Disclaimer: Not mine. No profit. Not worth taking to court.
Warnings: This is just pure self indulgence on my part. Angst galore. It contains a sentence or two of m/m sex, although that isn't really the focus of the story. Feedback (of any sort) is welcome.
Sometimes I wish he were dead. When I look into his eyes and see the lies. The broken promises. The dust of once bright dreams. That's when the thought comes. But I'm never sure whose sake I'm wishing it for. His. Or mine. Maybe both.I didn't want to admit he had a problem. I made excuses for him. Covered for him so the others wouldn't know. Wouldn't know about the way he trembled and shook if he didn't get a dose of it. Wouldn't hear him babbling like a damned brook. And making about as much sense. Wouldn't see the look in those brown eyes. The look of desperation. Of need.
It wasn't so bad at first. He did a good job hiding it. It wasn't until I caught him with his pants down around his ankles, letting some slick, fancy talking city fella fuck the daylights out of him for a few bottles of the stuff that I knew something was wrong.
He begged me to help him. Swore he could do it. Could give it up. And I believed him. Wanted to believe. Needed to believe. But I found out real quick that he would swear to just about anything. He might even mean it. But he couldn't do it. There were always plenty of excuses, too. Especially in our line of work. I heard them all. Over and over and over. And despite everything, I would hold his sobbing, shivering body in my arms and promise him another chance.
Another chance to destroy both our lives. That's what I was really offering. We both knew it. We just couldn't help it. Or rather, I couldn't help him. Sometimes I wasn't even sure he wanted to be helped. But I couldn't just walk away.
I was almost glad when the others found out. Now it wasn't just my secret anymore. Or his. Not when Nathan caught him stealing the stuff from the clinic red handed. I wasn't sure how Chris would react or even what I was hoping for. That my old friend would scare the bejeesus out of the kid? Scare him enough that he'd be afraid to touch the stuff ever again? Maybe. Or maybe that he'd lock the kid up? Take the matter out of my hands? Accept the burden of responsibility? I don't know. But he didn't do either of those things. Instead, he told me and Nathan to stay with the kid til he was clean. Tie him up. Whatever it took. So that's what we did. Spent a week in Hell.
A week of hearing JD scream til his throat was raw. Of watching him vomit blood and bile. Of changing him when he lost contol of his bodily functions. I've had better weeks. So has Nathan. And we were both veterans of a long and bloody war.
For a while, it seemed like everything was gonna be ok. JD was spending a lot of time out at Casey's. Or so we thought. Until I rode out there one day looking for him and a bewildered, angry young girl looked at me with a world of pain in her eyes and told me she hadn't seen him in weeks.
I knew, then. Knew he'd gone back to it. It was only a matter of time before the others knew it, too. Now it was just a question of whether I would tell them or let them find out on their own.
As it turned out, I didn't need to tell anyone. It's a damn good thing Vin survived or Chris might have killed the kid on the spot. And Chris don't need no more pain or guilt to live with.
Why, JD? I know you respect Vin. Like Vin. Hell, you like all of us. Love all of us. So how could you take the stuff, knowing it messes you all up? Puts you in a fog so bad that you can't watch your friends' backs? I don't understand. I hope to God I never do. I don't want to understand it anymore. I just want it to stop.
The others have given up hope. Chris lets you stay in town, as long as I can keep you out of trouble. But I don't know how much longer I can do this. You've already lost everything that used to be so important to you. Friendship. Honor. Respect. Your place with the seven. Your job as sheriff. Casey. Your dreams of becoming a Texas Ranger. Everything.
And me? I've lost you.
I look ahead and all I can see is an endless road to nowhere. A lifetime of selling yourself, body and soul. A lifetime of constant betrayal. Of disappointment each time you promise to give it up. And then fail to keep that promise.
Can I live with myself, knowing I let you walk down that road alone? Can I live with you? With only the memory of the kid I used to know?
I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I just know I'm tired. Of life. Of this. Of you. Just tired.
THE END
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