「firefly」 | The Outsiders

Self-Medicating, Part One [Jally].

Present day, AU.

Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of drug use.

| Third Person POV. |

He'd been dragged into this whirlpool of addiction, and he wasn't sure how long it'd have him held captive - but at this point, he just couldn't bring himself to care. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket down, moving to grip the marble bathroom counter in front of him. A loud clatter echoed throughout the room, but he couldn't process what it was. His gaze met that of his reflection and he took notice to how his eyes were abnormally bright; wide, vivid, different than normal.

A wave of pleasure ran through him, eyes instantly closing as his grip on the counter tightened. His mouth opened slightly, body swaying side to side a moment. He stumbled out of the bathroom when the immensity had faded, collapsing onto the bed as a slow breath escaped his lungs. His limbs felt heavy, skin flushed with an unusual warmth - though it was more like an extreme blush than a fever. He laid there for an indeterminate amount of time, mind fuzzy and body still. He felt his heart - thump........ thump............. thump, the speed was abnormal. Though, he couldn't say he wasn't used to this. He felt sensational, as if he were on a cloud, switching between reality and some kind of a dreamy daze.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, or how long the high had lasted, but when it wore off he slowly lifted himself to a sitting position. His heartbeat had already began trying to regain its normal rhythm, breathing slow but healthily now. He reached for his phone, fingers scrolling through the missed calls. He hadn't even heard it ring, but then again, maybe it'd been on silent. He scrolled down to see the notification bar; one new voicemail and exactly ten missed calls. Instead of looking at who they were from, he clicked on the voicemail and pressed the speaker to his ear.

Hey, Dal, it's Johnny. I'm really worried, man. Where are you? Are you okay? Call me back, I've got some news.

He sighed, free hand running over his face. He was more tired than he'd like to admit, but he'd just have to get over it - it wasn't as if he hadn't just laid in bed for who knew how long. Dialing the all too familiar number, he listened to it ring. There was rustling on the other end before the voice he was looking for finally sounded.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me." His voice was groggy, or at least it sounded that way to him. Maybe Johnny heard it differently, though.

"Hey, Dally. Where you been?"

"Napping. What's up?" So, he'd told a little fib. What he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"I was offered a job, in New York. It's near your hometown, and..." Silence engulfed the other end of the speaker.

"And?" Dallas urged impatiently. The younger boy seemed to be hesitating, but after a second he finally found his voice again.

"W-well, I was wondering if you'd wanna come with me. Y'know, since you're familiar with it and I'm no-"

"Sure, Johnny. When do we leave?" He intercepted, mind not prepared to hear anything too complex. He needed simplicity, at least until he was feeling like himself again.

"I've got tickets for tomorrow morning at seven."

"Tickets?"