Trouble came a callin'; Attyston

[Deleted]

They had finished the entire case, and a full bottle of vodkathat night and soon were both passed out cold.
Morning came too early and not in a friendly fashion. Connor's sick body was not happy.
There was no way he was getting to the bathroom either.
The moment he was awake his body was craving drugs and he felt sicker than sick. He scrambled up, realizing they were both undressed. Fear rocketed through him and he got sick over the kitchen trash can, shaking too bad to even stand.

[Attyston Thomas]

I blink open my eyes, looking up at the ceiling. I sit up, wiping at my eyes. Where was I? And why was i naked? I glance over towards the sound of retching coming from the kitchen. The memory of what had gone on was hazy. I stand and find my boxers to pull them on, glaring at the empty beer case as if it was all it's fault. God, I hoped that.. I didn't even know what I hoped.
I stumble over to the kitchen, a hand to my head. I had a splitting fucking headache. My green eyes land on Connor, still naked, standing in front of the kitchen trashcan, trembling. A blush creeps over my face and I turn to go back into the living room, grabbing his briefs from the floor and heading back into the kitchen to hold them out to him, looking at my feet sheepishly.

[Deleted]

Connor jumped, lifting his head and taking he briefs, tugging them on and falling to his knees in the process.
He threw up again, sitting down against the counter and pulling the trash can with him, eyeing his backpack desperately before glancing a Attyston.
It was sad, how dependent his body was. He struggled up, stumbling over and pulling the ba of everything he needed, and a second bag of crystal meth from his bag, gauging the distance to try and get in the bahroom and lock the door before Attyston could stop him.

[Attyston Thomas]

I jump forward to try and help him up as he falls, taking the trashcan with him- which was good, because he just managed to throw up into it. I lean up against the fridge, running a hand over my face again. I felt like shit. I look up as Connor rushes past me, my green eyes landing on a purple hickey that had formed on his neck. Oh, shit. What had I done? What had I just ruined?
I keep my gaze trained towards the floor before turning to watch as he dug through his bag before starting towards the bathroom. "You're better than this." I say simply, shaking my head slightly. A sigh escapes my lips and I start over towards the couch again to sit down, putting my head in my hands. I looked at the clothes that were strewn across the floor. Connor probably hated me now. He probably thought I was some sick person, some guy who just wanted to fuck him.

[Deleted]

Connor shut the door and slid to the ground, not even locking the door. He let the tears fall, humiliated, ashamed that he was so addicted. Shaking hands fimbled with melting the crystal and pouring two tokes into the needle, tying a belt tight around his upper right arm and sticking the needle in the vein.
He coughed, sniffling and wiping at his face, touching at the mark on his neck. But he saw he'd left several on Attyston. He couldn't be upset about that, and he wasn't. But...what had he been thinking in the first place?
Gagging, he touched at his empty, unsettled stomach, finally giving up on the shooting and loosin himself in OxyContin he still had in his needle bag. He swallowed several pills in an attempt to ahieve numbness after two days of coming down. He eyed the tub, the razor there, and struggled back to his feet to sitting on the edge of the tub, slicing his fingers up a bit as he shakily, desperately tried to work the blade from the razor.

[Attyston Thomas]

I let him go. What was I going to do? Nothing. I sit on the couch for a couple minutes, my mind completely blank. I felt like shit. All I wanted to do was fall back asleep. Then I wouldn't have to face this. I sigh and gather the clothes from the floor into my arms before finally starting towards the bathroom. I listen at the door for a minute before turning the knob and just heading towards the hamper, virtually ignoring Connor before my green eyes flicked to him. I stop in my tracks, looking at the razor that he had in his hands. I look back up at his face. "Give me the damned thing." I say, taking a step towards him with my hand open, trembling. Finally I just snatch it from his hand, my ugly temper rearing its head for the first time since I'd met Connor.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Between you and Londyn, I don't know what I'm going to do!" I yell, putting my face up to his. "Why would you do that! Someone loves you, both of you- I do! Don't you know what the fuck it does to me!" I continue, finally turning and slamming the bathroom door behind me. I stomp into my room, not bothering to shut the door, and fling the razor to the floor, not that it does much good. I let out a frustrated scream, slamming my fist into my bedroom wall, causing a fair dent before I finally sit on the edge of my unmade bed, putting my head in my hands as I mentally count to ten in an attempt to calm myself.

[Deleted]

Connor tensed, head shooting up. He stared in surprise, wincing as the razor was snatched, slicing across his palm. He would have been fine wallowing in his shame until Attyston was face to face and yellig. Conor flinched, fallig back ito the tub and sobbing, actually hiding his face, the only thing running through his head the possibility of Attyston hitting him in his anger.
But he didn't. The door slammed and Connor jumped. Then something hit the wall.
Connor drew in shaky breaths and just laid curled in the empty tub, digging his nails into his wrists a bit to try and calm himself down.

[Attyston Thomas]

How had it come to this? Why had I gone along with it when he'd dragged out the alcohol? Surely, if I hadn't, everything would be fine right now. I hated the look on Connor's face when I yelled- he thought I was going to hit him. I'd never hit him, I never got mad. Never. I usually was so laid back and calm, but I felt like I was going to keel over and die, I was ashamed of not knowing what had happened last night, and the razor was the last straw. I run my hands over my face again before finally standing and closing the door to my room, turning to close the blinds to my room. It was finally a bit gloomy. I pull back the covers to my bed and crawl in, though I knew I wouldn't fall asleep. I wanted to, though I knew it would be impossible now. Not after that.

[Deleted]

Connor didn't bother rinse out the slice on his palm, instead getting up and climbing out of the tub. He wasn't sure he could handle this, trying to trust, having someone expecting him to get clean or not self harm or to even care. Maybe he shouldn't have told Attyston anything. Maybe he shouldn't have called...
Attyston deserved better and Connor felt he deserved the nothingness he had.
He gathered his backpack carefully with the kitten in it, and walked out the from door in his briefs, barefoot, then paused.
Setting the kitten back inside, along with it's food, and all the trinkets, letters and drawings from his little sister until only drugs and the gun Adam had shot himself with were left in the backpack. Then he shut the front door, stumbling slowly down the drive, sticking to morning shadows with the pills and drugs and always lurking addictions and depression urging him find somewhere to just curl up and die, not drag Attyston into his life and his problems. He couldn't do that...he was done. He'd told him he was done.

Connor walked to the beah, the secluded area he'd talked to Londyn in, the place his brother had died. And the. He sat down in the sand, shivering and searching through his bag, swallowing any pills he could scrounge together from different, mostly empty pill bottles. He laid down and curled up, bony body pressed to the encarved log as he watched the waves. He had always loved the water...
He let the pills try and run their course instead of taking heavier drugs to stop it all.
He deserved to suffer with his thoughts and regrets..go out slow..
Though he did find a blade in a front pocket. Relief washed over him and he sliced from wrist to elbow on his right arm, the. The same a little more ruggedly on the left. Finally, blue eyes closed and tears fell and everything began to grow hazy.but he couldn't help begging that Attyston stay in his room, not come looking. Hecouldn't help his apologies to Adam.

[Attyston Thomas]

I sit up as I hear the front door close, blinking in confusion. Had I really heard the front door close. I slide out of bed, pulling on a pair of tight jeans before exiting my room. the bathroom door was open and I peer in. It was empty. My brow creases as i continue down the hallway to find Jascaar on the floor surrounded by drawings and other little things. I check the kitchen. no one. It was obvious Connor had gone. I sit on the couch, putting my head in my hands. I knew that I should just let him go, maybe it'd be better for both of us, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if he did happen to do something.. extreme. I finally stand and go back to my room, pulling on a shirt and grabbing my car keys before heading out, reaching down to gently pat the albino kitten before I left.
I get in my car, starting the engine. I didn't know where to go. I didn't know where he'd be. Certainly not at his Dad's. Londyn had said something about the beach, his brother being killed there. It was worth a shot.
-le drive-
Soon I find a parking spot and get out of my Honda, starting across the sand without bothering to take off my Toms. I go back to where Connor and Londyn ahd been less than a week before, a string of curses slipping out of my mouth as I see a form still beside a log carved with his brother's name. I rush over, squatting down beside him, shaking his bare shoulder. "Connor." I say, flipping him over onto his back. Oh, God, he better not be dead. I didn't know what I'd do if he were dead. "Connor, fucking answer me." I continue, growing desperate.

[Deleted]

Connor was barely conscious when Attyston shook his shoulder. He was rolled onto his back, bare body sprawling in the sand, arms stained with the blood from still bleeding arms, as was some of the sand around him.
He groaned blearily. Glassy eyes opened, terrified when he realized Attyston had found him, that he was still clinging to life.
He gagged, but forced himself to keep the pills down, slurring apologies under his breath.
Connor couldn't find the strength to get up, to even care what happened at this point. He was tired of upsetting people, of living with cravings and addictions he could barely go hours without.

[Attyston Thomas]

I freeze at the crimson sand that was stuck to his arms. He had. I should have known. I shouldn't have left him. This whole damn thing was my fault. If I hadn't been sos tupid- no. I shake my head. I had to get him to the hospital. Connor's slurred apologies shake my out of my thoughts. "You're going voer my shoulder." I say, not knowing what else to do. It was obvious that he couldn't stand. I stand and bend over him, gripping my arms around his waist. I count to five in my head before heaving him over my shoulder. Admittedly, Connor didn't weight much, but I wasn't known for my strength.
I grab his bag before jogging back the way I'd come, glad that it was early in the morning. There weren't many people on the beach to see. I pull open the door to my Honda, laying him out on the back seat before slamming it shut and rushing over to the driver's side. "Don't you dare fucking die on me." I growl, looking back as I reversed out of the parking spot.

[Deleted]

Connor mumbled under his breath, about Christy and his father and how he didn't want to go to the hospital, sidn't want strange people touching him.
But he was out of it, and losing a lot of blood.
Blue eyes closed again as he was laid across the back seat, one arm hanging off, the other resting across his thin stomach, blood slowly trickling to pool across it.
His breaths were slow and..his face at peace.

[Attyston Thomas]

-after drive-
I park outside the Emergency wing and turn the car off, not knowing quite what to do. Finally I toss Connor over my shoulder again, closing the door with my foot before starting up. A nurse meets me half way up, apparently having seem me struggle across the parking lot. she hurries back inside to get a wheelchair before we start in, me following behind with a concerned look on my face. What would happen if Connor actually died? It would all be my fault, because I yelled at him. Why had I had to do that? Why couldn't I have just taken it from him and left? Why had I had to drink last night? That was probably what had started this whole situation. And it was my fault.

[Deleted]

Connor was barely awake as they wheeled him down the hall, feebly trying to complain, fight of the nurse who took him into ICU and hooked him to oxygen and ivs. But he had no strength.
Almost instantly she was cleaning off arms that bled just as fast. He was already numb from the drugs in his system, mentally hoping she wouldn't think to pump his stomach, that Attyston wouldn't have noticed the empty pill bottles on the beach.
She stitched both arms from wrist to inner elbow and wrapped them in gauze, checking that he would be able to stabalize on his own and asking Attyston what had happened, if he knew anything else that might be wrong.