Heart's Done Time (Aerosmith Fanfiction)

Chapter nine

Chapter nine

Steven's POV

We actually got to practice on time that night, much to the surprise of everyone there, and this week I was able to sing worth crap because I was (regrettably) sober. I had to remind myself often that all this was for Sesame, though, and that so far the best had come from it, because while I saw where she was coming from, I just really hated being sober.

The guys obviously appreciated her efforts though, because we would actually be able to get some work done now that I was no longer a giggling mess.

Grateful or not, though, boys will be boys, and so the teasing began as soon as I walked through the door. Joe was the one to start it.

"Wow, you look like shit," he said, pausing in setting up his gear. "Hungover again?"

I resisted the urge to tell him that I'd take that over long-term sobriety any day. "Actually," announced Sesame, taking a seat on the couch and smiling proudly. "He's been sober for three days."

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at her with disbelief. "Yeah right," said Tom.

"Up yours," I threw back, feeling a bit agitated.

Everyone then looked at me with varying looks of concern and confusion. "Simmer down, children," joked Ray, earning an appreciative smile from Sesame, and I felt mildly jealous.

"So what's the plan for tonight, then?" inquired Joe, obviously in a good mood despite the brief feeling of tension in the air. "Shall we celebrate Steven's sobriety with a couple of beers?" Sesame slapped him on the arm.

"Oh, so Pinky put you up to this, eh?" asked Joey, eyes darting between the two of us. "Does this mean you two are finally dating?" Everyone quietly awaited an answer, but I didn't know what to say.

"Not til he takes me out Wednesday," declared Sesame, smiling to herself. "He's made quite the effort though."

"That's my boy," Joe remarked, patting me hard on the back and almost sending me toppling. I couldn't remember when my legs had grown so incredibly weak, but suddenly it was becoming harder to stand. That's when I remembered that I also hadn't eaten in three days.

"Can we please get to playing, now?" asked Ray, sounding more eager than impatient. "Before we lose Steven again?"

I hadn't realized that my discomfort was so obvious, and I suddenly felt embarrassed. "I'm okay. But we should still try and get some work done."

"That's what I like to hear," said Joe joyfully, and before I knew it, an opening riff was playing and I would soon be expected to sing.

This was gonna be a tough few hours.

---

Later that night, when Sesame and I were loaded into her van and she asked me, "where to?" I found myself asking her to take me home before I even knew what I was saying, feeling nauseous despite having nothing in my stomach and growing anxious the longer I was away from home.

My hands were shaking like mad, as they had been a lot over the past few days, and it was growing increasingly difficult to act natural. I felt awful, and I just wanted to go home.

Sesame didn't question me, though--probably assuming I was afraid of being grounded--and took me home, driving faster than my delicate stomach could comfortably handle and making tears spring to my eyes without any warning. It was hard to stay quiet.

We arrived soon enough though, and without incident of any kind. "You'll be okay?" she asked, and it occurred to me that of course Sesame knew when something was wrong. Sometimes she knew even before I did.

"I'll be fine," I assured, swallowing down bile and attempting to climb out of the van on uncoordinated feet, pulling my guitar case and backpack with me. My coat was still at the Bellos'.

"Thanks for the ride," I told her when she got out and came around to hug me.

"It's always my pleasure," she replied, smiling warmly even as cold snowflakes gathered in her pink bun. "Please don't do anything stupid before I see you again, and call me if you need anything."

I let out a humorless laugh. "I'll be okay, Pink. I'm not gonna relapse in my sleep. Besides, you'll see me in the morning." She pouted, but we both knew that my words held truth, and so she eventually nodded.

"You can't blame a girl for worrying," she said, a small snowflake landing on the tip of her button nose and melting against her warmth. "You'd drink or starve yourself to death if given half the chance. It's like watching a toddler."

"A toddler who drinks?" I laughed, ignoring her eye roll.

"You know what I mean," she told me, and yeah I really did, and I felt oddly touched. "I love you, Steven."

"I love you too, Pink," I said, pulling her into a sweet kiss; warm, soft lips pressed against cold, chapped ones as I shivered only partly because of the snow. I gasped when we pulled apart. "Goodnight, lover."

She chortled. "Goodnight, you dork."

Sesame went around to the other side of the van, then, and climbed in, starting up the engine and blowing me a kiss before she drove off in the direction of her home. I watched her go with an odd sense of regret.

Once her headlights had disappeared around a corner, I picked up my stuff from the ground, wiping the snow that had collected atop it with numb, shaky hands and heading for the door on weakened legs, glad the nausea had subsided some.

It took a bit of time to get the front door open with my hands full and uncoordinated, but eventually I managed and was greeted by warmth and sounds of my mother washing the dishes. I prayed she wouldn't see me as I walked past the living room and conjoined kitchen, but I had no such luck.

I had taken no more than two steps down the hallway before she saw me and was hurrying to address me with a guilt trip or something. "I thought you were staying at a friend's tonight," she stated matter-of-factly, arms crossed.

Wincing a bit, I swallowed, trying to ignore the scent of leftover dinner as I searched for something to say. "I started feeling sick, so I came home instead," I told her truthfully, for once not stretching the facts to get me the gentlest lecture. I didn't need to, for once.

"Sick?" she asked. "Sick how? Do you have a fever?" I couldn't help but notice that she sounded worried, but I tried to convince myself she was only trying to avoid getting sick herself (not that that'd be a problem, what with the origins of my ailment. Of course, I could hardly tell her that.)

"No, Mom. Just got a headache, and I feel nauseous." I swallowed again. "And kind of dizzy."

Her brow creased. "Well why don't you head to bed and try and sleep it off? I'll call the school in the morning if you don't feel up to going," she offered, and she was actually being nice for once, so I didn't bother telling her that I never felt up to going to school.

"Okay. Goodnight," I mumbled, trudging down the hall to my room and shutting the door with my free hand.

I didn't think I'd be sleeping much at all, though.

It was going to be a long night.