Who Shrooms, Jord, Marijuana's dead body/alive!Marijuana, Heroin, Flora, Death, Dave Henderson. Umm, open to friendlies, I suppose? Where: Highway basement When: Monday evening Warnings: Death, hard drugs, language.
Marc's body was lying in a pile of dirt that had spilled from the wall as Dave tore off a piece of dry wall. There was a needle lying on the floor, a length of tubing and Dave was curled up next to the cold body, puffing away on joint after joint after joint. The heroin, after eight years of non-use, rushed through his body like a bullet and he was high but he wasn't and all he knew was that Marc needed to be okay. Apart from the gratitude for saving his life, apart from the friendship and the money and the amazing sex, Dave loved Marc, truly and deeply.
But there had always been something wrong. The first six months that Dave had worked for Marc, he'd seen the ageless man get gunned down twice and walk away from it like nothing had happened. There was that lightbulb flash in his mind, the one that told him everything he had been too smart to connect over the years and he knew, oh he knew, but that was for later.
All that mattered now was Marc and Dave checked his pulse again only to find it still gone and he sobbed, pressing his head down against Marc's chest as he continued to toke, needing to know that things would be okay. The guards were everywhere, all around the block and everyone in the apartment building had already been alerted to toke as much as was humanly possible.
Would it help? Dave prayed to his Catholic god for the first time since his stepfather had thrown him out on the streets at the age of fifteen.