requested by and dedicated to bleed-the-freak
i started this when her username was still Tolkienite3791, i just had to change it and :(
and she was actually one of the first people to request an imagine from me, ah the memories :')
and Layne is her LOVE so i really hope i did this right!

***

The time between a show ending and the band getting backstage isn't usually that long. They say goodbye to the audience, wave a little, and then run backstage to refuel on whatever food and drink they can find. It's a fast process, because the band is usually exhausted.

But the guys were taking an eternity to come off stage tonight. Or at least it seemed like it. I checked my watch and found that only a minute and thirty-seven seconds had gone by since the last song ended.

Thirty-eight, thirty-nine... Where are they?

No need to worry. It wasn't like they were never coming back; they would eventually. Only tonight I had been rendered incapable of being patient and waiting. I had to talk to Layne. Soon.

I loved Layne with all my heart. We had always been so close, and he had never let me down. He had such a beautiful and interesting soul, and I remembered how fun it had been to fall in love with him.

I was whisked away from my stroll down memory lane when the band suddenly burst into the backstage area of the venue. Mike was first, followed by Jerry, Sean, and finally, Layne. As soon as my eyes landed on him, a little bubble of happiness rose in my chest. That always happened when I saw him; it seemed my heart would never tire of loving him. And though the rest of me wanted to listen to what it was begging of me and keep quiet so I wouldn't risk losing him, I cared too much about him to do so.

After a lot of congratulating the guys on their performance, they sat to rest for a bit. Sean milled around looking for a snack, eventually managing to find a box of crackers.

"Layne," I said when everyone had calmed down, "can I talk to you? It's kind of important."

He looked up and blinked, nodding. He uncrossed his arms and gently took my hand, leading me to another part of the backstage area.

"Alright, what's up?" He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms again, furrowing his brows and leaning forward a little. I paused to appreciate his stance for a moment; that was how I knew he was really listening.

I drew in a long breath and hesitated. Where should I even begin? "Layne... you know I love you. So, so much, and I don't wish for anything but for you to be happy... and healthy."

"Oh no," he dropped his head. "Please don't tell me you wanna talk about--"

"No, I don't want to. But we have to. Please listen to me, Layne. This isn't some petty habit that I just don't like, this is serious. Your life could be in danger, you know that?"

He lifted his head a little, now looking down at the floor rather than straight at it. His eyes shifted for a moment and he appeared to be in deep thought. One corner of his mouth turned up and he scoffed through his nose.

"What? I'm not kidding, Layne. I don't like seeing you like this--" I suddenly found myself unable to continue. A horrible lump had formed in my throat, making it impossible to speak. Tears sprung into my eyes as what seemed like a very distant memory began to play in my mind.

Of course, Layne was there. It was a rainy day, and we were sitting at home, watching and listening to the drops of water hitting the window. Layne was resting his head on his fist and was looking at me as he smiled a gentle smile full of love and genuine happiness. He'd looked healthy and had a lovely little glow about him and his features. My eyes stung even worse as I looked up and faced what he had become.

His eyes were hollow and there were dark rings around both. His cheeks were sunken and his normally soft hair was tangled and looked just as dead as he did. He'd lost a lot of weight, and he was paler than I'd ever seen anyone. Oh, Layne...

He heaved a very heavy and tired sigh. "Then stop looking," he said, sounding more tired than I'd ever heard him sound.

"Don't," I said, my tone hardening just the slightest bit. "Is this some kind of game to you?"

"Of course it's not a game," he said, his voice darkening as well. "Nothing about this is."

"Then stop acting like you think it is."

"W-what do you want me to say, (Y/N)? To do? You think this is easy?"

"Of course I don't think that," I snapped. "I'm watching you go through it. We live together, remember? Or have you forgotten?"

He put a hand over his mouth and nose and dragged it down, rubbing his chin in what looked like a forceful and probably painful manner. His leather jacket rustled and his watch flashed under the bright lights as he did.

"Something has to change. You can't go on like this forever--" He started to shake his head and look down. "Look-- no, look at me, Layne." He looked up and those hooded dark eyes met mine. They weren't the eyes I knew; they weren't the eyes of the man I'd fallen in love with. Once again, I found it hard to continue, but I managed. "This has to stop."

He looked back and forth between my eyes, nodding slowly. "Okay. Yeah, it does. You can come and get your stuff whenever." He turned and started to walk down the hallway, back to where the rest of the band was.

"Are you serious?" I called after him. "Is that really how you want to leave things?"

He stopped and faced me, his darkened gaze cutting through to my soul. After a moment of silently staring at me, he quietly said, "yeah. I guess it is."

And he left. I seemed to be rooted to my spot. My feet were cinder blocks and my legs felt so stiff I feared they'd snap if I tried to bend my knees. The stupid lump in my throat had come back and my eyes were stinging so much they might as well have popped. I felt like crying, but I just... couldn't.

It wasn't possible. Layne couldn't have chosen his addictions over me. He'd told me loved me...

...didn't that mean anything?

When I finally found the strength to move, I turned and slowly headed for the back exit. I didn't really feel like hanging around, so I left the venue.

I wasn't really sure where to go at first. Layne and I shared a home, and I wasn't about to go back there, despite his invitation to come and collect my things 'whenever.' So I went to my mom's house, hoping she wouldn't mind.

Luckily, she didn't, and she tried not to ask too many questions about the state I was in. But I knew she really wanted to know, so I told her about Layne. Not everything, because I didn't want her to think too badly of him, but some simple facts.

"I just don't want to believe it's over," I said when I had finished recapping. "We're good together, but he's... changed..."

"People change, sweetie. But maybe he just needs some space. Give it time; maybe he'll see what he's missing and come around."

"I don't know about that," I sighed, staring at the floor. I think he'd miss his poison more.

She stroked my hair and sighed as well. She stared at me for a moment with what I knew was a look of pity before walking away to her room.

I shook my head as I thought more about it. I'd walk the world for Layne and at one point it had seemed like he would do the same, but that period of time was probably over.

I got up and went to my old room, sitting down on my bed. I gripped the edge of the mattress and thoughtlessly pulled at the fitted sheet. When my mind finally started up again, it was only able to form negative thoughts.

I shouldn't have left. Layne needs help, not for me to abandon him while he's like this. How could I have just left him? He's still in danger of losing his life.

But he made his choice. I'm not going to force him to let me stay in his life. It's his life, and if he doesn't want me in it, that's fine by me.

No it's not. It's not and it never will be.

Unable to reach a good state of mind, I leaned back and sank into the bed, figuring I'd spend the next few hours wrapped up in my blankets moping and uselessly trying to think of ways to feel better.

* Three Days Later *

Well, that obviously didn't work. I had finally stopped crying, but I still felt awful. I spent every waking minute thinking of Layne. In fact, it wasn't limited to my time in the waking world; he appeared in my dreams too. Well, the ones I was able to have, because I'd hardly gotten any sleep.

But that was it. I didn't care what he'd said about this all ending. I was determined to help him whether he wanted me to or not. I loved him way too much to let him succumb to the darkness. I didn't even want to be in a relationship with him at the moment; it would only complicate things. I just needed to know he was going to be okay.

My mom was at work when I decided to get up and go see him. I was crying again, thinking of how he was more than likely to reject my help. I ignored those feelings and went for the door.

A gasp escaped me when I opened it and I hurried to wipe my eyes and nose. Layne was there, his hand raised as if he had been about to knock.

"Layne," I said, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat and asked, "why are you here?"

"I was wrong," he said quickly. "I didn't mean what I said. I don't want you out of my life; I'd do anything to keep you in it."

My heart started beating a little faster as he spoke, but I stopped myself from immediately throwing my arms around him. "I thought you said it was over."

"I know, I know," he said, "but that meant nothing. You're everything to me and I can't afford to lose you. I'll quit everything, I promise. I really want to. I just don't want you gone. And I don't..."

He looked down and I heard a wet little sniff. My heart sank when I realized he had stopped because he was crying. I looked for something to say as even more drops were squeezed from the corners of my eyes. He was quicker though, and he spoke before I could.

"I don't wanna do this anymore," he said, his voice wavering. "I'm tired of the drugs and I'm tired of letting them control me and my life. Most of all I'm tired of watching your constant disappointment at the fact that I'm just too weak to quit on my own. I wish I could. I wish I could leave it all behind and just be with you. I wish I was someone else..."

"No, stop," I said, unable to keep listening. I put my hands on his arms and held them there. "You're great the way you are, Layne. You're just sick right now, but you're going to be okay. You want to quit, right?"

He sniffed again and nodded silently, more tears rolling down his pale cheeks.

"Well then you're already making progress. Everything's going to be okay, I swear to you. I'm gonna help you, and you'll be just fine."

"And can we—can we give 'us' another try?"

I moved my hands away and sighed. "Not any time soon."

His head dropped forward again. "I get that. I'm sorry I let you down."

"No, you didn't. It's not your fault. I just think that we should work past this before doing anything else. You don't need more on your plate. You should focus on what you really want."

"What I really want more than anything is you."

"No—" I ignored the little flutter my heart gave. "You need to focus on quitting. We can give it another shot when you're better, I promise."

"You'll be tired of me by then." His voice was tinged with agony, and it hurt to listen to.

"I'll never get tired of loving you, Layne. I just got tired of being second to the drugs. But when it's all over I promise I'll still be around to love you as much as I always have, if not more."

He finally looked up, his glassy eyes holding a little more clarity than they had in the recent months. And for the first time in a while, there was hope in them.

* Some Time Later *

Rain was pouring, hitting the window in heavy drops. Clouds covered the city, seeming dead set on stopping the day from being sunny. No matter what, however, they couldn't stop the day from being absolutely lovely.

A cute little fire was roaring away in the fireplace. The smells of chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate wafted through the house as the sound of thunder rolled through the house and filled my ears along with the record player spinning soft music.

"Thor's back on his shit," Layne said.

I put my book down and laughed. "Shut up. That was lame, Layne."

"Not half as lame as that was. That doesn't even rhyme."

"Let's not go down that lane, Layne."

He leaned back a little as a gale of laughter consumed him. "I'm sorry I said anything."

"You better be," I replied, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.

We were sitting in front of the fire, both reading. He was reading some car magazine. I was rereading The Hobbit for the millionth time. He was sitting facing the fire, his legs stretched out in front of him. I was sitting perpendicular to him with my legs over his (I had been trying to stop him from moving his legs too much because he'd scared our dog away doing just that). We both had blankets draped around our shoulders and shared one covering our legs.

"This is probably really random," he began, "but I feel... peaceful. I really like this. Thanks for being here and living this with me."

"You're welcome. I don't know how I put up with you." We had a laugh before I went on to say, "I'm only kidding. I actually feel the exact same way. I'm glad you're here."

A tiny smile formed on his face and he said, "all thanks to you."

I didn't speak as I stared at him with a little smile of my own. The glow had returned to his face, and his hair was silky last time I'd checked (earlier that day). He was also at a healthy weight. His eyes were bright and as beautiful as they'd been the day I'd met him.

"I love you," was the only thing I was able to muster.

He put down his magazine and wrapped his arms around me, placing a kiss on my forehead. I took a quick peak at the number of the page I was on before putting the book down next to me and settling into his hold.

"I love you too. I know you just looked at the page number." His body shook a little as he laughed. I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me before I pressed myself even further into his chest. We stayed like that for a while, listening to the storm carry on and the fire softly crackling and popping.

And when he kissed me, it was better than it ever had been. It no longer felt like he was rushing through it as some kind of obligation before his next high; he was there in the moment, and my heart was full.

Until the dog came back and knocked my mug of chocolate over.

Don't worry, Layne shared the rest of his with me. And I didn't forget what page I was on. 

***

I'M REALLY REALLY HOPING I DID THIS RIGHT. and i hope it's not toooo cliché either.

until next time!