inthesaferoom | Random texts post

[ He has immediate regrets about this. He was just talking about how Gavin is going to realize the fullest extent of who he is, then ditch everything they have going on. Asking him for help, because Mike is incredibly sick from something he did to himself? Bad vibes central.

He groans from where he's flopped on his belly on the living room floor. Not great. He tries to think fast, which ends up about half the speed of anyone normal, at least in this state. ]

No, uh, I'm fine. Don't worry about it.

[ He adjusts how his face is pressed to the hardwood floor, and sighs. ]

[ Gavin almost starts kicking the door but, in a moment of rare clarity and repressed aggression, he simply tries opening the door.

If Gavin weren’t worried before, now... ]

Mike, what the fuck?

[ He’s kneeling on the floor now, gently guiding Mike’s head to his lap. ]

You stupid, stupid motherfucker. What did you do?

[ Mike instantly tries to move away, or at least curl into himself, but it's a no go. He can barely stand to move. He's definitely got an unstoppable full body shiver going on. ]

No - I'm fine - you can't -

[ Fuck it, he's not going to be a burden again! ]

[ Gavin’s glad Mike told him to come over, but god. ]

Tell me what you took, dumbass. Tell me what you need.

[ He sweeps a hand across Mike’s face: feeling his forehead, cupping his cheek. ]

If you needed an ambulance I’m gonna assume you would’ve called one by now, or are you that stupid?

I got some Fent. But it fucked me up more than usual. Maybe it had something else? It was stupid.

[ He just shrugs at the idea of an ambulance. It's not an option, he can't ruin this new life before it barely starts. Then what would he do, go back? Live in the cages that are left? ]

Couldn't keep up with you. Wanted to actually understand. So I used some Narcan - bad idea, I guess.

[ He's more than a bit green. But he's not going to vomit on him, thanks. ]

Oh, you stupid fucking… fucking mother fuck. Would strangle you if you weren’t — goddammit, Mike. What the hell is wrong with you?

[ Gavin’s touch is tender — cupping Mike’s face, fingers sliding down to check his pulse — but his expression is a mix of worry and irritation. ]

You don’t have to “keep up” with me. I was just spouting bullshit. We could’ve talked later. You didn’t have to…

[ He sighs. ]

So you went and fucked yourself up ‘cause of me, yeah? Or fucked yourself up more because of me.

I’m taking you to the hospital.

Not because of you. [ It's suddenly very important for him to insist on this. He doesn't want Gavin blaming himself for Mike's own stupidity. He reaches to touch those fingers on his pulse, which is fast and slightly erratic. ] I'm the one responsible.

But I can't - no hospital.

[ His tone is literally pleading, in a way that literally never happens. ]

I can't get a new record. I can't - I can't lose this. Being here and around you more.

Shut up. If I hadn’t said all that shit, you wouldn’t be all double fucked up.

[ Which just reaffirms for Gavin that he shouldn’t say those sort of things. Look at what his love has done; look at who it’s hurt. ]

Fuck you and fuck me and fuck us. You think I’d just let you die so you could — what? Die all dramatically in my arms? Fuck you.

[ He keeps one hand on Mike’s neck, thumb rubbing along his jaw. Other hand fumbling with his phone, trying to clumsily input his passcode. ]

If you actually think it's your fault, I'm not going.

[ Because he's seeing a future where Gavin pulls away and he can't follow. Because if the fuy decides it's better for Mike that way - ugh. He touches the hand Gavin has on his phone. ]

It's me. I'm not fucking handling shit right.

[ He is going to force out a promise, one he'll actually follow. ]

I'll let them admit me for stupid emergency psychiatric treatment. Hate it but I can cope and not make you feel like your words are a crime? I'll do it for that.

Edited 2025-07-26 08:04 (UTC)

Not my fault, then.

[ Gavin murmurs this: this lie. If it’s enough to convince Mike to accept the help he needs, then Gavin will say whatever, do whatever. ]

It’s you. You’re not handling… things.

[ Is that enough? Is Gavin pressing the bullshit on a little too thick? Whatever. He just needs to get Mike help, get Mike better.

Gavin makes the call. They’re on the way — whoever it is that’ll save Mike.

He thinks about how Hank would have hated him for this. Forcing him to get help. Maybe Mike will, too. All because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

Despite all that, Gavin sets his phone down. Sighing as he touches Mike’s lips. ]

There anything I can do for you? Anything I can get you?

A promise. I'll do it, too. I'll actually follow up for once - no bullshit. This is important.

[ He feels so fucking shitty, he just kinda wants to pass out. But this is important. He's setting everything straight. As straight as it can be with them involved, at least. ]

I'm not losing you, you're not losing me. Promise to stick around. I'll make better fucking choices.

[ He sounds as determined as one can when they're barely conscious. ]

Meant more like water, or something. But of course you go and ask for something like that.

[ Muttered under his breath: ] Of-fucking-course.

Okay.

[ Gavin isn’t sure he believes Mike. Why would he make better choices? Is the possibility of losing Gavin finally sinking in?

He would kiss Mike if he were willing to risk propping him up, but no. They’ll just have this. ]

You’ll make better choices. And I’m not losing you.

[ The rest — well, they’ll just have to see, won’t they? ]

Don't want water. Then you'd have to get up and I'm back with my face on the floor.

[ He doesn't care about that part. What he cares about is keeping close to him. Mike knows how easy it is to make a promise and not keep it. But he didn't miss that the promise wasn't made at all.

He's done it before. Accepted someone's around without promising to be. He knows that game. But he doesn't have a right to ask again.

Not after all this. He swallows a little bile as it threatens to come up. ]

Takes like ten seconds to get water. You really wanna be in my lap that bad?

[ Inserting humor into a stressful situation, yeah. Mike’s rubbing off on him — in more ways than one. ]

Hey. If you need to throw up… Jesus. Just not on me, yeah? If you can manage that.

[ Gavin’s expression is all worried again: brow furrowed. Lips thinned. Not even trying to hide his concern now. ]

Random texts post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

CW drug recklessness

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject