Start the song. It's Feels Like We're Dying by Johnny Goth.

***I haven't slept in 24 hours so we'll see how this goes.***

Josh's veins burnt a whole lot less after shooting up yesterday. Luckily he wasn't an every day kind of junkie like Ashley. Well, not yet. For the time being, though, he had about a full day to function like a normal human being before the withdrawals kicked in again.

Just like yesterday, Debby had made them all shower together this morning. She hadn't tortured Ashley the whole time though, so they were still going to be able to get along today. In fact, she'd been cosier with her girlfriend than ever when Josh left for work this morning, and he was glad. She looked happy, even as she'd sipped her coffee while Ashely shot up for the first time of the day. That vein in her thigh wouldn't last much longer. She'd have to relocate soon enough.

Josh absent-mindedly rubbed at his own stinging arm as he leant against the counter. It was empty in the gas station today, and Josh was glad. He didn't want to deal with anyone today.

It wasn't until Debby had freaked out in the shower this morning that it was brought to Josh's attention that another one of his veins had collapsed last night. It was swollen and bruised today, and even his tattoo couldn't cover the fresh black track mark hiding beneath his skin. He was lucky he'd been too high to feel it last night and that he was too buzzed now. It was going to kill him tomorrow.

Freaking out over it wasn't necessary though. Debby was overreacting. Josh had read somewhere that if every vein in the human body was laid out in a row, it would cover about 100,000 miles. Surely the destruction of two wasn't that big of a loss. He could find another vein in his arm or start shooting up in the other. Hell, he could move up to his wrist instead. There were lots of options.

He'd be fine. Besides, he was getting better. He couldn't just quit cold turkey though. That would be stupid. He needed to just monitor his intake or something. It was just like when his dad stopped smoking. He'd worked his way down to it. It was like when his dad took himself off of painkillers and his mom quit drinking. He'd be fine. It just took time.

Josh looked up when the bell on the door chimed, glancing over at it. He sighed when he saw the familiar face of the boy who walked through the door.

"You aren't supposed to be here, dude," Josh reminded him.

Jordan shrugged, leaning against the counter next to Josh. "I needed to talk to you about something."

"Is it how Mom and Dad are going to hunt me down and skin me if they find out I let you come within five feet of me?" Josh asked as he walked back around behind the counter.

His little brother sighed, staying put. "Dad relapsed two months ago. He doesn't get to decide if you're a good person or not."

"Mom will still murder me," Josh pointed out.

Jordan shrugged. "Yeah, well, I need to talk to a man who isn't zonked out on Xanax, so here I am."

The hypocrisy of being disowned by his addict parents for being an addict would never stop pissing Josh off, but it was out of his control. He nodded, giving his little brother his full attention.

"Okay. What's up?"

Jordan shrugged his backpack off, unzipping it as he spoke. "So, we learned in health class a few days ago that you're more likely to be an addict if your parents are, right?"

"Right," Josh agreed, not sure why Jordan thought this would be new information to him, but giving him a chance anyways.

"And that's, you know, what happened to you. Ashley got out okay, but I don't know what that means for me and Abbie. I've been freaked out over it for a while, but then it hit me," Jordan explained.

Josh's eyebrows drew together in confusion as his jumbled brain tried to process all of this. Ashley? Jordan knew Ashley? Oh right. Their sister. Then he got concerned.

"Who hit you? Dad?" He grabbed his little brother's chin, turning his face to check for bruises. "Where?"

Jordan pulled Josh's hands off of him and shook his head insistently. "No! A realization hit me. Not a person. Dad's...he's been doing better since you moved out. Anyways, I realized that since we already have the addict gene, it all comes down to environment now. I can't live with Mom and Dad anymore if I want to turn out okay."

"I'll pretend that wasn't insulting," Josh mumbled, ignoring the way it made his brother's eyes widen with guilt. "Look, man. You're probably right, but where the hell do you think you're gonna go? Ashley's got her own life in fucking Tulsa or wherever she went. You wouldn't be any better off living with me. Where else would you go?"

Jordan pulled a pamphlet out of his backpack and handed it to Josh. It took a second for Josh's brain to process that this was a brochure to a school. It was for military school.

"Jordan, no one voluntarily goes to military school. That's kind of the point," Josh explained to him carefully.

His little brother sighed. "Josh, it's better than here. I don't wanna be stuck here forever. I've gotta do something before it's too late."

Josh studied his brother before nodding. Jordan deserved better than what he'd gotten in life thus far. Josh would help his little brother however he could. "How are you planning to pay for this then?"

That made Jordan go silent, and Josh could tell he hadn't thought that far ahead. He looked fearfully at Josh. "If I got a scholarship, maybe?"

Josh nodded, glancing at the brochure again. Tuition was expensive. This was the kind of school that rich parents sent their kids to when they acted out. Josh's dad hadn't worked in years, and his mom was just a second grade teacher. They couldn't afford to send him anywhere.

"Look, man," Josh began, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I'll help you as much as I can, but you know where I work. I'm not exactly Bill Gates."

He was surprised when his little brother leant across the counter and hugged him. He hugged back uncertainly. Jordan clung to him a bit too tightly, but Josh understood that, hugging him a little tighter too. They'd been close before Josh had gotten kicked out, and it wasn't exactly like either of his parents were going to be paying much attention to him or Abbie.

"I miss you," Jordan said quietly against the fabric of Josh's hoodie.

Josh sighed, patting Jordan's back a bit too hard. "I miss you too. You been keeping an eye out for Abbie?"

Jordan nodded against Josh's chest. "Mhm."

"Good job. She needs you. I'm proud of you," Josh told him carefully, knowing full-well how little that sentiment was uttered in their house.

His little brother nodded again, but didn't let go of Josh. "Are you gonna get better soon so you can come home?"

Josh sighed. "Yeah," he lied. "I'm working on it."

Jordan pulled back from the hug then, beaming at him. "Really?"

"Absolutely," Josh lied again.

The pride in his little brother's eyes was worth a stretched truth. He trusted that Josh would do it, but it would be so long before he saw him again that the lie wouldn't hurt anyone. Surely by then he'd be sober. Right?

"You should get home though. Don't make Mama suspicious, okay? I can't do shit to help you if she kills me," Josh reminded his brother, who instantly nodded and stuffed the brochure back into his backpack before zipping it up.

"Okay. Tell Debby I said hi."

Josh nodded, feeling his chest tighten slightly as he watched his little brother head for the door. He looked so much older now. He was what? Sixteen? Seventeen? He'd been in middle school the last time Josh had seen him. It had been four years, yet he was still choosing Josh to come to for advice. Josh was used to phone calls that his mother or father listened in on them to make sure Josh wasn't polluting his siblings' minds.

"Hey, Jordan?" Josh said quickly before he could leave. His little brother faced him again. "Thanks for coming to see me."

One of the corners of Jordan's lips tugged up into a half-smile. "Anytime. Love you."

"Love you too," Josh replied, feeling more relief from those words than he knew was possible. Jordan didn't hate him. Jordan truly did think he was going to get better. "Let me know what your plan is with that school. I'll do whatever I can to get you there."

"Thanks, Joshua," Jordan said quietly.

It made Josh's heart ache a little to watch Jordan leave the gas station. He knew he'd been Jordan's last resort. Why come to an addict for help escaping becoming one? He hadn't come to Josh to find a sober person to talk to. He'd come to confirm for himself that he didn't want to grow up to be like his brother.

As much as that hurt, Josh agreed. He hoped Jordan would grow up to be nothing like him. In fact, that was one of the main things he prayed about whenever he stumbled outside to look at the stars after a night of shooting up. He prayed for Jordan. He prayed for Abbie. He prayed for his little sister, Ashley, who'd already made it out.

Even when Josh was signing out of the register and grabbing his things to leave, his heart didn't stop aching. He couldn't even feel his collapsed vein with the immense pain in his chest. Part of him wanted to shoot up again so the pain would go away, but another part of him knew that was a bad idea. His only hope was that Debby was home to protect him from that train of thought. Ashley wouldn't be any help. She'd probably fill the syringe for him.

Thankfully, they were both home when he came into the trailer. Even better, Ashley was tattooing someone, so he didn't have the option of shooting up. Some kid was sitting on the couch next to Debby, talking to her animatedly about some book Josh hadn't read, but Debby clearly had.

Josh rubbed Ashley's shaved head as he passed her, making her laugh. "When has rubbing my head for good luck ever worked?" She asked him.

"I'm not dead, so it's clearly not bad luck," Josh pointed out.

Ashley smirked and Debby giggled, holding her hands out to him. He smiled, seeming to surprise both the kid getting tattooed and his friend as he climbed into her lap instantly, making her laugh and wrap her arms around his waist.

"Rough day?" She asked him, letting him hide his face against her neck before soothing her fingers through his hair.

He nodded, but didn't say anything. The sound of the buzzing needle pumping ink into that kid's arm soothed Josh, but it also made his chest ache even more. He missed doing that. He hated his shaky hands and collapsed veins. He hated feeling so broken down and useless all of the time that he didn't care if his girlfriend held him in front of complete strangers.

"So you're the guy who's dating Debby but not Ashley, who's dating Debby but not you?" The kid on the couch asked.

"That would be me," Josh mumbled tiredly against Debby's throat.

"That's kinda cool," the kid getting the tattoo replied.

Josh laughed, lifting his head to look at him. "Not really. I still just have one girlfriend, but I have to get lectured by an angry lesbian too."

"I'm your fucking favourite angry lesbian," Ashley replied with a smirk.

"You're definitely probably in my top twenty," Josh replied, making her roll her eyes.

"You're such an asshole," she laughed out, wiping at what she'd inked into the kid's shoulder so far. It was just two black squares side by side at the moment, but the linings of two rectangles beneath it were present.

"Be nice to each other. Oh my God," Debby laughed out, hugging Josh a little tighter.

He appreciated the closeness. His brain was still a little out of it, making it easy for him to sink into her and forget about Ashley. The ache in his chest was dulled by the warmth of hers pressed against it. His eyelids slipped shut as he breathed her in.

There had been a time when Debby hadn't smelled like green apple shampoo and cigarette smoke. Before they'd gone to rehab, Josh could remember falling asleep against her chest and smelling nothing but vomit. He could remember how skinny she'd been and how hollow her eyes had been. She was happier now, and that meant everything to Josh.

He loved his green apple girl who called him her baby boy and sang to him when he had panic attacks. He loved the girl who was so radiant that he saw her in the stars even when he was too high to see anything clearly. He loved having a girlfriend who didn't mind sharing the role of protector-holding him in her lap just as often as he held her. He'd loved the withered away, vomit-soaked, cocaine crazy girl too, but that couldn't even come close to how he felt for her now that she was healthy again. He wondered if she'd love him more if he got clean too. He didn't know. Maybe he never would.