Died (Layne Staley ❤️)

No Place to Call Home

The Present -- November 1996

Layne woke up to the familiar aching pains of opiate withdrawal. Glaring around the spare bedroom of his parents' house, he sighed, remembering where it was. He slid over to the closet, biting back the nausea that was trying to retch its way up his throat as he quietly pushed around some of his bags. Finally, he found his black pouch & unzipped it, yanking out the vile of dilaudid & a syringe.

He slid back to the bed, those tired, sickly eyes eyeing the needle longingly. "Last one," he muttered to himself.  "Going to have to clean it...see about getting more..."

He sighed, his eyes watering as he forced himself to suck up the fluid from the vile with the syringe. He bit onto the needle as he pulled out a shoe lace from his pocket. He tied it around his wrist, his other hand searching urgently to try to find a vein. A grumble escaped him when he realized he'd have to shoot it in his other hand.

Right when he was about to untie it, the door swung open. Layne's eyes grew to the size of watermelons when he took in the irritated look on his older sister's face. He yanked the syringe out of his mouth.

"Liz... What are you doing here?" Layne blurted, his face scorching red.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mom told me she finally got your stubborn ass back here," she eyed the syringe gripped in Layne's hand. "What the heck is the matter with you?!" she shrieked through clenched teeth.

Layne rolled his eyes. "I'm tapering myself off it."

She laughed mockingly back at him. "Sure you are," she spat. "You've been tapering off it for what, 6 years now? Or has it been 5? Sorry, starting to lose count now."

"Just get the fuck out," he growled, shooting her a look to kill. She slammed the door quickly behind her, his heart pounding now. He wondered if she would tell Nancy. Still, he went back to continuing his work, untying the shoe lace & tying it around his other wrist.

A small, sick smile wrinkled his face when he finally found a vein. Wouldn't have to bang it in my feet yet... he thought to himself. He slowly injected himself, his cheeks turning a rosy pink as it shot through his system. His eyes went lazy & glazed.  He only laid back in the bed for a few minutes, having to remind himself he was staying at his parents' house. Quickly, he slid back to the closet & zipped up the vile of dilaudid & syringe needle into the black pouch. He pocketed the shoe lace, sighing with relief that no one else decided to rudely barge into the room.

He pulled on a black hoody, making sure to cover his hand with the sleeve before exiting the bedroom. As he made his way into the kitchen, he collided into his step father, Jim. His face burned as he watched his step father eye him.

Jim's brows raised, a grin growing on his aging face. He obnoxiously messed up Layne's hair, laughing lightly. "You gay now, Layne?!" he bellowed, pointedly eyeing Layne's pink locks of hair.

Layne laughed, his brows raised as he slid into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He lit a cigarette & exhaled the smoke. "Oh, yeah dad. Totally. Sorry, forgot to tell you last time I saw you that I was a fag. Assumed you already knew."

Jim smirked & poured a cup of coffee. "I don't understand why you kids continue to dye your hair like that. You look like an Easter egg."

Layne rolled his eyes, though he was still smiling. "Maybe we got a thing for Easter, k? Don't judge..."

"I know for a fact that a lot of you have a thing for REDUNDANCY," Liz spat from the couch in the living room.

Layne sighed, catching a look from his step father. Jim's brows furrowed. "What's her problem...? You guys get into an argument this morning?"

Layne shrugged, hot boxing his cigarette. He wasn't in the mood to make up another lame excuse. Especially considering the fact that Liz would be able to hear it. He didn't know whether she would call him out on it & cause yet another family argument over his drug use.

"Want a cup?" Jim asked, breaking Layne's stoned trance.  He raised his coffee mug at Layne.

His brows raised. He shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Kinda tired."

"Wonder why you're tired!" Liz continued.

Layne's dim eyes widened again, making him turn to look at her at the couch. He tilted his head at her, giving her a pleading look. "What are you talking about, Liz? I slept fine last night..."

She laughed, ignoring his begging look. "Bet you did sleep GREAT last night, Layne."

"Liz, could you chill out on the attitude?" Jim snapped, lightly handing Layne a mug full of coffee. "Layne just got here, he's tired... He's been going through a heck of a lot.  I thought you were coming to support your brother, not make him feel guilty."

Liz jumped up from the couch, her face beaming red. "Maybe I would be a little nicer if I didn't walk in on him banging drugs into his veins!"

Layne's face fell in his hands. "Damnit, Liz..."

Jim sighed. "We all know he's still doing it, Elizabeth."

"Wait, what?" Layne shrieked, his head snapping from his hands.

Jim raised his brows at him. "It's kind of EXTREMELY obvious, Layne... I mean, have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?"

"So why did mom want me to come back here then? If you all knew I was still going to use?"

"Because we care," Jim said, smiling down at him. He gripped his bony shoulder. "We're going to help you detox at home."

Layne's eyes widened. "...detox?"