Tom Holland/Peter Parker Sickfics

~ Dope Life ~

TW - mention of drugs/drug withdrawal

Possible spoilers if you haven't seen Cherry as I base some of the dialogue from actual scenes in the movie. (Not word perfect from the scenes I based this off).

Summary: Emily and Cherry are suffering withdrawal symptoms.

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Cherry's Pov:

And when the dope's gone, you get sick.

"Go rob another fucking bank!" Emily cried out from the bathtub, projectile vomiting as if tomorrow didn't exist.

Me? I was shitting blood whilst throwing up into a bucket that sat between my legs.

Weak.

That wasn't the end of it either, there were only so many banks I could rob and so much energy I had left inside of me.

"I'm sorry Baby, I was getting really sick." Became my knew excuse, despite my lack of energy my motivation to rob another one of those 'fucking banks' only increased. But even I had limitations.

Emily was at work, I laid face down on the couch in my sweatshirt and boxers, a throw over my pastey legs. I had gotten pretty used to feeling nauseated and feverish yet it didn't make it less unpleasant. I'd heave with nothing coming up. That's they way it was now.

"Where the fuck were you? You were gonna give me a ride home from the school!" I heard Emily shout, along with a slam at the back door. I shuddered and looked up to see her hovering above me.

"I'm sorry Baby, I was getting really sick." I mumbled as I brought my knees to my chest. I felt physically inside, a void needed to be filled, I needed to be fuelled.

"S-So we have no fucking dope either?" Emily asked in shock, I groaned and rolled my head back.

"S'rry, mmm n't feelin' good." I mumbled, I could barely get downstairs let alone see my guy about stocking up.

"Shit!" Emily cried as she throw her purse as the refrigerator, bringing her hands up to her face as she shivered violently.

"It's okay, Baby. Come 'ere." I said softly to try and calm her, what else could I do? I shuffled up onto my arms so she could sit beside me.

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and kissed the crook of her neck, she felt tense.

"I practically shit my fucking pants in the middle of a class, ride the bus home with puke in my hair." She said in disbelief, partly embarrassment.

"I-I'll go see Pills & Coke."

"That fucking guy, with what cash?" Emily asked me, I could tell she was getting angry with me.

"From another fucking bank, I'll go soon. I promise." I told her as I stroked her hair, resting my head on her shoulder.

I leaned against the couch cushions with her, I felt exhausted from all the vomiting, I curled into her side. I thought back to life before we became drug fiends with a dog. Times were easier, the only thing I thought about was what to put in my sandwich from Subway, now the thought of drugs intoxicated me. Like a poison to my mind.

I just had to keep going.

The echoes of Emily vomiting filled the house, I looked up and saw her leaning over the sink.

"Baby, you good?" I asked as I rubbed my eyes, standing up on my jelly legs.

"What does it look like, dipshit?" Emily spat as she dropped her head into her hands. I went up and hugged her from behind, brushing the hair out of her face. The smell and presence of regurgitated scrambled  eggs hit me like a tonne of bricks, more than it had done before.