Who: Ketamine and Methadone What: Ketamine is upset and angry and doesn't know why. When: Sunday morning/early afternoon. Where: Their apartment Warnings: Drug use, language, possible violence, sexuality.
For weeks now, the tension had been slowly building; most of it Ketamine had been able to shove down into the darkness or stave off with plenty of drugs, but eventually he hit a wall where neither was helping anymore, where the feelings had hit the break and started to overflow. He knew he had been more distant through all of it as well - more withdrawn, sleeping more and eating less, quietly finishing is homework and then turning to quietly cuddle against his brother until it was time for bed. It wasn't unusual for Ketamine to be sedate - he was an anesthetic drug, after all - but it was unusual for him to go so long saying so little to anyone.
But as the tension boiled over, the quiet became less of a side-effect and more of a cage. Ketamine felt trapped inside of it, still trying to push it down but unable to fit any more into the dark place where he hid feelings he didn't want to deal with. He'd barely made it through his uncle's birthday on Friday holding himself together before, while his brother was away at work, it all finally came to a head on Saturday.
When the barrier broke, feelings rushed forward to flood him - everything he'd been pushing down came back at once following other feelings back to the surface. It was a clawing, anxious feeling that grasped him and, searching for any explanation for the way he was feeling, he clung to his overwhelming loneliness and the feeling of missing family - of missing his doctors and scientists and poets. It seemed illogical that such a feeling should cause all of this anxiety and anger, but Ketamine wasn't a logical drug and he knew that his emotions had the tendency to be extreme at times.
The promises Methadone made to him, the declarations of love and gentle, reassuring words only made his chest feel tighter. He was still trying to fight it and every time he was told that his pain and sadness would be taken away, he just felt more helpless to do away with it himself. And when Methadone came home, it was only a matter of moments before Ketamine leeched onto his side and buried his face against his brother's chest, legs tangling as curled up on the couch and fingers curling tightly in the Drug's shirt. It didn't start right away, but just a few hushed murmurs and Ketamine was sobbing, uncontrolled, against Methadone's shoulder. Then as his brother hugged him closer in an attempt to console him, Ketamine's arms wrapped around him, long nails digging into Methadone's back through his shirt, and released and drawn-out, painful scream into his shoulder before dissolving into sobs once more. Eventually his crying subside as sleep finally washed over him. He wouldn't remember being carried into bed or tucked safely in or the way Methadone stayed wrapped around him all night.
When morning came, Ketamine couldn't say he felt a lot better. In some regards he was completely drained - but there was more still inside of him. The loneliness - the hopeless, choking, panicked feeling of being alone - had abated, but there was anger left behind. Maybe now that he'd released those emotions he could fight his way through the rest. He couldn't feel relieved, though, not when the desire to claw and tear at something was what had replaced the utter depression he'd dealt with the day before.