She Coyote

*22. Scared

COYOTE

"Jude? Jude, oh my god!" I darted towards the bed, throwing myself onto the mattress, kneeling overtop his body. "Come on, man, come on." I gritted my teeth as I began to shake him by the shoulders. Oh no, please, please no. I couldn't handle someone else I care about dying, not like this, not here.

"Jude!" I shouted, my hands grasping his face. A low, guttural moan escaped his lips and he began slowly adjusting himself. I sighed deeply. I brushed the hair out of his face as his heavy eyes began to open. They were completely glazed over, his expression blank.

I grabbed the pill bottle next to him, reading the label. Damn it, damn it, damn it. I should of known better than to leave any type of drug here with him. What the hell was I thinking?

"Jude, how many of these did you take?" I asked in a very demanding, harsh tone. He closed his eyes again, turning his face away. I grabbed his chin and yanked him back, leaning closer. "How many of these did you take, Jude? These can fucking kill you, is that what you want? Huh? Is that what you want?" My voice increased in volume as my nerves stared to kick in.

"I don't know how many..." he murmured, his voice appearing heavily intoxicated. I knew what zolpidem did to people if they took it and didn't immediately fall asleep. Ambien was a crazy fucked up drug that I only used on the nights I really couldn't sleep. I forgot I even had them.

"Jude, what were you doing taking my ambien? That's fucked up, man!" I shouted, tempted to slap this stupid son of a bitch across the face.

He opened his eyes to meet my gaze, his mouth curling into a sorrow filled frown. His eyes gathered water in the corners, his emotions probably on a rollercoaster ride. "I'm sorry," he whimpered out, a tear slipping out down his cheek. It broke my heart in two. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." He began to sob, his shoulders jerking with his quick inhales. I expected this to happen. Ambien messed with your emotions. It was an intense high and completely screwed you over. He wasn't thinking straight whatsoever.

"Jude, it's okay." I lied, my aggravated voice betraying my calming words. I just needed to stay calm. Me getting furious at him would only drive him away, he needed a comforter right now. I would have to try as hard as I could to not kick his ass to the curb.

"It's just so hard to do this on my own." His words slurred together as tears raced over the curve of his cheekbones, his eyes turning red.

"But you don't have to do this alone. I'm helping you, I've been helping you." I tried to reason with him. He shook his head.

"You can't rely on people, man, they always leave. The people I love always leave me." He wept, digging his face into the pillow. His body shook, his hands clenching into fists. "Even my own family doesn't want me."

I was prepared for him to confess every secret he ever kept. Zolpidem had a way of acting as a truth serum. You were no longer afraid of the consequences of letting everything out. I continued lacing my fingers through his hair, my pinky tracing over the rose tattoo on the side of his face.

"That's not true. I'm still here." I tried my best to provide warmth, but I was always just a very cold, rigid person. I knew I wouldn't be much help to him.

"I'm just a burden." He whispered, his body curling up. His knees pressed into his chest and his arms wrapped around them.

"It's because of these fucking drugs, dude. Get clean, you need to get clean. Look at you, Jude. Look what's happening to you. Is this who you want to be?" I asked, the anger slowly filtering into my tone despite my wishes for it to remain concealed. I was just incredibly worried, so incredibly scared for him. When I discovered him I was almost 100% I would find him dead in my room. I didn't think I could handle that. It would drive me over the edge to insanity.

"It's all I know." He sobbed, his voice laced with his sadness.

"Jude, you need to stop belittling yourself. You're so charming and sweet and funny, you have no idea." I allowed myself to tell him this. I felt safe with him in this state, figuring he wouldn't even remember half this conversation when he was finally sober again.

He simply shook his head, his face resting against my kneecaps. "I'm sorry." Was all he said. I groaned, throwing my head back.

"Jude, can I take your wallet so I can go get us something to eat?" I decided that that would at least get me out of the house so I could think of what to do with him.

"I don't have any money." He whispered.

"What? You offered to help me out with groceries." I reminded him.

"I lied." He said and I felt every last piece of hope I had for him slowly begin to vanish. I wanted to care for him, I wanted to show him kindness, but it was getting so difficult.

"Just go to sleep." I sighed, my fingers softly racing the outline of his ear. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

"I don't want to wake up."

I didn't respond. The gravity of the situation hit me. Maybe he wanted to overdose, maybe he wanted this to be how he left. In the apartment of the only person who showed him any source of warmth and friendship. I tugged my hair behind my ear. "Just get some rest." I whispered, slowly lifting myself up from the bed.

He grabbed my wrist, looking up at me with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. "Will you stay with me?" He asked in a broken voice. "I don't want to be alone anymore."

"I'll stay." My voice was hardly above a whisper, but he heard me loud and clear. "I'll stay," I repeated, slipping underneath the blankets. Would I stay? I didn't know what the future held for him, I just knew he was in trouble now, and turning him away when he needed someone the most wasn't going to help anyone.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, wrapping a large arm around my waist and pulling me against him. I felt strange. I felt wrong. I knew he wouldn't be this intimate if he were sober right now. I felt like I somehow was taking advantage of him, but I didn't let those thoughts sink in.

I turned so my back was facing him, I couldn't stand to look at his face, so sad and so broken. His tattooed arm was still around my waist, his legs straightening out so I could fit more comfortably with him next to me. This was such a strange, unusual occurrence, I didn't know how to respond.

I felt so much attachment to him, like somehow he managed to breathe me into him and I was trapped in his lungs alongside his cigarette smoke. I knew when he woke up he wouldn't hold me like this anymore. I knew when he woke up he would probably leave because of his embarrassment.

I didn't want to think about when he woke up. I just wanted to lay here and pretend what we had was something related to love.

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This is a pretty short chapter because I wanted to combine it with the last one, but I decided not to :) please vote and comment!