Rock Bottom

I didn't get any sleep that night, even though I pretended to be sleeping soundly whenever Sam came into my room to check on me, which she did periodically throughout the night. I just lay there, curled up beneath the covers, shivering uncontrollably. I'd not been able to have my usual fix, because she wouldn't take her eyes off of me. I needed it. I craved it, and my body was letting me know that I couldn't do without it.

Everything ached. I felt like I'd run three marathons right after each other. It had been almost twelve hours since I'd shot up and I was watching the clock, praying that she'd just go to bed so that I could sneak downstairs and get my release.

No such luck.

She stayed up all night, coming into my room at least once an hour to make sure I was still there. It was horrible. It felt like I was being tortured, and in a way, I was. She was going to make me go cold turkey and I knew it. She had no idea how difficult it was to just give up. It wasn't a choice I could just make. Addictions didn't work that way.

By the time she came to wake me up in the morning, even though I was already awake, I'd been scratching at the skin on my arm beneath the covers, literally itching for a fix. I hadn't even noticed I was doing it until I rolled out of bed and Sam pointed out the red stains on the white sheet.

"Zack…?" She frowned, moving closer to the bed and drawing back the covers to see more specks of red. "What did you do?"

Unsteady on my feet, I trembled, clutching my arm and shrugging. "I… I dunno."

She sighed and moved to me, reaching a hand out slowly toward my arm. I flinched instantly and recoiled away from her touch, almost falling into the wall behind me. "Zack…" She spoke softly. "It's going to be all right. We'll get you through this."

She didn't understand.

It wasn't as easy as just keeping me away from the drug and expecting everything to be fine. I couldn't just stop like that. I'd missed two, maybe even three, fixes already. I was sweating, I was shaking, and she was being so calm about it all. I felt like screaming, but I didn't have the energy to do so. Instead, I shook my head rapidly, wrapping my arms around myself. "I…I need it, Sam," I told her, and sounded more desperate than I'd ever heard myself before.

Her head shook and she reached out to me again, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You don't need it," she told me, like she had the night before. But I did. I needed it. I needed it more than I needed anything else. "We'll get you through this, Zacky, I promise. You're not on your own."

"Y-you don't get it," I told her, shaking my head again. "You don't understand."

My hands rose to my head and I gripped my hair with my fingers, pulling at it and clenching my teeth as she just watched me. "It's going to be hard," she said softly. "It's going to be real hard, Zee, but you're stronger than you think. You can do this."

"Don't make me go cold turkey, Sam," I almost begged, shaking my head again. "Don't. I can't do it. It'll kill me."

"Try, Zacky," she shot back at me, placing her hand on my arm and pulling it down from my head. "You told me you'd try, and you're doing good so far." She eyed the scratches on my arm and ran her fingers over them softly, making me wince a little with the sting.

I wasn't doing good, no matter how supportive she was trying to sound. The only reason I hadn't ran downstairs in the middle of the night and shot up was because she was watching me like a hawk and I knew that if I even tried, she'd stop me. I felt like Hell. My body was screaming at me to give it what it wanted, like it was threatening to just give up on me and shut down if I didn't.

"I'll try," I told her, echoing what I'd said the night before. "I'll try, I will, but it needs to be gradual. You won't like me when I'm crawling the fucking walls."

It wasn't an excuse. I was trying to protect her in some way. I'd tried before. I'd tried months ago to kick the habit and go cold turkey. I managed a couple of days and looked and felt like death. I didn't want her to see me like that. I didn't want to snap and lash out at her because I wasn't getting what I needed. If I was going to do this, and it didn't seem like I had a choice, then it would have to be slow. I'd have to come down gradually, and be weaned off of it. I couldn't just STOP.

Her head shook and she guided me back to the bed, making me sit down on the edge of it. "You made it through the night, Zack. That's a huge step. You CAN do this, I know you can. I believe in you and I'm here to help you. Don't shut me out again; don't push me away and give up."

I looked down at my trembling knees, clasping my hands together between them. I appreciated that she cared, I really did. She was about the only person who did now. Everybody else had given up on me a long time ago and I didn't blame them. In fact, I'd been kind of glad of it at first. I was happy that I'd been left alone to do whatever the hell I wanted to without being lectured but now… now I was being reminded that there was still someone who cared, and guilt coursed through my veins, where the Heroin should have been.

She moved her hands to my face, cupping my cheeks and lifting my head up to make me look at her. "This stuff is going to kill you," she told me sternly. "I don't care if you hate me for this, but I'm not letting you carry on with it, Zack. I'm not going to lose my brother to some stupid addiction that I know he's strong enough to overcome."

"Sam…" My voice was just as shaky as my body was now, and I felt like bursting into tears. It took all I had to hold back. I didn't want to break down and make myself look even weaker in front of my little sister. "Just let me…" I scratched at my arm again, clawing at the veins that so desperately longed to be fed.

Before I could even finish my plea she cut me off, shaking her head. "No. No more. Not now you've come this far." She grabbed my hand, stopping the scratching before I had a chance to draw more blood.

"Y-You make it sound like I'm clean," I said, sighing. It had only been one night. One night without junk and she was talking as if I'd done a whole week.

"You are." She smiled softly at me, and leaned down to kiss my cold, sweaty cheek. "From this moment forward, Zee, you're clean. I told you, I'm here. You don't need that stuff. We'll get through this together, OK?"

She wrapped her arms around me in a solid embrace, but I didn't return it. I couldn't. My strength had all but vanished. I nodded my head weakly, already tired of arguing her point and begging for gear. No matter how much I pleaded, she wasn't going to sit back and watch me shoot up, even though it would make me feel better and would help me through the day. I wasn't getting any, and I knew that how I felt was only going to get worse. It was going to get harder, it was going to hurt more, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop it.

Suck it up, Vengeance. She's not going anywhere.