Layne tugged Briana down the bright white halls. Tears stung his cheeks as he frantically glanced quickly at the room numbers.

"106, 106, 106," he grumbled through clenched teeth. He groaned when he glared at the other room number. 181. "God fucking DAMNIT, where the fuck is room 106?!"

Briana took control, tugging him down the opposite way he was going.

"Aye! Where are we going?!" Layne shrieked.

"I work in a hospital! I know where to go, try to CALM DOWN!" Briana barked, her face just as distraught as his.

More tears streamed down his face when they both stopped in the middle of the hallway.

There was a doctor & a few nurses pushing out a bagged body on one of the bed strollers. Glaring at the door near it, his heart stopped.

Room 106

"Oh god," Layne whimpered. He stumbled up to the doctor, tugging on his sleeve.

He gave Layne the stink eye. "What?" He spat, not even showing any sympathy at all when he took in his disheveled appearance.

Layne pointed a shaky finger to the body that was zipped up in the bag. "Is..." he paused, squeezing his eyes shut. "I mean was that patient...named Mike Starr...by any chance?"

The doctor rolled his eyes at him. He pointed his pale finger into room 106. "He's right in there," he growled. Before Layne could thank him, he and the nurses hurriedly rolled the dead body further down the hall of the hospital.

Layne didn't even bother to check up on Briana. He ran into the room. His lanky body curled up to his knees. He broke down into hysterical crying once he saw him.

"My god, man, you look like shit what the fuck," Layne cried. He quickly yanked the pathetic excuse for a chair from beside the window & dragged it right next to Mike's bed. He sat down & clenched Mike's hand. "I can't believe you continued to fucking do this. You're smart, Mike, what the fuck?" he whispered, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater.

Mike was hooked up all over. He had the white EKG tags still on his arms & legs & chest & stomach. His index finger was clamped by the wire that connected to the heart monitor. He had 2 IVs in his other arm. Layne grimaced when he noticed a tube peaking out the covers from in between Mike's legs. The dreaded catheter.

He was extremely pale. His eyelids & lips had a blue tint to them. He was very thin. Deathly skinny, mostly just bone. Layne sobbed again when he eyed the track marks running up & down his arms, fresh puncture wounds in both hands.

Layne looked up when he felt the warmth of Briana's hand on his shoulder. He furrowed his brows in despair. "I fucking hate heroin," he growled, suddenly angry when he turned back to Mike.

Briana sighed. "I was hoping when the time came when you would state that, it would be in a more optimistic setting."

"Nothing optimistic about fucking boy," Layne spat. "All it does is kill people. And everyone around them." He checked Briana over only to tear up again. She was crying, too.

They both quieted down when Mike's sunken eyes slowly started to open. He jolted back a little when he saw Layne. "Why are you here?" He grumbled, voice cracked. He grimaced, reaching over for the styrofoam cup of water on the table next to his hospital bed. He took a sip, eyeing Layne & then Briana. "I didn't call you guys, how did you know I've been here?"

"You had Layne in your emergency contacts," Briana answered. Her brow creased with concern when she continued to analyze how sickly he looked. "...are you okay?"

Mike sniffled.  His nose was slightly runny.  His body was shaking.  "Had an overdose," he grumbled.  He took another drink of his water, catching a scared look from Layne.  "Had an oxygen mask on for a while."

Layne's brow curled, noticing that Mike's leg wouldn't stop kicking. Eyeing the tremors of his limbs & the snot running from his nose, he knew exactly what was going on. "Are you withdrawing?"

Mike had tears in his eyes. "They kept injecting this shit into me, I forget what it's called--"

"Naloxone," Briana interrupted.  She bit her lip when she watched Mike's body writhe in pain.  "It's most likely naloxone.  It's an opioid antagonist, it's used to treat any kind of overdose from opiates..."  She glared over at Layne.  Her eyes softened when she took in the extreme amount of concern on his face.  "They probably tried their best to give him small doses to prevent withdrawal, that's why he got the oxygen mask so he could breathe...  But if he was a heavy heroin user, he's going to go through withdrawal."

Layne noticed the sweat trailing off Mike's forehead.  "You want me to take off your blanket for you and set it somewhere clean?" He asked, his voice trembling.

"Oh god, please.  I'm burning the fuck up," Mike muttered.

Layne immediately got up & tugged off the thin cloth-like blanket.  He broke down bawling again when he saw Mike's soaked in sweat body in the blue hospital gown.  He was gaunt as ever.  Every single muscle in his body was shaking.

Briana got up from her seat.  She gave Layne a pointed look.  "I'll be back.  I'm going to grab one of the nurses to see if they could help treat his withdrawal."  She quickly slipped out the hospital room door.

Layne peered back down at Mike. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, holding Mike's hand even tighter. "I'm so sorry, I love you, Mike... Please just keep fighting."

A tired, small smirk creased Mike's scrawny face. "It's okay, Layne," he said.

"No it's not, I introduced the shit to you," Layne barked. Self-hatred drenched his voice. "I fucking talked you into doing it with me again when Nicky left me. You were clean off it for, what, 4 fucking years?!"

Mike sighed. "Layne, I chose to do it. And I chose to go back to it. You just happened to be around when I did."  He wetted his lips. Pain striked his face for a mere moment, his arms wrapping tight around his concave stomach. He suddenly bent over the side opposite to Layne, puking violently.

Before Layne could react, Briana came back in with a couple nurses. They pushed past Layne, viles of medicine clashing against one another as one of the nurses tugged them out of their pocket.

A phlebotomist suddenly rolled into the room with more medication. She yanked Mike's gown up & spun him over, giving him two shots in the muscle of his butt cheek. "Zofran for nausea," she said, watching the other nurse as she typed up the information in the computer beside Mike. "Also Bentyl for the gastrointestinal."

The other nurse finally chose one of the viles, sucking up the liquid & tapping the air out. She stuck it in one of his IV tubes. "Librium for tremors," she informed the other nurse on the keyboard.

Mike seemed to loosen up. His brow curled, though, giving one of the nurses a look. "Why no actual opiate withdrawal medication...?"

The phlebotomist sighed. "It would be pointless after naloxone. That drug kills off any effect possible from any type of opioid medication."

"...when can I get the real withdrawal meds?" Mike continued.

One of the nurses glanced over at the clock. It was midnight. "We'll be able to by breakfast time," she said, glancing back at Mike. "For now, all we can give you is Librium."

Mike nodded, seeming to be slightly upset. All three of them watched as the 2 nurses & the phlebotomist quickly exited the room, slamming the door behind them. Mike turned back to Layne, his eyebrows raised at him. Tears of torture stood in his eyes.

"Seems we have switched places," Mike muttered.

Layne sighed, his head falling into his hand, remembering how all of this began. Mike came over and saved me. He fucking SAVED me, he thought to himself. His eyes teared up. "I should've kept an eye on you," he muttered, guilt weighing heavy on his chest. "I mean, you did that for me... I was selfish, I'm sorry."

Mike shook his head & grabbed Layne's hand. He squeezed it. "You were trying to better yourself. You couldn't continue to watch me do what I was doing... If you did, the both of us would probably be lying in hospital beds right now."

Briana glared around the room. She suddenly noticed something was missing. "Mike, where's Erica?"

He rolled his eyes. "She lost her house a while ago due to being unemployed. Welfare refused to give her unemployment, since her job loss was drug related. She didn't want to live in my tiny ass crummy apartment, so she moved out of town & to pawn off her rich parents."

Layne blinked. "What the fuck, you guys were together for fucking EVER."

Mike forced a strained laugh. "She only wanted to be with me because she thought I was loaded."

Layne raised a brow at him.

"Um, I was in Alice in Chains with you for like fucking 3 years?" He laughed hoarsely at Layne's confused expression.

Layne blushed, laughing lightly. "Oh yeah...duh."

They both laughed nervously together for a moment. Mike's smile suddenly dropped. He sighed. "You were right again," he growled, eyeing Layne with tears in his eyes. "She was just another high class groupie." His chest sank, eyes on his jacket that hung behind Layne.

Layne spun around to see what Mike was looking at. "You want something from your jacket?"

Mike sniffed back a few tears. "Yeah."

"What is it you want?"

"There's a bottle of klonopin in one of the pockets," Mike muttered. He caught a look of disapproval from Briana. He shrugged his shoulders at her bitterly, going back to eyeing his jacket, desperation matted on his face. "I can't feel the Librium, my tolerance to benzos is too high..."

Layne's face burned crimson. He yanked the orange prescription bottle out from the pocket of the military jacket, eyeing the white little round tablets in them. He shared a look with Briana. "But the Librium helped your tremors to stop. It should stop the muscle aches, too."

Mike wetted his lips, his expression now the epitome of helplessness. "I just need a few of those to calm me down," he croaked, almost sounding like he was begging. His eyes were glued to the bottle clenched in Layne's hand. They rolled up to take in the pissed off expression scribbled all over his best friend's face. "Please."

Layne didn't even hesitate. He stomped into the restroom on the other side of the room, dumping the pills into the toilet & flushing it. Sobs escaped him as he just stood there in the tiled tiny room, watching the pills whirl around in the water & get sucked down into the hole.

"What the fuck, Layne?!" Mike shouted. "I helped you out while YOU were in the hospital, why can't you return the favor?!"

Rage surged through Layne. He stomped back over to Mike, his hands clenched into fists. "I AM HELPING YOU!" He shouted.

Briana jumped up, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Layne, calm down--"

"NO!" Layne yelled at her. He turned back to Mike, his eyes tearing up again when he took in the hopelessness in his wasted face. He sighed, the anger quickly leaving him. "You need to stop this, Mike. Continuing to use 'back up' is not going to help at all. It'll just make things worse. It's just another excuse to continue to use." He fell down in the plastic chair, eyeing the tears that ran down Mike's face. "Trust me, I know what you're going through. It sucks right now, but you'll thank me later."

"But I have nothing to live for," Mike whimpered. He squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed & shocked that he just spoke his mind.

Layne gripped Mike's shoulder. "You have everything to live for, Mike. You're smart...you have people who love you, who care about you." He bit his lip, wiping away more tears. "You're so fucking talented and you've been throwing it all away...for poison."

"No one talks to me anymore," Mike blurted.

Layne tilted his head at him, raising his brows when Mike finally opened his eyes to look at him. "That's not true, Mike. What about your parents? Your sister?"

His dark eyes reflected that of extreme worthlessness. "No one, Layne. Erica was the last one & she fucking left me all because of money," Mike paused, his eyes sliding to look over at the window.

Layne could literally feel the vibes of negativity steaming off of his best friend. But instead of cowering away, he leaned in closer to the emaciated brunette. "Mike...there's something wrong, there's something you're not telling me," Layne said. His tone was angsty. He analyzed Mike, how he squeezed his eyes shut again, as though ashamed.

"Mike, tell me," Layne demanded.

Mike forced his eyes back open. He just sat there for a while, his eyes gazing intensely into Layne's. He sighed, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I did this on purpose."

Layne was confused. He turned to look at Briana and sharing a look of concern. He glared back at Mike. "What do you mean..."

"I tried to kill myself."