Work Text:
When Rue Bennett died her soul tasted mainly of vulnerability, addiction, and loneliness. But there had always been a strong aftertaste.
The love she had for her friends, the sacrifices she made for them. Her desperation to get better, to show she wasn’t just a screw up or a junkie. The taste of overcoming hardships and it still not being enough. Still she died, the way everyone thought she would, a way that wasn’t her fault, to something she thought she had overcame.
She died an “addict”, but she also died a sort of hero for her family, her friends, people she barely knew.