"Eyyyyy Mikey, you in here?"

He knew the voice, he knew it. But at the same time he couldn't recognize it. His heart was pounding out his chest, Why had he tried it? He always hated when Trevor did it, so why did he? Oh right. Amanda, that's why. That's always why he does shit like drinking himself into a stupor or getting so high from jimmy's stash of weed that he'd pass out on the floor outside of his room.

"Mikey? I'm coming in sugartits. You better not be drunk off your ass in there!"

He heard the door knob moving, he knew he made a mistake. Why did he buy some off a shitty dealer. His best friend made the shit and yet he still bought some from an unknown source. He had just wanted to try it. He just wanted to see what it was like, it was amazing.

The door opened slow

"Michael! What the hell are you doing?!"

The yell was enough to get him to look up.

"Trev..?"

"You dumb son of a bitch! Where did you get this?!" Trevor specifically hid all his shit, he knew Michael would get curious.

"Some guy? I don't remember" The high settling into his body, everything was so odd. He couldn't remember the last time he felt even close to how he felt now with alcohol.

"Shit! M how much did you take?" Trevor keeled on the floor next to Michael. Placing a wet rag on his head, this wasn't supposed to be like this. Michael was supposed to be the stable one in this mess, the one not addicted to hard drugs. The melodramatic fool he loved so dearly.

"A lot, I'm in heaven T. I'm flying so far into the sky I see stars"

And with that Michael got up, Swaying from side to side. Trevor hops up and stabilizes him.

"This is gonna be a rough few days M. Cmon, let's get you in bed" Helping Michael to his shitty bedroom was the last thing he thought he'd be doing tonight. Laying him on the slightly stained mattress he combed Michaels hair out of his face. Helping him get out of his dirty clothes, he turns to his closet looking for something relatively clean and long sleeved. Finally settling on an old sweatshirt, he couldn't let his Mikey hurt himself when he finally started to come down from this.

"Mikey, where is it all?"

"Bathroom.. By the pipe, god Trev.. I missed you" Trevor could hear depression in his voice, Michael should not be depressed while high. It's a recipe for disaster, especially with Mikeyl being a complete alcoholic. That would make everything worse, him drinking. Of course he knew what he had to do. Check what M took, dosage, Quality, Potency. All of it. If it was laced with something else, he'd have Ron help with this shit.

The phone only rang once before Ron answered.

"T-Trevor? You called?"

"Yes you dipshit, Get over here. We have a situation."

Seconds passed before Ron opened the trailer door. Mikey was trying to get up, muttering something about needing a drink before this party could start. As gentle as he could he pushed Michael down to the bed.

"Ron, I need you to help me check the meth in the bathroom. M here took it without knowing the guy. I'm gonna secure the liquor and other stuff so this dumbass can't ruin himself more."

As soon as he said that Ron went in a hurry to the bathroom.

-30 minutes later-

Michael was not doing good. His thoughts were all over the place, literally. They were standing right in front of him, but everytime he went to touch one they disappeared. That is until T came back of course.

"T… Trev.." It was a pathetic attempt. Trevor, now sitting behind him with a bucket on hand, was very concerned.

"Michael.." The results from the lab were clear. M not only 'tried' meth tonight, but also shit ton of LSD. Those fucking roadside dealers, messing with his best friend. They will fucking pay for this shit. However, for now he will sit with his friend and hold him. Something Michael did for him on numerous occasions. He sat and cradled him in his arms. It wasn't much, but he knew how much it helped

-time skip-

The tremors were the worst, Bugs under his skin. He wanted to itch his body but Trevor wouldn't let him. So he sat and cried dejectedly.

It was fucking awful seeing Michael like this. Bawling, muttering about bugs under his skin. Begging to scratch his skin, Pleading with Trevor for a release. All he could do was hold Mikey's arms by his side, keep him from scratching himself till he bled.

-3 days later-

Michael was finally sober. After 6 days of help he was sober. The crash had him out for 48 hours. But that wasn't surprising since he had been awake for 3 days straight prior to the crash.

"You scared me Mikey" it was the first either had spoken since michael woke up from his drug induced sleep. He'd only been awake for about an hour. Trevor continued "I really thought that your body couldn't handle it. That this would all kill you. Michael why the fuck would you do this?! You've seen me have horrible times before and yet you still tried it!"

"I needed to escape. You always said it was an escape."

"What… Do you mean by that M?"

"I realized so many things before I took it, Trev. I realized I should've never made that deal with the FIB, I realized i'm just as much as an asshole as you say I am, I realized I was in love with you, I realized that i'm no better than my father just because I don't hit my kids don't mean i'm not like him. I realized I'm ready to divorce amanda. I couldn't take it anymore, Trev. I needed to release myself from these endless realizations." Michael had silent tears running down his face.

All Trevor could do was wrap his arms around him.

"I love you too Michael whatever your last name is."

"It's Townley. De Santa is dead, should've never existed in the first place."

"It sucks that it took all this to get Townley back, Seriously don't pull this shit again. I know your bodys already gonna be addicted. Trust me, it only takes one hit for someone to be addicted to meth. But promise me you wont ever put this shit back into your body."

"Only if you promise me the same thing"

"Deal porkchop. Cmon, let's get some breakfast at the diner nearby. My treat darling"

"Thank god, i'm starving"

~should I make this a multi chapter series?~