Newt woke up alone and cold.
Of course Thomas wasn't next to him, of course.
Newt let him lay still for a moment longer, simply blinking away sleep and looking outside the window at the cloudy sky.
His bruised side was aching but he ignored it, pushing himself up to go fetch himself some boxers to wear.
He could hear some clatter going on in the kitchen, assuming that Thomas was making breakfast. Or lunch.
He opened the door and padded silently to the kitchen but stopped short when he heard a girl laugh.
He turned to look around the corner, feeling his heart drop even more.
Thomas was indeed cooking something, wearing comfortable sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt, his hair still a mess. But he was smiling softly, almost lovingly at the girl sitting in front of him at the kitchen counter.
Teresa.
They both were laughing about something, not at all noticing Newt just standing there.
Newt shook his head, walking back to the bedroom, simply pulling on first things that he got his hands on, old joggers and oversized but warm hoodie.
He didn't even look around, he felt like he couldn't breathe, like there just wasn't enough oxygen in the damn flat, like his lungs have just decided to give up and left to live in Rome without him.
Newt pulled on his vans and just slipped outside the apartment, Teresa's laugh still ringing in his ears.
His heart was beating way too fast and yet it felt like it was breaking apart, like with every heavy beat it was tearing itself apart from the bloody cords connecting it to the whole body system.
Newt walked at a fast pace, not even looking where he was going, he just needed to move.
Cold was biting at him but Newt didn't really feel it, it was hard to feel such a small thing when he was fighting not to drown.
Drown in what? In himself. In whatever was going on. In the darkness. He had no idea.
He was trembling from the cold when he finally found himself at his bookstore, he pushed inside, glad for the warmth that hugged him.
He locked the door behind him before walking to the back and up to the loft that was overlooking the bookstore but private enough to be used as a living space.
Newt lived there before Thomas and before he moved in with the boy he loved so much.
It was calming to just settle in the familiar place, just sinking in the plush sitting corner, closing his eyes and letting warmth of the home chase away the remains of cold.
His mind was still spinning.
It was hard to put a finger on one exact emotion that was dominating over him in that moment, all he knew was that it all could be summed up as being a mess.
He groaned at how patheticaly stupid he was being.
Finding a bottle of vodka was easy enough, it was still standing where he had left it who even knew when anymore, at the corner of the far side bookshelf, squished in between some blanket and stack of old notebooks.
He turned on some music, taking a long swig of the bottle.
He urged himself to get lost, for his mind to stop thinking about Thomas and Teresa being with him, about what exactly the last night meant, how it was screaming a fat goodbye so loud and clear that it was making Newt nauseous.
So he just drank his vodka and danced to the music, tuning out everything else.
The more he drank the shitter he felt, but he still kept going, slowly looking around his small loft, finding random stuff and looking through it.
Newt was laying flat on the carpeted ground, looking over the bookstore below him and outside its window when a round burn mark caught his eye.
He scrambled up, his heart starting to hammer like mad.
He tore at the loose piece of floorboard there, with the burn mark right in its centre, his breath catching.
Inside the small space lay a simple tattered metal box, once in a lifetime used to house some cookies or candies.
Newt sat back, holding the box in his trembling hands as if it may break apart at the smallest touch.
His head was spinning, his breath catching again and again, refusing to even out.
He slowly tore the lid off of the box, looking at the various contents laying inside.
Lighter. The most important thing there.
Couple sealed bags of various things inside them.
Fresh needle.
Razor, another razor.
Little spoon.
Broken headband.
Some cigarettes.
For a long moment all Newt could do was simply stare.
Then he slowly let his fingers ghost over the things there before taking out the lighter and flicking it on, staring in the flame for a moment before shutting it back down.
He pulled out small bags, looking through them, couple ones having different kinds of pills, one having weed.
He put them back down, looking at the rest of the contents in the small box.
Was he really doing this?
Now?
It would be so easy to just slip, to let himself get comfortable and forget.
He let his finger run over the package of the needle. Over and over again.
A wicked smile spread over his lips.
He was hurt and Tommy didn't care so why hold back?
It won't be like he will start doing it all over again, it will be just one time. To ease his mind and hammering heart.
Without even noticing what he was doing, he let his body take over, preparing the needed things from pure muscle memory.
He pulled the loose end of the broken head tie with his teeth, securing its knot over his arm right above the elbow.
He took a moment to just breath, to look down at the needle already full resting in between his fingers.
He shouldn't, he really shouldn't.
He could just keep on drinking his damned vodka and listen to music.
But the temptation was there.
And why, for once, he couldn't be the stupid one?
He cursed before pushing the shot inside his vein, a slow hiss escaping his lips by feeling the warm liquid run through his veins.
He dropped the empty shot needle, pulling the pressing head tie off of his hand, just staring at the small dot of blood blossoming on his skin where the needle pricked it.
He slowly sank back to the ground, not really believing that he actually did it, that after years he actually made himself slip.
He looked up at the ceiling window, only now noticing that it had started to snow.
He felt awful, even worse than before. Yet he still didn't move and even if he could, he couldn't get the drugs out of his veins anyway, so he let it crash over him, tear at his already broken body, clouding his mind and killing him softly with fire licking through his veins.
Somehow Newt has found it in himself to get up, to move. And now he was jumping around like crazy, singing along some random songs coming through the speaker as if there was no care in the world.
He felt like flying, but some small voice in the back of his head reminded him not to actually jump over the railing of his loft to try it, that it will be painful. But still, he felt like flying, his head light, so he danced and danced till the whole world was spinning around him and he was somewhere else, snowflakes whirling all around him, making him laugh and laugh till his throat was sore.
The ecstasy was fading. Newt was shivering, it had gotten cold.
It probably was because at some point in his crazy drugged sense he had opened all the possible windows in the loft, chasing the falling snowflakes.
He shut them all once again, collapsing on the ground.
His heart was beating way too forcefully against his chest, making his bruised ribs hurt.
It felt like the walls were caving in, so he laid flat to the ground, trying to remember how to breathe.
He was sinking, he could feel himself sinking, the damn carpet was trying to sink him. But he was too weak to move.
He let himself scream with no sound, his throat closing over nothing.
He was such an idiot to fall into an old trap and now here he was, dying all alone in his loft while Tommy was with Teresa in their apartment.
A broken sob tore through him, wrecking his body even more and blacking everything out.
Newt could barely breathe, it was too hard.
In some corner of his brain he knew that he was simply having a panic attack but well, mixing panic attack with drugs really wasn't a good idea, not at all.
By some miracle he has got his bookstore's phone, punching in numbers without even seeing.
Every passing ring was so loud in his ear that it made his head hurt even more.
But finally, finally it stopped, a soft voice answering his panicking call for help.
- Newt? - Girl's voice was confused and sleepy, as if Newt had woken them up.
- Lizzy. - Newt breathed out, already some weird calm passing over him at just hearing his sister's voice.
But just as fast as the calm came it ran away, leaving him unable to breathe, laying on the ground without being able to move.
- Newt. When will you stop calling me that? It's Sonya. And do you even know what time it is? It's bloody night already here. - She groaned on the phone but Newt could barely hear her.
- Lizzy... - A sob tore through him before he could stop it.
Tears start to gather in his eyes.
- Newt. What's wrong? Did something happen? - And just like that his baby sister was alerted all at once.
- I did something stupid and now I can't... - Newt started to cry, gasping for breaths.
Sonya was trying to urge him to tell her what's wrong, what was happening.
- I... Liz... Remember when they urged me to get rid of all the stuff? In the loft. I did, I did. I swear, I did. You saw that. But there was a box, I hid it under the burn mark. And it was full. I didn't mean to. I didn't. I just... Lizzy, it just... I am so so sorry. I am so sorry, Lizzy, I am sorry. - Newt tried to suck in the needed air but ended up just gasping and choking, he couldn't hear the girl on the other side of the phone.
- It wasn't big, I just... I didn't even notice till it was already in... I can't breathe, Liz, I can't. I am so so sorry. It's tearing me apart, it is, it is, Liz. I think that I'm dying, this time for sure. - Newt let sobs wreck him fully, his head too dizzy.
Sonya was trying to talk to him but Newt couldn't hear, he couldn't breathe and he was dying.
But just as fast as it came, it passed.
He lay on the ground, watching snowflakes snowing outside in the dark sky, Sonya all worried on the phone, calling for Newt in a shot of panic from the sudden silence.
- That's it, Newt, I'm calling Thomas. - She said, panic still clinging to her tone.
- Don't. He's too busy fucking his girlfriend. - Newt sucked in a deep breath, surprised at how easy it was.
- He... What? -
- I'm okay, Sonya. Sorry for waking you up. It's probably really late for you already since it's dark here already. I'm sorry. I probably just had a panic attack. Happen from time to time when you shock your body with drugs. - Newt sounded emotionless, feeling terribly tired.
- Newt. You are not okay. - Sonya tried to keep her voice even but it still trembled.
Newt was an idiot for calling his sister in such weak moment.
- I know. I'll probably spend a couple of hours in the bathroom, feeling like my whole insides are falling out and be okay. - His voice still was emotionless.
Where have all his emotions went?
But that didn't matter at the moment, he wanted to sleep.
- Newt. What happened with Thomas? Why can't I call him to check on you? Why isn't he with you and how did you get to this point? And what the bloody hell all the talk about some girlfriend? - Newt could hear Sonya walking somewhere, the water running.
- Are you making tea? I would love a cuppa. - Newt yawned.
- Newt. I'm in London. You're in America. -
- Oh, right, right. Forgot. - Newt could feel sleep already pulling at him. - I probably should drag myself to the bathroom before I pass out. -
He murdered for himself but could hear Sonya sigh.
Newt slowly pushed himself to his knees, crawling to the bathroom, collapsing on the fluffy bathroom mat near the toilet.
- Newt, please talk to me. That silence is terrifying. - And just like that Sonya sounded like a little girl again.
- Sorry, sorry. Was just crawling to the bathroom. Now I am good. Fluffy mat. - Newt mumbled, still hearing the soft hum of music playing from the loft.
- Newt, are you sick? How long ago did you take the drugs? -
- It was light outside. Snowing. It's snowing now too. I don't know. - Newt sighted.
It was getting harder and harder to speak.
- Tommy. Well, Thomas. We had a big fight. Friday's morning. I got into fistfight that night at the bar, my side hurts a lot, do you think that lungs can fall out? When I got home Saturday evening, we had small argument and then sex, gosh, Liz, the sex. Why is it so good? I have no idea. We fucked, made love, fucked. But through it all, it just felt like a massive goodbye. I could sleep that night, he did. After shower, even shower felt like goodbye. In the morning I walk to the kitchen and here she is, laughing like a witch while Tommy cooks and just smiles this loving smile at her. I just walked away, I was drowning. I have been drowning for some time now. At least for the past week. I just needed to get away. Vodka didn't help. Sorry, I found that one too. And then I found the box... I didn't think, I just needed to, you know? I just... Lizzy, I think that I am falling again. Back into that hole. And I don't know what to do. - Newt could stop himself rambling, his eyes falling shut halfway through, sleep starting to pull at him even harder.
- Do you really think that he's cheating? - Sonya asked in a soft voice, so sad, so so sad.
- Nah. Tommy isn't a cheater. But he likes her. I can see it. And I can see that I'm not enough. What can I give him? Nothing. She? She can give him babies. Being rich. House and all the shit. Tommy would be happy with her. - Newt sighted, barely awake.
- Oh, Newt. I think you really should just speak to him. Tell him how you feel. - Sonya was so caring, always so caring.
- I think I'm passing out... - Newt mumbled before actually passing out.
Newt woke up from a phone ringing right next to his ear.
He barely had time to push himself up to lean over the toilet seat before throwing up.
And sure enough, it felt like his insides were trying to get out, finding it best to be thrown up.
Newt hated this part.
He always hated it but now after years of not experiencing it, he hated it even more.
Cons about giving up drugs: you don't need to go through withdrawals.
Newt woke up in the dark, the phone ringing and ringing, his head trying to explode while his whole body felt drenched.
He rolled to the side, finally answering the annoying phone.
- Finally! Newt! I was so worried! - His sister sounded panicked and way too loud for Newt's ears.
- Fuck, Sonya. Too loud. - Newt groaned, curling up on himself. - I hate this part. I feel like a tomato salsa in a blender. I'm a tomato. -
- Well, that happens when you use drugs. Listen, I am searching for the quickest flight to you but it will still take hours. - Newt could hear his sister typing something.
- Liz, stop. No need to come here. I'm already better. - Newt wanted to drink but he knew that getting up was not a good idea.
- Newt. Of course, I do need to go. And I'm already halfway there. Just hang in there, okay? I need to run, boarding has started. -
- Sonya, no! -
- Newt. You didn't let me call Thomas to take care of you. I had no other choice. I am not risking losing you again. Understand? - Sonya's tone was strict, shutting Newt up. - Good. See you soon. Try to drink some water. -
Just like that the line went dead.
Newt groaned again, pressing his burning face against cold tiles and passing out right away.
Newt woke up from something cool being pressed against his forehead.
He slowly opened his eyes.
- Welcome back. - Sonya smiled sadly at him, softly wiping away sweat from Newt's forehead.
- Liz... - Newt's voice broke, he couldn't help but start to cry.
Despite how sweaty and smelling he was, Sonya pulled him into a hug, holding him while Newt cried his eyes out.
When he finally calmed down, Sonya helped him undress and get into the bathtub.
He felt ashamed, he couldn't look her in the eyes.
He also noted that he had pissed himself while going through withdrawals.
Sonya didn't leave him, helping Newt to wash, after wrapping a fluffy towel around him and helping him to the bed.
Newt was feeling awful, too tired to protest Sonya taking care of him like she have done all these time before Newt got help.
- Thomas called. A lot. He was out of his mind. Worried sick. - Sonya helped Newt to eat plain soup. - It took me like half an hour to calm him enough so he wouldn't rush here himself. And only after I said that I am coming here to take care of you. I didn't tell him about drugs. It's not my place to tell such a thing. -
Newt wanted to apologize but he knew that it would do nothing, only make Sonya even more upset, so he just shut his mouth, sinking deeper into pillows.
Sonya got up to wash the dishes before coming back to Newt, pulling him against her chest.
- Should I call Doctor Paige? - She finally asked in such a gentle voice that Newt could feel his heart sinking even more.
- I don't know. - Newt sighted, hiding his face in Sonya's big sweater.
- We will work this out. I promise. Just please, don't give up. I need you alive. - Sonya murmured after a while, hugging Newt a bit tighter.
- I'll try, Liz, I'll try... - Newt breath out, sleep already pulling him down.
Newt woke up feeling a lot better, his body sore all over but at least not trying to tear itself apart.
He could hear distant voices, not too soft, more like anxious sounding.
Newt pushed himself up, noticing that Sonya had somehow got him into boxers and a shirt that was way too big for Newt.
He slowly walked to the small corridor of his loft from where the voices were coming.
Thomas was standing in the doors, still in the same clothes Newt remembered seeing him yesterday's morning, his hair an even bigger mess, dark circles under his red rimmed eyes.
Sonya was blocking his way, hissing something at him.
Thomas looked up, meeting Newt's eyes.
- Newt! - He screamed before pushing past protesting Sonya and ran to Newt, pulling him into a bone crushed hug.
Newt couldn't help the groan breaking out of him but he still melted against Thomas, pushing his face against Thomas' neck.
- For fucks sake, I'm going to get us something to eat. - Sonya threw her hands up before walking outside.
Thomas was trembling in Newt's arms, holding on for dear life.
- I'm okay. - Newt mumbled somewhere against Thomas' neck but Thomas just shook his head, pulling Newt even closer.
- I was so worried and she wouldn't tell me what was happening. And you had left your phone at home. Newt, why? - Thomas finally broke their hug, looking Newt all over.
- I slipped. - Newt walked back inside his loft to sit down, Thomas following him. - Wasn't doing well and it just happened. Ugh. -
- Oh, sweetheart! You could have just come to me straight away. - Thomas start to kiss Newt's cheeks.
- I just... I don't know. I was a mess. - Newt couldn't help the tears starting.
- Was it because Teresa came over? - Thomas cupped Newt's cheeks in his hands, looking him deep in the eyes.
Newt just nodded before collapsing in Thomas' arms.
- Sweetheart, we are just good childhood friends. I love you and want to be only with you. You hear me? Next time you feel this insecure, just come to me, we will talk it all out no matter how silly. - When Newt nodded again, Thomas kissed him.
Newt knew that he probably will need to start his therapy again but at least Thomas was by his side, being his rock.