# Kicking The Habit

Title: Kicking The Habit
Status: Complete
Characters: Trish, Reed
Rating: SFW
Classification: One Shot
Author: Grenadieranon
Summary: When your cruise through life with not a care in the world, does an act of violence up-end your perspective and make you rethink your priorities?
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He couldn't believe it.
He couldn't believe the reality that was unfolding in front of him.
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Surrounded by his friends, or what's left of them. Staring at a tombstone, the words 'Heaven restores you in light' etched into the stonework now etched into his memories as well. A framed picture with a black band around one of its corners showing a person from a better time.
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Closed casket funeral, too. From what he heard, it was better this way.
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When the picture was taken down by his former friends' parents, he had no words. He knew his trademark, laid-back attitude was uncalled for. It would not offer levity at a time like this. And he certainly did not want to piss off the two large men standing beside him. His principal and his former bros' father were intimidating at the best of times.
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The monument to the right was being adorned in flowers. Entire bouquets covering the headstone. Everyone present had something to give to the brother. Everyone, except Reed. He didn't know what to bring. He was even going to show up in his usual attire like this was just another day in the week, but his mutual friend made sure he wore a suit to the occasion.
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Finally, Fangs' mother, a sweet old lady who always wore a smile when they practiced in the garage, who always made cookies or some other food for them to eat during breaks, was now wearing nothing but tears and pain on her face. Barely able to contain herself, as she steps forward to the other tombstone to place a single, red flower on it.
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Reed looked upon the sad, lonely display, and scratched the back of his neck. 'Bummer' he thought. When everyone left, he looked at their father. A grim, stoic expression he came to know him with. And he didn't move. Even as everyone was filing into their cars, he just stood there.
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Reed wondered what must go through his head. Losing one child must be tough, but both on the same day?
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Sipping from his thermos, he briefly wondered if he should offer some to the others. They seemed so bummed out, and he knows this always made him feel relaxed. But it would probably be taken insultingly, like anything he could come up to say to liven up the downer mood.
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This was not a time to try and make everyone forget the sadness, it seems...
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Trish was sitting next to him on the passenger seat. He saw only pain on her face. Earlier today she was a mix of violent anger and sadness, switching between cussing out Anon and crying about losing her best friend. The two knew each other for years before Reed ever knew them.
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Oh yeah, Anon. Weird he didn't see him at the funeral. He was her boyfriend after all. Should have probably been there. Kind of a dick move to not show up at all.
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Trish was wiping a tear away from her eye, and Reed just placed a hand on her shoulder after shifting the car into reverse. She looked at him, the confusion from the past couple of days only replaced with devastation.
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"Just get me home, Reed..." She said. "...I just want to be alone."
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She was so angry. Even at him. He tried to console her before, tell her it's going to be fine, but every way he came up with to explain that nothing could be changed about the situation no matter how hard she cried and screamed just served to make her angrier.
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She even hit him, slamming her fist limply into his chest before collapsing into it, pulling on his tank top, and crying into it. "Why do you care so little? How can you just deal with it all? They were your friend too.", she said at the time.
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Everyone around him was a mix of roiling emotions. He felt the same. Sure it was a bummer Fang wasn't going to be able to hang out anymore, that they weren't able to play in the band anymore. The band would probably dissolve. But what can you do about it? What good is being sad all the time?
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When he got home after dropping off Trish, he kicked off his uncomfortable dress shoes and took off the suit jacket, flinging them haphazardly across the room towards a chair reserved exclusively to dump clothes on.
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He sat on his bed, graduation was coming up fast after the prom, only a couple of weeks left. They shut down the school for a while, probably to clean up the mess. He'd go to school, he'd probably be the only one there not a total bummer. Doesn't everyone know there is nothing to be gained from being sad about the past? They should all look to the future, instead.
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He took a swig from his thermos and laid back on his bed.
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Trish laid on the grass under a tree, a spot they picked out on the campus grounds to get away from everyone, from the auditorium they used to hang out in. She seemed pensive lately, just staring at nothing, going about her day like a robot. Reed approached with their lunches from the cafeteria as usual, sitting down next to her, placing the tray of food in between them.
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"Sup, bro?"
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Trish didn't respond, instead grabbing food and putting it into her mouth. Staring at the sky, Reed followed her gaze for a second, maybe there was an interesting cloud or something. No, didn't seem like it.
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"What'cha lookin' at?"
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Still nothing. Reed was slightly concerned not getting a response out of her at all. She wasn't this hard to talk to before the shooting.
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"Man, I don't know what I'm gonna do after graduation. Haven't really picked anything yet. Probably just going to end up doing entrepreneurial shit...run my own business and..." Reed saw Trish wasn't even looking at him, still busy staring holes into the ozone layer.
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"Are you still..." he started but got immediately cut off by his purple friend.
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"Reed can you just shut the fuck up? Really. I know this whole relaxed dude-bro personality is your thing, but I can't deal with you treating everything with the same indifference you always do." She sat up, looking straight at him, pointing an accusatory finger at his chest. "Not after that..."
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"Aw, come on Trish. Maybe I can get you something to improve your mood, ey? Want a sip?" he held out his thermos, swishing it a little bit while shooting her a cocky smile and a finger gun.
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"No, Reed..." she looked like she was ready to explode at him for even suggesting it, but her furrowed brows dropped, her eyelids lowered, and she changed her gaze to the bottle in his hand. "...I get it now...you were always doped out of your mind. Why would that change? I know you want to help in your own 'Reed way'. It's not that you don't care about how people feel..."
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She laid back down and stared at the sky again, hands under her head for support.
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"...You simply can't..."
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Reed withdrew his thermos and sat back, starting on the food he had neglected until now. Damn munchies driving him to devour his double helping of food in record time. Trish at this point stopped eating, leaving her half-finished veggies on the tray.
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But Trish's words stung. Of course he cared. He wanted his friend to be happy. To go back to the way things were. But she did have a point. Carfe numbed his mind to the harsher emotions that would mess up his calm. He preferred it that way because the alternative was this: being depressed or angry about things you couldn't change anyway. And what's the point in that?
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She stood up, looking at him. "You know. I always wondered how you'd be without that stuff in you twenty-four-seven, would I even recognize you?" She crossed her arms. Reed could see her trembling a bit, which usually indicated she got angry.
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"You always side-step any conflict, never really took sides. And when that fucking Skinnie came around, YOU decided to be all welcoming and shit."
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"Maaan, Anon was a bro. I just tried to be nice, you know. He really isn't a bad..."
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"YES HE FUCKING IS!" Trish was fuming, her face contorted into a scary visage, "Look at what he caused! He's the reason Fang, Naser, and the others are dead!"
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Pointing a finger at him again, she continued on her rant. "YOU should have backed me up more in getting rid of him. I knew he was bad from the moment I saw him! He wedged himself in like some leech and drove everyone apart, wormed his way into Fangs' brain and..."
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She was crying again. Her hand falls limply next to her again "...he caused all of this, and you just stood by and let it happen..." Nearby students were looking at her, some had their phones out, clearly expecting something dramatic to happen.
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That took Reed by surprise. "Hey bro, getting some hostile vibes here. It's not like I had anything to do with what happened."
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"Did you ever really care about any of us? Or were you just around because you had nothing better to do?" Trish wiped the tears from her eyes. Still avoiding eye contact.
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Reed thought hard about that, but he actually couldn't come up with a good answer. Sure the band was fun and he enjoyed hanging around the gang, but it's not like he felt super attached to anyone or anything, not like when he was younger...
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But he remembers his thoughts at the funeral. How he essentially treated everyone the same way, regardless of if he knew them for years, or met them just a minute ago. Maybe that's what she means?
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"I know it doesn't mean much to you, but I need a couple of days to process this, please understand." with that, the purple Trike turned around and started walking toward the school.
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"Dude, Trish...I..." Reed lifted his hand, clearly he had done something to make his last remaining amigo sad. She didn't turn around and just kept walking, clearly not intent to have any more said. He mulled over what she said. That he seems to not give a shit about anyone and anything.
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But he did. He was just really bad at conveying that. But there was also doubt, Trish never put him on the spot like that before.
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He sat under the tree, just by himself. The students who were expecting something long moved on after it was clear there wasn't going to be a big fight or makeout session.
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Maybe she was right about something. Couldn't hurt to cut down on the Carfe, not like he has to stop entirely. He tried hard to remember the time he started, the Raptor he was at the time. But try as he might, that memory was long gone behind a haze along with many others, he could hardly remember what happened two years ago or why he started doing Carfe so much.
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Maybe it'll come back to him some time. No need to worry about it now. He grabbed the tray and got up to return to his classes, some of which he would still have to share with Trish.
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'Hope it won't get too awkward, seemed really ticked off.' he thought, noticing the half-eaten meal she left behind.
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Finals came and went.
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Little by little, Reed had lowered his dosage. A sip a day less here, a cup less there. He didn't feel any different, although his financial situation improved a little bit since his stock would last longer now. He spend the time between finals and graduation realizing that every single friend walking away from you is enough of a wake-up call to make someone reevaluate their position, especially after one of your bros dies.
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'Bro' - That word always seemed weird when addressing Fang. They were allegedly neither a bro or a sis, but they didn't seem to mind, even before they called themselves 'Fang'. He addressed everyone the same way, a non-challant 'Dude' or 'Bro' or 'Amigo'...
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Why? He was so focused on averting conflict, to just cruise by in life with no care in the world, that he made no distinction between actual friends and random passersby. He always believed things would just continue as normal if he never rocked the boat, never challenged anyone.
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Should he have? Would that have changed anything?
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As his dosage lowered, his mind began to spin various scenarios in his head, memories of his past kept returning, memories of his time with Fang and Anon, as well as Trish. The various situations he sided with Trish and walked all over Fang's wishes, but also the times where he realized Fang should play the guitar if she wants, or told Anon to ask her for music advice. The music did sound better, and they had their first successful concert. He didn't really care at the time, but he realized now how important it was to them.
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They seemed happier...and he wanted his friends to be happy. And now they are gone, and he missed them. The only one he had left was Trish, and she was about ready to walk out of his life as well.
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Trish ghosted him at first, didn't respond to his calls or when he said hello at school. He recognized why now, she lost her best friend, and Reed simply wanted to move on. This is not how some people can deal with that situation, she wants to grief and he was being a selfish dick, even if he didn't intend to.
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Eventually, he simply walked up to her after school with two words: "I'm sorry."
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"You what now?" she snapped back. Clearly, she wasn't 100% ready to see him yet, as she shot him an annoyed glare. However, there was something different about him. He carried himself differently, his speech was less slurred, his eyes seemed more focused, but he looked...defeated.
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"I'm sorry I couldn't be a better br--friend, Trish." he straightened his posture and inhaled, trying to steel himself. His heart began racing like he was about to run a marathon "I thought about what you said. You were right. I couldn't understand how you felt, but I do now. Man...I feel weird..."
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Suddenly, his head began spinning. He hadn't taken any Carfe yet this day, simply being too preoccupied with his thoughts it slipped his mind. His hands were shaking, and he started swaying a little bit.
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"Reed? What's wrong?" Trish's expression flipped from annoyed to concern in a split second. She stepped forward, thinking Reed was about to fall.
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"Nothin, listen. I miss Fang too. A-and I was too high to realize what that meant. What it means for you, too. It doesn't just mean it's a bummer we don't get to-to haaaannn..." he hung on the last syllable like it wouldn't want to come out. Trish didn't know what to make of this weird display in front of her. He looked like he was about to puke.
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"Reed?"
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"Shit, I thing I godd wiffdrawal...shiiiit." He put a hand up over his eye and one side of his face, a massive headache setting in.
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"You, what? Did you actually stop taking Carfe?"
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"You...asked me to." His knees gave out, suddenly falling to eye-level with her. "I...forgot to take some today I think..."
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"Are you alright, do you need an ambulance or something?"
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"No, I'm fine." Sitting down on the back of his shins, one arm stabilizing him against a nearby wall. The other was still occupied trying to hold in the pounding that felt like it was breaking out of his skull.
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"You don't look fine. So, what? Do you need to take some now?"
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"NO!" He looked at her like she just suggested shooting him. "I...want to get better, man."
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"Reed, going cold turkey is dangerous!" Trish looked majorly concerned, trying but failing to help her friend back on his feet. "I don't care if you are only making slow progress, the fact you're trying is good enough!"
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"But trying ain't cutting it, bro. I was such a coward, never wanted to deal with problems." Looking her straight in the eyes, his voice trembled and slurred "And I'm not running anymore."
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"Dammit Reed, I don't want to lose you too. I'm calling a fucking ambulance, right now. YOU, help me lay him down!" she said, pointing to some random passerby.
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As the world around him faded to black, he could only hear the faint, echoey voices of people scrambling to help.
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The sting of the bright lights in his eyes hurt more than his splitting headache. Almost immediately upon opening his eyes, he wanted to close them again. He blinked a couple of times until his eyes fully adjusted to the light, but everything still looked washed out and too bright.
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He looked around the room, first to the right. A wall, various hoses connecting to his arm, heart-rate monitor, an IV. A bedside table was adorned with some 'get well' cards.
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On his left was a large window. It was dark outside, and he didn't know how long he was out, but it must have been a while. One of the chairs by the wall was occupied by a large duffle bag he didn't recognize.
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As his eyes wandered down to the foot of his bed, he saw the back of a very familiar purple head. Trish had her arms crossed on the edge of the bed, resting her head on them while sitting on a chair. She looked like she was asleep.
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Was she here this entire time? Hours? Part of him felt weird she would suddenly care so much after barely having spoken in weeks prior. He couldn't help but feel thankful he managed to keep her as a friend, a friend that was concerned enough about him to waste her time in a hospital while he was being treated.
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He shifted to get some of the soreness out of his muscles, joints popping as he did. He felt like a freight train crashed into him and almost reflexively, he reached out for a thermos on his nightstand, but caught himself mid grab as there was nothing there.
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Pain relief, that was all it ever was to him.
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"Reed?" a voice weakly said. "Are you awake?" Trish shifted her head up and turned to look at him.
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"Hmhh" was all he was able to muster as a response.
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"OH MY GOD! REED!" she shouted in excitement. Getting up from her chair, casually sliding it away from her with the motion, almost throwing it over. She locked her arms around his chest and arms for a hug, but a groaning pained noise erupting from Reeds' throat made her quickly back off.
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"Careful dude, my everything hurts." He spoke slowly.
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"Sorry, sorry. I'm just so glad you are okay." Her hands were now resting on the side of the bed. Her tail was wagging excitedly through the air. He's never seen her do that before.
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"Why? Man, how long was I out?"
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"Three days."
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That didn't seem right. But with how he felt? His eyes widened 'Three - whole - days?'...he couldn't believe someone staying a couple of hours, did she...?
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"Have you been here this entire time?" He asked, trying a concerned expression as best he could, but even his face muscles hurt to move. A burning sensation in his jaw even made talking hell. But he'll power through it. He's done running from pain.
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"Yes, of course I was. Reed, in case you hadn't noticed, our circle was always rather small...and you are almost the last thing I have left of it..." again, she started to cry. He knew why because losing a close friend is tough. "I couldn't...I..."
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"It's alright," Reed said, trying to smile. "I get it now, I had a lot of time to think and realize the full picture. I almost blew up my friendship with you trying to ignore reality. But..."
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His voice started to shake as he thought back to the grave, the capstone to all the things they did together:
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- the funny texts
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- laughing together at snoot-tube videos
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- coming up with stupid song titles
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- occasional food fights
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- the time Fang tried his Carfe for the first time
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Memories kept coming back one by one, flooding his mind with both happy and sad times they all shared together.
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For the first time in what felt like ages, Reed opened the waterworks. He just cried, years of emotions unleashing all at once. For once, he didn't feel like he had to hold back. And he was infinitely happy to still have Trish around.
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"Hey, been a while."
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It's the anniversary again. Reed and Trish standing by a familiar grave. He placed the flowers down they brought this time.
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"I'm still sorry I didn't bring you anything the first time."
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Trish was holding on to his arm and tried to contain her emotions, just like every time they came before. He would always do the talking, it felt cathartic to him and Trish could never manage more than a few words.
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"So, what's been going on: I'm close to getting my degree in electrical engineering. Guy says I should pass with flying colors. He's really impressed with my work, bro."
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They held for a brief pause as if waiting for a response.
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"I wish I could have been a better friend, Fang. I can't say I approve of what you did, but I wish I was more approachable. Maybe you would have had someone to talk to. Anon was clearly not good enough with people to carry you through that."
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He inhaled through his teeth.
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"That prom was cursed man, we should have called the performance off when your guitar broke and we had no spare. You really should have brought spare strings..." he chuckled a little bit. "But I was too doped off to say anything. You were so determined to play anyway, and I don't know why but didn't want to stop you, either."
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Tears started welling up in his eyes.
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"Dude, I don't know why I ever agreed to that double bass thing. It sounded like absolute shit, and you probably knew it better than any of us..."
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A weak "I'm sorry." came from the purple triceratops by his side, her face buried in his sleeve. Reed put his other hand on the back of her head, pulling her into a hug before he continued:
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"I should have said something. Anything. But at the time, I just went with the flow, didn't want to risk upsetting anyone, didn't care about the music...I was just happy to hang out with everyone."
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He let out a soft sigh.
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"We are doing alright now, it still hurts to think you are gone, but it gets a bit easier. Every day, a bit better than the last. Just like kicking my Carfentanyl addiction. It took a while, but I think I got a handle on it now. Oh, I almost forgot. I got this, I thought you'd like it. I know when I saw it it reminded me of you..."
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He stepped forward, pulling a necklace from his pocket. A tiny red and white guitar on a chain. He hung it around the cross beam and stepped back toward Trish, who was a sobbing mess at this point.
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"Well, that should do it for today. Was nice talking to you again Fang. Take care, Naser."
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They started walking to the car. On the way, Trish looked up at him as he wiped his eye with a finger.
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"You didn't tell them about..." She started, but Reed cut her off.
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"I think that's for next time, Trish. Let us settle in a bit before kicking down their door."
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He took her hand into his and turned to face her. Looking down, shooting her his trademark goofy smile.
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"You know, maybe you tell them...next time."