Punk's Not Dead

Sid and I eventually decided to go take a walk in the park. I hoped it would remind him of our childhood and the great times we had. He seemed really shaken up from Nancy's death, and he really looked like he needed to get his fix.

I just wanted him to get better. I'd do anything to make sure he didn't take anymore drugs. I couldn't stand losing him. Sid needed someone to take care of him, and I just had to be that person.

No matter how big the responsibility would be, I accepted it. Sid needed me now more than ever. He was falling apart, and fast.

Finally, we got to the park and sat down in the grass. He seemed very out of place.

"Sid, what are you going to do with your life now?" I asked him, hoping he would say something positive.

"Nothing, maybe do myself off," he mumbled.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Sid Vicious was talking about suicide. I grasped his shoulders softly but tightly.

"Sid, I want to take care of you,"

A recognition appeared in his eyes. He looked a little relieved and very happy.

"Really Maxi? After all that we've been through?" He asked, like a child about to be scolded.
"Of course, Sid Vicious..."

I leaned in and kissed him softly.