Take it and Throw it Away

He got the window down just in time. The puke splattered the freeway as they sped along, and Sid slumped against the seat. "Ah feel like shite, Ahm fuckin dyin'." He moaned, squirming and grimacing, always the drama king. In the front, his friend assured him they would be in Los Angeles soon.

"Don't worry. We'll get you well." The girl in the passenger seat was turned around, smiling widely at him. Sid moaned and twitched his shoulders as though he were having spasms. It was quite unpleasant, but not quite so terribly awful as he was making it out to be. "The guy we're going to has the best junk in LA. You'll be on the nod for hours."

They pulled up to a rather normal looking house in a slightly bad neighborhood. A young black kid in a hoodie walked by the car, and gave Sid the stink eye as he opened the door. "Was his problem then?" Sid remarked to no one in particular. Then the girl was at his side, helping him down the sidewalk and up to the door. "Ahm alrigh, Ahm no crippled." He gave her a large frown, but she kept her arm around his torso. She was at least a foot shorter than him. She knocked on the door, three times in rapid succession, and then twice, more slowly. A guy with blue hair swung the door open.

"Oh, Molly. Nice you see you, love." He kissed her cheek, then panned over to Sid. "Who's this?" He asked, sounding a bit off put.

"Frez, don't be an idiot! This is Sid Vicious!" She hissed his name excitedly, a pretend whisper that was actually rather loud. Frez raised his eyebrows to let the three of them inside.

Beer bottles were strewn across the floor, and there were a few holes in the wall, but besides that, it wasn't too filthy or cruddy like a lot of punk houses that Sid had been too. Someone obviously straightened the place up on a frequent basis. Some kids were on the sofa, and some on the floor, a dozen people in total. Sid peered into the kitchen and leaned up against the wall.

"We need a fix." Molly was talking to another guy now, making the deal, sorting it out. Sid just slumped against the wall feeling ill. He didn't even make his own deals anymore, didn't have to pay for anything now that he was a star. These people must all know me, he thought. The punks were mostly pointedly avoiding looking at him, like they didn't want to seem starstruck, except for one boy who was sitting on the couch, blatantly staring at Sid. What did he want? He must really love my band, Sid thought. Even though the Pistols were broken up, they were still his band.

"Ok, I got it. Come on, don't you wanna get well?!" Molly was there, making a face, and Sid shook his head and followed her. She went over to the sofa, the only piece of sitting furniture in the living room, a ratty light brown number with numerous cigarette holes. A coffee table sat before it, scratched up and adorned with an overflowing ashtray like a centerpiece. "Excuse me, but we've got a dying man here!" She said in a demanding tone to the three punks on the sofa. The boy who had been staring at Sid simply looked at her, smiling, but the other two, a young couple, exchanged glances and shifted uncomfortably. "Pleeeease. I've got to have access to that table to cook up." So the couple got up, settling back down on some pillows in the corner. Sid plopped down in the middle of the sofa, next to the boy, and Molly sat down and began to prepare two shots of heroin. Someone had given her a spoon and two rigs. How wonderful, a full service station.

Sid sat there anxiously, staring at his shot in anticipation. Molly turned to him with the rig in her mouth. "Tie off." She mumbled around the syringe. Sid fumbled around his pants, but his jeans were tight enough that he hadn't bothered with a belt.

"Here." The boy next to him whipped off his belt and held it out to Sid, a bizarre smile playing on his face. Sid grabbed the belt and tied off, not bothering to read into whatever that kid was thinking. He had to get well. That was his only focus now. Molly took his scarred up arm and searched for a good spot. Sid closed his eyes and he felt the poke, and then she was undoing the belt. He opened his eyes and flexed his arm, clenching and unclenching his fist, doing curls.

The rush was very powerful. Sid's eyes opened wide and then closed. A breath escaped his lips as he sighed. He leaned into the sofa, warmth enveloping him, tingling spreading through his body as the opiates invaded his brain. "Nice." He said, relaxing against the cushions. Now that was some quality H.

Molly smiled and nodded. "Told you it was good."

"Fuckin aces." Sid muttered. Satisfied with his reaction, Molly set about getting herself high. Sid was blissfully stoned, his eyelids getting droopy already, but he kept them open and fought the nod. "Anyone got a fag?" He said to the room. No one was paying attention to him.

"Hey! Anyone got a fag?" The kid next to him shouted, loud enough to be painful to Sid's ears. "A smoke?" He clarified. "You guys don't know English slang?" He spoke in a mock English accent now. A girl crawled over to him, not bothering to get off the floor, and reached into the breast pocket of her plaid shirt and produced a pack of smokes.

She handed one to the boy and said, "Here Darby." Then she lit one up herself and leaned her back against the couch, the back of her hand falling on the kid's knee, offering the lighter in her open palm.

Darby took the lighter and lit the smoke, taking a long drag. He turned to Sid and blew out the smoke, aiming just above his head, and held out the smoke between his index and middle fingers. "Here's that fag you wanted." He said with a weird half smile, taking another drag. Sid couldn't be sure if he was making fun of him or not, but it didn't matter. Darby handed him the cigarette and Sid pulled on it hard. It was torture to be high without any cigarettes.

"Thanks mate. Wha's ya name, then?" Sid blinked repeatedly, smoke in his eyes.

"Call me Darby. And you are..." Darby raised his eyebrows, tilted his head slightly to the side. He was being cocky, coy.

"Ahm Sid. Ever heard of the Sex Pistols? Ah play bass. Ah mean....Ah played. We've broke up."

"That sucks. You guys were pretty good. I've heard a few songs. But you didn't play on the record, though, right?"

"Naw, I dinnae play ohn tha record." Sid said haughtily. "Who gives a toss? They wasn noffin before Ah joined up. None of them knows how tae work tha stage, cept John. Johnny's awight wif it buh he's jus too shy, clams up with wimin, he's beastly on tha stage but he doesnae know how tae have fun."

"So they wouldn't be famous if it wasn't for you, basically, is what you're telling me?"

"No fuckin way. Ah was the face o tha Pistols. Still ahm, really." Sid hit the cigarette again. "Ahm the ones gonna go ontae have anover group, and make maself a millionaire. John's gone too new wave abou it all. He don't understand fury, is like he's forgotten."

Darby nodded, held his hand out for the cigarette, which Sid hit again and then passed back. Molly had nodded out, her head slumping. Sid shook her leg. "You breathin?" He asked. She nodded and smiled at him, and then returned to her nod. "Featherweight, tha one." Sid said. He noticed that Darby was sitting a bit close to him, close enough that the sides of their thighs were touching. Sid noted somewhat uncomfortably that he could feel Darby's body heat radiating off of him. Darby bounced slightly in place and Sid was far too aware of his leg rubbing against his own.

"Yeah. She's pretty small. The smaller you are, the less of a tolerance you'll have." Darby remarked.

Sid sighed and rolled his head around from side to side. "Ahm bored. Everything is so fuckin boring."

"Yeah. Bunch of junkies in here, they just sleep and drool all over each other." Darby ashed on his pants. "No one even talks."

"You don't shoot up?" Sid was taken aback. Maybe that's why he seemed so damn alert.

"Fuck yeah I shoot up. I just take an esteemed variety of substances. I don't wanna be a zombie, its too boring to be on just H alone. You wanna have some real fun?" Darby's eyes had widened, and he turned his whole body to face Sid, raising and lowering his eyebrows and grinning theatrically. His knee knocked into Sid's as he turned.

"Yeah, sure." Sid answered a bit too quickly. "Ah, Ah, mean, tha depends. Wha ya talkin abou?"

"Speed." Darby whispered. "Shhh, it's like farting in church around here. These H junkies hate it when someones flailing. Might accidentally have a laugh." He leaned over and snatched the pack of cigarette's from the pocket of the nodded out girl in front of him. "C'mon. Your lady friend is...indisposed at the moment." He grabbed the bottle of water off the table, slung his belt over his shoulder and got up quietly so as not to disturb the girl whose smokes he had just swiped. Sid got up and followed him, through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs, to a carpeted hallway with doors to 6 different rooms. Darby pounded on one of the doors.

"Occupido!" A guy's voice rang out. So he walked down a door and tried again, this time without a response. He opened and the door and was pleased to see an empty room laid out before him.

"We got one with a bed." Darby said, going over to the mattress and sitting down. He went into the pocket of his leather biker jacket and got out a rig and a bag of white crystal like shards. He sucked up some water into his rig. Sid closed the door and stood there awkwardly.

"Check it out, Sid. The guy who owns this place, he used to rent out rooms. Furnished rooms, all utilities paid! So he would rent out these rooms, right. But then I guess one of his tenants was a junkie, got him hooked. So this guy is rich, he's got his own money or whatever, he didn't really need the money from this, so he just stops renting rooms. And he just lets the place go, lets all the junkies and punks come over and just hang out. So it's not a squat at all! It's all official. Pretty cool, huh?" Darby had the plunger out of his syringe and was pouring shards into the syringe. Sid approached him, staring. Darby put the rig back together and began to shake it, back and forth.

"What..." Sid said without thinking.

"You never done speed before?" Darby was grinning. He beckoned Sid to come over, and Sid came to him and sat down across from him. The bed was firm and comfortable. Sid was transfixed on what Darby was doing.

"Course I've done speed before. Its different in England is all."

"So you've never slammed speed before?" When Sid did not reply, Darby laughed. "It's okay. I don't mind blowing your mind. You can trust me, I'm a professional." He shook the rig a few more times and then seemed to remember something. "Uh, this is a dirty one, though. I mean, I've used this point before."

"So?" Sid shrugged.

Darby shrugged. "I don't care if you don't care."

Sid tightened the belt around his bicep. "I'm trustin ye not to kill me straight off wif that." He said, half jokingly. Darby moved closer to him, taking his arm and laying it across his leg. He seemed to think for a moment and then swung around behind Sid, positioned himself so that he could reach around under his right arm to hit his left arm.
"It's easier like this." He said simply. Then his feet and calves were on top of Sid's legs, his midsection pressed against Sid's back, and he was stroking his arm with one hand, searching for the vein, the other hand positioning the rig against his arm, the side of his forehead against Sid's cheekbone. In this position, it was almost like Sid's arm was Darby's arm. His touch was like a caress against Sid's skin. Sid was excited. He'd done speed plenty back in England, but Darby was right, he'd never shot it up. And something in Darby's touch was exciting him too.

"Ready?" Darby's lips touched Sid's ear. Sid nodded. Darby brought the needle up to his flesh and drug it across the vein. "Aim." He punctured the vein and drew back, and blood rushed into the dropper. "Fire." And he pushed down on the plunger with a steady pressure, checking half way through to be sure that it was still in the vein.

Sid felt it hit him like a ton of bricks. His mouth tasted strange, like chemicals, and his heart picked up pace. He coughed and opened and closed his mouth, and he felt a clenching. He let his body fall down, head in Darby's lap, who held his head and stroked his hair. Then a feeling of blissful, incredible euphoria took over him. There was a warming feeling, but this was way different than heroin. Better.

He looked up at Darby. Sid felt amazing. He flexed his arms, and his body felt really alive, awake and deeply his own. Darby was beautiful, and he could admit that to himself now. "Fuckin brilliant." He breathed deeply, trying to catch his breath, and each breath got him higher. He sat up rapidly, his knees touching Darby's. "That wis fuckin great. Holy fuck."

"Yeah. Holy fuck." Darby smiled. He started getting a shot ready for himself. He let Sid rush as he took off his leather and shot himself up, blasted his way into oblivion. Then he capped up his rig and dropped it on to the floor. He picked up Sid's arm and licked the blood trickling out. "Tu cuerpo es mi cuerpo." He said softly. Sid didn't find it odd that Darby had licked him, or rather he knew it had been a weird thing to do, but it had felt nice, and he had no desire to discourage it. Sid had never felt so erotic, so sensual.

"What's that mean? That Spanish?"

"Yeah. It means...Your body-" Darby stroked Sid's cheek, his mouth open slightly, practically holding his breath, "Is my body. Now that we shared blood. We're blood brothers now, Sid." Darby started to breath rapidly as he had what felt like a minor heart attack. He grabbed Sid's wrist and said, "We're gonna stay up all night together."

"Yeah? How d'you know Ah wanna do that?"

"I'm pre cognisant. I know what you're thinking before you think it. You're gonna spend the night with me. And we're never gonna sleep again. We're gonna take this world by the balls and start our own musical enterprise. Sid and Darby and the Elastic Speedball Band."

"Awight." Sid laughed. "Whatever you say." He had never felt so fantastic. He was happy like he'd never been before. Maybe this was how he had always been supposed to feel, and there was something wrong with his brain. He couldn't find the words to describe his euphoria. "So what now?"

Darby seemed to think for a moment. "Let's go up on the roof. You'll like it up there. I know you will, we've already done it in some dimensions."

So he took Sid up another flight of stairs, and another, and another. The building was in a state of extreme disrepair on the higher levels. When they reached the top, Sid was grinning. "Told ya you'd like it." Darby was lighting up a cigarette. He gave it to Sid and lit another one for himself. "You can see the whole dirty fuckin city from up here." Darby pointed towards the glowing lights and towers of downtown. Sid seemed almost mesmerized, staring out at the scene before his eyes.

"Is fuckin divine." Sid said breathlessly. He toked hard on his cigarette and glanced at Darby. The words caught in his throat and he walked to the side of the building and stared off the edge. "Long way down, innit?"

Darby was at his side in a moment, and then he was balancing on one foot, the other foot in the air, windmilling. "Looooooooong way down!" He steadied himself and laughed. Then he turned to Sid and asked, suddenly deadly serious, "Should I jump?"

"Wha? Fuck off." Sid was taken aback.

"No, really. I want to jump everytime I'm up here. Bet that would be a hell of a rush." He was smiling, hitting his cigarette, but something in his voice told Sid he wasn't joking around.

"You better not go on an do it while I'm around." Sid said.

"Why not?" Darby was teasing, tilting his chin up at Sid again.

"Cuz I'll jump right after ya, an mah ghost will kick your's arse, awight?" Sid stuck the cig in his mouth and grabbed Darby by the front of his shirt and shook him just slightly, and brought his face to level with the shorter boy's. "An I don't want to do all tha."

Darby raised his hands, palm up, without letting go of his smoke. Sid released him roughly, pushing him away from the roof. "Okay, okay, I surrender. I won't jump. Jeez, you got a hell of a way of showing concern." He was hiding his smile as he smoothed his hair and straightened his leather. "Why should you care if I want to give up? You don't wanna watch the splatter?"

"You tryin to get me to rough you up, that it?" Sid advanced on Darby. "Only one way you're gettin done in up here, an tha's wit these." Sid shook his fist at Darby and launched himself at the smaller boy. Darby gave a high pitched, melodramatic scream, and Sid tackled him down to the cold hard cement of the roof, cushioning Darby's fall with his arms. He stared at him, pinning him down with an arm across his chest, faces a few inches apart. Darby squirmed slightly, breathing rapidly, but he was obviously enjoying himself, and a look of disappointment crossed his face when Sid sat up and let him go. Darby stayed on his back, taking out another cigarette and throwing the pack at Sid.

"Please don't hurt me, Sir." Darby said, his voice purposely shaky. "You win, okay." He sat up fast and closed the distance between the two of them. "You think you're pretty tough, huh?" Darby licked his lips.

"Yeah, Ah s'pose so."

Darby shrugged off his leather and showed Sid his arms, the cigarette burns and scabs, the scars and the slashes. "I did this one with a hair straightening iron." Darby said of one burn on his forearm. "This is from glass." He traced a long, wide pink keloid scar. "This one is my Germs Burn. Circle One." This was a cigarette burn scar on the inside of his wrist. The moonlight was good enough for Sid to see it all, and he found himself touching the injuries, running his fingers over the mauled skin.

"Ah've done tha a few times...mostly on stage." Sid lifted up his shirt to show Darby a quickly healing cut across his chest, which Darby ran his fingers over, making Sid shiver. "You do it cuz you're bored?"

"Yeah, cuz I'm bored. Cuz I'm numb. It makes me remember, I'm human, I'm alive, you know? It gives me somewhere to put all this shit that's locked up in my brain. I get a kick out of it. When other people watch me, they flip, and that's cool, but it doesn't have to be on stage. It feels great, you know, it really does feel great. Endorphins, epinephrine. The body rewards you for damaging it. It's a real trip." Darby took a drag from his cigarette. Sid nodded like he understood everything Darby had said.

"What's Circle One?" Sid asked, partly because he knew Darby wanted him to ask.

"It's a thing I started. Like a crew. It's for all my kids, everyone who follows me and my band. You can only get one from someone who already has one. And once you get the burn, you're in it for life. Circle one."

"But why circle one? Cuz the burn is a circle, innit?"

"Not just that. Everything is a circle. The cycle of death and rebirth, that's a circle. Every day you wake up, you do your shit and you go to sleep, that's a circle. You build a tower and someone else burns it down, that's a circle.You're born, you eat, you shit, you breath, and you die, and that's a circle. Nothing ever really ends or begins, linear time is just a perception defect of our human minds. Power, possession, who's got the reigns, who's in control....It's all cyclic, it all comes back to circles."

"Well, go on then." Sid held out his wrist.

"What?"

"Go on. Give me one, give me a burn."

"You don't need one. You're Sid Vicious." Darby laughed. He almost didn't want to for a moment, because he didn't want to manipulate this one, not Sid, but then again....how poetic... He started knocking the ash away from the cherry of his cigarette, preparing it.

"Yeah, but I want to. I like wha yiv said abou it, the circle thing. Ah always thought about it like that, yeah, I've just never found the words for it like you. Besides, I like pain."

Darby shrugged. "Ok."

Sid let Darby take his wrist. "I bet everyone who hears you talk wants one of em, yeah?"

"For the most part."

"Ah only want it from you." Sid stared at his wrist, and Darby brought the cigarette down onto the skin. The pain was white hot and searing, but it did feel good, in a way, and Sid looked up to meet Darby's eyes as the cigarette slowly burnt out on his skin.

"Ah've jus realized, ya know wha some people woul say tha means, righ?" Sid said breathlessly. The cigarette had burnt out, but Darby kept holding it there anyway, eyes locked on Sid's.

"What would they say?"

"They'd say Ah belong to you now. Ye've branded me, then, aven't you?"

"In a way, yeah. I guess I have." Darby's tongue flicked out to lick his lips again. He would never admit it, but he was anxious, eager, his body shaking slightly. He'd always admired Sid, wanted to have that kind of stage presence. "That would be pretty gay, though, wouldn't it?" He said, leading Sid, testing the waters.

"So? Tha's a word fer society. Ah don need any labels on me. Ah'd rather be be queer than boring." Sid couldn't believe how easily his words were flowing. Normally he found it hard to grab onto the right words, so he was quiet most of the time, especially when he was sober, shy, afraid of rejection or misunderstanding. This drug took all that worry away. Apparently it did the same thing to Darby.

Darby let the cigarette fall away, and his heart was beating so fast it felt as though it would seize up and explode. "So you're my slave now. I own you."

"Bollocks. Ahm no one's slave." Sid felt a confidence building in him. Darby was tilting his chin up at Sid, asking him without words.

"We can do whatever we want. I can be your slave, you can be mine. We can be whoever we want, no one's watching. No ones gonna report it to the nightly news. "

"Yer makin me excited, talkin abou this shite. Tryin tae make me crazy."

"You brought it up. It's normal to get like that on speed, especially when you slam it." Darby said, shrugging.

"Yeah, well, Ahm awl bothered now." Sid rubbed his crotch, and Darby almost couldn't contain himself, seeing how Sid was hard against his jeans. It was so forbidden, and Darby never could make the first move, in case he'd been wrong, in case the guy got pissed off and disgusted. Darby didn't get turned down....

"Nothin wrong wiv takin care of eachother." Sid said, rationalizing.

"No. There's nothing wrong with that at all. You read my mind."

Sid found himself checking out Darby's bulge, found himself wondering how big he was. He looked back at Darby's face and Darby nodded. Sid leaned over and kissed him, pressed his lips to Darby's quickly and pulled away. Darby put his hands behind Sid's neck, nodded again. They moved at the same time, kissing more deeply this time, Darby moving into Sid's lap.

He wrapped his legs around Sid and kissed him roughly, like he was trying to fit a thousand moments into this one. Sid pressed into Darby, held his skinny torso tightly, wanted to comfort him, take away his pain and sublimate it into himself. The desperation was palatable in Darby's intensity as they made out, Darby's hands wandering over Sid's body, up under his shirt, kissing his neck now.

"I don't want to go." Sid breathed into Darby's ear. "Is all goin so fast....I dinnae mean for it all to fall apart." Sid was holding Darby's chest on both sides, his face crazy and gacked out and desperate. "I really wasnae tryin to fuck it all up...but ihts all I can do. I don't know how to be a partner. Ahm a fuck up. I ruin everythin I touch." Sid was hysterical, struggling to breath. Darby didn't know what to do, but he found himself holding Sid and running his hand down Sid's cheek.

"Me too. I'm a leader of the living dead, we got nothing. There's nothin for people like us. Not here. We got nothin here. This is a place for change. And maybe, you know what? We can make other people see it, see how dumb they are. We're gonna die young, man, people with insight like us, man, it's our fate. We're doomed. I've got a five year plan, though, I'm gonna make some changes around here. I'm never gonna die, because I'm gonna be immortalized in infamy. I'm not gonna jump, you know, because it's not time for me to do that yet. But there's always room for improvisation."

"You got a way of gettin inside someone's head, ain't you? You control people, make em do whoteva you want em to, you got a way of doin it. Well it ain't goin to work on me. I know wot you're doin, you can't ave my head unless I give it ta you. I'm not sayin I won't. But it'll be mah choice, see?"

Darby couldn't believe that Sid had read him so easily. Intelligence was obviously compensated for by intuition in this one. Darby liked him a thousand times more intensly.
"That's what it's all about. This is our game." He laughed bitterly. "We make the rules. Most idiots can't see that. They're looking for somebody to follow, somebody to tell them what to do and how to do it, because it's easier on them. They don't have the capacity to run their own lives. They need to be ruled, they fucking beg for it!"

Sid was emotionally overwhelmed. He took Darby back into his arms and kissed him again, whispering fears and doubts to him as they touched. "I'm not what I seem tae be. I'm really not a tough guy.... I jis wan tae play some songs, an ave a crowd, but, gawd, I could stay up here forever wiv you. I jis want to have fun, an be happy." He held Darby's face in his hands, and Darby snarled, showing his cracked and broken front teeth, and Sid held him tighter.

"We aren't supposed to be happy. We are the sacrificial lamb of society. They didn't leave any happiness, not for us, man. We're - fucked." Darby was manic, his lips snarling as he spoke. He was out of his gourd, totally tweaking. "We're already dead."

"Yeah. But we got this moment, ain't we? We got eachovir, right now. I got you, an you got me. Don' matter if ih lasts. We got eachovir for now and that's awl I care to give a fuck about." Sid held Darby's chin in his hands and stared into his eyes. "Wha'eva they made you think, they wis fuckin wrong. I fuckin hate everybody, they're all a bunch of cattle, tryin tae kill somefin they don't understand. You avent got to die for them." Sid had never been one with words. But Darby's crazy eyes were focusing on him, focusing, as his mind understood and processed the words, and he saw how alike they were, Sid was just a less eloquent time bomb, and Darby's mind whirled.