A/N: Jeez, it messed up my formatting and I had to go through and completely redo my paragraphs! -___- anyway, lots of homework tonight (my English teacher is trying to kill us!) so a short chapter tonight for those of you who review asking for a quick update. (thanks guys!)
Pseudo Hanyou, based on your earlier review, what do you think of this chapter? (-- this person left an awesome review that's really motivated me to give this story 110%!)

Suggested listening: I'm not Ok- My Chemical Romance and Clubbed to Death- Matrix

Although withdrawal may be very unpleasant, opioid withdrawal is seldom fatal.

Mello never knew one sentence could mean so much. He sat back in the computer chair and stared at the ceiling, just listening to Matt breath. Finding out the type of drug hadn't been hard once he found the needle marks on the inside of his arm. It was now almost midnight but he hadn't slept, instead researching everything he could on withdraw, it's symptoms, and how to treat it, before it started to take effect.

At least he knew that Matt hadn't been on them for more than about two weeks. That would make the symptoms and pain milder if he was lucky. As far as he could tell, there were two treatments. One: he could substitute the heroin with Methadone and then wean him off of it. Two: he could just treat whatever symptoms Matt presented with things he already had.

While he would have liked to use the first because it would mean less discomfort, Mello was fairly certain it would take longer than a week. That only left the second option. Sighing, he glanced at the clock and grabbed a vest and his coat. He didn't bother to change before he left, liking his leather better than other clothes anyway. There were still a few hours before Matt would even wake up.

One troubling thing he found was that side effects varied widely with the person and circumstances. Anything fromcold sweats and chills, to fever was fair game. Matt could have insomnia or become depressed and sleep for days. Some possible results of withdraw almost sounded made up, such as excessive yawning, sneezing, or tears and Mello suspected they were less common if they were real at all. The things most websites agreed on were severe muscle and bone aches and vomiting, something he wasn't looking forward to for the redhead.

Mello straddled his motorcycle, deciding his first stop should be a drugstore to buy some basic supplies. The fresh air helped clear his mind and sort through what he needed to buy so that by the time he arrived, he knew what he wanted.

Several weird looks and one denied come-on later, he stood in line with a basket of fever reducers, ginger-ale, ice packs, nighttime cold meds (for insomnia), an electric blanket, mouth wash, and all the chocolate that would fit. Hopefully this would be enough to take care of anything that would happen. After checking out with only minimal staring from the cashier, Mello hopped back on his bike and sped to his new destination.

In the worst part of town, he stopped outside of a particularly run down building and flipped open his cell phone. He dialed a number he hoped still worked and waited, relieved when it started to ring.

"Mnf, 'Ello?" Oh right, it was pretty late so he was probably asleep.

"Dion? It's Mello."

"Mello?!" The man was wide-awake now. "I heard you'd gone strait! What's going on?"

"Just wondering if you keep a pill stash for your favorite customers?" Dion usually sold recreational drugs only like E and pot, but after finding a contact in pharmaceuticals he would sell prescription pills to select people he could trust. Mello had bought sleeping pills off of him on a few occasions and pain medicine once when he'd been shot in the arm.

Things might have changed, but apparently Dion was still in the drug business. "Uh, yea… you looking to buy? You know your business is always good with me man."

"Yea, got a buddy that'll be needing some mild pain killers real soon." As he said it he thought about who he was talking to. Dion was known for his easygoing nature, something not found much in dealers. He might know what to do, and would be nice enough to share the information for free with a sell.

"Listen, you wouldn't know anything about withdraw from heroin would you?" There was a long pause from Dion's end of the line.

"Shit, you got mixed up with that stuff? Look I—"

"No! It's my friend, that's why I need the pills! Jeez, I'm board now, not suicidal…"

"Ok, ok! Sorry, so when can you—"

Mello cut him off for the second time. "I'll be up in a minute." With that he snapped the phone shut and walked in the building.