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It was silent the moment Mike entered the kitchen.  His look was disheveled, his eyebrows curled and that brown haze glazed over with sadness.  Both Briana and Layne could tell that he was feeling guilty.  Upset.

High.

It always seems to help.  The rush of it first hitting you really does silence your thoughts, causing your emotions to flatten.  But once the rush is over, you still feel it...  Only that negative feeling that once had overwhelmed you was replaced with remorse. 

It's a vicious, ugly, and dangerous cycle.

Which made Layne and Briana feel even more empathy towards him.

When mike took a seat at the table, he couldn't bring himself to look at the couple glaring back at him.  Instead, he kept his eyes on his measly plate of food.  He knew that Briana knows now.  It was obvious by how quiet they both got once he dragged himself in there.

"Mike..." Layne moaned out.  His voice was pinched with anxiety.  He began to thump his leg nervously once the brunette finally looked up and met his gaze.  "We need to talk..."

The bassist reached up to scratch at his neck.  The opiate high he was currently experiencing was making him itch like crazy.  He had taken oxy instead of H a few hours ago.  The pills oddly made him itch even more.  He would've mainlined, but he was running out of injection spots and he'd rather not waste that rush by snorting instead.

"Layne told me what's been going on," Briana piped up. She eyed mike down. She took in how he was slumped over the table. He was back to staring at his untouched food. "I know that you're still using..."

Mike bit his lip. "When do you want me out..." he slurred out, his voice hoarse and low. He rubbed his nose for a minute, catching a look from Layne. "I can't leave tonight. I'll have no where to go... I gotta call my sister, she might be willing to take me back in..." he sighed and shrugged.

"We're not kicking you out," Layne stated firmly. He smiled a little when he took in the confusion on his best friend's face.

Mike quickly glanced back over at Briana. "What's the catch?" He asked her. He raised a brow. "I'm not going to twelve step meetings. That shit just makes me want to get high even more..."

Briana smirked. "It depends on where you go..."

"I've been to fucking plenty," mike spat. His eyes quickly widened when Layne shot him a look. "Not that I'm dismissing what you're saying or anything!" He corrected himself.

She couldn't help but to laugh. "It's fine, Mike." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. A glimmer of approval shined in her green eyes when Mike's finally met them again. "I understand..."

"Oh yeah?" The brunette humored her.

Layne couldn't help but to laugh at his hesitation. "She's a recovered addict. She really does get it..."

Mike didn't say anything. He kept his gaze on Briana. His thin body leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his aching stomach.

"We need to get you into treatment," Briana said.

"Treatment never worked for me," he argued.

She raised a stubborn brow. "That's because you never took it seriously."

"How would you know whether I took it seriously or not?" Mike spat back at her. "You weren't around the times I went inpatient. You weren't around when I was seeing specialists and going to groups."

"I know because I've fucking been there," Briana snapped back at him. She wasn't going to take his shit. "I've been to treatment many times, too. But in the back of my mind, while I was going through detox or talking to a therapist, I was still creating excuses for myself. I was still planning on getting a bag or buying a script. I still lied to doctors to get my own prescriptions..." She leaned forward, her eyes bleeding with what seemed like persecution. "You can do this. It's a matter of whether or not you want to do it."

"And what if I don't want to?"

She shared a look with Layne. "Then you might as well get on life insurance."  Her tone of voice was sullen, yet inflected with anger.  "And expect to hurt everyone around you, including yourself."  She turned back to Mike.  "You think you don't have anyone left in your life?  Well, trust me, if you don't get your shit together, you REALLY WONT have anyone left.  Because no one that loves you is going to be willing to stick around and watch you fucking kill yourself."

Mike grumbled and ran the palm of his hand across his face.  "I'm going to have to detox then..."

Briana and Layne both nodded their heads.

"I'm doing it here, right...?"

Layne ran his fingers through his hair nervously.  "The both of us talked about it for a while...  We don't think it would be a good idea for you to detox at home..."

Mike rolled his eyes.

"You have connections," Briana explained to him.  "You're not strong enough to do it here.  Addiction isn't about willpower—it's a disease.  The moment that you can't handle the withdrawal anymore, you'll head out to meet up with your hook-ups."  She looked at Mike pointedly.  "You know I'm right."

He puffed out air of irritation.  He couldn't look at the two blondes anymore.  He was embarrassed.  He couldn't stand the fact that she knows what she's talking about... 

She knows too much. He felt naked and exposed.

"I'm taking you into my clinic tomorrow," Briana declared. She eyed him down, taking in how upset he was becoming. "We're throwing out your shit. Tonight."

Mike shot up from his seat. He didn't bother to even take his plate and clean up after himself. Instead, he rushed back into his room. He could hear footsteps of the both of them coming after him. It made him urgently slam the door shut and lock it.

Anxious hands rummaged through his stash. He tongued a good 80 milligrams of oxy he had left before Layne had barged the door open. Tears instantly flowed down his face when Layne yanked the orange prescription bottle out of his hand.

"Open up your fucking mouth!" Layne shouted.

Mike quickly gulped the pills down before opening his mouth mockingly (and childishly) at him.

"How much did you fucking take?!" Layne continued. He had his hands clenched in fists.

"Enough," mike slurred out. He tried to act tough, but instead broke down. His tired body collapsed onto the bed, curling up in a fetal position as he proceeded to cry.

"I gotta do it one more time," he whimpered out. His heart ached in his chest. He felt pathetic. "I can't even fucking do a shot, this fucking sucks... I gotta do a shot before going in there—"

"You sound fucking STUPID, Mike!" Layne shouted. His eyes softened when his best friend started sobbing. A shaky sigh escaped him as he took a seat next to Mike on the bed. "We're doing this to help you... You know that..."

Mike quickly covered his face. "I just need to get fucked up tomorrow. I'm gonna feel like hell if I don't at least take enough to be well. I won't be able to handle intake."

"That's fine, I'll take care of it," Briana said. She tapped into the room, quickly grabbing his stash. Her face softened when mike sat back up on the bed. He looked terrified.

"Come on, let me just have enough for tomorrow—"

"That's not going to happen," Briana interrupted firmly.

Mike jolted up from the bed, his face scorching red. "You're so fucking controlling! I'm going to go, I just gotta have some tomorrow for intake!"

She shook her head. "No you don't."

Mike was about to say more, but Briana didn't bother to stay in the room. She was making her way to the bathroom with the drugs clenched in her hands.  The brunette was about to follow her, but Layne grabbed ahold of him and held him down on the bed before he got the chance to.

The rage mike felt was replaced with sorrow all over again. He was bawling. He didn't even realize that Layne was right next to him, holding him tight. With love. And concern...

Briana went through his entire bedroom. She found over three other hiding spots. Though, those times when she found them, mike didn't argue with her. He couldn't stop crying.

When she was finished getting rid of all of Mike's substances, she sat down on the bed with the both of them. Her hand reached to hold mike's clammy one.

"We're going to get through this," she reassured him when he finally calmed down. "Layne and I are going to be here for you. And this clinic is GREAT—you'll get the proper treatment that you need. I'll make sure of it."

Mike sniffled, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. "I'm sorry..." he wheezed out.

Layne and Briana both shook their heads.

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize," Layne said. He squeezed Mike's shoulder. Tears were standing in his blue eyes. "We understand it's scary. You're going to be alright."

"I hope so..." mike whimpered. "...I can't live like this anymore...but I don't know how else to live."

"Well, that's why you're here with us," Briana said. Her emerald eyes glimmered with determination. "We're going to help you learn how."