"Is your friend alright mate? He looked ghastly!" A passerby questioned as John took off towards the airport bathroom. He'd been "detoxing" off his pills for three days now, and the withdrawal wasn't treating him the best.
"Yeah, just a bit of a stomach bug I think." I nodded with a small chuckle. "Thanks anyway though." I smiled at the man. He smiled back, quickly saying goodbye as he walked off into the sea of people going to board their planes. We'd finally got the chance to head to the US today after waiting a few days for John to settle before flying. He was doing better, but it seems the smell of the food court at the airport was his undoing. I quickly made my way to the bathrooms, hoping John made it to a stall before he threw his guts up.
"John?" I called softly, wandering along the row of stalls, searching for him. I heard a groan in response, and had to hold back a laugh as I made my way to the very end door. "Deaks?" I quizzed, knocking quietly.
"Fuck off!" He muttered back, followed by another groan as I heard him be sick once again. Withdrawal was a bitch. It's like you're starving yourself of whatever you were addicted to, and your body doesn't like it. It wants it, the drugs, the alcohol, whatever it is. It CRAVES it! But you can't give in to your body, or your brain. You need to let it go in order to get better. I coached my Mum through withdrawing from alcoholism back when I was a teenager, so I'm going to try and help John too. I wasn't an expert, but I knew majority of the major things he should be doing to kickstart his recovery.
"Gee, thanks." I chuckled, hearing him unlock the door. "No, "thanks Roger for helping me with this" or "thanks Rog for helping me get up and dressed this morning"!" I joked, pushing the stall open. "You're welcome Deaky!" I smirked, earning both a glare and the middle finger as he settled on the floor.
"Again, fuck off." He sighed, rubbing his face tiredly.
"Here. Drink this, and chew that." I ordered, handing him a bottle of water and a stick of gum.
"Thanks Rog." He smiled slightly before quickly gulping down the water.
"It's what I'm here for." I smiled back, helping to pull him off the dirty toilet floor. He quickly flushed the loo before following me out of the stall. "You're doing good." I added, patting his back as he leant again the sinks.
"I feel like fucking death." He grumbled, splashing some water on his face. He looked like it too. His face was very sunken in, he'd lost weight too from barely eating over the time he was high, and his normally friendly smile was replaced with an angry "don't fuck with me" scowl.
"If you didn't, I'd be worried." I chuckled again, watching as he laughed a little too. I was proud of him. It was early days, but he seemed to be taking detoxing seriously. I was hoping he would. I knew his heart was broken from what he did to Freddie, I could see it every time I accidentally mentioned his name. I was hopeful that even if he didn't want to get better for himself, that he'd get better for Fred.
"Thank you Roger." He said seriously, turning around to face me. "Seriously. I'm so grateful for you helping me. I don't know why you bothered honestly. After what I did, I would never have spoken to me again." He added quietly, fiddling with his hands.
"You don't have to thank me John." I replied, serious myself. "I'm going to do whatever I can to help you beat this." I smiled softly, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. "You're going to beat this." I reassured.
"I'm, I'm going to try." He nodded, looking up to smile back at me. Without another word, I pulled him in for a hug, his arms wrapping around me tightly as he buried his face in my neck. Hugging him reminded me of hugging Brian, and how we were going to be reunited soon enough. I was so excited! Leaving him for three days killed me, but John could hardly leave his bed by the end of his first day off his pills, so we had to wait to meet up with him and Fred.