After breakfast, Layne followed Nicky around like a sad lost puppy. She seemed to be the only person that was somewhat sane in this psych / rehab unit. Yeah, she had an eating disorder & drug addiction, but Layne could at least relate to her. The other patients in there either kept bothering him to get an autograph (followed by PCA's telling them that Layne was there to recover from his addictions, not to entertain fans) or they were like Alex...creepy & weird in the baddest way. Of course, Alex followed around with Layne & Nicky. The man knew that no one on the unit enjoyed his presence, but that didn't seem to phase him. Layne was beginning to believe the freak just didn't want to be alone.
Nicky turned to Layne, wincing and pointing at a room to the left of the "lounging area" of the psych ward / rehab unit. "This is where we have to go next... It's group therapy."
"From your tone of voice, I'm guessing it's loads of fun," Layne said sarcastically with a smirk. His eyes were glassy and turning red. Head was fogging over & his thoughts were finally slowing... His emotions were simple again: all he could feel was either pleasure or anger. None of those obnoxious feelings inbetween. He grinned wider, but made sure to keep his nasty teeth covered. He didn't want Nicky to see how bad his addiction had deteriorated his appearance...
"Oh, you'll LOVE IT, Layne!" A PCA shouted at him, patting him hardly on the back. It made his stick-like body almost tumble over. The PCA laughed & grabbed ahold of Layne's shoulders, getting him to stand straight again. "Sorry about that, sometimes I forget my own strength..."
Layne smirked. "I'll remember not to FUCK with you then, k, ummm..." he frowned & scratched his head. "What's your name...?"
The PCA smiled, his huge muscular arms crossing over his giant pecks. "Just call me John." His smile faltered to a smirk, eyes slanting around the area at other patients. "I would say I'm pretty famous around here, but I think you take the cake."
Layne rolled his eyes & turned to look at Alex. He could tell the psycho was about to say something stupid.
"More like INfamous," Alex barked, laughing his stupid loose chuckle.
John gave him a tired look. "You don't even like Alice in Chains...? Then who DO you like?"
He smirked with his brows raised. Layne glared at him, just as curious as John was. "Well, I love Pantera--"
"Toured with them," Layne interrupted, smiling. "Phil's a fun guy. Actually could keep up with me when we went to my own bus and shot up together." He winked at the PCA, him shaking his head.
"I didn't know the lead singer of Pantera did heroin," John said, his tone chirped with amusement.
Layne laughed, nodding his head. "Oh fuck yeah he did. Along with other things, of course...."
"ANYWAYS," Alex spat. He shot Layne a dirty look. Layne shrugged at him & tried his best to not burst out in laughter. Alex then turned to Nicky, who just stood there, glaring at him like he was some derranged martian. "I also love Tool--"
"Jammed with them as well," Layne interrupted, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "They had a HUGE thing about acid dude, they were fucking crazy."
Alex glared at him with clenched fists. Layne just laughed, shaking his head at him. "What the fuck dude."
Layne shrugged. "We might've had to cancel a lot of tours. Doesn't mean we never toured with other bands... I mean, it comes with the whole MUSICIAN thing..."
"You just think you're such a bad ass," Alex grumbled. He took a look back over at Nicky. She just smiled up at Layne, making him burn with even more envy.
"I know I'm not a bad ass," Layne laughed, "I've just played with a lot of OTHER good bands is all."
"Other good bands," Alex snorted, "good one--"
"GROUP TIME!" An old, skinny woman from the PCA station shouted. "Come on, guys, no excuses this time!"
Alex raised a brow at Layne. Layne rolled his eyes, "if you quote another one of our songs, I don't care how much bigger you are than me, I WILL beat the shit out of you."
Alex snorted as he followed them into the group room. "Is that a challenge?" He whispered, taking a seat next to Layne.
Layne turned to Nicky. She was shaking violently, her stick arms wrapped tight around her shoulders & hair covering her face.
"Hey," he muttered over to her, leaning closer. Her head swiveled over to him, one of those turquoise eyes peeking through the thin locks of her black & dark red hair. "Are you okay?"
She curled up in her chair, "I'm freezing."
Layne sighed. His eyes landed down at the monstrous gap between her thighs. She needs to fucking EAT, he thought to himself. He wrapped one of his arms around her, shocked to see her trembling body curl up closer to him. He searched around the room, noticing that skinny old woman staring at him.
"Do you have a sweater or blanket or something?" He asked the woman. He tilted his head down to Nicky. "She's...really cold..."
"I'm anemic," Nicky muttered aloud. She shifted even closer to Layne to rest her head against his chest. "You're so warm..."
Layne smirked, holding her tighter.
"Here," the old woman interrupted the moment, a thin white cloth-like blanket in her hand. "This should help," she said, watching Layne as he wrapped the blanket around Nicky. "This should help as well," she continued, nudging Layne who had his arms still around the anorexic. He looked up at her, noticing there was a yogurt & a plastic spoon in her hand. He took it & gestured it to Nicky.
She shook her head, her eyes shut tight. "No way in hell," her meek voice muffled from behind the blanket. She scooted even closer to Layne, wrapping her arms around him.
He sighed, still holding the yogurt in her face. "You need to eat," he whispered, eyes filled with concern. "Please eat..."
"Original strawberry yoplait yogurt...150 calories...2 grams of fat...1 gram SATURATED fat...it's a dairy product," she shuddered. "No. No way in hell."
He sighed, still pushing the yogurt closer to her. "Nicky, you're nothing but a pile of fucking BONES..." He peeled off the lid & took a bite. "I'll eat half, you'll eat the other half, how about that?"
She cuddled closer to him, her head now resting on his concave stomach. "How about you eat two thirds...then it'll just be 50..."
Layne smiled. "As long as you eat," he whispered to her, running his hand through her hair. His eyes widened when he noticed he had accidentally pulled a chunk of hair out of her head. "Your hair--"
"I know," she muttered. "Happens every time I get lower than 90."
His heart sank as he turned to glance over at Alex. He shrugged at Layne, sharing the same concerned expression. "I've been trying to tell her this past month that she's a stick, she doesn't listen."
"Shut the fuck up Alex," Nicky muttered. Her eyes were fixated on Layne, whom was slowly eating the yogurt.
"I've just been worried about you, EXCUSE me," Alex whined. He yanked the hood of his sweater over his head and kept his gaze at the door to the group room, watching the other crazies and / or addicts walking into the room.
Layne handed her the yogurt cup when he was finished with his portion. His brows furrowed when she shook her head and handed it back to him. "Two more bites, then it'll be one third," she muttered.
His eyes widened, glaring at her huge eyes that reflected fear. He felt bad for her, so he took two quick bites & handed it back to her. She sat up & stared at the yogurt. Not too much sooner, her eyes started watering.
"Come on," Layne whispered to her. He stuck the spoon into her yogurt cup. "It's just 50 calories...you could burn that off by just fucking BREATHING..."
She sighed anxiously, tugging the blanket over her head and hunching over so no one could see her. Layne could tell this was hard for her, so he focused his attention at the people walking in. Only one left, who had to take a seat on the floor. The room was packed. It smelled of body odor & saltine crackers, which made Layne grimace.
No wonder Nicky must be having a hard time eating in this place. Doesn't anyone bathe here? He thought to himself, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He looked over at the dry eraser board, where the old skinny woman stood. Eyes dropped to her name tag.
Name: Allison Wood
Occupation: Social Worker
He grumbled & scratched an itch at his shoulder. "I need a fucking cigarette," Layne grumbled.
"Me too," Nicky answered quietly.
He turned to her, shocked to see she was still eating the tiny amount of yogurt he had left for her. He didn't say anything though, in fear that it would make her anxious and she wouldn't finish. He looked back at the therapist, whom was peering around at everyone in the room. She grabbed a dry eraser marker, writing out "dual diagnoses" on the board. Turning back to everyone, she placed a hand on her bony hip.
"Could anyone here explain to me what a 'dual diagnoses' is?" The therapist asked in a stern voice. She nodded to the chubby blonde girl who had her hand up.
"It's when you are diagnosed with two mental illnesses, right? That feed into one another?" Her mousy voice asked meekly.
Mrs. Wood nodded, smirking at her. "That's right," she approved. She started to pace around infront of the dry eraser board.
"Oh my god, why do they always do informative crap like this in rehab?" Layne whispered into Alex's ear, his eye still on Nicky, who had FINALLY finished the yogurt.
Alex shrugged. "I guess these 'doctors' assume that us crazy addicts are retarded."
Layne laughed loudly, quickly covering his mouth. His eyes shot wide when he caught Mrs. Wood staring daggers right at him.
"What's so funny, LAYNE STALEY?" She barked, her arms crossed against her chest sternly.
Before Layne could answer, Alex piped up, a sloppy grin on his stoned face. "I was just telling him how you 'professionals' assume that us 'crazy drug addicts' suffer a terrible form of Down syndrome."
She rolled her eyes & pointed at the door. "I think we could all agree that we're tired of your PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE behavior, Alex. Go to the seclusion room," she ordered.
Alex laughed & shook his head. "I'm not harming anyone. Plus I REALLY WANT TO LEARN, Woody. My tiny brain needs informationismsssss."
Layne snorted a chuckle, quickly covering his mouth.
"Fine. We'll deal with you," the therapist grumbled. She grinned deviously. "Let's start with you, Alex. What's your dual diagnosis?"
Alex paused, watching Nicky with worry as she wobbled weakly across the room to the trash bin. When she turned to go back to her seat, she stumbled onto the floor. Layne jolted from his chair & ran over to her. He held his hand out & helped her get back up, wrapping his arm around her back. He had a sad look gleaming in those blue eyes as he felt her vertabrae & ribs jutting sharply into the flesh of his long skinny bicep. He sat her down in her seat & plopped down next to her, holding her again & closing his eyes as her head dropped back down into the crook of his rib cage.
"Apparently I'm diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder and chemical dependency," Alex growled, watching with jealously at the way Layne & Nicky were cuddling next to him.
Mrs. Wood's brows raised. "Could you explain to us what anti social personality disorder is?"
Alex grinned & puckered his lips at her obnoxiously. "I forgoooot, Woody, I'm I'm a weee-tarrrrd."
She rolled her eyes. "Anti social personality disorder is a CHRONIC mental disease that usually goes undiagnosed. The vast majority of sufferers are male. Most of them are WEALTHY business men, either that or criminals," she gave Alex a pointed look. "Tell us what the disease USED to be called in the DSM, Alex?"
He groaned, crossing his arms over his belly. "I'm a sociopath, OKAAAY?! Are you happy now, Woody?"
Layne shot a scared look at him. "Wait, what...?"
Alex grinned, looking amused. "I know, it's like I'm related to Charles Manson. Ain't that bad ass?"
Layne's eyes widened. "No..." he scooted closer to Nicky. "Don't kill me..."
Alex rolled his eyes. "We're not all SERIAL KILLERS, geeze."
Mrs. Wood nodded her head. "A lot of sociopaths go undiagnosed because they believe they don't have a problem. Plus they're HIGHLY manipulative... Many psychologists compare those with antisocial personality disorders with Halloween masks."
"Yep, I have my Jason mask on right now," Alex murmured, giggling. He winked at the therapist. "Did my participation make you happy, misssss?"
She gave him a tired look. "Yes, Alex..."
"Mmmm," he grumbled, thrusting his hips. "That gives me a Woody, Miss Woody..."
Layne turned beat red, trying his best not to laugh. When Nicky giggled, he couldn't help but to laugh anyways.
"Alright, seriously Alex, if you start this AGAIN, I'm calling security," the therapist growled.
"I can't help it that I think you're sexy--"
"LAYNE," she interrupted, ignoring everyone's laughter. She sighed, sweat rolling down her wrinkles. "Do you have a dual diagnosis?"
"I have ANXIETY that they refuse to treat in here," Layne blurted loudly.
Alex laughed, patting Layne on the shoulder. "You're shaking dude... Is that little GIRL next to you giving you ANXIETY?"
Layne's face dropped. "Shut up, dude," he muttered to Alex. He looked back up at the therapist, whom was rolling her eyes at him. He sighed. "I'm just diagnosed with chemical dependency..."
"Figured as much," she said snidely. What a bitch... She glared at Nicky, who was still shaking, her arm wrapped tightly around Layne.
"Chemical...dependency...and...anorexia. Binge purge.......subtype," she muttered between her tremors.
"What the heck is a binge purge 'subtype'?" Layne blurted. He looked nervously back at the therapist. She nodded at Nicky, mildly amused.
The skeleton girl sighed, burying her face further into Layne's stomach. "I starve myself," she started, her weak voice muffled. "And then when I lack willpower I eat all day and force myself to vomit..."
Layne's brow wrinkled in fear, rubbing her back. "You need to stop that shit," he muttered. "You're thin enough... Jesus...smallest girl I've ever seen..."
"She will never stop, Layne, don't even try to talk some sense into that bird brain," Alex bellowed, laughing again.
Layne shot him a look of disgust. "Maybe she hasn't stopped because people like you just carelessly assume she's too STUPID to--"
"Alright, I've had enough of this," Mrs. Wood interrupted, pointing her finger back to the door. "All three of you. Leave. NOW."
They all got up, Layne basically carrying Nicky out the door. Alex pinched his nipple and flicked his tongue at Mrs. Wood, puckering his lips. "See you after the session, my sexyyyy..."
She narrowed his eyes at him. "Next time, I'm seriously calling security."
Alex bursted out in laughter, pushing the door open. "Ooooo I'll call security! SECUUUUURITYYY!" he squeeled.
*******
Layne waltzed back into her room, a bottle of orange juice in one hand & a packet of graham crackers in the other. He sat next to her, glaring down at her with pity. She sneered at the food & slowly sat up on her bed, nodding to the door. "Could you close that...?" she asked.
He nodded. He peeked out the doorway of her room, looking around the lounging area to see the PCA's were too busy answering phone calls, either that or calming down fiending drug addicts. He slowly shut the door. When he turned back to Nicky, he gasped, dropping the juice & crackers.
All she had on was her underwear. She was shivering, looking around in her wardrobe next to her bed. Literally all of her bones pleaded out from her ghostly white skin. Bruises were all over her legs, most likely from anemia.
"Quit checking me out, pervert," Nicky muttered as she turned to him. She had a huge black sweater in her hands. She tugged it over her head, her body beginning to limp backwards. Layne ran over to her, grabbing her before she fell. He studied those tired eyes, his own reflecting fear.
"How long has it been since you've ate anything, Nicky?" He asked, carrying her back over to her bed and setting her down on it.
She closed her eyes & rested her hand on one side of her rib cage. "...haven't really ate since I've been here, unless you consider forced tube feedings & drinking ensure eating..."
He sighed, glaring at her scalp. It had a few bald spots. She's too young to be going bald... "I don't understand how a beautiful woman like you could do this to yourself."
She glared at his arm. Quickly before he could pull away, she grabbed it, tracing the ugly track marks that matted the skin. "Why did you allow your addiction to get so bad to the point where you're arms look like a train wreck & you barely have enough teeth to EAT yourself?" She watched Layne as his head dropped & his face burnt red. "Yeah, I can tell you're missing teeth... Your obvious attempts at trying to hide them gave it all away."
"I plan on getting dentures when I get out," he muttered, licking his lips. His blue haze turned back to the bottle of juice & package of crackers on the floor. He got himself up, picking up the food and turning back to her.
"Stop worrying about me," she spat, slowly getting up from her bed to pick up her pants. Suddenly she collapsed back on her bed, breathing loudly. She laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Got dizzy for a moment there."
Layne rolled his eyes, grabbing her hand to place the bottle of juice into her palm. "At least drink that. You probably have low blood sugar..."
She slowly sat up, unscrewing the lid, sipping the juice. She watched him as he picked up her pants, eyes wide when he saw her size. 00. She smirked. "Seriously don't understand why you care so much... You don't even know me..."
He handed her her pants, taking the bottle of juice from her and taking a seat on the chair near her window. She didn't even have to unbutton the jeans, she just simply slid them on. They were baggy on her.
"I just care, okay? Plus you seem to be the only person here that isn't completely insane..." Layne grumbled, nervously tapping his nails on the bottle of her juice.
She just sat there, staring at him, as if she was trying to figure out what his motives were. He grunted as he got back up to hand her the orange juice. She slurped on it, watching him as he fumbled with the crackers, opening the package.
"I'm not eating that shit," she barked defensively at him. He bit into one of the graham crackers, wincing. She frowned, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Teeth hurt?"
He set the package of crackers down on her nightstand, bending over her trash bin to spit out the cracker in his mouth. He blushed and nodded at her, sitting back down. "I don't know why I allowed myself to get so bad," he whispered with tears in his eyes.
Her turquoise eyes were planted on the crackers, taking another sip of her juice. "We all think that about ourselves, Layne..." she soothed, leaning against her headboard. She studied the shame painted on his face. He kept his eyes on his hands, his bony fingers picking at the skin of his thumbs. "If it makes you feel any better, I still think you're attractive..."
He scratched the tip of his nose, eyes sliding back to her. "...you're just saying that..."
"Yeah, because I'm the type that wants to please everyone, right?" She asked him sarcastically, soft laughter wheezing from her chest.
Layne smirked, crossing his arms and pulling them under his rib cage. He suddenly jumped when he heard the door creak open. "Nicole, you KNOW FOR A FACT that you have to keep your door open, ESPECIALLY when a male patient is in here."
"It's Nicky, for the millionth time!" She spat back at John, the PCA. "When's smoke break?!"
"If you can WALK, it's in the next five minutes," John barked, eyes now on Layne. "How many times has she passed out today?"
Layne paused, looking over at Nicky, who was giving him a pleading look. He looked back up at John, "she only passed out once during group, but we got her to eat...she'll be okay."
"About damn time the girl EATS," John grumbled, turning around and walking back to the PCA station. There was a crowd of crazies & addicts huddled around the station, watching John with impatience as he went back into the station.
Layne reached out his hand to Nicky, smiling softly at her. "Come on, I know you want a smoke."
She nodded & allowed him to help her up. She limped with him over to the PCA station, grabbing ahold of the counter once as they got there. A female PCA from behind a computer monitor glared up at Layne. "Layne Staley?" She blurted out, fidgeting with her reading glasses.
"Yeah?"
"Your friend...ummm..." she glanced down at her notebook, "Mike Starr?"
"Yeah, that's my friend," he answered, laughing loosely. "Did he finally drop off my damn clothes?"
She nodded. "He also wants to see you."
Layne glanced over at John, whom was getting out the plastic tub of cigarettes. "Anyway I could visit with him after smoke break?"
She nodded, smiling at him.