InsaneJournal

Who: Divorce (itsnotyouitsme) and Comfort Food (sweetnsalty)
What: The post-Vegas freakout.
Where: Back home in Manhattan.
When: Tuesday morning.
Warnings: Does anyone want to see a panicky Divorce? No? Then consider this a warning.


The whole trip to Vegas had been a delightfully heady experience, if one first based in good intentions. After all, she'd been worried about Greed, the poor bastard. They'd known one another for longer than she liked to reflect, and not once during those years had Divorce ever seen him brought quite so low. Taking some time to bring him to his place of power had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Besides, wasn't she infamous for turning all situations over for the best possible benefit?

In retrospect, perhaps not. There were more blank spots in Divorce's memory than she cared to admit; Greed's sudden rise to power had been just that, sudden and powerful. She'd found herself momentarily overwhelmed when the Sin reclaimed his strength. And after that?

Divorce groaned to herself from bed. Her bedroom windows were wide open, letting in sun, cool breeze and rain alike. She was buried beneath the covers, the careful composure she saved for company gone in the privacy of her own home. The clothes she'd flown back in were scattered across the floor, her eyes were the dark circles both raccoons and goths coveted so, and her hair was a dark bird's nest. Whatever had happened in Las Vegas had been overwhelming. It wasn't just Greed's place of power -- marriages shattered in Vegas like glass, ties were cut forever, and even the shotgun weddings which did take place rarely lasted long.

Las Vegas had been good to them both, Divorce had thought, tugging a pillow over her head. The drinks and entertainment were all well and good, of course. But the power, that had been the drug of choice. She'd rarely felt so high before, so in tune with her worshipers, both completely in and horribly out of control, out of her damn head. Once the plane had landed and they'd left for the casino, everything became half-remembered snippets, flashes of card games, dice rolling, screaming matches, broken hearts, nails down backs and twisted sheets.

But with the high came the low, and that time was now. She'd staggered out of her cab and upstairs last night, or at least Divorce assumed as much. There was no memory of being drunk last night, but that had to be the reason she felt so miserable now. Since waking up, Divorce had fought to stay conscious; everything seemed so much easier if she just went back to sleep. Sounds were too loud, movement was too much, light was too bright like the glint of a ring on her finger--

Like a ring on her finger.

A ring. On her finger.

Later, she wouldn't be sure whether she'd actually screamed or hyperventilated first. She shrieked without realizing, sitting up and scrambling to untangle herself only to fall right off the edge of the bed. Divorce never took her eyes from her left hand, where the ring sat comfortably and made her feel sick beyond reason. She whimpered to herself, too horrified to touch the damn thing, scared even though it wasn't actually burning her left hand off and thus wouldn't do anything to her right. There was no time spent admiring the jewelry Greed had given her -- and it was Greed, so that in itself was a pity.

I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die

The thought rattled through her head ceaselessly, without consideration as to how the Sin may be feeling or whether he even knew. All Divorce could focus on was how ill she felt, how soul-sick and awful the ring made her feel down to her very being. She considered cutting off her hand in a moment of desperation, but it was more than that, wasn't it? It was the vows, those damnable words and the meaning behind them.

Unsure of what to do, Divorce turned her head to one side and was sick. Panting in the beginnings of a full-blown panic attack, she struggled to think of who she could call and how this could be fixed.