A/N: Okay, this is going to be another SoR fic, a few chapters long, we'll see how long it is when it gets there. My Muse will let me know. This is an idea that I've had since I saw the movie but I finally got it down, w/ much thanks to xpennyroyalx aka MEG! *muchos kisses for Meg* It's a lot angstier than my other SoR fic, but it WILL have a happy ending, be assured of that, and it will be chock full o delicious slash.
Summary: When everything Freddy counts on disappears, he loses faith in everything around him. Can anyone prove to him that life is worth living? Freddy/Zack, eventually. This takes place eight years after School of Rock, so the kids are all eighteen, so don't go jumping all over me about having 10 year olds using drugs and swearing and all that bad stuff, mmmkaaaaay?
Pairing: Freddy/Zack, eventually, w/ possible other pairings showing up for other characters, but no other (serious) pairings involving these two. Don't worry, Freddy and Zack will end up together…they are MEANT for each other! They shall not be torn apart! *wields sword threateningly*
Dedications: MEG! I love you! *kisses kisses kisses* Thanks for the info you gave me on heroin, I used some of your quote.
Disclaimer: I do not own School of Rock. Freddy and Zack do not belong to me (though I personally think they should belong to each other). Dewey and FancyPants do not belong to me. Melanie and Tim do belong to me, seeing as I created them. None of the other kids, parents, teachers etc belong to me. Freddy's hallucinations do belong to me because I had lots of fun making them up. ;D Angst, slash and fluff in general do not belong to me but in this fic they do. The two songs used in this fic do not belong to me. The "Fuck the Pain Away" lyrics belong to Peaches. The "Breaking the Habit" lyrics belong to Linkin Park. Meg does not belong to me, though I kinda wish she did. ;D That is all. Nuwanda, over and out.
Memories consume
Like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again
You all assume
I'm safer in my room
Unless I try to start again
I don't want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That I'm the one confused
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight
Cultured my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I have no options left again
I dont want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That I'm the one confused
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight
I'll paint it on the walls
Cuz I'm the one that falls
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
to show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit tonight
Freddy's POV.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
Fuck the pain away. Fuck the pain away.
China White. Hell Dust. Dead on Arrival. Whatever name you want to call it, it means the same thing: Heroin. It's a seriously messed up drug and it's my one true source of happiness these days. Heroin can be smoked, snorted or injected. My preferred form is injection. You shoot it into a vein in your arm, works in up to 8 seconds, quick high, and then you get really tired, and people think you're asleep but you're not. You can't sleep when you're like that. It's impossible. You don't believe me? Have you ever had shadows run around a room without anything to cast them, or tigers waltz across your ceiling while drumsticks beat the time against your skull? I have. I have stared up at a ceiling that rippled and danced with swirling colors as pansies ran screaming into a night sky. I have seen dragons burn down fields of orange clover and then somersault into endless black holes which turned into disco balls that cast out snowflakes instead of light, floating softly down onto my prone body where they burned me with a fire I've never felt. I have lain on the floor drenched in my own sweat and seen sights such as these. I have watched all of these things, and I have enjoyed it.
Most people don't know how heroin works, and most of the time, that's because they won't go near the stuff. They say it's because they have a life and a brain; I say it's because they're fucking idiots. However, I'm always willing to explain, even if I do think you're a complete moron. Soon after injection, heroin crosses the blood-brain barrier. In the brain, heroin is converted to morphine and binds rapidly to opioid receptors. It's then that it hits you: a rush. It enters the brain so rapidly…this is part of what makes it so addictive. With heroin, the rush is usually accompanied by a warm flushing of the skin, dry mouth, and a heavy feeling, which may be accompanied by nausea, vomiting, and severe itching. Why anyone would want to take this stuff must be beyond your comprehension, huh? Well that's because you've never done it. You think nothing can be worth self-inflicted vomiting, huh? Well you're an idiot. Because if you haven't felt that rush then you have no fucking clue of how good it can feel.
I glance up to make sure the door is locked. Good. Not that anyone would come by…no one ever does. I turn all my attention back to the slim needle positioned just over my arm, right near my vein, poised to strike. I am stopped as I glance over the rest of my arm, riddled with scars and bruising from other times, other hits.
I don't know how I got to this point. I guess you could say it started when the School of Rock broke up. I mean, I knew it couldn't last long, but it still hurt. Those guys were my family…I mean, they are my family. It's just that now they're a family I rarely see…except Zack, that is, and occasionally Dewey. Zack and I are the only two still playing together. We started our own band and we're actually doing pretty well. It's different, though. It's not the same family experience. We've got a new keyboard player, a girl named Melanie, and a bass guitarist named Tim, but its do different. They're good kids, real cool and stuff, but I'll never feel as close to them as I do to the old band and the roadies and everyone. Heck, I even prefer Summer to them. I mean, I feel like they're never going to really fit in. Zack gets along just fine with them…but then, Zack gets along splendidly with everyone. He's just one of those guys. I get along good enough with them, but they're new. They haven't been here from the start and therefore they can't possibly appreciate where we're coming from. I sometimes feel as though they're the type of sell-out wannabe punks that Dewey warned us against. I don't know. What do I know? Nothing. I mean, I'm killing my brain more and more each day with always increasing dosages of heroin. I'm swiftly losing my already lax grip on reality, and I know it.
I almost stop…but I can't bring myself to do so. I forcefully inject the stuff before I can change my mind and I gasp as I feel it hit my bloodstream. It takes effect almost immediately. I slowly lean backwards, allowing myself to fall to the floor and lie there on my back, legs stretched out in front of me and arms flopping to the floor. My eyes slide gently shut and I take a deep breath, giving over everything to the drug, to the sensation of nothingness, of really not being. I can lie here and not be myself, not worry about my parents or school or friends or this fucking life in general. It is only here that I can truly lose myself in the depths of non-being. It is here alone that I can truly be happy.
~tbc~