If Marc Emery is the Prince of Pot, I'm the King! (upinsmoke) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-04-16 11:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | marijuana, speed |
Who: Marijuana and Speed
Where: Speed's apartment/The Highway
When: Thursday afternoon
Warnings: Drug use, language, the usual.
All Speed had to do was ask and Marijuana lept up from the couch, barely concentrating enough to do up his jeans and pull on a rather ragged t-shirt before grabbing his keys and racing downstairs. Matt and Dave were working the counter together and he gave them each a bright smile and a kiss, lingering longer with Dave because his favourite mortal was still looking so wan and detached from absolutely everything around him. And Marijuana couldn't fix him, couldn't fix the guilt Speed was feeling, couldn't make his little brother understand that Altamont was his fault, not Speed's.
But he pushed those thoughts from his mind because there was nothing more important than bringing his brother home safe and sound and he slid into the car, blaring the doors and thinking of Classic only briefly as he pulled out of the parking lot at an alarming speed. Sure, he was going above the speed limit but as he wound through the busy traffic of NYC, he simply didn't care. Speed had left, everyone always left but at least Speed was coming home and Marijuana could make sure that everything was alright. He could make sure that Speed felt loved and warm and safe.
Because what was he without the love he felt for his family? Merely a destructive being with a lust for pain and ambition that he could never, ever fulfill. Love was his attempt at redemption and as he ran up the stairs to knock on Speed's door, that was all that was on his mind.