Scar Tissue [2Doc]

//12//

"-so then Mr. Pot, we have 12-step programs we can offer to you for addiction help."

My mind wanders and my body aches as the doctor babbles. I feel like shit. I can't seem to stay focused. I look at the trees blowing slightly in the wind outside the window and chew on my bottom lip.

"Although we can't force you into a recovery program, and you can choose to refuse the 12-step program, you still need to go through therapy."

I glance at the doctor, his eyes fixated on my scar covered arms, the hospital rags doing me no favors in covering my secret.  Noodle sits in the corner on the room, bobbing her crossed legs and chewing her nails anxiously, listening closely at what the doctor has to say.

"Okay," I manage to push out softy. I look back out the window, my body twitches involuntarily.

"Doctor."

"Yes?"

"Can I have some more meds?"

I hear the doctor scribbling some notes down before answering. "Of course. I'll send a nurse in right away."

His foot steps echo away as he reaches the door to exit. "Ms.-?"

"Oh please, just call me Noodle."

"Right. Ms. Noodle, a moment if you will, outside?"

"Of course. 2D I'll be right back."

"The nurse will be with you in just a moment Mr. Pot." The doctor calls out as he shuts the door.

And with that, the room becomes empty. I let out a sigh as I finally stop focusing on the outside world and bring my mind back into the dreary hospital room. The growing headache I have causes my head to spazz and twitch. The cuts on my arms, along with my self-made needle injections, begin to itch furiously. It only makes my body ache even more.

I scratch away eagerly, but perhaps too eagerly, because the newly fresh cuts pop open and begin to bleed.

"Shit."

The scratching didn't even relive the itching.

I push myself out of bed the best I can and head towards the bathroom, taking my IV drip with me. My whole body feels sore, I feel so incredibly weak.

I lock the door behind me and begin to wash away the blood off my arms slowly. Luckily, there wasn't much. The reflection of my hands in the mirror suddenly catch my attention and the feeling of panic and fear soon engulfs me.

Don't look in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror. Don't look in the mirror.

The mental struggle I have with myself is futile as the curiosity gets the best of me. Slowly, I pick my head up and come face to face with my reflection. 

It's crazy. What drugs can do to you. You stare and stare and stare, at the person that's supposed to be you. But you seem just soo... unfamiliar. 

I touch my face slightly, watching my reflection as my hand moves across my face. My skin is pale, my hair is disheveled, my lips are cracked, my eyes are empty. Suddenly, I feel completely and utterly lost.

Who the fuck are you? Look where you're at. Look where you wound up! Heroin? Seriously? How fucking stupid are you 2D?  Fucking idiot. Stupid fucking idiot. You made Noodle cry! You fucked your relationship with Murdoc! You should've just gone through with killing yourse-

"Mr. Pot?" An unfamiliar feminine voice and a soft knock erupts at the bathroom door, interrupting my toxic train of thoughts. I freeze. 

"Mr. Pot are you okay in there?"

I find my voice quickly. "Y-yes ma'am. 'm just using the loo."

"Alright. I've brought your medication with some water. I'll set it on the bedside table for you."

"Thank you," I call out quietly. 

I finally look back down at the sink only to realize the water had been running the whole time. I quickly shut it and make my way out of the bathroom. The nurse is loitering by the door, I assume she was waiting for me to exit the bathroom. She smiles at me and finally leaves the room. 

I return to bed and snatch the pills from the bedside table, quickly swallowing them. Although the medication isn't definitely subduing these painful feelings of wanting to shoot up again and wanting to feel the absolute nirvana I experienced, it does fine enough where I don't feel like pulling my hairs out, just as I did when I first arrived at the hospital.

It's only been a couple of days since then. I'm going to walk out of this place with more problems than when I came in,, but at least I'm not half dead anymore.  

////

As I exit the large building that is hospital, I quickly pull out a cigarette from my purse and light it. I inhale the nicotine as I walk to my car, leaning against it when I get there. I open my purse once more to retrieve my phone and dial Murdoc's number. 

I scuff my heel against the pavement as I listen to the phone ring, waiting for an answer. To my surprise, he doesn't pick up the phone. So I dial again.

"Hello?" A groggy voice soon erupts from the other side of the line.

"Murdoc? Are you okay?" I can't help but to ask. 

"'M okay love, just waking up." 

I inhale my cigarette, it makes my lungs feel heavy. "Why are you still asleep? It's well past midday." 

"Late nights I guess." He yawns. "How's 2D doing today?" 

"Better I think. Although he's been quiet, he's responsive when the doctor talks to him. But there's no doubt about it, he doesn't want to go to rehab. It might be a problem."

I glance at the rehab pamphlets the doctor gave me sticking out of my purse. I mentally sigh. "They're going to discharge him soon. Too soon I worry. He just doesn't seem himself Murdoc. I'm not sure how easily he'll cope. They're going to let him go with prescribed medication for the withdrawal symptoms and a therapy plan for the next couple of months but ahh, I don't know. I'm thinking I'm going to move in with him, just for the time being for extra precautions. I don't want him to be by himself." 

The stress of the whole situation suddenly hits my shoulders like a pound of rocks. I scratch and pull at my hair slightly. "God, why did this have to happen?" I say ever so quietly, putting a hand over my eyes.

"Noodle."

"Hmm?"

"I-I know this might be asking for a lot but, please keep an open mind. You're getting really stressed over 2D which is understandable, but I worry for you love. Let me live and take care of him."

"Oh, Murdoc I don't think-" 

"No no no, hear me out! I feel immensely guilty for everything that happened. Inevitably, It was all my fault. I want to make amends with 2D, I want to make things right. I know I've been really shitty over the years, but I don't want to keep living with this guilt and sorrow anymore." Murdoc inhales deeply. "Noodle, I shamefully fell in love with 2D, but my rotten brain is only now coming to terms with it."

My cigarette in hand freezes its path to my mouth upon hearing his last sentence.

"There might not be anything in the world that can forgive how horrible I was to everyone, and especially him, but I think this is my chance to prove that I'm not the absolutely horrible goblin I made myself out to be. Please Noodle. Let me take care of him."

It takes me a couple seconds to processes Murdoc's words. Tears suddenly swell in my eyes and a chuckle manages to escape my mouth. I don't understand the emotions that decided to show through, but I think some of it was relief. "Wow,, okay. Was all of the really genuine?"

"It was!"

I take one last drag of my cigarette before tossing it and shoving it into the ground with my heel. "Okay. I'll drop by your place tomorrow to pick you up and bring you over. You guys can talk about then."  

I can almost make out the smile in his words as he spoke. "Thank you Noodle."