the line as the bassist composed himself and Gabe took the opportunity to speak.
“I didn’t mean -” Gabe stopped, realising that he really couldn’t say anything to make this okay. Not to Sisky. “Can I - I need to help. What -”
“No,” Sisky cut him off, tone cold. “You’ve done enough.”
After leaving voicemails on William’s phone and a text message detailing where they staying in case Bill had forgotten - or was too out of it and he could at least show a cab driver, Sisky thought reluctantly - he’d just been going from place to place, just searching the area for his best friend. Sisky knew how likely it was that he’d actually find the singer before he wanted to be found - if he did - but he couldn’t help himself. There was no way he could just sit in their hotel room and wait when Bill could be out there, somewhere, doing God knows what.
So Sisky had just gone to different bars, places he knew Bill used to go to a lot, and knew why. He didn’t want to think like that, it made him feel sick to think like that, but Sisky knew he had to. He knew that if William wasn’t answering his calls then he didn’t want to be found, and there had to be a reason why.
Eventually, though, Sisky ran out of places to go and tried to face the fact that it might be time to call the police. Or call someone, at least. Despite his refusal of help from one Gabriel Saporta, Sisky honestly felt like he was at breaking point. He was scared out of his mind, scared for Bill, scared for just not knowing. It was too much.
One hour, Sisky told himself as he made his way up to their hotel room. And if William hadn’t shown up or called by then - Well, he’d do something, Sisky resolved as he opened the door. He didn’t know what yet, but just... something.
He was still trying to think what that something would be whilst heading for the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face in some attempt to wake himself up when Sisky jolted to a stop as the sound of glass being knocked over onto the bathroom tile reached his ears before he even realised he’d kicked the bottle over. And it was a bottle, Sisky noted as he looked down, suddenly completely awake. An empty bottle that used to contain some obscure Russian brand of vodka, too much to be empty, but didn’t anymore. Sisky wasn’t even sure what had been in the small clear plastic bag that lay crumpled next to his foot, but if the specks of white powder were anything to go by...
Fuck, Sisky cursed himself as he suddenly became conscious that he hadn’t even checked the place when he’d gone in. He’d just assumed... Sisky turned around and ran the few steps out and around the corner slightly to where the two queen sized beds were. On the flight over he’d joked with Bill, asking him whether queen sized would be alright and jumping in before the older boy could even speak, saying that of course Bilvy would be right at home on a bed for a queen. It had been funny at the time, anyway; an attempt to take William’s mind off Gabe. And now Sisky’s mind was filled with the image in front of him and the possibilities it presented.
Curled up in the corner of the room, in the small space between the bed and the wall, was the somehow tiny-looking form of William Beckett. One leg was drawn up to his chest, arm held loosely around it, but the other was twisted almost awkwardly under the bed as the singer’s body lay slumped slightly to the side, head resting on his other arm which was stretched out across the mattress. He looked like he might have been sleeping. If it wasn’t for the somewhat odd position, and the things Sisky had found, he could have been sleeping.
Swearing under his breath before offering up a silent prayer to whatever was up there watching, Sisky took the few steps forward, cell phone already in hand, and dropped to his knees in front of William.
Author: minus_four
Rating: Hard R (language, content)
Pairing: William Beckett/Ryan Ross and William/Gabe Saporta
POV: 3rd
Summary: William's fighting his demons in rehab. All too familiar with the path of self destruction drugs and alcohol can lead to, Ryan visits him (like, a lot). And then Gabe shows up. “I can’t be that, Bilvy. I won’t.”
Disclaimer: I really, really hope this never happened. Title belongs to TAI's 'Bulls in Brooklyn'.
Warnings: Addiction, withdrawal and everything that goes with it.
Author Notes: My icon is completely inappropriate for this chapter, but I can't not use my new icon lol
Uno.Dos.Tres.Cuatro.Cinco.Seis.Siete.Ocho.Nuevo.Diez. Once.Doce.
“Bilvy, you fucked Ryan.”
William felt sick. The words reverberated around his head, echoing and repeating themselves in the silence that followed as he stared at Gabe for what seemed like an age. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t what he could say. It wasn’t as though William could deny it, or that he should, even. What Gabe said was true; he had fucked Ryan. Fucked him to forget.
The way Ryan had been so understanding, and the closeness William had developed with the younger boy had made it easier for Bill to accept what had happened and start moving on from it; easier to stop the all too familiar feeling of self-hate from creeping into his consciousness as a result of his actions. But the way Gabe had said the words, so bluntly and as though he was repulsed by them, as though William had done something dirty, William couldn’t help but start to feel the exact same way about it. He had done something horrible and dirty - not because he’d had sex with Ryan, but because he’d used Ryan, treated him as a means to an end. Like a fucking drug to be used and abused. One more thing to be ashamed of; one more act to add to the very long, and ever growing, list.
Gabe didn’t seem angry, but that just made William feel even worse. It was as though Gabe didn’t really care, as though he was just disappointed in his friend. Just. Friend. The two words made Bill feel even sicker if that was possible, like his insides were twisting in knots. He’d finally figured out what he wanted, who he wanted, and somehow found the courage to take the chance and go all the way to New York.... stupid, William thought to himself. Another mistake. One more fuck up.
Shit. William didn’t want to be there anymore, didn’t want to have to answer Gabe. He just wanted to disappear. But...
“Yes,” the word came from William’s lips, quiet but definite. “We had sex,” he added, voice still tainted with shame but with a little resolve coming from somewhere inside Bill to make it clear to Gabe that it had been Ryan’s choice too. It wasn’t as though William had held Ryan down and forced himself on the younger male. No matter how they felt about it now, or even pretty much straight after the fact, at the time, in the moment, they’d both wanted it.
“When?” at Gabe’s question William knew for sure that the older man hadn’t found out from Ryan himself. Not that Bill had actually thought Ryan would do that, tell Gabe in an act of spite, not after his words - still so supportive, still so kind, still - when he’d left William that day. He must have told someone though, William reasoned. It wasn’t as though Bill himself had told anyone, not even Sisky. He hadn’t exactly felt like randomly bringing up the subject. In fact, he’d leaned more towards trying to forget.
Damn. Gabe’s statement had gotten William so spun that he kept losing track of the fact that he was actually in a conversation with Gabe, there and then, and his head was stuck in the past.
“It was -” William swallowed hard, the opportunity to lie to Gabe suddenly seeming really, really tempting. “It was after you left.”
“Well yeah, but - oh,” Gabe paused, letting out a quick bark of humourless laughter. “Right after I left, Bill?” William nodded, inaudibly mouthing a ‘yes’. “Straight after I left, right after I told you I thought you needed time to yourself, to figure out what you really wanted? My words meant that much to you, did they?” he finished sarcastically, breathing out a laugh as he shook his head. “Nice, Bilvy.”
“Gabe -” William almost choked on the syllable but he had to get it out, he had to... he had to make Gabe understand. This wasn’t going right. Everything was getting fucked up. Things weren’t supposed to be like this. If he could just explain... suddenly William found himself wishing he had those letters with him, all those carefully thought out words about what Gabe had said and how Bill was doing that, trying to change, trying to be better. But they were all gone, and when Gabe was looking at him like that William just couldn’t summon up the strength to call them back into his consciousness. “You don’t understand,” he said with a tone in his voice almost edging on desperation, grasping at words. Bill Beckett, a fucking lyricist, drowning in words and unable to string them together properly. Cue the slow, mocking applause.
“No, I really don’t,” Gabe shook his head again, that disappointed tone back in his words, sighing a little as silence stretched between the two men once more.
“How did you find out about, um, you know,” William mumbled the last part, not wanting to say the words himself but curious as to how Gabe had even found out if Ryan hadn’t told him. “And does everyone know?” he asked, hating himself a little more for needing to ask that second part.
“No. There was a rumour going that you and Ryan had fucked around, but most people ignored it seeing as it’s also been said in various circles that Bill Beckett disappeared on a Buddhist retreat, that he’s in England working on a novel, and - my personal favorite - that he’s been abducted by aliens,” Gabe said with a shrug. “Safe to say no one really paid attention to the Ryan thing. Except I knew the second I heard it that it was true,” he said, eyes still firmly fixed on William’s.
“We weren’t fucking around, Gabe,” Bill was surprised himself by the firmness in his voice. “We had sex. Once. It didn’t mean anything.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Gabe said straight away, his tone almost one of nonchalance until he spoke again regret and sadness evident with his next words. “And that’s why I can’t do this with you Bill. I just can’t. I can’t become that, I won’t let myself be that.”
“That?” William echoed quietly, not really wanting to hear the answer.
“Used,” Gabe told him, wincing inwardly as he watched William flinch a little at the word but forcing himself to keep up his walls, stopping himself from just pulling Bill into his arms the way he so badly wanted to.
“I -” William took in a slightly shay breath as he tried to steady himself, keep it together. “This isn’t... This isn’t that, Gabe, it’s not anywhere close to that. You’re...”
“What, Bill?” Gabe asked softly, his resolve slipping away every second he had to sit in front of William when the boy looked so hurt, so broken; lost. “Another distraction? A different kind of fix?” he made himself say the words. Gabe had to say them - for both their sakes, he told himself, not quite believing it yet despite having had weeks to convince himself. “I can’t be that, Bilvy. I won’t.”
“It’s not the same Gabe. It’s not,” William paused, fingers gripping a crease in his jeans as he concentrated on not letting himself cry. He had to hold it together so he could make Gabe understand. He had to make Gabe understand. “This isn’t just about physical stuff, and it’s not about forgetting. I want...” William shifted slightly closer to Gabe, speaking quietly but firmly as the words came to him. “One of the most important parts about getting clean and staying that way is about goals,” he explained. “Some people have jobs to get back to, families... when you asked me what I really wanted I didn’t know. But I do now; I know what my goal is. You said I shouldn’t get clean for you or anyone else, but it is for me because I want you to be proud of me, I want you trust me again, I want -” William paused, smiling a little in spite of the situation. “I feel...” he faltered as Gabe looked away, looked down at his hands, expression pretty damn clear. “You don’t - You don’t believe me, do you?” Bill asked, voice just a shade or two above a whisper, willing himself to not cry. To just not cry. “You don’t trust me,” he added, thinking back to earlier that evening, how Gabe had yelled at him when he gave that guy directions.
“No, I don’t,” Gabe said simply, forcing himself to look up and meet William’s eyes and wishing immediately that he’d let his cowardice win out, because the expression on Bill’s face was almost - almost enough to break him. Not quite, though.
Addicts, Gabe knew, could be the greatest liars in the world. If they needed a fix they might go into a hospital and bullshit their way into getting a hold of some drugs. If they needed money they could easily tell you some crap about why they needed it, some sob story that wasn’t even remotely close to true. And the way Gabe saw it, if William needed to feel loved, or wanted, or that physical closeness to help him forget, someone to fuck with to make him stop thinking about getting fucked up, he could say anything. He could say he loved Gabe and wanted to be with him or anything else and it wouldn’t necessarily be true. Bill could so easily use Gabe like he’d used drugs, and used Ryan, but Gabe wasn’t going to take that chance. He couldn’t take the chance.
Gabe might have hated himself for feeling this way about William, about Bilvy for fuck’s sake, but he couldn’t help it. Because Gabe knew that if he went into that, let himself fall in love with William, and it turned out to be fake, it would just destroy him.
“But -” William began, whatever was going to follow dying before it reached his mouth.
“I love you, Bilvy, you know that,” Gabe started filling the silence, his tone almost cautious. William just let out a sound that might have been him choking back a laugh, or a sob. Gabe knew the feeling. “I’m still here for you, as your friend, I promise you that,” Gabe said firmly, leaning forward a little as William’s gaze slipped slightly over Gabe’s shoulder, as though he was having trouble focusing. “Please, Bill,” Gabe felt like he could cry. He almost wanted to, because this wasn’t right, he knew this wasn’t right but he didn’t know how to do this differently, he couldn’t. “Hey,” Gabe reached out to touch William’s arm only to find the younger man practically jump from his seat, running his fingers through his hair as he searched the large space of Gabe’s apartment with his eyes, though for what Gabe didn’t know. Probably a way out of this, Gabe realised sadly. That’s what he was searching for, running things through his mind and trying to convince himself that this wasn’t the right thing, wasn’t the right way to handle this.
“I have to go,” William said almost casually, as though nothing had happened, nothing had been said, like he’d just popped in for a coffee and had to be on his way. “I - I guess I’ll see you around,” he somehow summoned up a small smile from nowhere that almost could have passed for the real thing if his eyes didn’t give it all away.
“Where are - I mean, you can’t, Bill,” Gabe stood up as well, putting them on an equal level. “Not alone, not when you’re... upset,” he finished, thinking to himself what an understatement that probably was. And you did that he reminded himself. “Just wait, and I’ll call Sisky and he can come here or - or I can go with you to find him,” Gabe was suddenly bordering on panic, for some reason, because William looked and sounded too calm. It wasn’t right. Nothing had been right since they’d gotten back to the apartment.
“I’ll call him,” William nodded, backing away towards the door even as he spoke. “I know this area pretty well, remember? I don’t need a babysitter,” he laughed. Bill knew this wasn’t quite right, that he was somehow just keeping it together enough for now but below the strange calmness and normalcy that had taken over his consciousness William kind of felt like he was a stretching rubber band: Just about ready to snap. He had to get out, the thought resurfaced in his mind as Gabe walked quickly around him, standing in front of the door, hands raised in a placating gesture.
William couldn’t stay there anymore - couldn’t Gabe see that?
“Just - come sit back down,” Gabe coaxed, walking forward towards Bill and smiling as the younger male moved in front of him, going back to sit down on the couch and straight away dropping this gaze to his hands, not looking at Gabe. “Yeah,” Gabe said almost to himself really as he patted his pockets to find his cell but had to glance around the room instead, seeing it over on the kitchen counter and walking on over there.
He heard the click of the door and turned in a split second, kicking himself for even taking his eyes off of William, then even harder for wasting a few seconds on that pointless act before running back towards the door, phone clutched forgotten in his fingers as he fumbled with the latch.
Throwing the door open and ignoring the way it banged against the wall, Gabe looked down the hallway, his breaths quickening further in panic as he stared at the little electronic panel above the elevator doors, the numbers indicating that the elevator was heading down already.
“Shit,” Gabe breathed out, just trying to think for a second before emotion took over. “Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his hand against the wall as hard as he could.
No, he couldn’t freak out, Gabe told himself as he took a deep breath in a pretty much futile attempt to calm himself down. Snapping himself back into some semblance of a rational human being, Gabe checked his hoodie pocket for his keys before pulling the door shut. As he started down the corridor Gabe was already finding the right number in his cell and putting the phone to his ear, murmuring under his breath; pickuppickuppickup.
“Sisky?” Gabe said as soon as the dial tone was cut off. “No,” he punched his finger into the elevator’s ‘down’ button a dozen times, as if it might make the damn thing just magically get there sooner, before speaking again, his voice laced with guilt. “No man, everything is definitely not okay.”
William was not okay.
That false sense of holding it all together somehow had faded as soon as William had left Gabe’s apartment, leaving him completely once he’d lost himself round a few corners and slipped into some random alleyway just to let himself be for a second, just to try and gather himself together. In fact, the opposite happened.
He’d fallen apart. Just a little - or maybe a lot, stuff wasn’t really making a whole lot of sense to William just then. But enough, anyway. Enough to make Bill believe, well and truly, that he might be about to fucking lose it. And he didn’t care.
Why should he care? William asked himself as he sank down to his knees, crumpling a little to end up leaning back against the wall. He tried to care, and it turned out... like this. Here. William had cared about Gabe, and taking this chance, and getting clean and getting better and... what for? Bill actually laughed out loud as he thought that. He could spend his whole life staying clean and trying so damn hard all the time, only to have everyone just waiting for him to fuck up again. Gabe was never going to really trust him ever again, that seemed pretty fucking clear. Even the band were always going to be watching William, waiting for him to slip, expecting it. So what was the fucking point in trying?
Somewhere, behind the sea of emotions and words that just flooded his whole mind just then, William knew, he did know that he was spiralling into a dark state of mind full of fear and self loathing and just not caring, but that was just it. He didn’t care. William was simply past caring at that point. It hurt too much to care. It hurt that he had to face this struggle against himself for the rest of his life, and he was already tired. It hurt to know that Gabe couldn’t trust him anymore. Not enough, anyway, not enough for either of them. William wanted to scream, but even more than that he just wanted to make the pain go away. He was tired.
The city was still wide awake though, the city that never sleeps - in some places at least. And Bill knew those places. He knew exactly where to go.
Gabe had been in the elevator, willing the thing to go faster, when Sisky had told him it straight. He’d told the young bassist the gist of what had happened, about how he’d rejected William and the singer had started acting strangely, and Sisky had listened pretty patiently until Gabe talking about how they just had to find Bill, that the details weren’t important.
“Not important?” Sisky yelled. Gabe wasn’t used to hearing Sisky sound like that. He’d heard the younger man shout more times than he could count, usually in excitement or just for the sake of it and the fact that there was altogether too much silence around wherever they were. He’d never heard Adam T. Siska sound so purely angry before. “How the fuck is that ‘not important?”
“Sisk-” Gabe started to speak but never got further than that first syllable before Sisky interrupted him.
“No Gabe. You don’t get to say the fucking details aren’t important and make out like this isn’t your fault,” Gabe swallowed hard at those words; slightly taken aback that Sisky was actually saying it like that. But then again, it was Bill they were talking about, and Sisky was already starting to lose his mind a little because he’d borrowed someone’s cell so he could already call William, putting the second phone to his free ear and ignoring the strange looks his friends had given him. It was so much more important, not to mention fucking scary, that Bill wasn’t picking up. “If you can’t control yourself enough to actually think about what you’re saying to a recovering addict, then you don’t get to suddenly act like you care just because you’ve realised you went too far,” Sisky’s voice became even more heated if that were possible as he yelled his last words. “You fucked up Gabe, and Bilvy’s missing, and if anything happens to him I swear -” Sisky broke off and Gabe heard a shuddering breath down the line as the bassist composed himself and Gabe took the opportunity to speak.
“I didn’t mean -” Gabe stopped, realising that he really couldn’t say anything to make this okay. Not to Sisky. “Can I - I need to help. What -”
“No,” Sisky cut him off, tone cold. “You’ve done enough.”
After leaving voicemails on William’s phone and a text message detailing where they staying in case Bill had forgotten - or was too out of it and he could at least show a cab driver, Sisky thought reluctantly - he’d just been going from place to place, just searching the area for his best friend. Sisky knew how likely it was that he’d actually find the singer before he wanted to be found - if he did - but he couldn’t help himself. There was no way he could just sit in their hotel room and wait when Bill could be out there, somewhere, doing God knows what.
So Sisky had just gone to different bars, places he knew Bill used to go to a lot, and knew why. He didn’t want to think like that, it made him feel sick to think like that, but Sisky knew he had to. He knew that if William wasn’t answering his calls then he didn’t want to be found, and there had to be a reason why.
Eventually, though, Sisky ran out of places to go and tried to face the fact that it might be time to call the police. Or call someone, at least. Despite his refusal of help from one Gabriel Saporta, Sisky honestly felt like he was at breaking point. He was scared out of his mind, scared for Bill, scared for just not knowing. It was too much.
One hour, Sisky told himself as he made his way up to their hotel room. And if William hadn’t shown up or called by then - Well, he’d do something, Sisky resolved as he opened the door. He didn’t know what yet, but just... something.
He was still trying to think what that something would be whilst heading for the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face in some attempt to wake himself up when Sisky jolted to a stop as the sound of glass being knocked over onto the bathroom tile reached his ears before he even realised he’d kicked the bottle over. And it was a bottle, Sisky noted as he looked down, suddenly completely awake. An empty bottle that used to contain some obscure Russian brand of vodka, too much to be empty, but didn’t anymore. Sisky wasn’t even sure what had been in the small clear plastic bag that lay crumpled next to his foot, but if the specks of white powder were anything to go by...
Fuck, Sisky cursed himself as he suddenly became conscious that he hadn’t even checked the place when he’d gone in. He’d just assumed... Sisky turned around and ran the few steps out and around the corner slightly to where the two queen sized beds were. On the flight over he’d joked with Bill, asking him whether queen sized would be alright and jumping in before the older boy could even speak, saying that of course Bilvy would be right at home on a bed for a queen. It had been funny at the time, anyway; an attempt to take William’s mind off Gabe. And now Sisky’s mind was filled with the image in front of him and the possibilities it presented.
Curled up in the corner of the room, in the small space between the bed and the wall, was the somehow tiny-looking form of William Beckett. One leg was drawn up to his chest, arm held loosely around it, but the other was twisted almost awkwardly under the bed as the singer’s body lay slumped slightly to the side, head resting on his other arm which was stretched out across the mattress. He looked like he might have been sleeping. If it wasn’t for the somewhat odd position, and the things Sisky had found, he could have been sleeping.
Swearing under his breath before offering up a silent prayer to whatever was up there watching, Sisky took the few steps forward, cell phone already in hand, and dropped to his knees in front of William.