I love this picture ❤️ from the Dirt days

************

Mike slid open his closet. Before he reached up to get the box, his eyes wearily met Layne's again. His chest burned as he took in the expression on Layne's face. Layne didn't look angry anymore. His eyes had softened, his brows were curled...he appeared to be worried more than anything.

"Come on, show me it," Layne said. His words sliced the cool air, which had thickened from the anxiety radiating from the both of them.

A sigh escaped Mike's lips. Glancing back up at the box on the top shelf, he quickly snatched it and handed it to Layne. He honestly didn't mind giving Layne the drugs...he had another stash hidden somewhere else, anyways.

Shaky fingers flicked the latch of the box. A harsh breath of anger escaped the blonde's lips when it was open. Within it was a plastic bag of off-white powder and an orange prescription bottle.

"You know I'm going to flush this, don't you?" Layne asked.  He kept that blue haze on the poison within the wooden lockbox.  He licked his lips hastily before glancing back up at mike.

The bassist nodded his head, reaching a hand up to scratch at his scalp.  "Yeah...I know..."

Layne stomped out of the bedroom and down the hall of the house.  Mike followed him, slowly anyways.  His skinny body leaned against the door frame to the bathroom, those dark locks of hair covering most of his face.  The flushing sound of the toilet commenced.  And almost immediately afterward, Layne turned back to him.  His face was red and twisted with rage all over again.

He shook the box and empty prescription bottle at Mike.  "If I find out you're STILL doing it after this, I WILL tell Briana," he threatened.  His voice was cracked with sorrow despite the anger resonating from his eyes.

Mike crossed his arms and nodded his head.  "Okay..."

"I fucking MEAN IT, Mike!" Layne spat.  Another groan of irritation gurgled from his throat when he took in Mike's nonchalant expression.  But instead of yelling at him more, he made his way to the back of their house again.  He tossed the lockbox and prescription bottle into the large trash can out back, making sure to place a filled trash bag over it so Briana wouldn't possibly come out here to find the paraphernalia.

It was silent for a moment.  Both of the men just stood there, staring at the trash cans. Before mike could muster something up to say, Layne trudged back into the house. He slammed the door behind him, not even caring that mike was right there when he did.

"Fuck," mike muttered under his breath. He fidgeted with his jacket pockets for a moment until he finally got ahold of his pack of smokes. Shaky hands lit a Marlboro as that long frame slid into one of the lawn chairs out back.

Those raging thoughts ran through his head all over again. Scratching and clawing at him...demeaning him. Telling him that everything didn't matter anymore. He didn't matter anymore.

What's the point?  He's trapped, he's not going to get anywhere. Especially when he's like this.

Mike jumped up from the chair. He stubbed out his cigarette on the ground before he made his way back into his bedroom. He had no idea where Layne was. Worry trembled in his chest as he sifted through his other stash he had hidden.

Apart of him didn't want to. He knew Layne would know. But would he really tell Briana? Mike's lied for him many times...

Would Layne really throw him under the bus like that?

**************

"Work was NUTS," Briana bellowed out from the front door. Her blonde hair was tied up in a tight bun, her white nurse's suit dirty and unkempt. Her slim body slid into the living room, a smile growing on her face when she caught Layne lounging on the couch with a Nintendo controller in hand.

She hung her jacket and purse up on the rack against the wall before turning back to kiss Layne's cheek. A small giggle escaped her when he grabbed her elbow to try to get her to sit down.

"I gotta change, you dork!" She reminded him.

He let go of her and set his controller down. A thick brow wrinkled in dismay. "But I wanna snuggle," he whined.

She laughed again when he started batting his eyes at her. "You're going to have to wait," she said as she started down the hall to their bedroom. "Besides, I smell like B.O.!"

"I like your body odor!" Layne defended, smiling when she laughed again.

The sound of their shower commenced. His blue eyes glanced up at the clock, quickly saving his game and turning off the system. He tapped into the kitchen to check on the crockpot. Briana started a roast this morning before heading out to the clinic. He's been checking on it every few hours.

After the incident with Mike, Layne didn't want much to do with him. He was still angry about it. He had kept to himself the rest of the day, cleaning and working on some recordings.

Layne was about to open the crockpot when he turned to see Briana walking in. Her hair was wrapped in a towel on top of her head. Her body covered in an oversized t-shirt.

A tiny smirk wrinkled his face as he popped the lid open and stirred the food. "You're just wearing a shirt, huh?"

She shrugged. "It's not like we have company."

"Mike's here," Layne said, stating the obvious.

She rolled her eyes. "Like he's gonna care. He's seen me in my underwear."

Layne's head snapped up from the pot. His eyebrows curled in shock. "What the fuck, how did that happen?!"

"He accidentally walked in on me while I was getting dressed," she admitted. She laughed again when she saw the look on her lover's face. "It's not what you think, silly. Once mike opened the door he shrieked like a little girl and ran away."

He laughed at that. "I could see mike doing that..."

Briana grinned as she slid into one of the kitchen table chairs. She rested her head into the palm of her hand. "I think the food's done, babe."

"I'll get Mike..." Layne mumbled before disappearing down the hall. He groaned bitterly as he knocked on Mike's door. All he could hear from the crack of the door frame was classic rock music playing.

"Come on, Mike," Layne called through the door. "Get your dumb ass up, dinner is ready."

The music stopped, the sound of foot steps creaking towards the door. When it swung open, anger overcame Layne all over again.

You could tell he was high. It was painfully obvious by how lazy his eyes were and how he was swaying slightly. He had changed clothes. Before, he was wearing a plain black t-shirt with his military jacket. Now, he was wearing a sweater. Layne couldn't help but to be weary.

"Roll up your sleeves," Layne demanded in a quiet whisper.

Mike forced a laugh. "What the fuck? Why?"

"Don't play stupid," Layne growled. He eyed Mike's arms. "Roll them up."

The brunette rolled his eyes. Defeated, he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. He cringed and squeezed his eyes shut when Layne looked down at the puncture wound.

"What the hell?!" Layne shrieked, though quietly, through clenched teeth. He pushed mike back into his room and quickly shut the door behind him. He didn't want Briana to possibly overhear this...

"I thought I told you not to fucking do it again," Layne spat. He crossed his arms, glaring at mike like he was an unwanted cockroach. "And I thought you told me you weren't banging it? Huh?" He forced an angry smirk. "What'd you do, just start today?" He asked, sarcasm drenching his voice.

Mike groaned in frustration. He fell back onto his bed, his eyes squeezed shut. He was tired of looking at Layne. He already knew how the man felt about him now, anyways.

"Go ahead, tell her," he slurred out.

Layne clenched his jaw in frustration. He rubbed his temples for a moment, leaning his body up against the door. He knew what mike was doing.

And it was working.

"Just fucking come out to the kitchen and get your food, k?" Layne finally said. He stomped out of the room and back into the kitchen. He didn't bother to address Briana. He got his plate from the cabinet and started scooping meat and vegetables onto it. When he sat down at the table, he jumped when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay...?" Briana asked. She sat down next to him with her own plate, taking a sip of water.

Layne glanced over at her. He could tell she was worried. Still, he forced himself to smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. How was work?"

She raised a brow. Layne knew he couldn't fool her. But he'd hope she would take the bait...

"It was chaotic," she said before taking a bite. "Had to do a lot of intakes AND discharges. One of the new patients was..." she paused. She puffed out air of anxiety. "Let's just say, they weren't too happy that they got transferred..."

Mike shuffled into the kitchen, causing Layne to glance up at him. He narrowed his eyes at Mike, watching him lazily plop food down onto his own plate.

"They were another addict, I presume..." Layne blurted out, making sure to give mike another look before focusing back on Briana.

She nodded her head. "Yup... Meth addict, to be precise."

Layne's eyes widened. "Bet that was a hand full..."

"You would know," mike spat as he took a seat across from Briana. He couldn't help but to smile when Layne shot him the stink eye. "What?" He asked. He laughed a little when Layne's cheeks began to redden. "You have a lot of experience with those kind of people..."

Layne wanted so badly to cuss him out. For vaguely bringing up Nicky. Instead, he kept his gaze on Briana. "I'm guessing he didn't want help?"

He caught another smirk from mike at the corner of his eye. He shoveled in a big bite of food to stop himself from calling his best friend out. He didn't know what Briana would do. And he wasn't ready to just toss mike out on the streets...

"Nope. But it was either jail time or treatment, so he chose treatment." Briana glanced over at mike. He was slumped over the table, his dark hair tussled and his eyes halfway open. She could tell something was off. "You look tired, Mike... Are you doing alright?"

Mike chewed for a while. His eyes slid over to Layne. "Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'm catching a cold or something." He nervously scratched an itch at the tip of his nose.

Layne caught a look from Briana. But nothing further was said about it. They ate the rest of their dinner and spoke about their day. Well, Briana and Layne's day. Mike just sat there and forced himself to eat. It didn't take long for him to come up with an excuse to go back to his room.

All night, Briana kept asking Layne what was wrong. And all night, Layne kept dismissing her questions.

He had to figure out how to handle this...

He had to help him.