It all started after we defeated Trigon in our final showdown. I was absolved of the demon- my father- that haunted and tortured me endlessly. I was no longer a portal. The apocalypse ended and, somehow, life continued as usual. Just as it had before.
For a while.
Then, the nightmares began. Nightmares of a second coming and some unresolved tension. That he would return and I would channel him into the mortal realm once more. I guess you could say that is when it all really began.
I was reluctant to sleep. All-nighters became common. Sometimes, I could string two or three together. It was miserable, but at least I wasn't terrorized by my dreams. It wasn't sustainable, though. A few fainting episodes and sleeping through a mission compelled my friends to urge me to see a doctor. Reluctantly, I complied.
I explained the nightmares to him. The dread of slumber, and, oftentimes, the resulting inability to fall asleep. I explained how, even when I wanted to, sleep wouldn't come easily. If at all.
He assured me that this wasn't something he hadn't seen before. Nightmares, night terrors, sleep dread, what have you. He told me it was nothing to worry about. He had something for me.
In my sleep-deprived, desperate state, I was eager for whatever help I could get.
10 MG of Ambien, as needed.
As I would soon discover, the "as needed" clause would become my undoing.
The first night I took it, I passed out within minutes. I slept nearly a full 14 hours, and awoke totally refreshed. I'd caught up with most of the sleep I'd missed. I was so elated and relieved I honestly shed a tear or two. He was right. I'd be fine. And, for a while, I was.
One week went by.
Two.
Three.
A month.
Nearly two.
That was the end, though. I began to notice it wasn't knocking me out as easily anymore. It irritated me, and I considered upping the dose. But I didn't want to abuse the drug. As long as I stuck to 10 MG, I'd be fine. It just might take a little longer to get to sleep.
At first, it was just by a margin of ten minutes, then twenty, thirty, and so on. Eventually, it took nearly an hour to take me out.
It was already too late, though.
If you know anything about hypnotics, you realize the weird shit it will do to your head if you resist sedation. The more I acclimated to the drug, the more I recognized each stage as it came. The mild euphoria that grew exponentially every ten minutes or so. The reduced inhibitions and muddled thoughts. No hallucinations, but they weren't necessary or welcome. I found, oddly, I daydreamt more. And it was so easy to get lost in them. I was always aware I was on Ambien, but it was too enticing not to play along with the figments of my mind. We'd go through rides in New York. I'd talk to my alarm clock. I laughed at my pillow.
I didn't need Ambien to sleep anymore. I just liked getting high.
Every night, dutifully, I'd take my pill. I'd always look for a way to rationalize it. I had a bad day? That's fine. I always knew there would be a trip waiting for me at the end of it. Beast Boy was especially obnoxious? That was fine. Just meant I'd need Ambien to wind down later that night. I had a good day? What better way than to top it off with a trip.
I wasn't doing anything wrong. They were prescribed to me. And I could take them every night if I damn well pleased.
One day, though- I can't even remember why- everyone was getting on my nerves. Far worse than usual. I wanted to get out of my room, but I also wanted to read. Yet, everyone insisted on making conversation with me. It would be easy to say that's why I got so livid, but somehow it felt like a copout.
They want to talk? I remember deciding. Okay. I like to socialize. But it'll be on MY terms. I excused myself to my room for a moment. I knew there was one thing I could always rely on to make things fun. Though I didn't internalize it at the time, I knew Ambien was the only thing making me happy anymore. It was worth the grogginess the following day. The mood swings and gaps in memory. None of it mattered as long as I got to trip later.
I swallowed my usual dose and returned to the commons. Cyborg and Beast Boy were idly flipping channels.
"Hey, Rae." Beast Boy's face brightened. "You wanna watch some TV now?"
"You bet I would." I could feel my brain starting to shut down. Thinking about it sober, I knew it was screwed up, but Beast Boy was leagues more interesting when I was high.
"Really?" His ears perked up like a dogs and it made me laugh.
"Yesh." I slurred. Only Cyborg seemed to notice. It afforded me just a cursory glance. He seemed to absorbed in football or whatever was flitting around on the screen.
Even in my stupor, I could tell when I was really starting to go braindead. Beast Boy kept yapping about something, and the gummed-up gears in my head worked as quickly as they could to give him the appropriate responses. There were times I said complete nonsense, but when I caught myself on it, I played it off like one of my typical witticisms.
Beast Boy either wasn't smart enough to see through my act, or he was too nervous to blow the amicable conversation we were having. He was making me laugh for once. Not just sarcastic, bitter laughter, either. He was actually humoring me, and it made my heart well up a little.
It was all a lie, but it felt sincere. I liked connecting with him, even if I had to be doped up to do it. The world was closing in around me, and everything was so vibrant and alive. His smile was especially brilliant through my unfocused, bleared eyes.
Somewhere, in my muddled pool of thoughts, I ached to stay this way. For the unending bliss, and to be exactly what he needed and wanted me to be.
It was maybe two hours until the high began to wear off and reality lazily sunk back in. Though it grew easier to think and understand him, the conversation became increasingly uninteresting.
He could tell, and it almost broke me heart to watch his expression gradually fall. I knew this wouldn't work if I continued to sober up. I did all I knew I could.
"Hey, Beast Boy," I offered with a grin. "I just need to use the bathroom quick. Stick around, I want to talk some more."
"Sure, Rae!" His expression brightened again. I didn't know why, and I still don't now. But I wanted that to linger forever.
I arrived at my room within a few minutes, and slid through the door on uneven legs. The sedative was still impairing my muscle coordination. I glanced at myself in the mirror. And, oddly, I was happy with what I saw.
I jittered a bit as I pried the bottle open. I could go a night or two without any. Just one more tonight. For him.
For us.
The thought was crazy, full of holes, and unfocused. In my rational mind, I knew I was acting on impulse. I was jumping into things too quickly, and ignoring all possible negative ramifications.
My heart was welling again. I could make this work. Ambien would just be what sets the groundwork. Yes, that would be fine. Just like I used it for sleep, I'd use it to get closer to Beast Boy. Just like he wanted. And just like I wanted in those dizzying highs and milky vision.
It'd be all right.
I swallowed two.