A/N- Well fuck... Here ya go
Dylan sat outside on his porch, holding the small plastic bag in between his fingers while his hands shook violently. His last dose was yesterday and his body was going through major withdrawal. The first 48 hours sucks ass. He had been staring at the white powder for half an hour trying to figure out what to do with it. It was an old stash he hid in case of emergency and he wanted to get in out of the house before George found it. He should just through it away. Toss it and be done. But today his brain and his hands weren't working together.
Tears pricked his eyes as he buried his face in his knees. He was such a fuck up. Why the hell was it so damn hard for him to stop? He knows plenty of people who are clean. So why can't he just copy them? It seems easy enough. Wake up. Live life. Don't do drugs. As simple as it sounds. If he could just do that and distracted himself he'd be clean in no time.
He heard the front door open, making the tears that he forgot where there roll down his cheeks. George quickly ran over as soon as he saw the bag in Dylan's hand and pulled him onto his lap. He softly shushed him and whipped away his tears, "You okay bud?" He asked, getting a nod from small boy. "Can I have the bag?"
Dylan shakily handed it to him, "I-I didn't do it..." He whispered, "Promise..." George didn't say anything in return, just rubbed his back and gave him small kisses.
Dylan didn't have a very good record for telling the truth, and they both knew that pretty well. So half the time George had to guess if he was lying or not. But after looking at the bag again and finding it mostly full, he figured that if he did any it would probably be the whole thing. "Okay," He finally said after a second or two of uncomfortable silence.
"I wanna get better,"
George's eyes widened. He'd never her Dylan say anything like that before. It was always him saying he needed to stop. Not the other way around. It took a while for him to realize that the bag was being taken from his hand and Dylan was getting up. "What are you doing?" He asked as soon as he came back to his senses, getting up and following him to the garbage. Dylan put the bag in and closed the lid shut.
"Getting better..."
A/N - Does anyone even like Cashed Out? I know I'm digging my own grave but it's probably the worst song on the album.
