Stay out of it

It was a tough pill to swallow as he made it clear that it had been Elaine. She actually wouldnt have thought that there had been much to worry about when it came to some ex lover, but now it seemed that she was very wrong about that. What would their future be like? Would she have to worry more? She liked that he held her close as the memories made her shudder to fight the feeling of fear building inside. He promised her that there would be revenge. But that didnt quite soothe her worries. “What if that only makes it worse?” She asked, because that was maybe what worried her even more. Sure, she would probably worry for a long time that she wouldnt be safe again, but how safe would she also be if he avenged her and pissed off someone else in the process?
She just decided to wrap her arms around him and feel his touch as he so soothingly touched her. It was odd, how they didnt have to speak, but just being close and feeling each other could bring so much comfort. He spoke and she lifted her head to look at hin, frowning in a slight worry. The question was valid enough, but would she be able to be without him now? “Whatever you’ll be like, I want you here with me.” She confessed and she didnt mean that lightly. Even if she’d have to sit with him and see a whole new side of him. “You’ve already seen a side of me that I’m not too proud of. I feel like we should also know each other when we’re not at our best.” she sighed, touching his face gently.

"Well with the Barley Brothers and the truce with them I can't see who would be interested in working with those two knuckleheads," the Daniel he knew wouldn't risk it, though Marcus was a wildcard so they never really knew what he would do. Only time would tell, but he wasn't going to let this be unnoticed, "regardless, they are never coming close to you again, I promise." That was a big thing to promise, but frankly his team had innitiated the safety of her after he had gone on a binge. He owed them a lot. He owed them Daniel and Marcus' head just as much as he owed it to Emily.
The intimacy they shared was one of those things that Rhys still had a hard time wrapping his mind around. Being in her embrace made him feel strong and yet so safe. It was a feeling that was hard to describe. He chuckled softly at her reasoning. "I guess it's fair," he shrugged, leaning in to kiss her nose, her cheek and finally her lips. Taking a second just to endulge himself in her, his hands grasped softly at her. He felt like they had a lot of kissing to make up for, but he wasn't worried about that. "I need you to do something for me, princess," he whispered against her lips, keeping his eyes closed. What he was about to ask of her could maybe seem strange, but he knew he wouldn't be strong enough to do it. "You need to pat me down; The drugs you find I want you to flush down the toilet," he whispered, feeling ashamed he even had some on him. But how could he quit cold-turkey if he knew in the back of his mind where he could find more?

She shrugged lightly as he said that Daniel and Marcus would be on their own. Surely that could change all depending on so many things. But Emily didnt know enough to really say whether she agreed or not. So she just deemed that Rhys knew best about this kind of stuff. The promise made her eyes soften up a little and she just nodded. She didnt doubt that he would do his best to prevent it.
Even if her reasoning hadnt been fair, she still wanted him to stay here. Regardless of how he would be, she didnt want him to deal with it all on his own. When his kisses reached her lips she kissed him back, sighing softly, feeling the happiness from being close to him really bloom inside of her now. The whisper made her open her eyes to look at him, humming softly to let him know she was listening now that he kept his eyes closed. The request made her frown a little but without a doubt would she do it for him. "Okay." she said with a nod, hugging him a little closer at the thought of it. "What do you have on you?.. Unless you want me to find out myself." she asked, moving her hands to free him a little, placing them on his shoulders to gently rub them.

He felt like this was a big thing to ask of her, and her question was completely valid. Only he wasn't too sure. "I guess we'll find out," he said, though he was certain he had something on him. "Can we do it now? Just to get it out of the way?" He felt a little embarrassed, but if she agreed and got off of him he would start to take off his shirt. All of the cuts had healed, making the scars on his back more visible. Handing it over to her, he undid his belt, taking the pants off as well. Then he seemed to stop and think about it, looking down he shook his head at himself. He was pathetic, and taking off his socks as well because he knew there would be something in there as well.
That left him standing in his underwear, hesitating to say something, but he eventually did, "I'll have someone drop off some new clothes for me .. And then I want you to throw out that clothes including my underwear," was it really a bad thing? It felt a little wasteful, but then again he didn't trust himself. He had found pills stuffed in between linings on shirts, found small packets of white powder hidden away in the tip of his socks. When you were an addict you learned to hide your stash all over in case of emergency.

She just hummed and nodded. She could imagine that he wasnt too happy about this and yet it had to be done. She agreed to do it now, getting off him to give him some space. She watched as he began undressing, noticing how he had healed to then see the scars. When he handed her his shirt, she did catch a glance at his chest. He was quite attractive even if he felt like a mess right in this moment. She checked the shirt before feeling a spot on it that felt a little tough. She didnt say anything but just noted it down as she placed it next to her.
She just let him handle it at his own speed, taking the clothes that he handed over until he eventually stood in his underwear. When he said that someone would come by with new clothes, she tilted her head and looked him up and down. “I’ll throw it out. But you cant just sit here naked while you wait.” She said like the notion of making him do that was absurd, getting up before she went to grab one of the biggest baggy shirts she had. This one she saved for the bad days when she felt like really hiding away. It was quite simple in a neutral grey colour, softer on the inside. “This one will fit.” She said, coming back to hand to him. “I want you to be as comfortable as you can be. So dont hesitate to tell me if you need something from me.” She said, looking at him seriously.

He barely noticed her lingering gazes, feeling more occupied with the fact he needed to get out of this clothes. She left him for a second, and he didn't really bother covering up. She brought him a shirt and he put it to a side. It was a bit short on him, but it wouldn't really be noticeable unless he started to stretch his hands in the air. "Thank you," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I'll go have a shower, wash my mistakes down the drain," he muttered softly against her skin. He wished he could be romantic about this, but frankly he knew how ugly it was going to get later on.
He wrote a message to one of the goons, instructing the clothes that should be brought to him and that it had to be new with the tags still on. That way he knew it wasn't a shirt he had at home with something hidden within. Moving out to the bathroom he stripped down fully, placing his underwear in the sink for her to check if there was any contraband in them. It wouldn't surprise him at least. Turning on the showerhead he stepped under, not minding that it was still ice cold. It would help his blood run faster around his body, hopefully burning out whatever toxin was in him.

He didnt have to thank her but it made her smile a little brighter. The mutter however made it fade a little again as she wouldnt say he had made any mistakes that needed washing. But if that was how he felt about it, then that was it. She let him go, though the cat seemed rather displeased that he left the room, walking over to sit and wait by the door for him.
She just went ahead and started peeling apart the clothes that had bumps or any kind of oddity on them, though she had to admit that he was kind of crafty with the hiding spots. She wasnt even sure that she would ever get all of them. But she got a few things, that she put in a black plastic bag. All pills and powder in a mix for the toilet whenever he was done showering. She threw the clothes in a different bag and placed it by the door. She sat back down and drew in a deep breath. She hadnt ever dealt with an addict before. She felt a little anxious about it. What if she didnt go good enough in helping him? Rubbing her temples she decided to stay positive.

The shower did him good, because he knew he was in for a rough 48 hours. He was already starting to feel that itch. That need to consume again. But for now he could ignore it, how long would be the question. Coming out of the shower he dried himself off, looking at himself in the mirror. Gods, he hated confronting his own face like this when he was high, but it was worse when he was trying to detox. Wrapping the towel around his waist he moved back out into the apartment. The cat of course seemed delighted, but he wondered how long it was going to like him when he started to have the real symptoms.
He let her go out with the bag, knowing what was in them made his fingers tingle a bit, but this was the right thing to do. Opening a window, he just walked around for a bit, waiting for her to finish when there was a knock at the door. He went, opening the door as one of his men were there, handing over a bag of fresh clothes. In return Rhys handed him the old clothes along with his underwear, telling him to just burn it. It would make it less likely for him to try clawing at it in a dumpster later. He headed in to her bedroom, dropping the towel he had spiraling scars going down one of his leg. As if a vine had once been wrapped around him. Putting on the sweatpants he decided to try the grey shirt that she had given him to wear. It was pretty nice, but he didn't want to ruin it so he took it off, instead picking out a tank top from the bag of clothes.
Grabbing the towel, he moved out to the bathroom to hang it up, then he put the kettle on to make some coffee. It was going to be a long night. "I don't want you to think that you're doing anything wrong," he told her if she had joined him in the kitchen. Light sweat was starting to form on his forehead, sending her a slight smile. His hands were shaking a bit as he transferred the water to the machine. "And keep in mind .. I'm going to get a lot worse before I get better."

When he came out, she grabbed the black bag and went to get rid of the content. It didnt take long, though she did flush a fair few times just to be sure that the powder wasnt lingering. She cleaned the bag in the sink for any residue before she came out into the apartment again. It was just a small studio apartment with seperate kitchen and bathroom, so there wasnt a huge amount of privacy to be had. She did notice the scar on his leg but said nothing.
He went to the kitchen and she decided to join him, noticing already that he wasnt having a good time. “You shouldnt worry about me.” She chuckled. At least not if it was just causing him any kind of stress. She hummed at the reminder, carefully reaching over to touch his lower back. “I’m here for you.” She reminded him, leaning over to kiss his shoulder. She grabbed two mugs that she placed down for him to fill, though she had noticed how he was shaking so she would be watching him. Surely getting burned tonight would just make things way worse.

He nodded, appreciating her already, though he wasn't sure how long he was going to be nice. Withdrawal was a nasty thing, and he was sure he was going to be acting horribly. The coffee slowly ran through and he just leaned against the countertop for a bit of support, pressing down on his hands to make them stop shaking. "It's funny," he muttered, closing his eyes to focus on something calming, "how a pill takes a second to swallow .. but getting off of that shit takes so long, hah." Yeah the shakes were getting worse, sweat forming on his forehead even though he had just taken a cold shower. Part of him wanted to hide away, go shiver away in a corner so she didn't have to look at him like this. He was pathetic, wasn't he? He sure felt like it.

She was watching him carefully, hearing the coffee pour slowly into the glass pot. His mutter made her look at him with a small furrow of her brows. "Hm?" she hummed. He mentioned the perplexity of substance abuse and she looked at him with a saddened look. "Yeah, it's a mean circle." she said. Not that she could relate in any sense, she couldnt. But she could imagine that the easier choice would be the solution to some, even if it made everything worse. "If you want, you can go lie down. I'll handle this?" she suggested, still touching his loer back slow and carefully in a small soothing motion.

He wasn't expecting her to understand. But it was nice to feel that she was there for him. He kept reminding himself that he had done this before, that he could do this and come out stronger at the end. However that was easier said than done. He nodded, kissing her hair gently, but his lips felt so dry, before moving in to the living room. He laid down on the couch, the shivers not doing him any favor, but he felt the pressure on his back taken off as he was now not standing up. His muscles hurt so bad, he tried rubbing them as if it would help with his shaking hands. Part of him wished he could just sleep it off, but sadly he was going to pay for his relapse the hard way.
Just to warm himself a little he grabbed a blanket, placing it over him, however that soon seemed too hot as well. When she would come in with the coffee, he would thank her softly, though his eyes looked a little weak. His breathing also being a bit all over the place, ranging from more rapid to very slow. It was sadly still the beginning phases, so he tried to keep his eyes closed, feeling nauseous from the light, but the smell of coffee helped a lot.

After drinking the coffee with shaking hands, he laid down once more, trying to rest. The hours passed by painfully slow, and every hour a symptom either worsened or a new one appeared. He was sweating quite a lot, his body trying to expel all of the toxins and he could hear how his own mind was begging for another hit of whatever he could get a hold of. He looked like shit, the dark circles under his eyes only growing darker by the minute, the sweat making him look almost deadly sick.
When he felt too restless he got up, trying to move around, but he felt too fatigued to really do anything else, so he ended up sitting down. The world felt like it was spinning and he felt exhausted. Soon enough his body would start to shut down from the lack of sleep, but it wouldn't save him much as his dreams would be just as vivid and torture filled.

She took care of the coffee and brought it in before getting a towel, one damp and one dry so he could wipe his face from the sweat. She sat down not far from him, sitting with her cup as she just decided to get a book that she read while he was dealing with the withdrawal. She did put on the TV to give him something to focus on. She wasnt really sure whether he wanted to be touched, but if he didnt mind then she would put a hand on his lower leg. She didnt want to have him feel that she was watching over him like a hawk. He eventually got up and she watched him. Sighing she wasnt really sure what to do, but surely he would say if he needed anything. He sat down and she lifted her eyes from her book. When he seemingly fell asleep, she helped him lie down, wiping his face with the damp cloth and drying it with the dry one before getting a thinner blanket to cover him with. She touched his hair gently before leaving him be, returning to sit by his side. She did eventually drift off with her book in her hand, just resting her eyes a bit, she told herself.

Waking up in the middle of the night, he twisted and turned, gasping for air as he felt the pain deep within his bones. He wanted to scream. To yell out in pain. But his sounds could only amount to groans and slight guttural sounds. Eventually he got out of the couch, his whole body shaking and making it hard for him to walk, but he made it to the bathroom just in time for him to throw up into the toilet. His shoulders trembling, sweat running down his face and having soaked the clothes he was wearing, he just sat there, emptying his stomach.
His ears were ringing, not really able to hear much as he just felt blinded by the pain in his body. Not only that, but the craving. Gripping around the toilet, he pulled himself up. Staggering around the small bathroom he opened the cabinets. Searching. Pulling out stuff that landed on the floor, in the sink, wherever it wanted. He needed the drugs, he had convinced himself, it would make him feel better.

She did drift off to a real sleep but she was sitting quite uncomfortably on the couch so it wasnt real sleep. She woke up when he got up anyway, mostly because he wasnt exactly suited to be moving quietly in his current state. She rubbed the back of her neck, just needing a moment to wake up, at least until she heard him throw up. She got up and went to check on him just as he began ransacking her bathroom for drugs that wouldnt be there. "Rhys." she said, shaking her head before she began approaching him carefully. "There's nothing here." she told him to warn him, but if he really wanted to be sure, she would let him check, even if it left a mess for her to deal with tomorrow morning. At least she could do that once she knew he would be getting some sleep.

Hearing her voice would've normally calmed her, however his withdrawal brain was getting paranoid. He kept pulling things out, looking between washcloths and towels. "You're lying," he muttered, shaking his head, desperately trying to see if anything was hidden between the toilet rolls. He turned his head to look at her, his face pale and filled with sweat. "It's because you don't really like me, isn't it?" he said, but frankly anything he said right now was coming from a place of desperation and insecurity. He was still shaking, and that was when he began having a panic attack, sitting down on the floor and breathing fast and gasping slightly as his heart started to work double time. She hated him! Why else was she torturing him like this!
He started crying, which switched to anger and then to remorse. He couldn't control his mood swings, but it was clear he was in a lot of pain. He couldn't rest, because even his dreams were messed up! He wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to rock himself to some comfort but he just couldn't get what he needed. "I need the drugs .. I feel like I'm dying .. I don't want to die," he pleaded, feeling the anxiety swallow him up.

She was lying? She could understand that he was feeling desperate to find something but it would all be in vain. She really didnt have anything at all. Some vitamin pills in the form of gummy bears for healthier hair, but otherwise she had nothing. And he could eat all the gummy bears if that was going to help, but she doubted it very much. Then he said something quite unreasonable and she just told herself that he didnt really mean it. It caught her a little off guard, at least she didnt think about her next words, "No it's actually all out of love." she argued, crossing her arms a little as she was serious with her words.
He sat down and she watched him, not really knowing whether to approach or not. But she did go to sit down by his side, reaching out to just place her hand over his. Just a simple touch, to show that she cared but also not wanting to overwhelm him. His pleading made her look at him with sad eyes, humming and nodding. "That's just withdrawal. You're not going to die." she assured him, grabbing onto his hand, giving it a squeeze. "You're doing well." she told him, because maybe he needed to hear that? Even if it didnt feel that way, he was actively not doing any drugs at the moment, even if involuntary for now. "I'm so proud of you baby." she muttered, meaning every word.

He didn't shy away as she sat down next to him, in fact he needed her comfort now more than anything, leaning against her for that reason. His breath hiccupping softly as he was shivering still. His body temperature was rather high, having a slight fever as he was detoxing was normal for him. "I'm so tired," he whispered in a soft complain, his eyes fighting to stay open and yet he felt too restless to really sleep. But perhaps being knocked out for a couple of hours would be a good thing in his case.
Looking at her hand, he tried squeezing back, but it was relatively weak. "Please don't leave me," he muttered, leaning his head over to rest against her shoulder. He didn't smell good in this state, the sweat still pooling on his body and his breath not being attractive at all after having emptied his stomach. "I'm sorry I'm such a burden," feeling his body grow heavier, wanting to drift off to sleep.

The fact that he leaned closer at least was a good pointer that she had been right to come closer. That made her feel a little less lost and she would gladly do what she could to make him comfortable. Even if he was shivering and warm in damp clothes. She didnt mind that at all, frankly she might have been too busy focusing on his wellbeing to notice much else than what else she could do to make it better for him. "I know." she cooed him.
She could feel the squeeze even if it wasnt as strong as he usually was. This was just temporary. And it was raw. It was open and honest. It was real and ugly. But it was also trust. He trusted her enough to let her see this side of him. That wouldnt go without notice. The mutter made her scoff. "I dont think I'd ever want to." she admitted, leaning her head to his even if he was sweaty and it made her cheek wet. He called himself a burden but it was different from his usual mutter. She felt him lean onto her a little stronger and she was sure she would fall over if he put his whole weight on her. So instead she moved to sit a little more comfortable before she guided him to lean over her lap. Sure, it wasnt the best position but how would she be able to move him? "It's alright." she said, grabbing a stray towel from the ground that she used to wipe him off with, even if it was in vain in a few minutes. "You're not a burden to me." she muttered, wrapping the towel around his shoulders, well just the one that was available.

Rhys felt comforted by her words, his body relaxing more while still shivering and sweaty, his mind felt more at ease. He eventually fell asleep where he was, though he would hate himself and his back once he would awake. She could even move him and he would continue to sleep. His dreams were a mess of vivid colors and scary motifs, making him whimper or groan, but he seemingly kept sleeping. Not that it was any good sleep, but it would do him some good at least.

When he finally awoke again, he was unsure of the time. His clothes felt soaked from the sweat, and he could taste his own puke breath. That didn't help with the nausea, but he endured it. He hoisted himself up to sit, leaning his head back against the tiled wall, feeling the coldness of it soothe his burning skin. He couldn't really say where he was, but it also didn't feel unfamiliar. Crawling along the floor he ended up by the shower. His arm reaching up, stretching it to its limit to turn on the cold water that made him whimper. The water might've been cold, but it also helped clean off all of the sweat, even if he was fully dressed. Laying down in the shower, he just let the water rain down on him, not caring about any water waste as this was perhaps the only thing right now that didn't feel too painful.

She didnt know how long she sat with him. Eventually she did get up to go get him a pillow, as her legs couldnt really be that comfortable in the long run. And she felt tired too. But if she went to sleep and he needed her? She would just have to endure it. So she poured herself a cup of cold coffee and just drank it. Caffeine didnt really work on her but it was a pretty good placebo. One of the perks of having once been an actual human was that she could trick herself to believe that she was being energized. She came back with the duvet, spreading it out before rolling him onto it with the pillow, that way he at least wasnt just lying on the hard floor, even if it wasnt much. She sat up with her head against the sink and just watched him. She could make herself zone out, like her brain just sort of went on standby to let the repilitan brain keep her in place. Was that a cool undead thing? She wasnt so sure. When he began moving, she woke up, blinking a few times before stretching. He went in the shower. That was fine by her. She needed a moment for the rest of her body to wake up as well before she moved, feeling her bones crack a little. She didnt say anything but rather just put a hand on him to caress him slowly and gently. Constant reminders that she wasnt leaving him or shying away.

Each hour felt like a chore to get through. Slow, long and incredibly painful for him. His symptoms had gotten milder, but he knew it was just before the big ringer would be brought out ready to really fuck him up. The only thing that didn't feel painful was Emily's presence. She was his rock, and he couldn't even express his gratitude as all functions of speak seemed to have stopped working. He couldn't even look at her, feeling too ashamed and in pain to want her to see his eyes. Because they would give away just how hard this was on him.
It was almost like clockwork. As soon as the first 24 hours had passed, he was knocked down a few notches as he had managed to get out in the livingroom again by that point. He was laying on the couch, writhing in pain, having to just scream in to a pillow as it came in waves. The shakes had gotten worse, his body temperature high as he was having a fever. In general it was clear he was much more affected this second round. He slept a couple of hours at a time, waking up only to feel the pain in his bones resume.

Shaking an addiction was no easy feat, but these 48 hours were always the worst for him. The shakes making him feel unable to really move his body, sweat dripping off of his body as he was too tired to even care how badly he smelled. He had dealt with this one too many times alone, sometimes being close to choking on his own vomit, but nobody had ever truly wanted to be close to him. Elaine had always been angry when he had tried to sober up, so she was long gone by then. And those whom relied on him? Well the best they could do was chain him to a room until he had gotten better. How was he supposed to work with that?
His dreams were vivid, nightmarish at best and filled with night terrors at worst. Shivering and shaking, he felt dizzy, but what could he really do? Whenever he woke up and he saw Emily asleep close by, he would reach out, touching whatever part of her that he could. His hand was cold, but he felt so warm, wanting to say something to her to express his gratitude, but he could barely find the energy to cry anymore.

She woke when she felt his hand, flinching a little but that was because she was pretty sure she hadnt meant to fall asleep just then. Turning her head to look at him, she gently touched his hand. He was still shaking and yet he was spending his energy trying to reach out and touch her. She had an idea, getting up before moving over. The couch wasnt the biggest but she could make it work, lying down beside him, helping him turn if he wasnt already so she could wrap her arms around him and hold him close. Just really have him feel that she was there. “Is this okay?” She whispered. He didnt have to answer, “Just touch my hand if it’s fine.” She told him, kissing his head, ignoring the smell he had because she loved him. And she wanted him to feel good rather than bother with smelling nice. This wasnt about her and she knew that. “I’m going to have to get some kind of food in you. Is there someone I can call?”