||[Nov. 11th, 2008|07:45 pm]
The Trainspotting fanfiction community
Title: The Way to Forget|
Pairing: Sick Boy/Renton
Watching Sick Boy actually lose it makes Mark incredibly uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that Mark wishes that he could die too and join baby Dawn in the peace. The last thing he could understand Simon saying was “FUCKING SAY SOMETHING!” Mark Renton cannot say anything at this moment, his mind is swimming between stoned out of his tree on the second day of a binge and a completely shocking, sobering reality that doesn’t react too well with the drugs in his system.
Finally Mark’s brain catches up, but the only thing he can think to say is “I’m cookin’ up.”
He does in record fucking time, and then soothes the pain for Allison, but of course, after himself.
Sick Boy is still standing over the crib in the baby’s room. Now, everyone has figured out the longstanding mystery of who’s the baby’s father was. I can hear something dying in Simon as he sobs continuously. I feel the tug that maybe I should go in and check on him, but he isn’t the type that would appreciate that... that being human compassion.
Sick Boy goes on for a long time, but the others of course have stopped hearing him. They care, but one of the most love characteristics of heroin use is that the world stops, all the pain goes away, it’s a wonderful place. Simon collects himself enough to get out of that room and go find skag; the only fucking thing he can think about. Anger is now coursing through him and the only explanation for it is that it’s just the way he is.
“Give us a shot, Rents.” He says calm, but with an angry overtone. He kicks Mark who is lying on the floor and Mark knows enough about Simon and that tone of voice to get moving. They both know about Sick Boy’s power over Renton. There are no words, mostly because Renton is awkward as fuck and cannot think of anything to say. It scares him that Sick Boy looks even worse than he`s used to seeing him, because he`s been crying. Renton gets the works and begins preparing a shot for the other guy.
Simon gets down and curls up in a ball on the floor, waiting for Mark to get his shit together. He closes his eyes, willing himself to die. He cannot handle this, anything but this, the baby can’t die like this because it means that it was partly his fault. He never really paid much attention to the baby; he’d held her a few times, bonded maybe. Now there is just an overwhelming guilt that he hates being able to feel. He needs the drugs, he needs to forget how to feel again. Sick Boy’s brain shuts down until he feels the prick in his arm.
The world gets very loud and very quiet at the same time, he can hear his heart beating in his ears, then it becomes peaceful, being wrapped up in the warmth of drugs and the luxury of forgetting is right there within his reach. That’s all he wanted.