Warning: Includes drug use

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He told himself he needed it. That it was the only thing that would make him feel whole again.  The one thing that could piece him back together.

He told himself that.

But really, he just couldn't stand the pain, emotional wreckage, he was currently feeling. He needed something to dull it.

If he had known he would end up on the bathroom floor, numb and unable to move, he wouldn't have done it.

But that was a lie. He knew that.

He would have taken it anyways. Crushed it up and snorted it, just as he had.

He had to admit, it was still an amazing feeling.

He felt like his soul was out of his body, like he was floating and perfectly content, no sign of sadness anywhere.

But he was paralyzed, couldn't move. Which meant he couldn't hide the evidence sprawled out on the sink counter.

The razor, little tube, pill bottle, and who could forget, the powdery white substance that had mostly gone in his system, but little remnants were still left behind.

What had started out as a reckless accident quickly turned into a terrible addiction.

A night of depressive thoughts and last minute solutions became a regular Saturday when he had nothing to do and the itch to comply heightened.

He had been clean for 6 months. Half a year of no drugs and a good life. Half a year with Bryce.

Completely conquering his addiction with little steps and words of encouragement from the man who had given him a reason to live.

But all that crumbled when his old dealer had found him in a bar, alone, looking a bit miserable without his savior.

And he was. Bryce was on a trip for a week, some family thing, which left him alone. And as much as he begged Bryce to stay, to make sure he stayed clean, Bryce just smiled and kissed him, telling him he had the willpower to say no without him for a few days.

Oh, how he was wrong.

He tried to hold back, he really did, but when Luke found him drinking some low alcohol fruity drink, sulking in his seat, well, you know the rest.

He wanted to say no, he meant to even, but Luke was a tempting man with persuasive words, and soon he found himself speeding home to cherish the illegally bought substance in its respective little pill bottle.

He didn't really know how long he had been lying there. It felt pretty long. It was already light out, and he vaguely remembered it being dark when he came home.

He couldn't check his phone for the time, it was on the counter in the kitchen, and there was no way he was getting over there. Not like this.

All he could do was lie there until his high wore off, until he could finally pick himself up and pretend none of this had ever happened.

It was his fault, really. He was over excited, he didn't take the proper precautions, didn't think about the consequences. He just crushed it up and let it in his system, as much as possible.

Did he overdose? Is that why he couldn't move?

It would make sense, seeing as he didn't stop after just two.

Or maybe his body was unaccustomed to the substance? That couldn't be, it's not like he hadn't taken it before.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he heard a door open and close, and he could tell without a doubt that it was the front one.

If he wasn't drugged out of his mind, he would have been extremely panicked at the moment. It could've been a burglar, or worse: Bryce.

But all he could feel was a sense of detachment and the familiar floating feeling that left him with no worry or panicked thoughts.

He knew though, that he should be worried if, by any chance, it was Bryce.

The blonde would be so disappointed, disgusted with him. He hated when Bryce was upset with him. And this? Well, this could very well ruin their relationship. And without their relationship, he was done for.

With what he would call a good effort, Ryan tried to pull himself up and out of his dazed state. But, all he accomplished was a small groan and a tilt of his head.

He exhaled slowly as there was a knock on the bathroom door, internally cursing himself for not locking it.

The voice on the other side confirmed his suspicions, and he found himself sobering up a bit, mentally, at the sound of his voice.

"Ryan? Are you in there?"

All sense of floating and content fell, and Ryan was left with a flipping stomach and worried thoughts running through his mind.

How the hell was he going to get out of this one?

He wasn't.

"Yeah..."

He could practically sense Bryce tilting his head at his dull, slow voice, knowing the blonde would begin to piece things together very soon.

The door knob twisted, painfully slow, and the door began to open a bit, all while Bryce talked, suspicious tone very evident.

"I know I'm home early, but my mother said I could leave to come back t-"

When the door was fully opened, Bryce's words were cut short by the scene before him.

Ryan was on the floor, still as ever, eyes trained on him, half closed and pupils blown wide. There was a bottle of pills on the sink top, next to the utensils used to do what Bryce could only gasp at.

He dropped his bags at the door and slid down on his knees next to Ryan, lifting his head to hold it in his lap, noticing how heavy he had become, like deadweight.

It didn't take him very long to realize Ryan had accidentally overdosed on those pills, now paralyzed and unfocused in his lap.

He took his pulse and noticed how unbelievably slow it was, and reached for his phone, speaking to Ryan as he did so.

"Jesus Christ Ry....what the hell did you do?"

Ryan internally flinched, closing his eyes for a moment and swallowing, thinking of what to say.

He hated it when Bryce swore at him. It made him feel useless, like he was a disgrace. Bryce rarely swore, only at the worst of times, and it didn't help Ryan one bit.

He urged himself to speak, words lethargic and a bit jumbled, but Bryce understood perfectly.

"I....did something...bad...."

Bryce nodded, sighing carefully, stroking the sides of Ryan's face. He wasn't mad at him, just scared for the man. And who could blame him.

Ryan had been doing so good, he was 6 months clean, almost 7.

He had gotten his life together, his mind together, everything had been okay, minus the withdrawals and begging for one more high, but that had passed.

Until now.

Bryce blamed himself. Ryan had told him he couldn't do it without him, and instead of staying to calm his nerves and keep him sober, Bryce just laughed and left him to his own devices.

And now his boyfriend was on the floor, with God knows what in his system.

"Brycey....I....I'm sorry...."

Bryce watched as tears welled up in Ryan's eyes, and as he dialed 911, he kissed the brunette's forehead, using a hand to run through the brown locks he loved so much.

He had the phone on speaker, listening to it ring, holding Ryan in his lap, his own eyes beginning to become wet with  un-shed tears.

"It's okay, Ry. I'm not mad, ok? Just...just stay with me, alright?"

Ryan nodded, watching Bryce's lips move as he described their current situation to the police, and he couldn't help but frown at the tears that made their way down the cream skin, onto his own.

He especially hated when Bryce cried, it was the worst sight in the world. It was like a thousand puppies dying to him. It was horrible. And now it was happening.

His lover was nearly bawling, eyes red and voice cracking with worry as he spoke on the phone, and the fact that Ryan had caused his pain hurt him more than anything in the world.

He watched sadly as Bryce nodded with the dispatcher's advice, his sniffles mixing in with the low speaking on the other side of the line.

When the call was completed, the blonde wiped away his tears, getting himself together for his boyfriend.

Bryce was continuously checking Ryan's pulse, as he was told, making sure Ryan could hear him, having him talk every time he asked.

He was holding Ryan rather tightly, as if he was afraid Ryan would let go. And he was.

He was terrified.

This had never happened before, it had never been this bad. Even when Ryan was constantly using illegal substances, he had never been so bad to the point of paralyzation.

A couple tears slid down Bryce's cheeks onto Ryan's head, and the older male swallowed the growing lump in his throat, looking up at the blonde with sad eyes and a hopeless smile, trying to end the crying.

"Brycey...?"

Bryce sniffled, checking his pulse once again, and looked down at the dilated hazel orbs, nodding to signify that he was listening.

Ryan cleared his throat, blinking away tears, not liking how his voice cracked with worry for their situation.

Can you....do something for me? I promise it'll.....it'll help."

Bryce gave a small nod, hugging Ryan's limp body to his chest tightly, burying his head in the comforting brown locks and mumbling into them a quiet, "of course, Ry. Anything." that Ryan could thankfully hear.

The hazel eyed man exhaled, opening his mouth and moving his head ever so slightly, it was all he could do, leaning back into Bryce's chest as he spoke.

"Just smile......I really need to see you smile right now...."

Bryce closed his eyes, exhaling lightly and running his fingers along Ryan's arms, smiling weakly at him, it was all he could muster, but Ryan took it nonetheless, relaxing as best as he could, trying to stay awake, listening to Bryce's breathing.

He relished in the feeling of warm fingers on his skin, rubbing up and down his arms with careful touches. He felt his eyes droop a little, and tried to make a conversation, one he could try and stay awake to.

"I'm scared..."

Bryce nodded, becoming impatient with the ambulance that was supposed to be on its way, and kept the conversation going, for his and Ryan's sake.

"It's okay, Ryan. You're gonna be okay."

He felt the hazel eyes on him, the voice soft, sprinkled with a bit of fear, "Promise?"

Bryce nodded quickly, looking out the bathroom window as red and blue blinking lights shined outside, accompanied by a loud siren that jolted Ryan awake.

"I promise, Ryan. Just stay awake so these guys can help you, okay?"

They could hear footsteps throughout the house, and Bryce was glad he had left the door open. He heard some voices close by, and shouted out for them to come to the bathroom.

As a few paramedics rushed into the bathroom, Ryan shut his eyes, his stomach flipping and throat becoming extremely dry. He felt Bryce's grip around him loosen until he was no longer there, and instead standing by the door with his hands by his mouth.

Ryan looked to him, keeping his eyes locked on his as a couple paramedics checked his pulse and shouted some medical terms he didn't know, checking his blood pressure and asking him questions too quickly to process.

When they asked him if he could move, his only response was a tear down his face and a quiet, "I need Bryce."

They repeated their questions but it was always the same, and Bryce just stared back, hugging his purple sweater tighter around himself and letting his own tears fall as he realized what Ryan was saying.

They eventually brought in a gurney and placed Ryan onto it carefully, rolling him quickly out of the bathroom, with Bryce following on the side, holding a paralyzed hand all the way to the ambulance, where they lifted Ryan up and began hooking him to various machines.

They asked Bryce what he had taken, and the blonde vaguely remembered looking at the label of the bottle, marked as "Special K".

With the newfound information, the paramedics inserted an I.V into Ryan's hand, talking to each other words that Bryce could never understand.

He took a seat beside Ryan and smiled down at him, relieved when he received a weak smile back. Bryce gripped his cold hand, speaking quietly, so only he could hear his words.

"I love you, Ry."

Ryan swallowed harshly, his vision growing spotty, and he knew he was about to pass out, or worse. He spoke quickly, voice barely there, but Bryce heard him.

"I love you too, Bryce...I'm sorry....I did this..."

He was glad that the last thing he saw was Bryce's hopeful smile, and while he didn't know what was to happen next, he held on tightly to Bryce's promise that he would be okay.