[on_thecouch] 55.4 - Falling
(Because I feel like crap, and he is one of the ones that usually gets the brunt of it. Nikki = stork_inscrubs)
"Awake, arise or be forever fallen" ~Paradise Lost
He knew he was asking to be found, but he didn't care. Or - maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to be caught.
He was sitting on the pavement and leaned back against his car. It was late. Very late. The parking deck was nearly empty, and the sounds of traffic nearby wasn't as present. His fingers held tight the the paper bag at his side. Wrapped inside of the paper was a bottle of Jack Daniels. Unopened. He had walked down to the liquor store nearly two hours before, but when he got back to his car to go home...he just sat down. And he hadn't moved.
It had been a bad week. Nothing too outstanding, but bad enough. And every night he had gone home to his empty house and sat in the silence. It was starting to hurt again. He knew he couldn't drown that pain, but oh how he wanted to. He was starting to doubt that becoming this new him was even worth anything. He had been trying so hard to be something better, but what did it matter really? At the end of the day he was the only one at his side.
So what was the point of being sober? Sure, he was supposed to be doing it for himself, but he was having a real hard time remembering why he wanted it. He felt better when he was drinking. He felt better when he didn't give a fuck. Or...whatever fuck he did give didn't have to matter. Because he had his bottle.
He moved it over to his lap and peeled the paper bag back to look at the bottle. It would be so easy to open it and take a drink. Take as many drinks as he needed to pass out. He didn't even consider the fact that he'd be passed out in the middle of a dark parking deck.
Footsteps echoed towards him, and as they got closer a voice accompanied them. "What the hell are you doing?"
Fantastic. Nikki. Just what he needed. He didn't even bother looking at her. "Don't you have a street corner to be standing on?"
She kicked his knee. "Are you going to sit there and fall off the wagon?"
"Why? Want me to get drunk so you can take advantage of me?" He finally did look up at her. "What would Tony think, Greyson?"
Nikki glared. "You know what? Drink. Make yourself sick. I could really care less."
"Then why are you still standing here?"
"Because...even if I don't care, I know people that do. For some ungodly reason, they care about you not being this."
"Go away, Nikki," he said quietly, glaring back down at the bottle. She was only making him want to drink even more.
She pulled out her cell phone and aimed it at him. "Wait...stay still.."
His glare returned to her, along with a middle finger. "What are you doing?"
"Oh nothing. Just further proof for Mic that she's better off to be rid of you." He couldn't even bite back at that. He just looked down quietly. Nikki sighed and dropped the phone, not taking the picture. She watched him a moment before shoving the phone back in her purse. "For godsake, Spencer." She walked closer and bent down to reach for his arm. "Get your fatass up."
"Can you just...leave me alone?" He yanked his arm away.
Nikki threw her arms up in surrender. "Fine. Do what you want. Obviously you could care less about getting better, or keeping any of your friends, or having Michaela around again. Frankly, we're all better off."
"Yeah, you are." Again he didn't look at her. Just the bottle in his hands. Nikki bent down again, this time yanking the bottle from his lap. He looked up and fought weakly for it.
"Go home," she snapped, before walking off with the Jack Daniels.
Noah watched her go, then sighed and dropped his head in his hands. He didn't get up to go, but at the same time...he wasn't drinking yet. No. No yet. He wasn't drinking. Period. Instead...he was sitting in the dark, nearly empty parking lot, crumpled at the side of his car.
704
"Awake, arise or be forever fallen" ~Paradise Lost
He knew he was asking to be found, but he didn't care. Or - maybe he did. Maybe he wanted to be caught.
He was sitting on the pavement and leaned back against his car. It was late. Very late. The parking deck was nearly empty, and the sounds of traffic nearby wasn't as present. His fingers held tight the the paper bag at his side. Wrapped inside of the paper was a bottle of Jack Daniels. Unopened. He had walked down to the liquor store nearly two hours before, but when he got back to his car to go home...he just sat down. And he hadn't moved.
It had been a bad week. Nothing too outstanding, but bad enough. And every night he had gone home to his empty house and sat in the silence. It was starting to hurt again. He knew he couldn't drown that pain, but oh how he wanted to. He was starting to doubt that becoming this new him was even worth anything. He had been trying so hard to be something better, but what did it matter really? At the end of the day he was the only one at his side.
So what was the point of being sober? Sure, he was supposed to be doing it for himself, but he was having a real hard time remembering why he wanted it. He felt better when he was drinking. He felt better when he didn't give a fuck. Or...whatever fuck he did give didn't have to matter. Because he had his bottle.
He moved it over to his lap and peeled the paper bag back to look at the bottle. It would be so easy to open it and take a drink. Take as many drinks as he needed to pass out. He didn't even consider the fact that he'd be passed out in the middle of a dark parking deck.
Footsteps echoed towards him, and as they got closer a voice accompanied them. "What the hell are you doing?"
Fantastic. Nikki. Just what he needed. He didn't even bother looking at her. "Don't you have a street corner to be standing on?"
She kicked his knee. "Are you going to sit there and fall off the wagon?"
"Why? Want me to get drunk so you can take advantage of me?" He finally did look up at her. "What would Tony think, Greyson?"
Nikki glared. "You know what? Drink. Make yourself sick. I could really care less."
"Then why are you still standing here?"
"Because...even if I don't care, I know people that do. For some ungodly reason, they care about you not being this."
"Go away, Nikki," he said quietly, glaring back down at the bottle. She was only making him want to drink even more.
She pulled out her cell phone and aimed it at him. "Wait...stay still.."
His glare returned to her, along with a middle finger. "What are you doing?"
"Oh nothing. Just further proof for Mic that she's better off to be rid of you." He couldn't even bite back at that. He just looked down quietly. Nikki sighed and dropped the phone, not taking the picture. She watched him a moment before shoving the phone back in her purse. "For godsake, Spencer." She walked closer and bent down to reach for his arm. "Get your fatass up."
"Can you just...leave me alone?" He yanked his arm away.
Nikki threw her arms up in surrender. "Fine. Do what you want. Obviously you could care less about getting better, or keeping any of your friends, or having Michaela around again. Frankly, we're all better off."
"Yeah, you are." Again he didn't look at her. Just the bottle in his hands. Nikki bent down again, this time yanking the bottle from his lap. He looked up and fought weakly for it.
"Go home," she snapped, before walking off with the Jack Daniels.
Noah watched her go, then sighed and dropped his head in his hands. He didn't get up to go, but at the same time...he wasn't drinking yet. No. No yet. He wasn't drinking. Period. Instead...he was sitting in the dark, nearly empty parking lot, crumpled at the side of his car.
704