Work Text:
Miles knew that something was wrong the moment he answered the phone.
"Bloody hell, Al, it's about time you got back to me. I texted you four hours ago! Where have you been?"
Alex moaned and mumbled something about 'needing to clear me 'ead for a bit.' His words were especially slurred and sluggish, which, considering his usual thick accent, was alarming.
"Al," Miles said again, taking a deep breath to calm down. "Answer me. Where have you b - no, forget that, I don't care where you've been, as much as where you are now. Well?"
Miles waited, but Alex didn't speak. He panted, as if he had been running a long distance. Then, his breathing slowed down until it seemed to stop altogether.
"Alex! Hold on, mate, I'm coming!" Miles pulled open the front door of his flat and in his hurry he stumbled over a prostrate form lying on his doormat.
The figure flinched and moaned pitifully, struggling to sit up until Miles knelt down, wrapped his arms around him and held him against his chest.
"Good grief, Al, you're an idiot. If I weren't so relieved to see you alive and - well, you're not quite ship shape, but thank god you're not lying dead in some ditch or alleyway. You're stoned out of your goddamn mind! What did you take? Tell me right now, or I'm going to phone an ambulance. I might do that, anyway. In fact -"
Miles turned away from Alex to turn on his phone, but suddenly Alex grabbed it out of his hand and threw it over the stairwell. Miles groaned at the sound it made as it hit the ground.
"Damn, that one's not under warranty anymore. You owe me a new mobile, you twat. But first things first. C'mon, let's get inside and get you sat down so I can have a look at you."
Alex nodded weakly and grunted as Miles wrapped his arm around him and half dragged and carried him into the flat. Miles gently lowered Alex onto the settee and sat down beside him.
He pressed his hand to Alex's forehead and frowned. "You're burning up, mate. You're all clammy and pale, like, and you have the shakes. What did you take?"
Alex grunted as his head lolled to the side. Miles snaked an arm around Alex's waist and pulled him back with him as he lay down. Alex rested his head in the crook of Miles's elbow, nestled between his chest and shoulder. Alex took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Nowt I 'aven't taken before. A 20 rock from a lad in t' park, I swear 's all." He whimpered and trembled. "Me 'ead hurts. Make it stop, Mi."
"Oh, bugger. Who knows what that kid in the park mixed in with the coke? He could've laced it with fentanyl, for fuck's sake! Alex? Al, stay awake for me, mate. I can't have you falling asleep again until I know exactly what you've taken. I know it's the last thing you want to do, but you have to let me phone an ambulance. Hang tight, I'm going to get the landline."
Alex groaned raggedly and shook his head. "No, I'm not goin' t' hospital! Please, Miles. Please don't make me go."
Miles scoffed and pressed the tip of his nose to the back of Alex's neck. "Alright, I'll make a deal with you. I'm going to keep a close eye on you tonight, and if I think you aren't getting any better, you have to let me phone them. Promise me, Al. Please."
Miles waited a bit for Alex to say something, but the only response he got was the shallow, shaky breath Alex took as he passed out again.
🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧
Alex jolted awake with a yelp and slapped Miles across the face. Miles scowled and pressed his hand to his cheek, burning with the outline of Alex's hand.
"I s'pose you're angry 'cause I phoned 999 after all? If you wanna hit me again, g'wed then. Sorry, Al, but I ain't sorry about it. You were dead to the world, almost dead as a doornail, good and proper! You might not care if you live or die, but by God, I do. You're my best mate, and you nearly died on me fuckin' settee! I love you, Alex."
Miles sniffed and wiped furiously at the tears that seeped from the corners of his eyes.
"You can't do this to me, you mardy little bastard! You might've got used to being on your own, and not having the lads or anyone else around to answer to or look after you, but those days are over. I'm here now, like it or not, so get bloody used to it!"
🎸🎸🎸
In the hour that followed, Alex was able to piece together what, more or less, had happened.
The little wanker in Hyde Park he'd bought the coke from had spiked it with fentanyl, chopped it up together into little clods of dust to make it even more addictive and keep his clients coming back.
He'd waited until he was in the alley behind Miles's new flat to upend the baggie onto a brick and snort it. Why he felt the need to wait until he was in the immediate vicinity of the one person that he knew would help him, regardless of whatever row or misunderstanding they might have, was something of a mystery to him, albeit obvious to that one person.
The drug, combined with the alcohol and small bits of heroin he had already imbibed, mixed together in a noxious brew that floored him, literally and figuratively. Somehow, in his incapacitated state, Alex had crawled up the back staircase without being seen.
Of course, he didn't figure he should have too much to worry about on that last note, it being 3:00 in the morning at the time.
So, he had crawled all the way up to Miles's flat and phoned him, too weak and disoriented to stand and knock at the door.
From there, when he had passed out, essentially in Miles's arms and on his couch, Miles had called an ambulance, and promptly injected Alex with a syringe of naloxone he happened to have on hand ('in case I ever needed it. It's been a rough year and a half, and I never quite knew what to expect from you.')
For an hour or so in the hospital, Alex got a quick checkup and signed a form to be released 'on his own recognizance,' and he left with Miles.
"Did you mean what you said back there? Am I really your best mate and all that?" Alex yawned and rubbed his eyes.
Miles put the car in park and reached over to brush his thumb over Alex's cheek. "Of course I meant it, Al. If you ever start to feel closed in again, like no one cares and you're all alone, remember it's not true. The guys all love you -"
"Yeah, but Matt and Jamie have wives and lives, like. They have kids and they have...all this responsibility. I don't have any of that. Nothing I do matters. I have nothing to live for, if I'm being honest."
Miles cursed and closed his eyes.
"That's rubbish, Alex. It's a load of bollocks, and you know it. Sure, Matt and Jamie have kids and they're married, but what of it? They love you, Al. They grew up with you, for fuck's sake! Nick loves you well enough. You plucked him from a dead-end, soul-crushing job and turned him into a rockstar. That's what you all are, Al. No, they're the rockstars, and you're the sun they orbit round. Or something. Bloody hell, you know what I'm trying to say! And what am I, chopped liver? I love you too, you ninny. More than anyone."
Miles blushed and turned away, pretending that there was something in his eye. Alex grinned at his reflection in the rearview mirror, and was briefly tempted to ask Miles if he meant that he loved him more than anyone else in his life, or if he was implying that no one else in Alex's life loved him as much as he did, if love were something that could be measured and weighed.
He thought about it, but ultimately, he decided that poor Miles had been through enough for one day.
He sighed and reached over to flick Miles's nose. "I'm sorry, Mi. Thanks...er, are you hungry? I'm starving. Let's get some takeaway."