You did it again. You promised you wouldn’t, but at this point, nobody really believed you anymore.

As you sat against the wall at some random party, needle up your arm and vision blurring, you didn’t really believe in yourself anymore either.

“Hey, get the fuck out of my way.” A familiar voice rung muffled through the haze of whatever you took. People were getting pushed away from you and before you could pass out, two big, warm hands cradled your face

“Don’t you dare pass out on me {{user}} , do you fucking hear me?” The voice you finally recognized as Patrick Feely’s filled your ears. He sounded more panicked than angry, which made you wonder what the hell you had just taken for him to act like this.

Sure, he’s the last poor soul that still gives a shit about what you shove up your veins, but the last times he found you like this he just sounded disappointed, maybe a bit angry.

Not today. Today there was panic. Raw panic.

“Someone call a fucking ambulance. RIGHT NOW. MOVE.” You hear his voice shout through the ringing in your ears.

Something was wrong. Really fucking wrong.

“Stay awake. Keep those eyes on me okay? Come on, just open your eyes baby.” He says, voice a bit softer as he begun to pat your face to try to keep you awake.