Mike and Layne ❤️❤️❤️

**********

His crystal blue eyes bled with need as they met her emerald green haze. Calloused hands, brought on by jamming on the guitar, glided across her soft, velvety skin. Their lips collided once again. It made his heart wrestle in his chest, that familiar warmth of love spreading through his body and making him moan with pleasure. They made out for a while, just caressing one another.

They had gotten home at 10:30 at night. Their date lasted longer than usual. Briana wanted to show him the art gallery downtown. She planned on submitting some of her artwork there. Her goal was to sell some of her pieces on the side whilst working in the hospital as a psychiatric nurse.

She enjoyed working with addicts and sufferers of varying mental illnesses on the ward. She never really had that experience under her belt; the majority of her career was spent patching patients up in the emergency room, either that or working on the detox unit back in Washington state. 

It gave her even more of a sense of purpose and pride to help sufferers of chemical dependency. She got to watch them grow more strength, get healthy, and finally believe in themselves for once. It was comforting to see some of the patients really try to get better. Of course, the job had its downfalls, but overall she loved working there.

Layne was currently working on writing his own music and getting really into photography. He had his own recording studio down in their basement. He was halfway done with his new album. He really wanted Mike to join him in the process of it, but his friend didn't seem to want anything to do with music anymore.

Layne was worried about him.

There was something wrong. He wasn't acting right. He didn't do much of anything and he mostly kept to himself—locked away in his bedroom. Either that or he'd disappear for a couple days, stating that he was "job hunting". Layne desperately wanted to believe him, but he knew better than that.

Mike was his best friend. He could tell when his brother was full of crap.

Briana suddenly glided her hands down his lean torso. Her tiny hand grabbed at his crotch, causing him to moan and break free from his thoughts. Their bodies pressed up against one another, Briana climbing up on top of him to ride him.

They made love for what seemed like only a few minutes, their bodies trembling with an immense amount of euphoria when they finally climaxed.

Layne giggled after he came into her and peered at the clock on their night stand. "Damn, it's midnight already?" He muttered under his breath.

Briana curled her naked body up to him. She wrapped her silky arms around him, pecking little kisses along the nape of his neck. "Time flies by when you're having fun..." she moaned into his ear. She nibbled a bit at it, causing Layne to kiss her once more.

He ran his fingers through her blonde, long hair. His face softened, a grin stretched along his scruffy face. "You're so beautiful," he commented as he cupped the side of her rosy cheek.

"I love you, sweetie," she whispered. Before she rested her head on his chest, she reached over him to click the lamp off on the night stand.

They both slipped into a dreamless slumber. Lovingly holding onto each other like their lives depended on it...

***********

When Layne got up in the morning, he forced Mike to get out of bed and come outside with him. He didn't care that mike seemed bitter about it. He wanted to talk to him, especially since Briana was at work. She had a twelve hour shift today. They had plenty of time to chat with one another.

It was uncomfortably quiet as they both trudged through the trails. The only sound that sliced through the air was the crunching of dead leaves underneath their feet.

It was fall. Layne loved this time of year, especially since they were now residing in Colorado. It was so beautiful here. The trees were orange and red. The air was crisp, the aroma of pine overcoming his senses and relaxing him. It was nice and cool, too. He was finally able to wear his leather jacket without feeling like he was dying in the blistering heat of summer.

Layne suddenly stopped in his tracks. A pale hand rested on his best friend's shoulder, causing him to turn to face the vocalist.

"Mike," Layne started. He sighed when he caught that look of morbid bitterness glimmering bleakly from his deep brown eyes. He knew the bassist didn't want to talk. Still, he forced himself to continue. "What's going on with you? You're acting weird..."

The brunette grunted as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his German military jacket. He hesitated for a moment, pondering on whether or not to tell him. His mouth stretched open, but he couldn't seem to form any words, so he simply just shrugged.

Layne's brow creased with worry. "Come on, man... You can tell me." He caught another look from Mike. It made him uneasy, causing him to scratch a bit at his temple. "I'm your best friend. I'm not gonna judge you."

"If I tell you, you'll be pissed off," Mike blurted out. He cringed, mentally swearing at himself due to his blatant honesty.

The blonde tilted his head at him. "What do you mean...?"

Mike bit his lip. He fidgeted with his hands for a moment. When he peered back up at Layne, his chest fluttered with shame. He hated that look of pity splattered all over his friend's face.  It made him feel even more pathetic.

"I'm not doing so good..." Mike finally said.

A pink tongue swiped across Layne's lips.  "You're not doing so good with what?"

His bandmate groaned.  "I don't wanna talk about it," he slurred out.  He went back to walking down the leaf-covered path.  Those brown eyes widened when Layne violently tugged him back to look at him.

"Fucking tell me," Layne demanded.  He lifted his sunglasses up from his face, those blue eyes piercing through him as they narrowed to slits.

"Fine.  I'll fucking tell you!" Mike spat.  He spread his arms out as if he was ready and willing to get stabbed in the chest by him.  "I'm fucking using again!  Okay?!  You happy now?!"

Layne's head fell in his hands.  He tried his best to contain the anger, his body now shaking. He felt betrayed.

"Mike..." he groaned out when he finally looked back up at him.  The bassist had tears standing in his eyes.  His face was flushed red.  He looked completely and utterly ashamed.  It caused Layne's heart to ache with empathy. A sigh wisped from his parted lips, his eyebrows curled with worry.  "Why?"

Mike shrugged.  "I don't know."  His eyes sheepishly slid to the ground, anxiously studying his combat boots.

"Yes you do," Layne growled.  He shook his head at him in disbelief.  "I thought you were going to try!  Goddamnit!  I fucking knew it!"

He scratched at his nose.  "You can kick me out if you want," he mumbled.  His voice was drenched with self pity.  It caused Layne's heart to drop to the pit of his stomach.  "I don't want Briana to see me high.  I know she'll be pissed off.  I know she'll see that I proved her right—that I shouldn't have came here with you guys."

"How in the heck are you getting it?" Layne went on.  His voice was drenched with surprise. "You don't know anyone here; at least from what I've seen."

Mike bit back a sick smirk.  "There's a plasma center downtown.  I met a group there while donating.  They hook me up with pills and powder."  He stopped himself from continuing when he caught a look of disgust from Layne.  "I'm not shooting up or anything!" He spat defensively. "I'm just popping it mostly...  I do rails sometimes, but I SWEAR, it's not as bad as it used to be!"

Layne couldn't help but to angrily stomp his foot into the dirt.  A grunt of rage gurgled from his throat. His face burnt crimson.  "It doesn't fucking matter if you're sticking needles in your arm or not! You fucking IDIOT!"

Mike's face fell.  He didn't know what to say.  His scrawny body spun back around towards the house.  But before he could head back inside, Layne ran up infront of him and made him stop.

"What the fuck am I gonna do with you?!" Layne shrieked.  His eyebrows were furrowed.  The expression on his face reflected a combination of worry and frustration.  "I can't just kick you out on the streets..."  Tears rolled down his cheek, his hand quickly swiping across his face to dry it.  "I love you, man..."

Mike's chest fell when Layne broke down crying.  It hurt to know that he was hurting him. Layne had already been through so much—he finally was getting his life together. Layne finally seemed happy... and now he has to deal with his fucked up best friend. He's no better than Layne's deceased ex, Nicky. It broke his heart and made his stomach twist with disgust and self hatred.

Mike pulled him into a hug.  "I'm so sorry Layne..." he started. Guilt coursed through his veins when Layne started to sob. "I just don't know how to deal with this anymore.  I don't know how to live like this, it's been too long.  I've been doped up for YEARS.  For almost half of my life."  Suddenly, he started crying with him.  His slim body shook, his bones rattling beneath his skin.  He felt so hopeless. "I can't handle these thoughts anymore, Layne.  My mind won't shut the fuck up.  It's torturing me...  I just want to be happy, but my brain won't allow me to. So I just want to suppress it, you know?"

"But it doesn't WORK," Layne spat.  He pulled back from Mike, his fingers rubbing at his temples.  He had to try to calm himself down.  "You know that, mike.  I KNOW you do.  You've admitted it to me multiple times.  It only makes shit worse."

Mike chewed on his lip for a while.  He didn't really know what to say.  Because he didn't want to stop—he had no interest in stopping right now.  He was tired of trying.  He was too vulnerable anymore to fight this demon; to continue to be strong. It was constantly gnawing at him, whispering repetitively through his head that he couldn't live without it.

Mike didn't have what Layne did. He didn't have a woman that loved him. He didn't have his own place, he didn't have money... He's lost all respect for himself. He thought he found the right girl when he hooked up with Erica. It killed him when she left him all because she thought he had a thick wallet. She only wanted to be with him because he was apart of Alice In Chains back in the early 90's.

He felt unloveable.

"It's helping me keep myself from attempting suicide again," Mike admitted, his voice quiet and meek.  His cheeks burnt red from embarrassment when he caught another look from his best friend.

"You ARE committing suicide!" Layne shouted. He couldn't help himself but to grip Mike's shoulders and shake him. "How long is it gonna take for you to SNAP out of this CRAP?! Quit being WEAK!"

Rage surged through him, causing his hands to ball into fists. "I can't do this anymore!" He yelled. "I can't hold back anymore, Layne! You know how hard it is!" He pierced his lips in anger. His blood was boiling in his veins, shaking his fist at Layne. "Quit acting all high and mighty! It took you fucking FOURTEEN trips to rehab to finally get your shit together! And you've been, what, a year clean?! You could easily go fucking back to it, too!"

Layne couldn't hold himself back anymore. He slapped mike hard across his cheek, causing the bassist's head to snap to the side and his body to stumble backwards. Layne tripped on his words for a moment, his head dropping into his hands once again.

His skull was throbbing.  He was so pissed off and upset that he couldn't even speak. He couldn't believe that Mike would do this. The whole purpose of getting Mike to move with Briana and him was to keep him AWAY from dope. Yet he still finds a way to continue to use? He was flabbergasted. It made his stomach ache with anxiety and fear.

Fear that he'd lose yet another friend from this horrid disease.

Finally, after a while of cooling down, he tugged on Mike's sleeve to get him to glance back at him. "Show me where it is..."

Mike just stood there dumbly.

"Show me where the FUCK it is, Mike!" Layne demanded.

The bassist groaned in defeat. With his head hung low, he gestured Layne to follow him. His chest sunken with dread.