It Travels with Them

Chapter Fifteen - Damage

[Hello lovely readers! First of all, yes, yes it's me. I'm not dead. Second of all:

WARNING ⚠️
This chapter contains material that some may find disturbing or triggering such as self harm, alcoholism, and self destructive thoughts!!!

Please stay safe. Skip whatever you feel needs skipping. Lots o love <3
Author~kun]

After our late dinner we all decided to try and get some rest.
I slept alright but judging from the dark circles under Alex's eyes they didn't. Michael seemed really tired as well.
Neither of them are morning people, I'm not either but I'm a bit better than them. This particular morning they were worse. The only word Alex seemed to be able to say was "coffee" and Michael didn't even talk, he just grunted.
Once we finally got downstairs we found Dad and Trauler making breakfast, with a steaming pot of coffee just brewed. Alex got a large mug and filled it to the brim and Michael started shoveling food into his mouth. I grabbed a plate and filled it with eggs, bacon, sausage and a bagel. Then getting some coffee for myself I sat with them.
"G'mornin'," Trauler says, his tone chipper.
Michael grunts, his mouth full of food as Alex and I mutter tired "good morning"s back.
"Well aren't you just a bunch of Chatty Cathy's this fine morning," dad chuckles, sarcasm dripping from his words.
The only response he got was the sounds of chewing and baleful stares.
[*]

A couple hours later we're loitering outside Trauler's house, in his large plot of land. We weren't really doing much, though I noticed as we walked that Alex was putting more weight on their bad foot.
Swiftly, Alex picks up a stick and hurls it at Mike yelling, "Think fast!"
He yelps and jumps out of the way, the stick sailing harmlessly past his head.
"Hey! What was that for!?"
"Nothin'," they shrug. "Just bored."
"So you throw a stick at me? Because you're bored!?"
Alex pretends to think, sticking out their bottom lip, "...Yup!" 
Michael rolls his eyes and runs a hand down his face.
Alex laughs and turns away. Walking forward they stumble putting a hand to their face.
"Oh god," an ungly cough explodes from their mouth and they fall to their knees.
I run to their side, worry clutching my insides, "Are you alright!? What's wrong?"
Michael settles next to us and puts a hand on Alex's shoulder, "Just breathe, you'll be alright.."
I look up at him alarmed, a question in my eyes. Mike shakes his head, he'll tell me later.
We stayed with Alex until they were able to stand, then we helped them back to the house. Once inside they sat on the couch and curled into a ball. They didn't move much and barely spoke, their face shone with sweat as they alternated from breathing heavily and coughing fits.
Moving to the kitchen we found dad and Trauler, obviously worried they began asking questions.
Michael answered, "They've gone cold turkey... and now they're going through nicotine withdrawals."
He spoke solemnly, both he and I have known about Alex's... habit for a while. I didn't know it was this bad.
Dad never knew. He feels guilty now, I can see it on his face. He feels like it's his fault, he knew Alex had a troubled past to say the least. I feel bad too. I knew about this and I didn't do anything, I just hope there isn't too much permanent damage.
I look at Michael, he's sitting on the couch near Alex now. We're all in the living room and Alex is asleep. His face is hard to read, just a mask of neutrality and resignment. I hope he's doing better than I am.

Michael's P.O.V.

 
God damnit.
I feel like my insides are being ripped out by a werewolf... or a lycanthrope. Whatever the hell they call themselves now. I know it's stupid, this is reality. If they want out of this habit they put themself in this is what they gotta deal with.
It doesn't suck any less though.
I stand, moving towards the front door.
"I'll be back," I mutter.
I don't wait for an answer.
I make my way out of the house and down to our truck, opening the back door I pull open the floor compartment. Inside is an assortment of weapons, non perishable food, water and wedged between the side of the cubby and a waterproof tarp is a bottle of Jack Daniels. I grab the bottle and, pulling off the cap, down a huge gulp. Wiping my mouth I take a couple more swiggs. I put away the bottle and moved to the rock Alex and I sat on the other day. I sit heavily, putting my head in my hands wishing I could take a few more drinks. I didn't want to think, didn't want to feel right now. I want to get wasted so I don't need to think about things, but that wasn't possible. I can't, shouldn't. I promised myself I wouldn't do that again.
I promised myself I wouldn't. I can't keep getting drunk for the wrong reasons. I ain't even having a good time.
I chuckle darkly.
In a flash I remember Alex throwing that cigarette pack, the resolve on their face. They recognised the fact that they have a problem and they want to fix it. No professional help, just cold turkey, hah idiot.
A stray thought whispers in the back of my brain, "Then what does that make you?"
A huge weight seemed to settle on my shoulders. I sag, body hunching and tensing.
Who am I trying to fool? At least Alex is trying to get better. What the hell am I doing? Getting drunk and wishing the world would go away, that's what I'm doing. If Alex is an idiot I must be some new and worse brand of stupid.
I wish I was— no, stop. Don't you dare finish that fucking sentence. You are not going down that path... not again.
I look down at my trembling hands and curl them into fists. Squeezing my eyes shut I compose myself, then open my hands. I stare at the crescent divots in my palms where my nails bit into my skin.
Breathe.
In...
Out...
I tell my legs to stand but I don't move. I take another breath, slow and even then stand.
Now go inside and get a glass of water.
Slowly my body responds, I watch myself do it but I feel... disconnected.
My right hand reaches out and grabs the glass, full of ice water. I don't remember filling it.
I feel the chill glass touch my skin and instantly I'm snapped back to reality. I blink and roll my shoulders.
That was strange. I sip my water absentmindedly and go back into the living room. Tyler meets my eyes and I force a smile, raising my glass.
"Hydrate or diedrate."
He cracks a smile and pretends to raise his own glass.
"Hydration nation."
I laugh softly at the little joke. Alex had come up with the second one, whenever we said "hydrate or diedrate" they would always yell, "H2O!! Hydration Nation!!" like they were cheering on a team.
I look down at Alex, sleeping on the couch. They twitch in their sleep, muttering something incomprehensible.Their face scrunches as they frown then relaxes.
I can feel Tyler's eyes on me, he wants to talk but I'm not in the mood. I sit on the love seat opposite the couch and stare at the wall, carefully avoiding Tylers' gaze. Eventually he gives up and sits back quietly.
The two responsible adults are off somewhere, probably talking about something we "wouldn't understand." I lean back into the cushions, pushing my thoughts to one side and closing my eyes.
Then Tyler speaks up.
"You were drinking again weren't you?" he speaks quietly so as to not wake Alex.
I grunt in response, not wanting to answer him.
"Michael. It's barely noon are you kidding me? And you told me you stopped!"
He's upset. And right. I did tell him I had stopped, that was a big fat lie.
"It's five o'clock somewhere," I mutter despondently.
"Michael," he hissed.
"You don't want to end up like uncle Tony do you?"
I look up at him now, I can see a hint of despair in his eyes. Guilt stabbed through my gut but I stayed quiet.
Tony was a long time alcoholic and family friend, he died from alcohol poisoning.
I look away, staring at Ty's feet.
My gut churned, Tony had been a good guy but don't want to end up like him.
Tyler speaks again, "Listen Mike, I don't pretend to know what you're going through but you're my brother for god's sake! And I can't just sit back and watch you do this to yourself!" 
He sighs, "I did nothing to help Alex—" he motions to Alex's sleeping figure, "—look where they are now... I- I know what you do to yourself, besides the alcohol," he looks away from me for a moment and touches his wrist.
My heart starts to pound inside my chest. He knows? Shit, he knows. I thought I had been discrete, my bracelets and watch cover them. I'm so stupid. Of course he knows, now he can see how weak I really am. How pathetic, how—
"I want to help you," Ty's voice broke through my thoughts, interrupting the voices in my head.
"You aren't alone Michael you've got me, and dad and Alex. Please, please promise me you'll stop. If you.. If you left I couldn't—" his voice broke as his eyes filled with tears.
Suddenly my vision went blurry and to my surprise I realized I was crying as well. I set my glass down as I find myself sitting next to him, I put an arm across his shoulders.
"Ty I— I'm sorry.."
He hugs me and, awkwardly, I reciprocate.
"Promise me Michael," his voice is muffled.
I swallow, "I swear to you, I'm not gonna leave you guys okay?"
He nods and lets go of me.
Then, from beside us Alex bursts out laughing.
We turn to look at them and they say, "The meerkats are saved from the Hunger Games, youuuuu cheaters."
They giggle again and we realize that they're still asleep.
Tyler laughs, "I forgot they talk in their sleep."
I laugh too, "Goofball."