(For @kayliem122 ! I'm so so so sorry this took forever. This is only one of the plots you gave me but I'll be sure to start on the other after this as well. I have many requests so they may take a bit of time but I promise they'll be out asap! Thanks so much for the wait, I really appreciate it. Enjoy :))
||Sam's POV||
"I can't believe you Scott!" I yelled at him from behind the kitchen counter as he sat dazed at the dinner table. Once again, he was high and once again, I had to tell our son to go to his room. He was only five and had no idea what was going on but he seemed like he was beginning to understand why 'Loopy Daddy' wasn't such a good thing.
"We have a kid up there! Do you want him to see you like that?"
He didn't answer and just stared straight at the glass of water I'd set in front of him to help him try and sober up from whatever he was on.
When I first met Scott and everything was simpler and the world seemed to revolve around us, we did every drug possible under the sun. And it was fun then. We had no worries then. Now was different. I was clean, I didn't drink. I wanted our kid to grow up with the best life possible. But Scott never stopped. When we first had our son, Noah, he tried to stop. He went to rehab, he tried. Now, he didn't. I don't know what had changed in his mind from then to now but he stopped trying.
I used to be his everything, the one he'd talk to, but I wasn't anymore. I had to call Eric and the rest of the band just to try and get caught up on everything that was going on in his life. He wouldn't talk to me anymore. Inside, I blamed myself even though I knew it wasn't me. It was the drugs and I knew whatever he was taking now would be the death of him, one way or another.
I sighed, wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes. "I love you Scott and I don't know when you stopped loving me or why, but I just want to let you know one thing. As long as your in this house, you will not expose Noah to this shit. That's all I want you to promise me. And if you can't..."
He looked over at me with a confused look on his face. At least I knew he was listening. "And if I can't, what?"
"If you can't, Noah and I are going to stay at my parent's house until you get straightened up," I whispered, not wanting it to come to that but I felt like it would. I would never tell my parents why because they'd say "I told ya so" and all that shit. I'd just have to make something up.
"You can't take my kid away from me!" he seethed, standing up in his chair and turning to me. I knew he'd never get violent with me but god, he scared me when he was on the shit sometimes.
"I don't want to Scott.. so don't make me. If you don't stop one day, something bad's going to happen and I may not be there to pick the your pieces again. You need to get clean or else Noah and I are leaving," I told him, standing up straight and trying to be stern with him but the way my voice quivered and shook in fear of what could happen stopped me from seeming tough.
He narrowed his eyes at me and stomped off to his office, which was actually a music room. He stayed in there the nights we fought. He was too stubborn to be in the same room as me if he was mad.
I didn't see him for the rest of the night. I guessed that he just went in there and fell asleep but when I woke up to my son shaking me in the morning, I knew something was wrong.
"What's up buddy?" I yawned, sitting up in bed.
"Can you tell daddy to get up and play with me? I kept trying to wake him up but he won't get up!" he pouted, making my heart skip a beat and my breathing hitch.
I quickly jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs to see the office door half open and Scott slumped against the couch, unresponsive. I ran over to him and shook him, trying to get him to wake up but he wouldn't. I couldn't breathe. I felt like the my world was falling apart. I looked over on the desk to see a bottle of Jack Daniels with only about a quarter left and a pill bottle tipped over and spilled.
Noah was right behind me and I didn't want him to see what was about to happen so I put on the calmest look I could and turned to him.
"Noah, can you go next door to the Gelson's and tell them that I sent you over there because I have to take Daddy somewhere?"
"Where?"
"Noah, go!" I snapped without meaning to. He ran out of the house as soon as 911 picked up the phone. I kept trying to wake him up and I wasn't sure how long he'd been like this but I was scared and hyperventilating and panicking. He needed to be okay.
"Scott, Scott! Wake up! Wake the fuck up Scott! If you die on me, I swear to God!" I cried into his shirt as I tried to get him conscious. I cried when the paramedics got there and I cried in the back of the ambulance and I cried in the waiting room. That's all I felt like I could do. I felt helpless and at fault. I knew shouldn't have yelled at him. I knew shouldn't have threatened to leave. I had the overwhelming feeling in me that I killed him.
I couldn't even bare to think about what would happen if he didn't survive. I didn't know what to do. It was my fault.
I held my head in my hands until I heard one of the nurses called the name Weiland.
My head shot up as I looked at her face.
"Your husband is going to be alright. He overdosed on a prescription medication called Prozac. It's an antidepressant, are you aware that he was taking these?"
"I was not," I murmured, not being able to look at her face. Antidepressant. He never told me these things. He never told me anything anymore.
"Alright well, his stomach had to be pumped to insure that everything was out of his system. He's on some pain medication but he is awake. Would you like to see him now?" she asked sweetly, before I nodded and was lead to what seemed to be the other side of the hospital wing.
She left me at the door as I peaked in to see him staring at the window to the right of him. He didn't see me there until I came in a sat down in the seat next to him.
"Scott?" I said, my voice breaking at the end, making it harder and harder to seem strong. But I was aloud to cry now and that's what I did. I cried and cried until I gasped for air and I felt a hand come down on top of mine holding it.
I looked up at him, who was blurry in my eyes, but I could tell I wasn't the only one.
"Are you gonna take him away from me now?" he whimpered, making me sob louder and shake my head. I couldn't. I needed him. Noah needed him. I threatened him with something I could never do and he believed it.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
I continued to cry for a while as he held my hand and squeezed it in reassurance. We talked about getting in clean and sober and we talked about talking to each other. We were going to get therapy and I thought it would be good for us. It was Scott's idea.
He was going to be okay for a while. He just going to get threw this time.
(Okay, I think this is alright. I'm a little rusty since I kinda stopped writing these for a while but tell me what you think! I miss Scott so much you guys.. I can't believe it's already been a year.. Thank you all for reading and I'll talk to ya soon :))
