Reoccurring Addictions and Parallel Circumstances
Summary: Sasuke is in Rehab, and is supposed to be recovering from cocaine addiction. He keeps back-sliding, and his mental health is at steak. Will Kakashi, his therapist, be able to save him? Or will it take a certain blonde pothead to get Sasuke back on track?
ANGST—SasuNaru later on—rated for drugs and implied rape--
Why? Ha. Well, let's just say this: it's just unreal.
Artificial, fabricated, false, fictitious. Something so blissfully far from reality that everything bad that's ever happened fades away, throwing you into any lovely illusion you like. You forget about everything. It all fades into the background.
Of course I didn't tell my shrink this when he asked my why I started doing cocaine. No, I just scoffed at him and lay back on his (rather comfortable, actually) sofa. He sighed, obviously frustrated with my silence, and pushed up his (hideous) glasses.
"Alright, then…let's just talk about-"
"You really are not a good therapist, are you?
"Excuse me?"
I laughed. "You can't get all pissy every time one of your clients doesn't spill their guts for you." I got up and padded quietly out, leaving 'the doctor' to his (dull) thoughts.
I opened the door of room 38A at the Konoha City Drug and Alcohol Rehabilitation Center, feeling a cool (freezing), (un)welcoming blast of super-chilled, negative-one-and-a-half-degree A.C. air as I entered. I ran to the tiny bathroom immediately, shoving four fingers down my throat as I ran. I threw up violently in the toilet, clutching the bowl as if for dear life. I swear I don't know why I do these things…I just do.
I lay on the floor next to the toilet (I don't know for how long); I completely forgot where I was…until I started shaking like a madman. I got up and practically flung myself across the room, kneeling in front of the small bed-side table, rummaging through one of the drawers.
Eyes wide, I stared at my trembling hand, biting back tears that threatened to spill onto the plastic baggie on the floor beneath me.
I can't do this…I can't do this…I cant-
"Sasuke-kun, come on…" A voice from behind me, sending chills up my spine "Just one line…then all the pain will go away…I promise"
I began to cry. I wasn't entirely sure why…maybe it was the cloudy mirror with a neat little line of what looked like chalkdust on it being pushed under my nose, or the fact that I couldn't breathe with a significantly larger body pressing me up against a rough brick wall, or maybe it was the icy cold hand under my shirt, rubbing circles on my stomach.
Whatever it was, I cried. I was afraid, and sad, and alone.
I was released from the wall, and fell to the ground, sobbing. Orochimaru lifted me up by the front of my shirt, I was back up against the wall.
"Sniff." He hissed at me, I sniffed. My nose, my throat, and my brain were on fire. I couldn't think. I tried to understand what the sounds from behind me were and where I was and how come I was being pressed against a brick wall again and again, and why it hurt so much…but I just couldn't think.
My hands were still shaking. I heard screaming. I only realized that it was me yelling when the door slammed open. I panicked.
Clutching the baggie to my chest, I fell into a fetal position. Four men dressed in white and navy bum-rushed me, wrenching the bag from my hands and dragging me towards the door. I made desperate grabs for the bag while struggling against their vice-like grips. I screamed as loud as I could. Suddenly, I was in a brick-lined hallway, icy hands holding me down. I cried and I screamed and I kicked, but it was no use; A hand was pressed against my mouth, trying to silence me. I bit down. Hard. I didn't let go until I tasted blood, and even then, I bit down harder, wanting to hurt those sickeningly pale hands as much as they had hurt me.
There was yelling. Not me, for once. No, someone else. I opened my eyes to see a bulky man in a white uniform doubled over in pain, hand covered in blood. I hit the floor as the other uniform-clad men rushed to his side, calling for a paramedic. I stayed quiet. I crawled over and sat against the wall in the hallway, crying silently.
After a while, someone familiar came. He touched the back of his hand to my cheek gently; he always does that. He took my shaking hands in his and spoke to me quietly (I don't know what he said, though). There was some silence, then my therapist picked me up and carried me to his office.
"Sasuke, I want you to listen to me…"
I wasn't listening, though. I was lying on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket with my hands over my ears. It had been like that for the past hour.
"Sasuke…" my therapist tried to reason with me.
I shook my head quickly, tangling my hair even more. "I want to sleep…"
"Well, you can't. Not until you talk to me."
"…"
"Sasuke, if we don't make any progress here, you'll have to go on medication again." He reached out to touch my hair, but I turned away. "And I know how you hate taking your meds…"
I sat up. My hands were still shaking. "Kakashi...Will. You. Please…take those goddamn glasses OFF?" I glared at him.
My shrink's one visible eyebrow raised (he had a huge eye patch over half of his face), and removed the (nauseating) glasses. "Are they really that bad?" he ran his hands through his own silver hair.
"Yes." I looked down at him; he was kneeling in front of me, but a little off to the side, holding my left hand in his right.
"How old are you, Sasuke?" he squeezed my hand gently.
"You know how-"
"I want to hear you say it." I could see him taking notes in his head.
"fifthmmn"
"What?"
"I'm fifteen"
"Good. How long have you been in Rehab?"
"A year."
"And how long were you doing drugs before that?
"Five years."
"How old would that make you when you started doing drugs?"
"Nine." I wasn't looking at Kakashi. I couldn't. I knew what he was doing- trying to make me see just how tragic it was that someone so young had started cocaine. Of course, I already knew.
"What was going on in your life…when you were nine?"
"I was…going to school…living alone…"
"Anything else?
"No."
About fifteen minutes of silence passed before Kakashi asked me another question.
"Have you been using the journal I got you?"
I nodded. Kakashi stood, letting go of my hand, walked to the door, and said something to someone standing just outside it. When he sat back down, this time on the sofa next to me, I still felt as if I was alone in the room. I held out my hand in front of him, palm up. He looked confused for a moment, but then understanding flooded his face (at least the visible half) and he smiled.
"If you want me to hold your hand, just ask."
I said nothing.
"We've been over this, Sasuke; you need to say what you're thinking when ever you're in this room."
"…holdmyhand…" I mumbled as quietly as I could.
"Well, it's a start..." Kakashi took my hand (which was still shaking, by the way) in his. I noticed how small my hand looked in his. It made me really sad.
Just then, my journal was brought in, and set on the little table in front of Kakashi. He picked it up and set it on my lap. I looked at him. "Before we talk about the journal, can you tell me why you always want me to hold your hand?"
"No."
"Sasuke…"
"I don't know…" I did know. I just didn't say. The truth was that, well, I had to hold on to something (someone), have some physical contact, so I could focus on the here and now, so I wouldn't fall into the abyss of my own mind.
sigh "Well, then let's see the journal." He gestured for me to open it. "What have you done since last time?"
I opened the little book to a page near the middle (it was marked by one of hose string thingies), and handed it to him.
Kakashi flipped through the pages, scrutinizing each one of my sketches. There was a picture of a cat that kept reappearing on my windowsill, one of me, sitting on my bed, hands folded, and three of Kakashi himself. In one picture, he was smiling, in one he was sleeping, and in one, he was angry with me. In the angry picture, his hair was a little more droopy, his eye(s) sharper, and the visible half of his face was twisted with rage behind long bangs.
"Why am I so angry in this picture?" there was hurt in his voice. I didn't answer. "Hmm?"
I gave a half-hearted shrug.
"Sasuke, I'm never angry with you. And I would never hurt you. Never. Do you know that?" He released my hand to run his own through my hair: a comforting gesture I'd come to enjoy over the months. I nodded. Kakashi was like a father to me. Of course he would never hurt me. But then again, that's exactly what I thought about everyone else who ever betrayed me.
How'd you like it? Good? Bad? Terrible? Should I continue?
Flames and constructive criticism are welcomed.
IN THE NEXT CHAPTER
Naruto is in Rehab for a few months, and a chance meeting in the cafeteria will change both his and Sasuke's lives forever. Also, Kakashi seems to be a little too friendly with Naruto's mentor, Iruka…