Chapter One:

I had been pacing the waiting room for hours now, back and forth, fidgeting nervously with my hands; watching other people come and go, and others being wheeled in for more serious circumstances, like Tommy had been wheeled in. I couldn't think of anything else to do except for pace around. No one had spoken a word to me yet about Tommy's condition, was he stable at all yet? Was he awake? Was he…I couldn't—wouldn't allow myself to even think of that last one as a possibility. I had to stay positive, but that was proving to be harder than I thought it to be.

My eyes were swollen red from the tears, which still streamed out from the corner of my eyes. I kept trying to tell myself that it was alright, that everything was alright, but I couldn't shake the thought from head about how this was all my fault; it was all my fault.

"God Sadie, what's taking so long?" I breathe out hoarsely, looking over at my sister for some response; she doesn't respond quickly enough, I answer my own question out loud.

"He's fine. The doctor will come out soon, and say that everything is fine…he's fine," I say, trying desperately to convince myself of my own words even as my voice breaks.

"Jude, you need to calm down…have a seat…" my sister suggests, as she stands and joins me at my side and touches my arm, flickers of worry flashing through her eyes, "I'm fine…" I trail off, "I'm fine," I repeat again, this time at an attempt to assure myself of the statement.

"Jude," my sister begins slowly; I cut in before she has the chance to tell me that I need to calm down.

"What if they can't fix him? This is my fucking fault. God, this is all my fault. So please Sadie, don't tell me to calm down." I spit out, my voice shortly cracking after as the sobs leave my throat.

"Jude," Sadie says firmly, grasping my arm and pulling me closer to her. "This is not your fault," she continues, "Tommy has a problem, okay? One that he created himself, not you" I'm shaking my head as she speaks, "If I was around more…if I fought harder to make us work…fought harder to help him, he wouldn't be…we had a fight earlier today Sade, I don't want that to be the last memory I have of him." I mumble softly as I finally take a seat. I shut my eyes and allow my head to fall back; this morning's event playing back in my mind.

I woke up earlier than I had intended to that morning, but once I was awake I couldn't fight myself to go back to sleep, so I pushed the comforter from my body and got out of bed. I lifted my arms up towards the ceiling, stretching out my muscles as my eyes darted over towards the empty, untouched side of the bed that Tommy used to sleep. I shut my eyes and sighed, I couldn't even remember the last time that had been. I open my eyes and make my way into the bathroom; shutting and locking the door behind me I turn immediately towards the shower and turn the water on. I undress as the temperature adjusts to what I had turned the knob too, and then step inside almost immediately after my clothes are shed.

After showering for a good half hour I reach out and shut the water off, pull the shower curtain back after, and reach out through the thick steam for my towel. I wrap the towel around my body and step out of the shower. I quickly wonder if Tommy is awake, if he's even home. I unlock the bathroom door and step out into the hallway and flash a quick glance to the living room. I spot Tommy sitting on the living room floor in front of the coffee table. Releasing a sigh I simply walk across the hall to the bedroom to dress quickly for work so I can get out of there. I don't know what to do with this anymore. I threatened to leave him I don't know how many times and he seemed unphased by that. Certainly he would care if I really did leave, right?

I shut the bedroom door behind me when I'm inside and walk towards my dresser. Mechanically I pull it open and pull out my undergarments and a white wife beater, push the dresser drawer closed, and drop my towel at my feet. I slip into my panties and then slide my bra over my chest and clamp it shut with ease as I turn and step towards my closet; pulling the wife beater over my head as I go. I pull a pair of loose blue jeans down from where the sit hanging in the air and slip one leg into them at a time.

After I'm finished dressing I make my out of the bedroom and dread the usual awkward interaction that takes place every morning. I walk down the hall, see him still sitting, hovering over the coffee table, and as I pass I don't say a word, I slip into the kitchen; I assume undetected. I prepare myself a quick breakfast—only consisting of a very small portion of eggs, a piece of toast and glass of orange juice. I pull out two plates from the cabinet above the stove and set them down onto the counter. When the eggs are finished cooking in the skillet I lift it above one plate and scrape a small amount onto one with a spoon, and move to the other and do the same. He usually doesn't eat in the morning…in fact he hardly eats at all. I can't remember the last time I've seen him do that either, but I still try.

My toast pops up, two of them to be exact, and I do with them the same as I did with the eggs; divide them onto a plate for me and one for Tommy. I leave his plate sitting on the kitchen table and hold mine in my hands as I finally get the nerve to greet him in the living room.

"Morning," I say lowly, looking over at him, waiting for him to say something back. He almost never does, and I know this, but I don't stop trying.

I stand there quietly, spooning eggs into my mouth, waiting. Finally, I speak again, "I left you some breakfast on the table," he shocks me then, because he looks up, something he hadn't done in a while. I can't remember the last time I had looked into his eyes. He looked horrible, it killed me to see him like this, and I had to clutch the plate tighter in my hand so it didn't slip and fall.

"I'm not hungry," he says, his voice dry and raspy.

"Tom, I haven't seen you eat in weeks…maybe even months. You should eat something babe," I say as I walk over to him and sit my plate down onto the coffee table, just inches away from him and his new love.

"I've had my breakfast, thanks." He spits out dryly. "Tommy, this isn't fucking breakfast!" I shout, louder than I had intended while motioning towards the items on the table.

"Jude, just leave," he says, lowering his head back down to concentrate.

I sink my bottom lip into my teeth as I stand and watch him put the band around his arm and reach out for the syringe on the table. My eyes widen in disbelief, I had never watched him do this, I had on occasion, only seen him snort a line or two of coke off the table, but never shoot up.

Instinctively I reached out and took the syringe before his fingers could get to it first. I lifted it off the table and stared down at it in my hands. Tommy looked back up at me again then, his eyes dark around the edges and squinted.

"Jude, give me the fucking syringe," he demands, slowly raising himself to his feet. I shake my head and look up at him, "I can't stand around and watch you do this yourself, Quincy," my voice trembles as I speak, "Then maybe you should fucking leave then, like I said, make yourself fucking useful for once" he says angrily, slowly stepping towards me.

I take a step back, my eyes flashing back down to the syringe. "Maybe I should do it too…would that make you feel good, Quincy? We could finally maybe spend some god damn time together;" I say steadily, watching him cautiously, "Jude…put the fucking syringe down." His tone is serious, it's angry, it's almost threatening.

"So what, you can do it but I can't, Tommy? You're the only one allowed to do this to yourself?" I yell circling around our couch as Tommy follows carefully behind.

"This isn't a game, Jude!" He yells back, closer to me than I had realized, his hand slightly rising in the air.

Was he going to hit me? Had he actually just raised his hand to hit me? I flinched slightly as his hand lowered back to his side shamefully. My face softened and then hardened again all in a matter of seconds.

"Do you even realize what this shit is doing to you!" I shouted furiously as I threw the syringe at him.

With that, I stomped towards the front door, snatched my bag up off the floor, and left the apartment.

I hadn't realized that I had fallen asleep. What time was it now? Was he okay? I looked around the waiting for Sadie as my eyes adjusted to being awake, she wasn't in front of me, but after a few seconds I spotted her walking towards me with two cups of coffee in her hands.

"I thought you could use some," She offers politely as she extends a cup to me.

"Thanks," I reply quietly as I sit up straight in the uncomfortable waiting chair, "I need to stay up; I don't want to miss anything." I mumbled.

Just then the doctor who is handling Tommy's "visit" approaches us in the waiting room; directing his attention at me, he opens his mouth to speak, "You're here for Tommy Quincy, right?" I nod my head and I push up out of the chair.

"Yeah, I am…is he…is he okay?" I ask nervously, feeling Sadie join me closely at my side.

"I'm Dr. Stevens, he's doing better than when we first brought him in…he's stable right now…he's still out, but he's breathing well enough on his own now…the condition can possibly change, but we're keeping him overnight obviously to monitor his state and monitor any change over the course of his visit here." I nod at every word that leaves the doctor's mouth. Tommy is alright for now, stable is good, I can live with stable.

"Can I see him?" I ask hoarsely. I see the doctor hesitate briefly. Please don't let him tell me no, I couldn't handle leaving here, or staying here another minute, without seeing for myself that he really was alright.

"Yeah, you can go in and see him for a moment. I'll take you back." I smile as best I can given this whole situation and look over at Sadie. "You go ahead; I'll sit here and wait for you." She says, and I nod at her before following the doctor.

He leads me through two code protected doors, to an elevator, in which we step onto and head up to the fourth floor. The doors ding open and I step out behind him. "He's for doors down in 404 B. You can stay for a few minutes, I'll come back and get you in a bit," he tells me, "Okay, thank you doctor," I respond appreciatively and begin to walk down the hall to Tommy's room.

When I reach 404 B, the door is open and I slowly turn to enter the room. I see Tommy hooked up to the EKG machine, hear the beep beep beep sounding from the machine as it monitors his heart. I move closer towards the bed, this all still feeling like some horrible nightmare I have yet to wake from. I take his hand into mine carefully and look down at his face. I honestly hardly recognize him, and it breaks my heart to see, to know that it has sadly come to this.

"You need get some help, Quincy," I whisper, caressing his hand gently with my thumb, "I'm going to try and be strong to help you get that, but you have to work with me. I love you," I finish, slowly releasing his hand from mine and leaning forward I place a soft kiss on his cheek. When I step away from the bed and take a final glance, I look over towards the door and spot Dr. Stevens in the doorway waiting for me.

"I love you, Quincy, don't you dare forget that," I whisper and then turn and leave the room with the doctor.