( gif by hazzawckd <3 )

I sat on the edge of my bathtub, letting the warm water rush into the tub as I felt the pit of guilt form in my stomach. What I did today was wrong on so many levels, following him into the cemetery and snooping into his private business like that was at an all time low for me. I felt awful,  horribly awful.

It was around midnight and I couldn't sleep, even knowing I had to get up on the bus in about five hours. I packed everything I needed, ready to just get up and go when my alarm went off. I was exhausted but my guilt was forcing me to stay awake, eating me up alive.

My conscience was never always this of a killer thing, I could do many things and not care much about it but tonight it was eating me up alive. All this rivalry against Hobie has made me back into the person I never wanted to be again, it's been harder than ever to turn back into that person I was when I joined this occupation.

I wasn't planning on getting the tub at the moment, just letting my feet get soaked in the warm water to try and do something to relax me. I was just in a sports bra and some hello kitty sweat pants rolled up to my shins. I kept my eyes strained on the white walls around me. My gut was telling me to go and see him, just to see if maybe he would let down his walls and be vulnerable with me even if it was for a second. But I debated, I debated for a while if I should. Then I just said fuck it and turned the water off, turning to dry my feet off and slip on my rick and morty slippers I happened to snag on the way back to the hotel today.

Maybe if I went to see him and he was an asshole to me, I wouldn't feel as bad anymore and it would cause me to hate him once again. Therefore it would erase whatever guilt I would have going behind his back so much more.

I grabbed my phone off the ledge of the dresser, walking over to the door and slipping out.

The second I got to his oak door, I knocked softly three times. I couldn't help but feel a little timid, I never knew what Hobie I would be encountering whenever we had these midnight exchanges. Drunk Hobie, Mean Hobie, Worried Hobie, Nice Hobie, you never knew. It's like russian roulette with him. I heard no movement after I waited patiently from the second knock, so this was probably not going to happen tonight. He may not even be here, it wouldn't surprise me if was out on the streets with Opium in some random club to drown away his sorrows and pain he had today.

I went to step back, but the second I did I noticed a small noise near my feet. When I looked down I realized the carpeted floor was wet with something sweet, I only knew because my nose scrunched up at the horrible scent. It was like expired wine, if that was even possible. It wasn't a lot, but it did start to seep out into the hallway carpet just around my slippers. I was utterly confused, lowering my eyes in deep thought. I instantly became confused, I lowered my eyes to try and figure out what the fuck I was staring at.

Was this water coming from his room?

"Hobie?" I knocked on his door again, now a little concerned on why there was a puddle forming outside his door.

With no answer I knocked again, not giving up now because I started to feel something was wrong, totally wrong. If there was this much water in front of his door, I was terrified to see how much was on the inside of his room. Snapping me out of my thoughts, I heard a giant bang from inside his room again, making me jump in my place. I let out a small gasp, my hand snapping towards the door handle and out of instinct I pushed the door handle down to try and see if it was locked or unlocked. And luckily, it was the latter. It was strange, though. Hobie never left his room unlocked, it always locked when the door shut. Like a second nature.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, the sound of running water from the bathroom came into earshot the second I fully stepped into the room.

I opened the door wide to reveal the hotel room was completely trashed, worse than how I saw it before. The sheets were ripped off the beat, the pillows had been cut and ripped apart, there were lines of some type of drug on the glass table near the bed, off to the side his clothes had been thrown onto the floor and scattered around the room. His guitar was smashed and of course, a lamp was shattered on the floor. There was also a black gun just sitting within all of it, instantly making my stomach turn. The score of the water was coming from the bathroom, the broken wine bottles also added onto my theory.

I shut the door behind me, realizing he was no where in sight. I pulled my eyes away from the scene and looked at the closed bathroom across the room. The running water was coming from in there, I could see it slowly growing larger and rapidly from the door.

I ran over to the bathroom door in a state of panic, pausing in front of the door to prepare myself for whatever it was I was going to see on the other side of the door. Taking a deep breath, I whipped the door open, expecting to see something that I knew wouldn't be good.

And there he was.

He stood with his shirt off in the shower, the bathtub overflowing that was rapidly running water out to the rest of the hotel room. I was puzzled on how he managed to get both running at the same time. My heart physically stopped when I met eyes with him, he stood straight up under the shower head with a wet blunt hanging out of his mouth, it was barely holding on by his bottom lip, maybe not even lit for all I knew. His eyes were bloodshot and his under eyes were the hollowest dark brown I've ever seen. The rest of his face was ice pale, body shivering but he made no effort to move at all. His hair was sticking to his forehead, he looked like he was on the verge of death.

"Oh, Hobie.." I painfully shouted, running over on the slipper tile to his aid. I reached around his body to turn the bath off, draining the tub in the process. I knew it would take a couple minutes for that to be gone, so I turned my attention to the shower head to turn it away from him and to turn it off, but paused when he made a small noise like he wanted the water to be running on him.

"What are you doing?" I trembled in panic as his eyes could barely focus on my, eyes dark like the rest of his sockets.

"I just.. wanted to feel something." He slurred in intoxication, his head lolling back with a soft sigh, letting the water run down his throat and down his bare chest. I pulled his head back and to the side towards me, cupping his cheeks so we were making eye contact the best we could. I grabbed the wet blunt from his lips, tossing it in the toilet and not caring that he would be mad about it in the morning.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I tried to look into his eyes, but they looked like they were lost in another universe, glazed and red. His cheeks were pale of life like he was a dead man walking.

"I can't fucking do this anymore." He slurred a few words in sorrow, a small ping of pain grabbed at my chest as his voice sounded so lost and troubled. I've never heard something this complicated from his lips in the time I have known him, not even this desperate either.

I stared into his eyes, his face holding pure guilt and pain whenever we looked at each other. It was like whatever he was seeing in my eyes was making him feel guilty, sick to his core. His wet eyebrows were furrowed so he had the two crevices between them, his once brown eyes withheld a world of horror he wanted to escape.

"Hobie, what did you take?" I kept my hands under his jaw, holding his head up right with my left hand sliding down to hold onto his upper arm in case he decided to sit or fall.

He shut his eyes as he tried to tip his head to the side, but I kept a strong hold on it, refusing to let that happen. His eyes were lost in another place that I didn't know where to begin to search for, I've never experienced this first hand; only the aftermath.

"Hobie!" I screamed louder so he would focus on the sound of my voice. "Answer me, did you take anything?" My mind was going into a state of frenzy that he suddenly felt the need to be suicidal tonight.

"Xanax." He whispered so softly I almost didn't catch it, by the time the last syllable left his lips I felt his body weight shift to fall over; which caused me to almost stumble backwards and fall, but I grounded my feet in time and held him up.

"How much?" My stomach started to swirl in knots as I got him to sit on the shower floor now that the tub was drained, the only water was from the shower head that was hitting the back of my head and his whole body.

"I don't know." He whined out, clinging onto my arm with his eyes shutting.

"I'm taking you to the hospital or calling someone." I turned to find my phone to call Miles or Rico, this was too scary to do alone.

"No," He protested even in his lost state. "No hospital, no calling someone." He shook his head in assertion.

"Baby, you are overdosing." I argued back, the name slipping out in a state of panic. Both of my knees were pressed on the wet floor of the bathroom, ready to help him up out of the tub and to the bedroom.

"No!" He shouted again, but his voice was strained with tiredness. I was scared for him, I was feeling my stomach cave in from how sick I was becoming. "I'm just really high, a bad trip at the most." He looked up at me with his tired, lost eyes in the most beaten puppy look.

"You are going to get sick if you stay in this shower any longer." I murmur, the thought of him sitting here alone going through a bad trip or a breakdown hurt my heart. Sure, he is the worst person to walk this earth; but even I know that in times like this it's always best to have someone with you. He was refusing to go to the hospital, even refusing for me to call someone who might have an answer on how to help him in this situation.

I let go of him completely, and just like I thought he turned his body away from me to shuffle further under the shower head to let it directly hit him again. His eyes stayed on me though through the corner, his hair was stuck in different directions completely drenched. My heart was broken for this moment, his soul shining through for the first time, but it was nothing but pure guilt and hurt.

"I can't leave you like this." I whispered, placing my hand on his head to comb my fingers through the wet strands that covered his eyes. His cheek leaned into my touch, eyes now looking off behind me while I stayed kneeled in the water outside the tub.

"It's okay." He whispered back, voice shaky and broken.

This was not the same person I remembered seeing on the tour in the beginning, not the one at the party who laughed after I dumped a drink down someone's head and definitely not the same person who talked to a human trafficker and Spiderman. I was staring at a broken boy who drowned himself in bottles of wine and mixed it with a drug to ease the pain of what was going on in his head.

I stood up to my feet, making him shut his eyes and retreat back into a position with his knees to his chest and his face buried in them. I took off my slippers and socks so I was in my pajama bottoms and t-shirt. He noticed the sound of me stepping into the shower with him, drawing his eyes up to me again.

"What are youâ€"" He whispered before getting cut off by my hand raising to stop him from talking, shaking my head as I took my phone out from my pockets and tossing it on top of my slippers.

"If you won't come out, then I am going in." I step my remaining foot in before sliding down to sit in front for him, the shower head just barely missing me.

We looked at each other for a second, and a distance between us from the opposite side of the tub. His pants were hugging his long legs as they rested in the same position as before, just shoved to his chest.

I scooted closer to him, sliding closer across the shower floor before placing my hands on his knees to drop them down to relax before pushing him back against the wall, my legs now underneath me as I rested in between his legs. He looked unsure of what I was going to do, the water splashing from our bodies going under and out from the shower head. I helped him readjust his body so now the water was directly hitting the back of my body and just a bit on him.

I grabbed him once more to just move him slightly to the right and up straight. He stared at me as I continued to stay in between his legs, our heads not far apart from one another.

"What's up—"

I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, giving him a real hug. I didn't care if he was going to push me away or get annoyed I was doing this; I just knew he needed this more than anything.

He stopped talking and froze as I held him in a soft wet embrace, shutting my eyes and burying my face into the crook of his neck. My heart was beating rapidly as I kept my now drenched body around his cold body, holding onto him like I was about to lose him to the void.

His hands trembled down at my side before they wrapped around my hips, flushing me closer to his body as his grip on me tightened. I swear I felt him stop breathing for a split second, his head dropping to my shoulder as the small, shaky breaths returned. Each breath caused his arms to tighten on me before he pulled back slightly.

"What was that for?" He whispered, his hands still on my hips like he was scared to let me go he would slip away.

I reached my hand up to his hair to brush it back from his forehead again, chuckling dryly. "When I lost Ellie, I couldn't tell anyone about how she passed. I couldn't tell them I watched it happen, I was alone. In the darkest and scariest moments, I wish I had someone there to guide me back to the light and give me a hug." I whispered, my chest getting tight when I said those words deep in my heart.

His face lost its tension, relaxing a bit as he kept his dilated pupils on mine. His pale face was lost of any wistful color he once had, it was like this person was the real Hobie hiding behind the angry, poisonous Hobie the entire time. "Something is rotting inside of me and all I want to do is reach inside, and cut it out."

I looked between both of his eyes, perceiving the challenges behind them. His words hurt in a different way, because for once I could understand the pain he was enduring. It may be from a different reason, but I truly could see how he felt about himself. He actually believed there was nothing worthy inside of him, at least that's how I interpreted it.

I moved to lay in arms, my head resting on his chest as he readjusted his arms to have one around my mid frame and the other around my hip. "What's going on in your head.." I mumbled in question, my eyes slowly looking at the cuts and scars all over his chest and inner arms. I saw them when I measured him and gave him a shirt to wear under his leather vest, but this seemed so much more authentic and real up close; like I was seeing them for the first time ever.

He shuts his eyes and breathes steadily, the shower head not hitting the both of us as his touch was cold as ice, I imagined his shrivelled hands must've been from the water. "I don't know anymore."

I sighed once more to myself, tucking some of his hair behind his ear after I sat up, resting my forehead against his own. I didn't know how to help him, he was such a complicated person that all ways I would've helped someone were not ways I would want to use on Hobie, he was different. Hobie needed a different kind of approach, and maybe he just needed someone to listen to or just be around him during this fragile moment he was in. He didn't need to be fixed, he just needed to be comforted.

If he wasn't so intoxicated and out of it, I know he wouldn't be saying all of this and being vulnerable, he wouldn't let me comfort him or hold him, hug him. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but all I know is I had to be here for him right now.

Despite our differences, there was no way I could leave him like this. My heart truly ached for him in this state he was in. I just didn't want him to feel alone, I didn't want anyone to feel like this.

"C'mon." I pulled back after letting the silence take over us, getting up onto my knees to finally turn the shower off. "You'll freeze to death and get super sick if you stay in here any longer."

"I don't want to go to the hospital, I don't want to see Miles, I don't want to see anyone." He slurred with a please.

"I'm just taking you to your bed, that's all." I say back.

I tried lifting him again and this time he somehow managed to stand on his own two feet, pushing himself up with his hands. Once I had him up, I brought him back down to sit on the toilet seat before wrapping a towel around his shoulders before drying his wicks. I took each other individually and dried them off, squatting on my feet before saying nothing as we looked at one another. I knew Hobie took care of his hair, I smelt the oils he had one time when I was putting his hair up in a style. I rose to my feet and rummaged through his bags to find what I was looking for: As I Am, Jamaican Black Castor Oil Water. I took my time to put it in his roots, rubbing it in his scalp before grabbing a silk wrap to wrap his hair up, placing his batman bonnet back on his head.

"Walk with me." I whispered gently, taking his hands into my own.

I grip onto him and start walking backwards, his feet too lost to function properly because he was stepping all over the place. My arms were doing their best to guide him to his bed, but he was so far gone.

We get into the bedroom, the carpet soaked of water in the fibers. We stand in the center of the room next to his bed where I finally get him to look at me.

His eyes were shut and his chin was against his chest, but he was slowly breathing like every breath he took was painful for him. I held his upper arms to keep him balanced, looking up at him hunched over. I had to hold him up because he kept swaying back and forth so much to the point I thought he would topple over the moment I let go of him.

"I'm sorry you feel like you have to do this." He whispered finally, barely lifting his head up to look at me, his voice was so soft I could barely hear him.

I lifted his head up to look at me again, rather than resting on my shoulder. He held onto me soaking wet, his pants still dripping everywhere. His forehead dipped down to rest on mine, his hands shaking as they desperately grabbed onto my hips to hold me close to him. I wrapped my arms around his neck again, leaning my head back to stare at him with a soft smile. "You know me better than that, I don't have to do anything, I want to." I murmured as we stood in the middle of the room.

"I'm a bad person." He whispered into my hair, shutting his eyes again to take in my scent.

I was stuck on what to say, I could be honest or comforting; but knowing Hobie I know he would want me to be both. He doesn't want me to lie to him for sure. I can't pretend that I've forgotten all the things he's ever done just to try and ease his troubled thoughts. "You kind of are, but everyone deserves compassion no matter who they are." I whisper, my one hand moving to cup his cheek.

He lost his balance again but I managed to catch him, I placed him down on the chair so he wouldn't soak his bed sheets, turning around to try and find some sweats and boxers he could change into. "I gotta get you into dry clothes, okay?" I whisper, grabbing the waistband of his pants with a pair of sweats in my other hand.

The second I started to undo his belt, his slow reaction time suddenly turned quick because almost immediately he snapped his cold wet hands to my wrists.

"No!" He protested, making me let go of his pants again. He staggered forward before falling to his knees before giving me a look for me to turn.

"You are soaking wet." I turned around anyway, giving him the privacy he wanted.

"I'm..embarrassed." He shook his head again in a drunken manner, but I heard him shuffle before his belt was dropped to the floor and his pants were tossed literally in front of me on the other side of the room. Once he was done, I turned back around and a blanket had been draped over his body to completely cover him, the only thing I could see was his sunken eyes and his head popping through the small hole in the blanket he made.

I patted the bed for him to climb up and lay down, fluffing out the pillows and pulling back the comforter for him to get under, he slowly turned to me and started to crawl on all fours to crawl up, throwing himself to the pillow. He laid on his stomach, head turned to face me when I moved off the bed and down by his side. I tossed the blanket onto his back before placing my hand on his cheek again, caressing it softly. "You'll be alright, okay?" I whisper, feeling how cold he still was.v

He shut his eyes and stayed silent, his face looking relaxed. I know I wasn't a miracle worker, but getting him to feel relax and safe enough to fall asleep right away as a fraction better than how I found him originally. He looked content when he slept, I think it was fine to leave him here where while I cleaned up the room just a bit more. The bathroom was drenched in water and the floor in the room was soaked, but nothing a couple towels from my bathroom and his couldn't handle.

The second I turned away, I felt a weak grip clamp down on my wrist. I paused in my steps, turning my head back to peer down at Hobie on the bed. His eyes were open again as he stared up at me with a blank look, but I knew he thought I was leaving him.

"I'm just going to clean up a bit, I'll still be here." I mumbled in clarity.

He stared up at me with his tired eyes and shook his head very slowly. I lowered my eyes and softly chuckled before motioning for him to scoot over. He lifted the comforter up for me to slip under, pulling me against his chest before I stopped him. I sat up against the headboard and directed his head to lay on my chest, my arms wrapping around him now as he slipped an arm behind me and across my lap to hold me from my hips. His one leg pushed in between my two, his arms stayed draped around me.

So there we laid, my fingers running up and down his back carefully to not touch his scars that caused him to flinch softly if I touched one on accident. I never in a million years thought I'd be here. I didn't know what his outbursts meant, but I didn't want to think about that right now. I watched someone go through a dark period of time and now just needed someone to listen to him, to be there for him.

"I know none of this will make sense to you," he spoke up in a hum over silent with his eyes still shut. You could hear and tell how drunk and high he was. "But I tried to save her, I tried everything. I tried to save them. But it wasn't enough. I'm not enough, I'm scared."

Save who?

"Of what?" I whispered back, my eyebrows furrowed in what he confessed.

"I don't want people to see me the way I see myself." He slurred in his state.

His words were not meant to be said out loud, I know because I often said things to myself that I shouldn't say out loud because they are dark and sad, but due to his intoxicated state of mind right now I doubt he cared. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that.." He suddenly said, regret in his voice.

"It's okay," I continued to rub his back. "I'm good at keeping secrets, remember?" I teased.

He nods to himself and relaxes in my arms again, letting me rub his back as I stared at the wall in front of us. He looked more at peace now, I just wanted him to sleep some of this off.

I never thought out of all the troubled souls on earth, he would be one of them. He held himself to a high standard, always knowing what to say, what to do, he was hardheaded and the only person in the world that I know who could take on what he does; but maybe I should have known that was weighing on him. Now with him saying he tried to save whoever it was, the guilt was eating him away and I wish I could take away whatever it was he was feeling and fix it. We all hold secrets behind closed doors of who we are, different masks for different people and different places. Some of us could actually have four different masks they wear depending on who they are around.

I just never expected to see this behind this closed door.