i know you got your problems, everybody's got 'em

The weight of him and the burn of the carpet under her reminded Rhodes of the nights he'd helped her drag his mother inside when they were younger, before he'd been able to do it himself. She wrapped herself around him just as much as she had to guide his body around hers. Rho held on to him tight with every cry that raked through his body in hopes of willing it from breaking him apart completely. He was suppose to endure, they both were. Moments like these were never allowed, and to succumb to it only seemed to scare her now. No matter how long she waited for it, to see it brought relief that he was still sane but worry of what came with the crash.

"She failed you," Rhodes told him, a stiff lip in her utterance. "She didn't mean to. She was suffering, but she failed to take care of you. You did that on your own, and I'm so sorry that I told you otherwise. You took care of her because she didn't know how to take care of herself, let alone you, and you did it as long as you could. But like her, like everyone, you have to choose yourself at some point if you want to survive. You did, and you did it right. I promise you, you did it right, Reed."

Her nod resonated with a tremble, facing the truth alongside him. His leaving had always been the right thing. There was no remorse to be had for it. She could only hope that the pain he carried wasn't from the guilt she tried to snag him on when he finally left. She'd seen his mother without him, and it was all the same. There was no attempt to save herself, and no release of responsibility or anger in his leaving. Renee stayed just where she was left, and the rest of the world moved on while she chased her tail. It was a dog eat dog world, and the stronger forces were always in her own head.

"You can still say goodbye to her," She whispered, cheek pressed against his tightly as she held on to him. Her arms squeezed against him. "It's not the same, but you can still say goodbye. She'll hear you, wherever she is. She has to. If there's one thing she's always been, it's that she's always been here even when she wasn't. That doesn't change now."

Rhodes pulled away only slightly to look at him, to try and find the fragments that didn't fit. She knew every jagged edge of him but something was wrong.

"What did you take?" She asked him softly.

This place was full of skeletons, ones that Reed had never been able to face and now there was no turning his back against them. All the times he had to protect his mother from herself: picking her up at the bar before the cops were called, making sure she didn't choke on her own vomit and pulling her into the small trailer before a snow storm so she wouldn't freeze to death out on the porch. Since the moment he could take care of her, he did and he was angry at her for being so selfish, but how could he be angry at a dead woman?

"I failed her," he whimpered, holding on tight to the only constant that was in his life now. Reed could always count on his mother at least being there even if she was too high or drunk to function. Now there was only Rhodes in his life and he had left her so easily too. Reed knew that she should have spat in his face the moment he stepped foot into this town, but she didn't. The only thing it made him realize was that he was the piece of shit for leaving her here, alone, "and you. I left you here alone."

Shaking his head, "why doesn't it feel right, Rhodes?" Maybe she knew something that he didn't, "this guilt has been eating at me since the moment I came back." Reed didn't want to show how much pain and agony he felt once he had returned. The trailer where he grew up, no empty from it's sole resident dying, he felt a part of him die with his mom.

A moment of sobriety entered him as her soft words hit him like a train, "I didn't-" he lied with a stutter, "I just wanted to sleep," he reasoned with another lie. Reed had hoped that maybe taking what she took, could give him an explanation on why she continued to feed her addictions, even when he begged her not to. Maybe, just maybe he could hallucinate her and apologize for leaving her. "Some of her pills, I don't know."

"I'm just saying, there's somethin' about you and me," Lennon insisted.

The finger around the rim of his glass lost grace and nearly spilled out over the counter. He just barely caught it, but he didn't stop rolling the cup on its edge. His focus remained on Reed which was challenged by the heat of the lights, the colors changing the haze of the room, and the salt from his drink still burning his lips.

Head leaned forward, he continued, "It feels like we've known each other a very, very, very long time. I knew it the day I met you, which is why I think I didn't mind hiring you even though you look like the wrong Eminem. I know you feel it. You get it. I think we've known each other in the past, but not this past, you understand? A past from some time else."

As Lennon leaned forward towards him, Reed leaned back away from him, "what did you take, Lennon? Because you're awfully close and in my personal space." Apparently there was a limit for Lennon when it came to the liquor he ingested, Reed just hadn't realized he had hit it. "I think that's supposed to be a compliment, but I really don't know anymore with you."

Reed stopped, choking on his drink as the word lover left his lips, "do you think I am someone else, Len?" The odd behavior coming from the other man was truly jarring and even sobering for Reed, "this shit is way too deep."

"What— it's not your fault, Reed. No," She interjected forcefully. She should have treaded carefully but she wanted to pull apart the irrationality of the foreign scene before her. She'd seen his mother strung out and so many more, and she should have been gentler. There was no telling where their heads lied and she didn't want to push him further down a spiral but she could only hope she could pull him upright in is own thoughts. "She didn't fall apart right when you left. She continued on her bullshit just like she would have with you here. There were people to help her and she still did what she wanted. What happened to Renee was her doing, and she would have done it with or without you. Some people you can't help, Reed. They don't want it. She didn't want to be helped, and she would rather be high than live back down here with the rest of us."

Taking his face between her hands to bring his focus to her, she shook her own head. His skin was cold and she was reminded that this wasn't the Reed she knew. Time had proven that with every single meeting between them, but she'd never seen him like this. Not this far strung, not this frail. In the dark of the trailer, she could almost believe this was the part of Reed that had been buried in the floor boards that needed be silenced for the sake of his mother. It was the Reed who had his back turned to her when she snuck in and they didn't say a word or touched a single inch, and the Reed that had to be left alone here for him to run with no remorse. There was no Renee to scare him off now with responsibility he shouldn't have needed to shoulder, no dream to soothe him to a lull, or a ceiling to break through in a floating high. This was all there was left and it must have not been hard for him to climb over himself to try and find comfort in the man he'd become. Rhodes could only wonder if the boy he'd been had found that relief, though this didn't look like catharsis at all.

"Look at me," She said. "It's not your fault. You can be sad without taking on all of it, Reed. You can feel bad without being responsible for it."

"No, no, no. She died, Rhodes and I didn't get to say goodbye to her," his body was weak with the sobs he continued to utter, seeing no end in sight for him, "I should have tried harder. I should have forced her to be better and now there's no way of bringing her back." Selfishly, he hated the idea that he was all alone in this world. Reed always imagined that even if his mother had her issues, she was there for him just a little bit sick. Once Renee Mercer was gone, who was he? An orphan with no mother who had no father, just himself.

Rhodes forced him to look her in the eye and he could see his swollen red face reflected in her eyes. His skin was red, bloated and splotchy, a far cry from who Reed prided himself on: someone without a care, but he was lost now, without a way to breath. "If I'm not to blame, then who is Rho?" Reed held on tightly to her, praying for saving in her arms as he so easily curled into her, just like when they were teenagers. "I tried to help her for so long and I gave up too quickly and she's gone because of my failure." All Reed wanted was the pain in his chest to subside and asking for penance seemed to be his only option now.

While she didn't want to get involved in the affairs that brought him back as a means of not prying, Rhodes also knew helping would be what would get him out of town faster. It was a selfish desire that worked for and against her. She could help him back out of this place but also have time with him while it lasted. He wouldn't stay and he couldn't, but it didn't mean it had to be any harder than it was already. She had offered to bring him some boxes for sorting through everything left in the trailer and would come to drop them off by the end of the night after work. Because of their lack of boundaries, habit over all else, she had pushed the screen door gently to see if it was open before stacking the boxes at the entrance. No sign of Reed, she assumed he had fallen asleep elsewhere until she heard ragged breathing and then something worse.

"Reed?" She asked, stepping inside to look for him. At the sight of his feet before the rest of his body, she moved quickly and then slowly when the scene painted itself. Rho carefully settled on her knees next to him, hand looking for his to help him upright. "What happened?"

In all the years they'd known each other, she wasn't sure she'd been sober enough to remember seeing him cry. It didn't matter that they'd seen the worst of each other. There was always a means of turning the other cheek when they were falling apart at the seams, but giving the other a safe place to put themselves back together— or even trash around for more damage.

"Sit up, here, slowly," She guided him softly, but a wide eyes gazed showed she was more concerned than the inflection in her voice. "Just against the door way, it's okay."

He felt his body being pulled up against everything as a hand clasped his and the familiar scent invaded his space. Rhodes. Reed didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, only saving these emotions for the demons that found a home inside his head. His body fell slack, the deadly mixture of alcohol and benzos causing his weakness.

"She's gone," he croaked out to her, vision blurry through the tears that fell down his cheeks, "and it's all my fault." The guilt of his actions had finally reared their ugly head and he wasn't sure how he could pull himself from the pain that washed over him.

"I left," he grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly, "you told me not to go and I did, Rho. Now she's fucking dead because I wasn't here to help her. She died all alone because I'm the selfish piece of shit." The anguish had become too much for him to hold under the surface, "you were right and there's nothing I can do to fix my mistake." @buryeden

location : aurora bay botanic gardens entrance

"Now if you want something else like a fucking gummy, I got you there," the tin was safely in his pocket, ready to go at a moment's notice to make the fest bearable. It wasn't terrible, it just would be a lot more fun under the influence.

I felt like ages ago that he was still here. Graduating high school, he had little hope that he would amount to anything or step foot out of the place. His mother was still an addict, in and out of the hospital, barely lucid most of the time and he was stuck with shitty jobs that he hated. He decided enough was enough, saving up as much as he could as he planned for the next two years. The only regret he had about leaving was being unable to convince Rhodes to join him. He never told her that he had saved enough for the both of them and when she refused, he left without looking back. Maybe it was his own pain that kept him from reaching out, but now it seemed that their friendship was still the same as before.

Shrugging, "no, I'm still a fucking cynic, I doubt that would ever change," he chuckled, "I just got to be a cynic somewhere else other than Aurora Bay and that was fucking amazing." "So other than your job that gets you driving all over the place, anything else new with you in the last five years?"

Her answer to his question was rolled up in a shrug that she bumped into his shoulder. Miss him? More than she should have for someone that was no more than a memory for a long time, but she'd hold everything up to what they had together as the only one who stayed the longest. There was never a time Reed had disagreed with her and made a run for it. They remained in each other's mess until it was cleaned up, only to get stuck in the rut again.

"Maybe? I think I might have missed someone who likes this shit just as much as me so I don't have to hear anyone complain about it," She said, lifting the crushed can up between them.

The more dreadful question, however, she wasn't sure how easily she could brush it off. Five years was a better answer, and she could stick to counting those bores on a single hand for the sake of avoiding the details she continued to blow away with every hit.

"Not anything you'd be impressed with." Good one. "But if we get over to the Reef, I might be able to make something up."

"Yeah, please," he told him after realizing his own pack was empty. Wasn't it half full earlier that day? Jesus, he needed to quit smoking. Getting his lighter out of his pocket, he offered the light to Reed. "You good in there?" It was now his turn to ask. His brows raised up a little, but he didn't push him too much with questions. Connor had a sneaking suspicion he was on something, but just didn't know what or how much.

Furrowing his brows, "yeah, what do you mean?" Reed was unsure what Connor meant by his statement. Was the distress he felt about his mother obvious? Or was there some other tell he hadn't disguised under shitty jokes and happy smiles? Or could he have known what he had taken earlier, "I'm doing great man, just weird being back here after all this time."

Her footsteps are slow to match his staggered ones, only reaching out every now and again when he veers off the sidewalk and onto the street, grasping his shirt to tug him back gently. "I'm sure your organs would sell for a pretty penny. Might have to stay away from your liver, though." If she was set to be a babysitter to a grown adult, she was going to have her fun with it.

"You have a wallet on you?" She didn't want to actually steal from him but to see his address because she couldn't trust that they were going in the right direction. Her eyes roll when she grabs him before he stumbles to the side. "It's not going to be for free. One of these days I might need a kidney or even a person to frame for murder and i'll come knocking on your door."

Shaking his head, "I got bad genes and with the amount of shit I've smoked, drank and taken, the organs got to be bad, right?" His feet led him forward, trying to keep him straight on the path but eventually he'd veer off, "yeah, I'd agree, bad liver, but that was inevitable. If you do sell my organs, have some fun with the money, won't you. Get like a nice fucking car or some shit."

Reed wasn't surprised he ended up in this situation when he arrived. It was bound to happen with the reason he was here, he just didn't expect it to happen so soon or to have anyone take care of him. "Yeah, it's here, take the ten for your troubles," he grinned, "but the address is wrong," he trailed off. There had been no reason to change the address on his old license when he was just transient through life, "that's my mom's place but she's dead, so we shouldn't go there," he sighed, "I live at this place, ocean crest apartments, I think."

Though he had no real reason to put utter trust in his words, he did any way and called it a gut feeling that he wasn't about to get stuck with some subpar shit at the end of it.

"That'd be sick, appreciate it. I don't have anything to hook you up with back, unless you ever need to jump the queue at the veterinary clinic, then I'm your guy. I'm Lucky, by the way."

Chuckling, "if I ever get a pet, I'll be calling you first," shaking his head, "don't worry about it though." Reed raised his brows, "Lucky you say? Feels like some type of omen, to be honest," he had never had a lucky streak in his life, but maybe Reed was having a turn of fortune, "I'm Reed, nice to meet you dude."

When she heard his offer, a smile crossed her face. "You know what? Sure. The night's still young, right?"

"The names Reed," he held out his hand for her, "and you are?"

"I might as well take what I can get while you're still here," She reasoned, forcing the small rise and fall of her body against him to go still. He didn't need to know that she could feel her heart now louder than before, and that there was a small hook on her breath just waiting for him to pull it out of her. "But you going back to your side? It's a given that you've never known what personal space is."

With the points of her fingers under his chin, she pulled him back to her lips with a collision of anticipation.

"Funny coming from you," he sighed, "how many times did you end up in my bed when we were teens? Nothing has changed between the two of us, Rho. At least admit that." His grin turned into a smirk as he stared back at her.

Her desire to bite back had disappeared as their lips collided. Rhodes distracted him from the pangs of anguish he experienced whenever thoughts of his mother entered his mind. Instead Reed focused on her, forgetting about his own problems.