Author's Note: Just a random snippet I wrote. Based on the idea that Simon has turned to drugs as a source of alleviation from the constant thoughts that invade his mind, as well as a way to cope with all of life's troubles. Also based in human-verse.

I own nothing.


Simon leaned forward, tightening his grip on the ceramic sink until his knuckles turned a violent shade of white. Sharp, unnatural movements brought the brunette closer to his reflection. Orbs of sapphire traced every inch of that familiar face, which was now marked with patches of blood that had risen to the surface. It didn't hurt, that much he knew. However, he couldn't be sure if the dull numbing sensation was natural or merely a reaction to the cocktail of chemicals that were currently swirling through his blood stream; screaming a euphoric melody as they tore through each and every vein.

A soft, almost shy, knocking could be heard through the thick fog. Simon placed a hand on his heart, thinking a spring had come loose in the pink, fleshy contraption that was hidden beneath a blanket of skin, muscle and bone. He was contemplating disassembling the faulty machine, half ready to dive into his own chest with a crimson, plastic tooth brush just as a voice spoke up from the heavens.

"Simon, is that you? What're you doing?"

Bloodshot eyes darted around. Disappointment crept into the brunette's soul, taking over his every being. The disembodied voice wasn't angelic, or luminous, or commanding, or anything that was supposed to spill forth from the heavens onto the piteous creatures below. It was grating, like the sound of a meat grinder working overtime in a children's sweat shop.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Simon stared down at his chest. There was that confounded noise again. He was positive the thing had to be removed.

"Come on, Si, open the door." The tapping turned into a blitzkrieg of thunder. Death smiled in the mirror as the sounds of anger, concern, and passion rained down onto the shiny tile of the bathroom floor. Lightning struck, allowing the force field between two bodies to be demolished, spilling dry wall and processed wood into the brunette's space in its wake.

Theodore stared hard at his brother. He knew of at least three illegal substances that were swimming in the older boy's body. He knew that by all logic, the boy should be convulsing on the floor in a pile of green vomit. Instead, he was looking that very boy in the eye. "What are you doing with Alvin's tooth brush?" Simon stared at the blonde, his grip on the plastic device tightening. Emerald eyes narrowed as they tried to adjust to the big, steaming pile of crazy that had wandered into the upstairs bathroom.

A thin, straight line of crimson began to trickle from the brunette's left nostril. The ringing in his ears masked the clatter of plastic on tile as the tooth brush plummeted into space, completely forgotten as a ghastly figure stared through the looking glass and straight into Simon's core. The pristine, white ceramic sink was now desecrated with the crimson liquid. Simon could feel the intoxicating cocktail leaving his body.