My Name is Heinrich
Title: My Name Is Heinrich
Pairing: Heinrich Haussler, Sébastian Chavanel
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This is a total figment of my imagination and any resemblance to reality must is a mistake.
Warnings: deals with addiction ( skip) discussion of death, suicidal thoughts/self harm, character death pre fic, drink driving
Author's Notes: Written for the Alcoholism prompt for hc_bingo
Summary: Heinrich hasn't slept since it happened
Heinrich hasn’t slept since it happened.
One day everything was fine and the next it was coming apart at the seams.
He’s unplugged his phone and right now he can’t work out why exactly he has it, it’s not like he’s ever here to be using it. His mobile is on silent and currently buried under the sofa cushions just so it can’t sit there mocking him. He knows he needs to check his messages and no doubt return an almost endless list of calls but he can’t face it right now.
There’s a bottle on the kitchen table and sitting on the floor he can’t see it but he knows it’s mocking him too. The seal’s unbroken and he loves the sound it makes when it breaks. It’s almost as sweet as that first drink, the way the liquor burns down his throat and warms him from the inside out. There’s something special about the first one. Much like the end of breaking a fast those first few mouthfuls are always exquisite.
That’s not where it ends though; it’s never where it ends. That first glass is only the beginning and usually about half way through he starts to think the glass is overrated and just drinks from the bottle until it’s empty.
Ever since the police pulled him over he’s not been able to go to sleep. He hasn’t been able to lay his head on his pillow and relax in the haven of sleep. His body hasn’t had a chance to recover from what he’s putting it through and he knows it’s only a matter of time.
None of that matters because every time his eyes close, even if it’s just for a second, he sees all the people he passed on his journey. He is haunted by all the lives he could have ended that night. He sees the faces of the families he could’ve destroyed. He saw the faces of all the lives that had been destroyed when his friends had slipped beyond reach.
He isn’t sure why he cares now, he never has before. This moment is no different from the vast array of experiences he has to draw from. There’s a black suit in Heinrich’s wardrobe that he’s worn so many times in recently memory that there were days he never thought he’d take it off again.
So many friends had been there one minute and gone the next but not him. He doesn’t really understand why things have worked out that way. His best friend had died in his arms and without even changing out of his blood soaked clothes he’d crawled into a bottle and stayed there for days.
Heinrich’s been trying so hard to die for so long but nothing seems to work.
He wants to drink so badly, it’s a need that’s clawing at him and he’s not sure he’s going to keep on breathing if he doesn’t give in soon. There’s a pain that is threatening to consume him and if he has to make a choice he’s always going to choose the demons he knows. His parents never could understand why he was friends with the people he was but he was one of them and to him they were home.
There’s no reason to change things, he’s kept his drinking hidden for years and it won’t take much for the mask to be back in place. He’s been looking at the world once removed for so long he doesn’t know anything else. He knows all the right moves and that’s all it really takes. He knows what it’s like to go through the day when nothing can touch him. He’s got so good at it that days just slide off him and run together until they’re just a blur of meaningless colour.
Heinrich has never felt the grass beneath his feet, he doesn’t know what the sun against his face feels like and he’s not even sure he can tell the difference between hot and cold. Sure he knows what all these things are (and what the right responses to certain questions are) but he’s never felt any of them before. He’s never experienced them deep in soul.
He’s had sex with so many partners that he long ago stopped counting. What’s the point in counting when the numbers and the people are irrelevant? They were nameless, faceless and that’s exactly how he liked them. They had a good time and the moment it’s done he’s ready to move onto someone else. He’s never met a person he didn’t like, or a drink for that matter.
He drags in a breath and wonders why it suddenly matters so damn much. It’s not like he’s ever had it before to know what he’s missing. He’s so far beyond help it’s ridiculous to even consider it. He’ll never know those things that everyone else has. Nobody will ever see Heinrich the way he was once upon a time.
He pushes himself up off the floor and steps towards the bottle. This is what he knows and to hell with everything else. The mask is slipping back into place again and the half smile appears on his face automatically. Maybe if he gives in he’ll be able to sleep again and everything would go back to normal. There’s no reason to try to fight the comforting embrace.
A knock on the door interrupts his progress towards his nirvana and or a moment he hesitates. Deciding to ignore it his fingers close over the neck of the bottle and he reaches forward to break the seal. In the next instant he’s walking towards the door and yanking it open. “What?!” he demands angrily.
Sébastian looks at him in shock but Heinrich can’t bring himself to care. “I heard what happened.”
The softly spoken words threaten to break through his new found control. The need to get back to his bottle is clawing at him and he wonders how he can get rid of his uninvited visitor. “I’m sorry,” Sébastian continues.
He can feel the way his defences are starting to crack and he knows he needs to do something about this right now. “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“Heinrich.”
No, he’s not going to do this again. He was finally starting to feel more like himself and he’s not going to go back to that wreck that was sitting on his kitchen floor. It might have only been a few minutes ago but it felt like years. Lifetimes. “You didn’t need to come, really. Everything’s fine. It was just a mistake, I didn’t keep track of what I was drinking.”
He’s surprised how easily the lies come but he shouldn’t be really, it’s not like it’s something he’s ever had to practise before. They always just kept coming and everyone accepted them so easily. Heinrich isn’t sure what tips him off that this time his lie has been seen for what it is but he knows it has.
He doesn’t know what to say now, he’s never had to deal with this before. He focuses on Sébastian’s trainers that look as well worn as the jeans the other man is wearing. He’s not slept for days, he must look a wreck. He runs a self-conscious hand through his tangled hair and grimaces when his fingers get caught. “It’s fine.”
He lets his hand fall away because there’s nothing he can do about it now. Arms unexpectedly wrap around him and he awkwardly pats Sébastian on the back because he’s not sure how to respond. He’s not instantly released and if the hugging wasn’t awkward before then it is now. “I’m fine,” he insists. “You don’t have to-”
His words trail off as Sébastian merely holds him tighter and he tries not to think about it too much. His body is confused by exactly how it’s meant to feel about what’s happening and Heinrich has the urge to laugh because it’s just so ridiculous. How can someone not know how to react to this? Sébastian’s holding him close and is completely relaxed, unconcerned with the confusion that it’s causing.
He must smell terrible because he doesn’t remember the last time he showered. Where are his manners? He tries to push Sébastian away and somehow just manages to bring the older man closer. “I know it’s scary, that’s why I’m here to help.”
The softly spoken words touch part of him that hurts and he wants nothing more than to push Sébastian away whilst saying something cutting about how he’s not like that. The ugly words are on the tip of his tongue but before he can say them hands are encouraging him to relax into the embrace. “It’s not your fault.”
His defences crumble and suddenly the urge to drink is overwhelming. He’s drowning in pain and memories are flooding his brain. He can hardly breathe and the world is tilting at alarming angles. “Sébastian,” he whispers.
“I’m here, you’re not alone any more.”
Heinrich squeezes his eyes tightly shut and buries his face in Sébastian’s neck. He can only hope that’s true. He’s flown down mountain sides at ridiculously speeds, he’s ridden his bike when there’s snow on the side of the roads and he’s continued pedalling when his body had screamed at him to stop. Heinrich can safely say without a shadow of a doubt that this is the scariest thing he’s ever done in his life. He breathes in Sébastian’s scent and just prays that he can keep breathing.
Pairing: Heinrich Haussler, Sébastian Chavanel
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This is a total figment of my imagination and any resemblance to reality must is a mistake.
Warnings: deals with addiction ( skip) discussion of death, suicidal thoughts/self harm, character death pre fic, drink driving
Author's Notes: Written for the Alcoholism prompt for hc_bingo
Summary: Heinrich hasn't slept since it happened
Heinrich hasn’t slept since it happened.
One day everything was fine and the next it was coming apart at the seams.
He’s unplugged his phone and right now he can’t work out why exactly he has it, it’s not like he’s ever here to be using it. His mobile is on silent and currently buried under the sofa cushions just so it can’t sit there mocking him. He knows he needs to check his messages and no doubt return an almost endless list of calls but he can’t face it right now.
There’s a bottle on the kitchen table and sitting on the floor he can’t see it but he knows it’s mocking him too. The seal’s unbroken and he loves the sound it makes when it breaks. It’s almost as sweet as that first drink, the way the liquor burns down his throat and warms him from the inside out. There’s something special about the first one. Much like the end of breaking a fast those first few mouthfuls are always exquisite.
That’s not where it ends though; it’s never where it ends. That first glass is only the beginning and usually about half way through he starts to think the glass is overrated and just drinks from the bottle until it’s empty.
Ever since the police pulled him over he’s not been able to go to sleep. He hasn’t been able to lay his head on his pillow and relax in the haven of sleep. His body hasn’t had a chance to recover from what he’s putting it through and he knows it’s only a matter of time.
None of that matters because every time his eyes close, even if it’s just for a second, he sees all the people he passed on his journey. He is haunted by all the lives he could have ended that night. He sees the faces of the families he could’ve destroyed. He saw the faces of all the lives that had been destroyed when his friends had slipped beyond reach.
He isn’t sure why he cares now, he never has before. This moment is no different from the vast array of experiences he has to draw from. There’s a black suit in Heinrich’s wardrobe that he’s worn so many times in recently memory that there were days he never thought he’d take it off again.
So many friends had been there one minute and gone the next but not him. He doesn’t really understand why things have worked out that way. His best friend had died in his arms and without even changing out of his blood soaked clothes he’d crawled into a bottle and stayed there for days.
Heinrich’s been trying so hard to die for so long but nothing seems to work.
He wants to drink so badly, it’s a need that’s clawing at him and he’s not sure he’s going to keep on breathing if he doesn’t give in soon. There’s a pain that is threatening to consume him and if he has to make a choice he’s always going to choose the demons he knows. His parents never could understand why he was friends with the people he was but he was one of them and to him they were home.
There’s no reason to change things, he’s kept his drinking hidden for years and it won’t take much for the mask to be back in place. He’s been looking at the world once removed for so long he doesn’t know anything else. He knows all the right moves and that’s all it really takes. He knows what it’s like to go through the day when nothing can touch him. He’s got so good at it that days just slide off him and run together until they’re just a blur of meaningless colour.
Heinrich has never felt the grass beneath his feet, he doesn’t know what the sun against his face feels like and he’s not even sure he can tell the difference between hot and cold. Sure he knows what all these things are (and what the right responses to certain questions are) but he’s never felt any of them before. He’s never experienced them deep in soul.
He’s had sex with so many partners that he long ago stopped counting. What’s the point in counting when the numbers and the people are irrelevant? They were nameless, faceless and that’s exactly how he liked them. They had a good time and the moment it’s done he’s ready to move onto someone else. He’s never met a person he didn’t like, or a drink for that matter.
He drags in a breath and wonders why it suddenly matters so damn much. It’s not like he’s ever had it before to know what he’s missing. He’s so far beyond help it’s ridiculous to even consider it. He’ll never know those things that everyone else has. Nobody will ever see Heinrich the way he was once upon a time.
He pushes himself up off the floor and steps towards the bottle. This is what he knows and to hell with everything else. The mask is slipping back into place again and the half smile appears on his face automatically. Maybe if he gives in he’ll be able to sleep again and everything would go back to normal. There’s no reason to try to fight the comforting embrace.
A knock on the door interrupts his progress towards his nirvana and or a moment he hesitates. Deciding to ignore it his fingers close over the neck of the bottle and he reaches forward to break the seal. In the next instant he’s walking towards the door and yanking it open. “What?!” he demands angrily.
Sébastian looks at him in shock but Heinrich can’t bring himself to care. “I heard what happened.”
The softly spoken words threaten to break through his new found control. The need to get back to his bottle is clawing at him and he wonders how he can get rid of his uninvited visitor. “I’m sorry,” Sébastian continues.
He can feel the way his defences are starting to crack and he knows he needs to do something about this right now. “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“Heinrich.”
No, he’s not going to do this again. He was finally starting to feel more like himself and he’s not going to go back to that wreck that was sitting on his kitchen floor. It might have only been a few minutes ago but it felt like years. Lifetimes. “You didn’t need to come, really. Everything’s fine. It was just a mistake, I didn’t keep track of what I was drinking.”
He’s surprised how easily the lies come but he shouldn’t be really, it’s not like it’s something he’s ever had to practise before. They always just kept coming and everyone accepted them so easily. Heinrich isn’t sure what tips him off that this time his lie has been seen for what it is but he knows it has.
He doesn’t know what to say now, he’s never had to deal with this before. He focuses on Sébastian’s trainers that look as well worn as the jeans the other man is wearing. He’s not slept for days, he must look a wreck. He runs a self-conscious hand through his tangled hair and grimaces when his fingers get caught. “It’s fine.”
He lets his hand fall away because there’s nothing he can do about it now. Arms unexpectedly wrap around him and he awkwardly pats Sébastian on the back because he’s not sure how to respond. He’s not instantly released and if the hugging wasn’t awkward before then it is now. “I’m fine,” he insists. “You don’t have to-”
His words trail off as Sébastian merely holds him tighter and he tries not to think about it too much. His body is confused by exactly how it’s meant to feel about what’s happening and Heinrich has the urge to laugh because it’s just so ridiculous. How can someone not know how to react to this? Sébastian’s holding him close and is completely relaxed, unconcerned with the confusion that it’s causing.
He must smell terrible because he doesn’t remember the last time he showered. Where are his manners? He tries to push Sébastian away and somehow just manages to bring the older man closer. “I know it’s scary, that’s why I’m here to help.”
The softly spoken words touch part of him that hurts and he wants nothing more than to push Sébastian away whilst saying something cutting about how he’s not like that. The ugly words are on the tip of his tongue but before he can say them hands are encouraging him to relax into the embrace. “It’s not your fault.”
His defences crumble and suddenly the urge to drink is overwhelming. He’s drowning in pain and memories are flooding his brain. He can hardly breathe and the world is tilting at alarming angles. “Sébastian,” he whispers.
“I’m here, you’re not alone any more.”
Heinrich squeezes his eyes tightly shut and buries his face in Sébastian’s neck. He can only hope that’s true. He’s flown down mountain sides at ridiculously speeds, he’s ridden his bike when there’s snow on the side of the roads and he’s continued pedalling when his body had screamed at him to stop. Heinrich can safely say without a shadow of a doubt that this is the scariest thing he’s ever done in his life. He breathes in Sébastian’s scent and just prays that he can keep breathing.