Fight or Flight [On Hold]

[ 1 ] Another Glass of Whisky But It Still Don't Kill The Pain

A/N: I will eventually carry on with this story, but at the moment it's on hold because I'm completely reworking it. Rewriting chapters, editing storylines, changing motives, everything. It could be months or it could be years, but I will eventually finish it, and it will eventually be posted. These first few chapters will give you a sense of what it's going to end up as, but they, too, are going to be completely rewritten. I want to finish the whole story before I post anything, because otherwise, I post rubbish chapters (like these ones) and have to edit them later on to add in details which fit into the storyline. I will be posting the new version in this story (I am not creating a new one) and it will still be called Fight or Flight (hopefully). So until then, adieu.

"Matthew, I'm home!" a female voice called, as the door was shoved open. Lexy Owens sighed as she saw the reason why it had been so difficult: the pile of post leaning against it. It was typical of her brother: he was a total slob.

"Be ready to leave in ten minutes!" Lexy didn't believe in spending hours primping and preening - if people didn't like the way she looked they could shove it up their waste disposal chute.

She kicked off her shoes and headed for her room, hopping half the way as she struggled to pull her tights off. She stripped of her work clothes and pulled on a Beatles t-shirt. She was just pulling up the zipper on her shorts when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, hooking one feathery earring in her ear. She smiled as Matthew's face poked round the door.

"Nearly ready to go?" she asked, looping on her other earring.

Matthew brushed her question aside with a flap of his hand.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" he asked happily.

Too happily. There was a sudden weight on Lexy's chest.

"You're drunk."

He tried not to slur his words. "No I'm not!" He failed. "Give me a hug, sis," he stepped closer to Lexy, his arms outstretched.

"Don't touch me." There was a sudden ferocity to his sister's voice as she stepped back. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Where is it?"

He didn't reply.

"Where is it?" She said it quietly this time, but with a voice so hard you could have cut it with a kitchen knife.

"I don't know what you mean," he replied, feigning innocence. But Lexy knew him better than that; and she knew when he was lying.

She gave up on subtly. "Matt, where's the booze?"

He mumbled something too quiet for her to hear.

"What?"

"Under the sink," he mumbled again.

She pushed past her brother to the kitchen; or at least what they called a kitchen - it was just a fridge, cooker and sink in the corner of the living room. There wasn't even a table to eat on.

Lexy rifled through the cupboards under the sink before she found what she was looking for: ten boxes of beer, stacked neatly on top of one another, and two half-empty bottles of whisky.

She turned back round to Matt, holding up a bottle.

"Where did you get this?" She knew he'd been sat at home for days, searching through newspaper after newspaper for a viable job - and even if he had gone out, they had no money to spend on alcohol.

"Jay." He quickly averted his gaze to avoid seeing the fury in his sister's eyes, so didn't see her shaking her head in disgust. Jay was probably the only person stupid enough to give alcohol to a recovering alcoholic.

She took a deep breath and he braved looking up at her face. He soon wished he hadn't: the disappointment in her eyes made him want to curl up into a little ball.

"You promised me you'd stay sober." But the disappointment in her voice was ten times worse. "You promised."

He bit his lip self-consciously.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. There was so much he wanted to say, but he knew he didn't need to. The look on his sister's face told him that she knew exactly what he wanted to say, and that she forgave him. She knew that if she'd been old enough to drink when.. Well, when it happened she would probably be just as addicted as he was. But no, she'd had to face it sober, and she hoped against hope that she was stronger for it.

"Another glass of whisky but it still don't kill the pain," she muttered, summing up her brother's feelings in one line from a song.

She placed his arm around her neck and helped him stagger into his bedroom, before laying him down on the bed.

"Sleep," she whispered, when he tried to get up, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Sleep it off and we'll talk in the morning."

Somehow he must have remembered about her party, because as she shut the door she heard him mumble, "Don't drink too much, there's a good girl."

She gritted her teeth. Because of his drinking she now had to figure out another way to get to this stupid party, and he had the cheek to tell her not to drink? Not bloody likely, she thought.

She pulled out her phone and speed-dialled Abby.

"Hey, can you pick me up?" she asked nervously, crossing her fingers that her friend wasn't running early for the first time in her life.

"Sure babe, but what happened? I thought Matt was taking you," came Abby's chipper voice.

"Just stuff," Lexy fudged.

"Oh, shame," Abby said. "I was looking forward to seeing him."

"Yeah yeah," Lexy muttered, knowing how big a crush Abby had on her brother - not that she'd ever admit it, of course. "See you in five?"

"See you soon doll!" Abby chirped before ringing off.

Lexy threw on some makeup in the hall mirror, then grabbed a bag and jacket when there was a knock at the door. She opened it to find Abby in a very short pink dress and heels.

"Ready to go?" Abby gestured at the parked car.

"Sure," Lexy replied. "I just need to get something."

While Abby returned to her car, Lexy returned to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out as much beer as she could carry. She stacked it precariously and began shuffling towards the car, pulling the door closed with her foot. She really didn't want Matt waking up with a pounding headache and deciding that the only cure was beer.

When Abby saw her - or more accurately, saw the tower of beer she was carrying - her eyes widened.

"Jesus Christ," she swore, leaning over to open the passenger door. "Planning on drinking yourself into a coma?"

"Something like that," her best friend muttered as the car reversed out of the drive.

A/N: This is my first time writing in the third person for a very long time so I'm really sorry if it's pants, it just seemed to work better than it did in the first.

Umm I know it's not terribly interesting at the moment, but the next few chapters are where the story really gets going (this is basically a little introduction to show you what Lexy has to go through at home).

Note about the cover: It's not my photo, and I don't own the copyright or anything like that. It was just pretty and I wanted to use it.

If you like the story please vote/comment/fan - it'll give me more motivation to write if I know people are reading.

It may still take a while, though - I'm kind of OCDic when I write. I write it, edit it, spellcheck it, leave it for a day, rewrite it, leave it for another day, rewrite it, edit it, name it, find the appropriate song for it, write the author's note, check the author's note, and THEN it finally goes up.

gempearl xoxox

P.S. If you read all that, you can have a cookie.