Author's Note: I'm posting the second chapter (being this one) because I felt like that one was too short and I wanted to open in depth my story, basically.
Yeah, enjoy.
-havefuckingheart
You're Welcome.
Two weeks. Two weeks of agony, having to attend pointless sessions with Dr. Shizune, who would always flirt in between with the 10 year younger male, and would try to help with his problems. She'd try to plant a move, noticed how irrational and how he gave less of a shit for her feelings, and would resume her interviews with him, asking "How do you feel?" and "Are you okay?" every five minutes during it. It killed him.
"I want you to take these pills twice a day every day. When you run out, come back, and we'll gladly refill it." She murmured. "Do not forget. Eventually, I'd say, three months or so, we'll have regular sessions."
Like hell he was taking them.
"Hn." He snatched the small prescription bag and walked out, scratching his wrist. He had needles in both veins for the past two weeks; it felt rather refreshing at how they weren't there anymore. Stuffing his free hand in his pocket, he threw the bag behind him as he pushed the heavy, metal doors open and walked home.
If his brother let him back in, that is.
"You're alive." The elder Uchiha mused as he casually flipped through the local newspaper, a mug of coffee in his free hand. "Not that I'm shocked, or anything."
"Shut the fuck up." The youngest snapped as he kicked off his shoes and laid on the opposing couch on the other side of the room. He wasn't going to tolerate such ignorance at seven thirty in the morning, much less from the piece of scum who didn't even try to stop him.
He snatched the box from under the couch, and brought it to his lap. Taking off the top, he took out some needles, a bong, and two small, plastic bags, and a can of air freshener. Knowing what his younger brother was odds off ending up doing, the eldest got up without a word and slammed his room door shut.
He despised needles, he despised what his little brother was doing, and he hated everything and anything to do with drugs. Heroin, cocaine, weed, whatever and whichever it was, he hated it. He hated seeing his brother depend on substances to feel better; he hated seeing him get more and more addicted to it. He hated seeing him so much more paler than he usually was, he hated the purple rings under his eyes that never went away, and he hated seeing his chapped and cracked his face was.
What was he turning into?
He could smell the smoke and hear him wince as he inserted a needle into his right arm. He could hear him mutter inappropriate words from his room and the sudden urge to snatch it all away from him and force him into rehab had kicked in.
Sasuke was only twenty two. He had so much ahead of him.
But that was the problem. He was twenty two. He was an adult; he couldn't force an adult to stop doing whatever he wanted, no matter how badly he wanted to. He had a problem, Itachi knew this, but even he couldn't stop it.
Another spray, the aroma of lilacs filled the living room. Rubbing his nose with his sleeve, Sasuke put his goods back in the box, and re-arranged it for safe keeping. Spraying the room again, he dumped the empty bottle in the can and left the apartment without another word.
Rubbing his temples with his long, slender fingers, he took out a cigarette from his back pocket and a lighter and lit up his cig in the hallway, ironically under a "No Smoking" sign. Amused by his rebellion, he brought it to his lips and inhaled slowly.
He was fucking himself up for the best, he re-assured himself. If rope couldn't kill him, he was sure smoking would do the job.