Relapse / Recovery

Issues

It seemed like a good plan to them: go to the studio and stay out til 2. Get back home by 3. Then just sleep in like they always use to do. Shouldn't be a problem, they'd done it so many times before. Marshall knew that he had had trouble sleeping and usually didn't get to sleep until 3 or so anyways so it was harmless.

Or so he thought.

You'd think that after spending hours grinding in the studio that he'd be tired. And he WAS tired but that didn't mean anything. That didn't mean his body would let him get a full night of rest. The morning snuck up on him and despite his attempts to stay asleep, he woke right up. It was still early too. It was only a bit past 8. He was use to getting only 5 hours of sleep at this  point but it still irritated him. He dragged himself out of bed hoping that maybe he'd be able to fall back asleep after he went pee. The world seemed a bit foggy. He knew he still had to be tired because his head hurt and felt almost out of body. Like he was awake yet not all at the same time. Maybe even a bit delirious. He stared down at his crotch even after he was done. He held himself in his hands, almost forgetting that he was done and needed to go back to bed. His body felt heavy and he leaned against the sink while washing his hands. As he moved his head to look up into the mirror the room shifted around him.

Something was up.

Quickly he made his way out of the house, across the yard, and over to Dre's. His hand gripped hard onto the stair ledge. If he fell, he needed to be able to catch himself. If he passed out, he needed to be sure he wouldn't fall down the stairs. He held onto the stairs and stayed relatively low as he went up. Once he reached the top step he made sure to get away from them. All they were were a hazard right now.

"Dre?"

He tried to call for help but barely felt like he could. He spoke softly. His feet dragged, nearly tripping on the wood floor. He just had to made it to the end of the hallway. That's it. He didn't bother to knock. He had enough trouble as is just turning the doorknob.

"Dre." He said again softly

"Yeah?" Dre asked but was met with no response

Dre sprang up shortly after realizing something was wrong. He grabbed Marshall and pulled him over to the bed.

"Marshall? Are you okay? What do you need?"

He could hear him. But he just couldn't do anything about it. His vision shifted in and out of focus and the blood in his temples pulsated.  He was gonna pass out. He could feel it. It was alright. He was on the bed. Dre had him. He could hear him but he couldn't figure out now what it was Dre was saying.

Electricity.

That's what it felt like. It was like suddenly someone had shocked him with electric volts making his muscles spasm out of control. He looked in front of him and all he saw was a blur. He wasn't sure if it was because his vision was blurring or if it was because he kept moving his head uncontrollably. His shoulders shifter forward so that he was slumped over. He felt a weight press against his chest from what he could only assume was Dre holding him up. A collection of random thoughts ran through his head, then they were gone. Like a dream they vanished and he couldn't remember what they were even about. His vision fully blacked out for a second. It was like his body reset itself and was suddenly back to normal. It took a second for him to come back to full consciousness. For the time he just sat there confused. He blinked as he regained his vision and raised his brows. He moved his mouth and scrunched his nose until he could fully feel his face again. Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. He wasn't really sure why he was tearing up. He really wasn't sure what happened. He continued to just sit there and blink. He could hear Dre again kinda. His friend began to pull his head towards him but stopped himself. Dre instead scooted closer to him and gently held Marshall's head against his chest.