His brows furrowed and he swallowed thickly, holding his breath for a moment until he felt a little less like he was hyperventilating. His state of panic when drugged and when he had a clear mind wasn't terribly different, actually, except now he had some control over himself. He clenched then unclenched his jaw, staring more up than forward for a moment before he exhaled and let his head lull back against the wall staring at the ceiling.
"They do when you mix them with other shit," he said, like he'd been hoping to avoid telling Johnny he was using in the first place, which he had been. And now on top of Johnny - who he was convinced was going to be pissed at him and Indie - who would absolutely have a few choice words for him, there was Ecstasy who's reaction to this whole mess he could only imagine. "I did what I was told," he said, leaning to the side and shoving his hand in his pocket, "I didn't drink, I didn't take candy from strangers," he dropped the baggy of ecstasy tabs on the bed between them, "and I still got fucked over by some psychopath drugging drinks. And it's my own stupid fucking fault."
He rubbed his hand over the side of his face, looking like he was completely exhausted and had completely given up. He wasn't out of the dark just yet, though. He still had this lingering desire to claw at his own skin, to get the feeling of being touched away from him. There were still moments where he'd see something that he knew wasn't there and he was sure he'd be jumping at touches for long after the drugs wore off. But in his giving-up, he knew by the lack of overwhelming panic that nothing serious had happened. He couldn't logically prove it, but for a god who's entire world revolved around emotions and feelings, just having that instinct was enough.
Now to tackle the problem of just how pissed Johnny was going to be.