Dave Henderson (devotee) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-11-21 20:37:00 |
|
|||
Current music: | leave out all the rest - linkin park |
When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.
Who: Dave Henderson and Dylan Hayes.
What: Marijuana has a big mouth.
When: Saturday, 9 PM.
Where: Dylan's apartment.
Warnings: Possible language, drug use, etc.
The seven o'clock run had gone off without a hitch, although Dave had been extremely distracted throughout the entire thing. Marijuana had told Dylan. Told Dylan that Dave was close to death. It had shaken the mortal far more than Dave wanted to admit to himself; Marijuana was present in his system, could see what the heroin was doing to him, Dave's boss knew what was going to happen and furthermore, Dave could feel it himself. His body was simply... winding down. He could barely eat - the brownies were slowly becoming useless when it came to helping his appetite - and was constantly tired. Every time he slid the needle into his arm, Dave wondered if it would be the last time. But it hadn't happened, not yet, and Dave was left to watch the calendar anxiously and hope that he had time enough to finish his book, train Cam to take his place, train Wes to take Cam's job, and, most importantly, let Dylan know how much he loved him.
It simply wasn't fair, to know that death was coming and not know when. The how, that was simple. His love and his life; taken by Heroin and heroin. The outcome of everything that had happened over the past nine months simply wasn't fair. But Dave, after manipulating a guilt-ridden Marijuana into spending some time with him once they were back from the run, eventually shooed the downtrodden Drug God from his apartment. It was all he could do not to shoot up and fall asleep but Dylan wanted to see him, to talk to him. Dave tried to convince himself that Dylan wasn't going to leave him because of what Marijuana had said, to save himself from the pain of dealing with his eventual death, but as he slowly plodded up the stairs to Dylan's apartment, he wasn't doing so well.
Scratching at the insides of his arms, pushing hair out of black-rimmed eyes, Dave knocked quietly on Dylan's door. Deep breaths, that was the most important thing. Deep breaths and the memory of Dylan smiling at him, before this whole mess.