It's been a bit hard getting stuff done and getting it uploaded due to family medical emergencies but these two were definitely a nice break from reality for a little bit <3
I did reference for this one with this-- I can't find the original artist to it
Summary:
Trevor always had reckless ways of spending his cash from scores and successful robberies. However, with the absence of his most beloved criminal partner, it had led to an overdose and angsty regrets. He woke up alone and shaking with denial of what he’s turned into.
Set:
North Yankton (pre-2004)
TW:
-Mention of drugs/usage/overdose
-Angst
Word count:
981
He twitched awake, his eyes fluttering irregularly as he adjusted to the bright lights of his motel room.
“Fuck…”
A monster headache formed momentarily after his awakening. Trevor lied there, memories flawed and faint. He couldn’t remember the day before, let alone the week before. What day is it? Where even is he? He wanted to move but his body was stiff and aching. Whatever happened, it took no justice to his muscles afterwards.
“Michael?” His voice sounded tender and swollen, “Mikey, bro? Eh – “ He twitched again, the jerking sensation bringing him great pain.
There was no response as he continued lying on the mattress. There wasn’t even a bed frame. He found this unusual; he remembered his motel room having one a few days back. Why is he just lying on the floor? Is this even his motel room? Trevor had to at least attempt to lift his head up if he wanted to see his environment, earning a verbal grunt.
“Fuckin’ fuck.” He winced before leaning against his shoulders and panted. That was effort; too much effort, and for a simple task. His head was throbbing greatly, a great purging burden to his awareness. Thanks to the pain, he lacked great intelligence to identify what happened and where he is.
Trevor simply fell back onto the mattress to rest until he was ready to face the consequences of whatever night he had. However, the moment his head reintroduced itself with the pillow – it was damp and moist; a squelch to be exact, a squelch of the fabrics between both the pillow and the mattress. His mullet grew damp and it disgusted the man.
“What the fuck is that?” He rotated to his left and tried to examine this weird wetness that he couldn’t recognise beforehand.
He was briefly met with this splurge of goo and ugly amounts of brownish liquid, the remaining goop only just drying into the mattress while the edges were already stained. God, the smell was beginning to purify his nose, and not in a nice way. It smelt wicked and foul. Trevor was no stranger to faeces but the untainted depth to this pool of… Vomit and human remains was enough to send him in a 2 minute coma.
“The fuck – The fuck is THAT!”
There was no doubt he slept in that pile of muck. He pinched his nose and inhaled sharply, not daring to look at it. He didn’t want to believe that he had carelessly fallen asleep with the mattress and pillow riddled with infectious human faeces. Trevor was shaking with dismay and nausea. With the occurring adrenaline, he crawled away from the lonely bed and found himself cradled on the floor, gasping for some fresh air.
“Wahh – “ Whimpered his fragile frame. He gulped, eyes scanning the trashed room with walls graffitied and abused with holes. He suddenly didn’t feel safe. Trevor hugged his legs and cried for someone, or something.
“Helloooo? Michael, Mikey! Brad – Brad? Brad, bro… Brad! FUCKIN’ BRADLEY, YOU PIECE OF TURD – “ Every time he looked in the direction of the repulsive mess, he wailed.
The way his mullet stuck to his neck with the grease of that unfamiliar vomit had increasingly caused more stimulation for him to explode. He had a strong feeling, from the intangible descent of distasteful relish and flavour from his dry tongue, that the faeces had come from him. Trevor was very familiar with his own vomit, and the colour; the smell, the overall odium was very comparable.
But how was it this bad?
“What… The fuck happened?” Trevor sounded extremely vulnerable and emotional. He wiped some crusty ooze from the corner of his mouth and studied it. His eyes numb and mouth senselessly open.
While he was considering troubling thoughts, the door abruptly opened. The shadow of a tall, stocky man frightened Trevor into cowering away. The phantom paused before showing itself.
“Trevor… What the fuck is this?” Michael whispered in disturbance. His blue eyes were wide, inspecting the walls and soon found himself staring at the bare mattress penetrated with this filth and scum.
“Mikey, Michael! Baby! Fuck!”
Using his weak and naked feet, Trevor stumbled forward and reached for his friend. His face was shell-shocked and horrified to the extent of weirding Michael out. He had never seen Trevor like this, never in his life. He was hesitant to hold the broken man but slowly extended his arms, embracing his quivering figure.
Mikey noticed how skinny and prominent his spine and ribs were. He hadn’t of seen Trevor in some weeks after the last job. However, he went off the radar, his small flip-phone losing contact with Lester’s equipment. The guys, including Bradley, grew worried that Trevor would end up being arrested and presumably blowing their cover. It had led to searching many strip-clubs, motels ran by prostitutes, abandoned shacks, and lastly; Trap-houses.
And here he was.
“W-Where the fuck am I?” Trevor cried softly.
“Shhh… It’s okay, bud. C’mon… Let’s go.” Michael cringed. Being so focussed on his new family, he forgot to supervise his crime-buddy with the loaded cash. He’d feel guilty, but at the same time… He felt nothing. He couldn’t forget the way he said “baby”… It weirded him out… They’ve been separated, unhappily, for months; almost a year. But it still made him feel included and personal.
Mike was gently dragging him out of the appalling trap-house and towards his car, thankful he wasn’t dead from the overdose of whatever drug he was given.
“You partied too hard, huh?”
Trevor sulked in the passengers seat as his partner was stretched over, strapping his frail body into the vehicle. He tried to give a reason for his horrendous accident and found no answer, nor cure. His sunken eyes dazed out of the window – the car finally hitting the road and away from his abomination.
