The Deepest Depths Of High

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: Morts divorce left him feeling so empty and useless. Instead of moving on hes moving on to different things. He starts out with drugs which turns into an addiction but then a new girl enters his life. But can anyone save him now? R for language sexuality and extreme drug & alcohol use.

A/N: Wow eight chapters...I've never gotten this far into a fanfic before lol. Ok well...please please please please review....I think Dawnie-7 and DeppGirl are the only reviewers I'll get...lol but that's okay. I love you all anyway. Haha ok here we go. ---razz

Chapter Eight:

After much persuading with Amy, I had finally convinced her to just let me be. It took a fucking long time, but I finally got her to go. I'm not sure where she went after she left, but at least I was alone now. At least I now had some time to think....

I layed down on the couch again, returning to my usual thinking spot....I hated thinking....because whenever I start thinking and I'm all alone, guess who comes back?

Stop drowning yourself in even more self-pity, Mr. Rainey. No one cares that much about you.

This time I had the courage this time to just ignore him. He didn't exist....Just a figment of my imagination...just like I was to everybody else...a figment of their minds....

See what I mean?

"No, I don't. You need to shut up, Shooter, before I hunt you down and slit a knife at your throat."

Wouldn't be surprised if you did, Mr. Rainey. You seem to have all of a sudden taken a liking to blood.

"Especially when it's yours."

Mine is yours. We share everything.

"No, we don't! Everything I have is mine! MINE! YOU DON'T EXIST, SO YOU GET NOTHING!"

He didn't respond. I wondered if I had sent him away....That would be a fucking miracle. If he was gone, there would be only one person left in my life who actually was putting an impact on it....Tiffany. Not that Shooter was putting a good impact on my life like Tiffany, but it was still an impact, whatever the hell that word means nowadays.

I found myself back in the bathroom. I was going to see how long it would take for me to stare in the mirror without wanting to do anything....This was my test of addiction....I continued staring at my reflection, not understanding what I saw. I don't remember this person....He used to look so much different....All I saw now were big bloodshot eyes and ghost-white skin. The same question kept playing through my mind as I stared at my reflection, which wasn't staring back. What is happening to me?

I slammed my fist into the mirror.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tiffany came over again. Yay.

She knocked once and then let herself in. I was sitting there asleep on the couch, but I woke up a couple minutes before she came. Man, I was so happy to see her....

She sat down next to me on the couch and the first thing she did was give me a hug. I soaked in her warmth and it was only after she pulled away I realized she had been crying. I looked at her and touched her soft face. "What's wrong, Tiffany?"

She leaned onto my chest and I wrapped my arms around her. She was breathing rather quickly. I stroked her hair and kissed her neck softly, trying to calm her down. She was staring down at my mended wrist. I suddenly knew what this was all about....

"Amy told me," Tiffany said, slowly regaining the steadiness in her voice. "I'm sorry, Mort. I'm sorry I ever made you do this. I-"

"No. No, Tiff-" I pushed her off of me gently and held her in front of me, looking straight in her eyes. "None of this was your fault. None of it. You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me, Tiffany. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't even be here. You saved me."

"Then who's fault is it?"

I thought. Yes...It was Shooter's. But I couldn't possibly explain that to Tiffany right now. It would break her down even more. "I don't know, sweetie..." I kissed her forehead. "I just don't want you to cry anymore, okay? Come here, baby..." I held her in my arms and looked down at her and smiled.

I realized I was extremely tired even though I had just been sleeping. I layed down on the couch, once again staring up at the ceiling. Tiffany then layed on top of me and stared through my glasses into my eyes. I decided to take them off because they were getting foggy anyway from my tired eyes. She kissed me, causing my hands to roam all around her body. I moved on to her neck and the upper area of her chest, which was exposed by the low neckline of her shirt. I let go though the moment I heard her say something.

"Mort...I love you...."

I looked up at her and stared in her hypnotizing eyes. "I love you, too." I kissed her passionately and just couldn't help myself. My hand wandered up the back of her shirt and unhooked her bra. She held on to me in a way of saying to continue. Again, I threw a blanket over the two of us, and we spent the rest of the night falling in love.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Eh I would write more, but I'm not good at sex scenes...lol! Sorry this chapter took a while. And it's short too. I'm sorry. Check out my new fic, okay? It's called Mom's Dead, Johnny. Yup. It's weird. But so am I. Gwen Stefani rocks. And I DID give this chapter a title on purpose. This will be the only chapter with a title. Just another odd antedote of the Jamie files :D ---JAMIE