Who: Judas and Agatha What: Drunken agony When: Sunday night 7th April Where: Agatha's Place Warnings: swears and self-hate (hope tis all good posting this, Circe =)
Judas barely saw Agatha, so did not see her pain. This was not a good time of year for him. Between Christmas and Easter, he frequented dark, forsaken places, where God did not intrude on his misery. He had been straight drunk for two weeks, begging and stealing to get that one more drink when he felt the nausea of the come down begin to eat at him.
Stumbling, he came back to the apartment where Agatha had given him shelter, head spinning. He went for the cupboards, but they were bare. How long had they been empty? He had taken things to trade for booze, but didn't they normally get replaced? He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, screwing up his face.
Nothing, nothing. All was empty and worthless, and the Knowledge welled up inside him until he was sick, expelling the alcoholic corruption from his body to splash on the floor as he clung white-knuckled to the cupboard doorknob to stay upright. He heard a loud moan, and realised it was coming from himself.
Who could he turn to? Who would understand? Mary had shut him out, like she always did when it suited her. She hadn't responded to him in weeks, just sat still and alone. He'd watched her take other men upstairs, some filthy, some not, but hadn't had the will to force himself on her attentions or her body. He thought he remembered once when she'd looked at him with love and companionship, but that might have been a dream. He loved and hated her, and loved that she hated him in such an outward expression of how much he hated himself. That did not lend itself to comforting arms, even if Mary would ever relent and forgive him even a little.
Agatha didn't judge him (but he knew inside she did.) She had let him in. He wanted someone to care for him, to clean him up, to know how sinful he was and do it anyway.
"Agatha," he called, his voice hoarse. When he got no response, he called again, louder, and again, banging the cupboard door to punctuate each shout. "AGATHA *bang* AGATHA *bang* AGATHA AGATHA AGATHA *bang bang BANG*"