Better Than Drugs

The pain was unbearable as he stumbled through the open apartment door. His whole life had gone downhill in merely four hours and he felt that reality creeping up his spine like a recurring nightmare. He had been caught. Redhanded. Taking things which a medical student at a hospital is not supposed to take.

"Damn them all!" Law's voice was hoarse from vomiting and the last scraps of his faltering self-control not strong enough to hold back the dribble of saliva forming at the corner of his mouth. With one hand searching for support from the cold hallway walls he dragged himself along. The lights were still on. Cupboards, bags and drawers stood wide open, his belongings were scattered across the floor and in the midst of it nothing. There was no emergency stash. His safe line of supply had been cut short out of nowhere this morning, when he stood face to face with the head nurse, the vault full of diacetylmorphine behind him with its door suspiciously ajar. He remembered a lot of panicking and running afterwards, but to what avail?

"Eustass-ya, you selfish bastard!", Law croaked while almost tripping over a pile of books. Kid knew. He fucking knew! He knew that Law was unable to live without the pain numbing substance. Yet he had refused to tell him which of his many acquaintances was the one selling the hard stuff.

Law entered the bathroom just as a new crippling wave of pain and shivers washed over him. Tattooed fingers tried to turn the key in its hole, but the tremors were too heavy and he had to let go and slump down on the rug.

For quite some time he remained motionless, his blank stare gazing into the empty void of the fever he was running. The symptoms of withdrawal were familiar to him, but he had never had it that bad. Never before had he gone 13 hours without a fix. After all he had been working conveniently close to the most reliable source an addict could imagine up until now.

Suddenly his heartbeat skyrocketed. He had messed up! His easy access to drugs was gone! His job was gone! He had no one left to turn to! Everything he had ever worked for was for naught!

"Mom…!"

He doubled up in a fetal position and started to cry. In the end he had been unable to keep a promise.

"Dad…!"

No matter how proud his father had always been of him and no matter how fiercely Law had sworn to find a cure for that damned illness which had taken his family away from him – loss was the only thing left. Again.

"Lamy…"

The pale, lifeless face of his sister came to haunt him. He would never be a doctor. He would never be able to find peace and it was his own fault.

"Roci..."

His sobbing grew louder and the nausea returned. Why was it that whenever he found people worthy enough to trust and love they were destined to die an awful death? Was it because of him? Was he nothing but a harbinger of that one word written across his fingers?

"No… Eustass-ya…", the memory of him pointing a gun at his boyfriend was still fresh and hurt by far the most, "Kid… Kid! I'm so sorry…!"

Slowly Law crawled to his feet again, then he brushed his face with one of his sleeves, failing to clear the smudged wetness. He hated it: the runny nose, the sickness, the pain, the guilt, the anxiety, the deep, dark sadness in his chest. His body was aching for relief as was his mind. Like a puppeteer the craving dictated his actions and gave him the energy needed to scavenge the messy bathroom floor for the necessary supplies. Finally he sat down between toilet and bathtub as his shaky legs failed to support him any further.

One hand reached inside his pocket and retrieved the tiny plastic bag. The sugary substance inside glistened like golden caramel and even though Law was not used to it looking like that he almost teared up at the promising sight. Soon everything would be alright again.

His actions went rather smoothly during the next few minutes. Despite him being unfamiliar with the stuff sold at the black market. The only thing he knew for sure was that he would need a much higher dose than usual, because in contrary to clinical diacetylmorphine the brown powder filling up the spoon in his left hand contained 25 percent active agent at best. A nervous sweat formed on his forehead as he added citric acid and then proceeded to heating up the mix with a lighter, all the while trying to steady his shivering arms. He needed to get this done quickly. The sickly sweet taste of heartburn in his mouth foreshadowed an unwelcome interruption and worsened even the stronger the chemicals started to smell. Trained hands then unwrapped a fresh syringe and prepped it with liquid. More. Even more. All of it. With nothing left to live for an overdose was the last thing he feared.

The next moment Law spun around to the side, clutched the toilet's white porcelain and threw up. Not that there was much left to throw up – it already was the third attack of its kind today and also he had never been a hearty eater. Thus slimy threads of stomach acid were the only thing he gagged up in violent spasms.

Once the retching sensation was gone it left Law with nothing but emptiness and pain. He slid down to the floor again and immediately reached out for the syringe which somehow had ended up in a dusty corner. Not that he cared. He needed it. Now. His whole existence cried out for sweet relief.

With a small prick the needle kissed him gently, then for a few seconds the veins in his left arm were on fire. He endured it teeth gritted and pushing the injection further. The pain would not last long, that much he knew.

A warm embrace suddenly pulled him close and reached deep down to thaw his frozen insides. With a faint clatter the syringe escaped his grip, but it was alright. Soothing touches like from a mother took away what had hurt and bothered him, leaving only ever-present bliss. A smile formed on his face. There was nothing left to worry about anymore. Even breathing became optional. In this cocoon of pure lightness Law felt at home and maybe this time he would finally be able to stay here forever.

Kid could not help but bother. No matter how hard he tried otherwise. Sure, a gun in his face had been a fucked up move, but it was not his first time dealing with a junkie. The irrational behavior and the spontaneous personality changes only reminded him of his older brother. On his worst days years ago. Before finally going through therapy and defeating his demons. So sadly enough he had to admit that he was used to it and resentment the wrong way of handling the situation.

If Kid was furious despite all that? Yes! If he was worried? Also yes! He cared for that little shit after all!

Law and him had been dating for three years now and during that short timeframe they had also been through so much shit together that a breakup was beyond question. There had been his troubles with the police, then Law's depressions with ever-changing medication and the following relapses, him being unable to keep any of his jobs longer than two weeks and finally the revelation that Law stole fucking heroin from the very same hospital he was working at. They had argued a lot after that. Mostly because Law kept insisting that he could quit the drug at any given time, but Kid knew better. He had already seen before what the devilish stuff did to beloved ones and was devastated at the prospect of witnessing it a second time.

Weeks had passed. To Kid's huge surprise though Law managed his work-drug-balance better than expected. He never accidentally overdosed, threw a temper tantrum because the shot failed to elicit a high or even ran short on cash. Easy access to hospital drugs obviously had its perks. Yeah, maybe the depressive episodes became worse, but good old dope made everything alright again just in seconds. Not that Kid was too happy with the situation. He learned to tolerate it though. Simply because an angry rampage had near to no effect on Law's addicted mind.

From then on Kid had only watched, unable to do anything. Whenever Law displayed symptoms of withdrawal he just bit his lip and clenched his fists until he bled, but did not say a word. The same when Law started to grow noticeably thinner and their time together scarce. He even accepted their nonexistent sex-life. More or less. Alone at home in his own apartment, where Law could not see him, he had the worst of his infamous angry fits he ever remembered having. The fear for Law's health and his lack of power in this matter drove him mad. All he could do was praying to a god he did not believe in that the day would never come when somebody found out about the stealing.

But the day had come. Today, to be exact.

Completely taken by surprise he had had to experience it all over again: somebody he loved suddenly at his door covered in sweat, shaking and shivering, instead of giving him a hug yelling at him, demanding the names of people Kid wished he did not know. Fuck it! For one short moment he really had believed to see Killer standing in front of him and not that little shithead. Then, after regaining his posture, he had adamantly refused to give Law any information, while at the same time insisting that the hospital would be the safest place for him right now. Any criminal activities related to it aside. He just could not have him buying drugs from the streets.

One heated and pointless argument later Law had vanished into thin air and Kid had been too pissed off to run after him. Big mistake.

Law had decided to come back half of an hour later, in his hands that bloody gun. There had been not an ounce of sanity left in his expression and Kid knew better than to be uncooperative in front of a junkie with his shaking finger on the trigger. This way Law finally had managed to squeeze all the forbidden knowledge out of him and there was nothing Kid could have done to prevent him from running away on the road to ruin.

As he now entered the tall building there were two things Kid was absolutely sure about: First, Law had already bought the heroin. And second, something was off. He climbed the stairs up to the fifth floor and found his suspicions confirmed at the sight of the wide open apartment door. A muffled "fuck" was his sole reaction, before walking inside with heavy steps, on the verge of losing his temper again.

If it was experience or his instincts nobody would be able to tell, but whatever it was, it led him straight to the bathroom. He kicked the door open and was immediately greeted by the stench of vomit and the sight of Law strewn across the floor. An empty syringe lay only inches away from his hand and on his face there was this terrifying smile of utmost contentment.

"Fuck you, Trafalgar!", Kid snapped, "Just fuck you!"

He came closer and picked a small pouch up from the ground. What was inside he knew well enough, so no need to inspect that; his actual interest was held by the wrapping itself. One look was enough though to make him squish the bag in his hand like vermin and throw it back onto the floor.

"Caesar, I swear, this time I'll kill you!"

The secret Caesar Clown Laboratories were famous for producing high percentage dope that looked awfully similar to cheaper stuff. On top of that it was always cut with the most peculiar substances. There was no way Law, completely inexperienced regarding the black market, would have been aware of these facts. Worse even: he might have assumed that he needed four times his usual dose in order to get a kick out of it. He might have overdosed.

Fear pierced Kid's heart and made him kneel down next to Law, checking on him. His face was pale with a dangerously blue tinge and his pulse so faint that Kid had trouble sensing it. Did he still breathe?

"Shit, Law! Don't you dare to die on me!" He slapped his face in an almost gentle manner, but there was no reaction following. Law only kept on smiling. As if he had seen an angel. "Law! Please! Wake the hell up!", Kid yelled at him, ignoring the angry tears that had started to blurry his vision. Law had to be still alive. He simply had to!

Acting on a quick-witted thought Kid pulled his phone out of his leather jacket's inside pocket. If there was anything he could do right now, it was calling an ambulance.

He nearly dropped the device when he saw Law's chest slightly rising up for a moment. He was breathing!

"Law, come on!", he started to shake him with one hand while holding the phone to his ear with the other, "You won't leave me alone like that, you goddamn junkie! We can make it alright again! We always fuckin' do!"

And then, at the same time someone answered his call, Law decided to speak. A faint whisper only, but Kid heard every single word.

"Eustass-ya", he smiled, his cheek slightly touching Kid's palm, "You're better than drugs."