Drugs.

You needed drugs.

Everything in your life was falling apart so fast it felt impossible to keep up with it anymore, and the withdrawal clawing through your body was the final thing pushing you over the edge. Every nerve felt raw. Your skin hurt. Your stomach twisted painfully every few seconds, sweat sticking to the back of your neck even though you were freezing cold. Your hands wouldn't stop shaking.

So you went to Fez.

Your friend Fez. Drug dealer Fezco.

Only he didn't really keep anything in the house anymore. Not after the raid. The cops had torn through the place months ago, and since then he'd gotten paranoid about what he kept around. Smarter, too.

But you knew he still had something.

Something he probably didn't even think about anymore.

His grandma's pills.

You'd seen the orange bottles once. You remembered the labels. Remembered the way your brain immediately locked onto them.

And now, with your body aching so badly you could barely think straight, that memory wouldn't leave you alone.

So you betrayed his trust.

You told him you needed the bathroom, trying to keep your voice steady so that he wouldn't notice how desperate you really were. Then you waited until he disappeared back into the living room before slipping quietly down the hallway.

His grandma's room smelled faintly like medicine and old blankets. The curtains were half closed, the room dim except for the weak yellow light from the hallway spilling across the carpet. She barely moved in the bed, chest rising slowly beneath the blankets while machines hummed softly beside her.

Your hands shook harder.

Orange pill bottles clattered softly together while you dug through them, checking labels with blurry vision, frustration building every second.

Then you heard footsteps.

"Yo, c'mon now. Are you serious?"

Your entire body froze.

Fez stood in the doorway staring at you, disbelief written all over his face before it slowly twisted into anger. Not loud anger. Somehow that would've been easier. This was quieter. More disappointed.

You immediately started arguing. Talking too fast, voice cracking while you tried to explain yourself, explaining how she wouldn't even notice if a few were gone, how you needed something to make the pain stop for a while.

But to him, it wasn't even about the pills anymore.

It was the principle of it.

Stealing from his dying grandmother was probably one of the quickest ways imaginable to get on his bad side, especially when you were someone he trusted enough to let into his home whenever . Someone he considered family.

You should've known better.

His jaw tightened while he listened to you spiral, and finally he just grabbed your shoulder and turned you toward the door.

Not rough at all. Not really.

The friendship wasn't ruined. Not yet. But you sure as hell weren't staying there tonight after this.

Only you couldn't let it go.

Maybe it was the withdrawal. Maybe it was shame turning into anger because admitting you were wrong hurt almost as badly as your body did. Either way, you fought back against him while he tried leading you out of the room.

He still wasn't hurting you. Barely even forcing you forward.

But right now every touch felt unbearable.

And suddenly you snapped.

You shoved him hard.

Harder than you'd ever shoved anyone before.

Fez stumbled backward into the wall with a loud thud, shoulders slamming against it hard enough to rattle the door next to him.

For half a second he just looked at you, caught off guard and off balance, surprise flashing across his face before the anger finally fully settled in.

"Hell nah."

The second he pushed off the wall and came after you again, the atmosphere changed completely.

He grabbed you much rougher this time, fingers locking painfully around your arm while he dragged you through the kitchen. Before, he'd only been trying to get you out.

Now he was angry.

His patience had completely run out, and you could feel it in the way his grip tightened every time you tried resisting him again.

All of this over drugs. Betrayed Fez for some pills.