A/N: this chapter took me days to edit. My writing didn't go as planned.
Please review! Enjoy.
"The human body is the best picture of the human soul" –Ludwig Wittgenstein
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The body inhales oxygen just to exhale carbon dioxide. Without a brain the heart cannot live. Without a heart the brain cannot live. Without chemically formulated drugs, Sasuke cannot live.
His body demands it and Sasuke must meet these demands daily. He does not own his own body, his organs nor his mind, they belong to him. The very blood that swirls in his veins does not belong to him, rather it. There are days when Sasuke forgets the sensation of owning his own body, days where he yearns to control his urges and desires.
Sasuke screams. His body on fire, his mind churning for it, begging for it. When he finally does consume it he obtains peace. But this only lasts for a period of time before Sasuke is forced to see him again.
When they meet Sasuke is perfect.
When the high dies down he crumbles.
Just like many things in the world, it demands a price.
His body.
Overtime Sasuke's body begins to deteriorate. He loses muscle, his skin turns sickly pale and the needle scars in the crook of his elbow look like blood splashed on a beautiful piece of art.
This was the price.
The drugs cause his blood vessels to tighten, the pressure on his constricted arteries and veins command his heart to beat faster. In attempt to keep up with his rapid heart he breathes. But inhaling the required oxygen deems a struggle as he suddenly feels something blocking his airway. He is in agony.
Suddenly he's gasping for air as the sharp pain in his chest intensifies. His breathing slowly becomes short and ragged as his lungs struggle to function. His muscles fail him as they constantly twitch, unable to control the persistent pain. He knows if he remains in this condition, his muscle tissues are bound to rip themselves apart.
When Sasuke overdoses his body enters overdrive. His brain finds it difficult to cope with the excess amount of chemicals. His mind shatters, the deep cracks visible. His emotions unstable. He is delusional, paranoid. Eyes follow him where ever he walks. Whispers follow him where ever he stands.
"Pathetic"
"More"
He vaguely sees a middle aged man affectionately place his hand on his shoulder, asking if he is okay.
Sasuke tears his body away from the human touch, his body in flames.
"He wants to kill you"
He hisses at the man but his muscles ignore the order, instead an animalistic sound erupts from his throat.
The man cowers in fear before distancing himself from Sasuke.
His head darts from side to side as the shadows begin to converge, mocking and whispering before they control his mind.
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Fourteen hours later Sasuke opens his eyes.
Two hours later he is heaving whatever remains in his stomach into a metal bucket provided by the nurses.
Thirty minutes later he feels light headed.
As moments pass Sasuke is slowly able to make out objects in the room without suffering from a mild headache.
One hour later he is able to slowly move his fingers, silently pleased his body is responding. That he is in control.
By the time the sun slowly ascends Sasuke finally recognizes the room he resides in and realizes what he has done.
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His mother is smiling, but the emotion does not reach her eyes. The moment she walks in, a sense of comfort surrounds Sasuke. (Who is silently grateful his mother bothered to visit him.) Her presence seems to light up the room, keeping the shadows at bay.
Sasuke lays motionlessly in bed as his mother discusses the new gardener and the horrible man her sister decided to marry. For once he chooses to actually listen, lightly smiling at the perfect moments.He decides he deserves to indulge in a little drama.
For it made it forget about his own.
His mother seems to notice his stomach rumbling as she chuckles, before unsealing the plastic bag that she had brought with her, uncovering fresh homemade food.
He misses her cooking.
His mother does not ask questions. She does not demand answers. She does not cry.
But Sasuke knows his mother has already tormented herself when he was unconscious.
He is not oblivious.
Her swollen crimson eyes and the deep purple bags underneath them reveal otherwise. There is a certain roughness to her voice which indicates she spent most of the night sobbing and screaming.
He feels a pang of guilt for the woman who beared him for nine months. For she was the only person in his family that showed compassion and love. How could he explain himself?
"Your father will be visiting soon" she smiles, but the corners of her mouth twitch for the slightest of moments.
There is a specific area in the temporal lobe labelled as the Amygdala. It is responsible for the different emotions humans undergo; love, fear and anger. And for a long time Sasuke assumed his father had medically gotten his Amygdala removed.
The man feels nothing, he fears nothing.
He almost envies him. Almost.
His mother eventually leaves, along with his sanity.
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When night descends, when only the moon illuminates the large hospital room, when the echo of biomedical equipment break the screaming silence, Sasuke begins to hear voices.
He no longer distinguishes between his thoughts and the voices.
It's 3 a.m. when he notices. When the darkness envelopes the room and his imagination produces jawless creatures. When the dark void surrounds him he whimpers. Its sharp edges cutting him as it drains the oxygen in the room. It is not merciful, it is mocking as it brings along with it the demons of his childhood.
It is not forgiving.
Inhale oxygen.
If breaking is painful, recovery is worse. Beyond the metal handles of the hospital doors, the flirtatious nurses and the doctors hiding behind yellow clipboards is the obvious fact that he is just another digit. Another statistic to be written and studied. Another "poor soul" who finds tranquillity in white powdered products.
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A light knock on the door breaks the uneasy silence. Sasuke quickly assumes it's not his afternoon nurse nor the usual doctor. Neither knock.
"Come in" his raspy voice comes out much rougher than he expects.
The metal door swings open silently as Itachi steps into the room, illuminated by the artificial light.
Sasuke's breath is caught in his throat. He doesn't expect to see his brother, let alone visit. (He is still surprised his mother had bothered to visit.)
The day Sasuke turned 21 he had enthusiastically packed his ruffle bag and bolted downstairs, eager to break the news to his family. He had decided to attend law school and live closer to his university, none other than Naruto who had planted the idea in his mind.
He wanted to become independent. He wanted to live away from his father's scrutinizing stare. Fugaku was surprisingly supportive. He had offered him money but Sasuke confusingly declined, shocked by his father's reaction.
Sasuke ventured.
Within a year he was arrested twice, lost his scholarship and failed multiple subjects in university, forcing him to drop out.
Overtime his father no longer picked his phone, his brother no longer answered his texts and his mother became suddenly busy. His family was pulling away, isolating themselves. Sasuke had a strong feeling it was all his father's doing, adamant to have no connection with his youngest son. The son that dishonoured the family name. The son that brought news headlines and shame to his father's name. Sasuke became the appendix of the family, the wisdom teeth.
Hence it was surprising when the youngest Uchiha woke up to find his mother seated next to his bed, clenching his bed sheets and biting down a sob.
"Sasuke"
Itachi's voice interrupts his train of thought. Sasuke snaps his head towards the owner of the voice only to notice the eldest has made himself comfortable, seating on the same chair his mother was in a couple of hours ago.
"How are you feeling?"
Obsidian eyes meet hollow onyx ones.
"Fine" he intends to sound harsh, instead it comes out as a whimper.
Itachi's emotionless eyes scan the youngest laying in the bed, his gaze flickers to the scars on his arms where the numerous needles were placed. The prominent lines under Sasuke's eyes and the way they dart around the room, almost expecting someone to suddenly appear.
Itachi inhales.
"What happened Sasuke?" his voice barely above a whisper.
This is what Sasuke was avoiding. The confrontation. The sympathetic looks and concerned expressions.
"Sasuke" Itachi's palm rests on his knee, giving a slight squeeze of assurance.
The paranoid boy instantly flinches, forcing his knee out of his brother's grip.
Itachi is slightly taken back, however he quickly composes himself. Choosing to ignore his younger brother's strange behaviour.
There are sixty seconds in a minute. Sixty minutes in an hour. Twenty-four hours in a day.
8760 hours in a year.
People change on a daily base. Whether it is a minor or major change, the change itself still occurs. Humans adapt, they grow.
Itachi could not judge Sasuke based on who he was over 8760 hours ago.
Change is constant.
Hence why Itachi decides on a different approach.
"I spoke to your Doctor, he wants to transfer you to a recovery facility and make sure you don't…"
His voice trails off as he notices Sasuke has chosen to ignore him.
Sasuke eyes flicker to the large French window south of the room, its ivory frame chipping as it's overdue for another coat of paint.
Silence.
"How long?"
The eldest hesitates before answering. "Usually 30 days but based on your…"
Exhale.
"Condition maybe more"
Sasuke meets Itachi's worried gaze.
Suddenly he remembers he's just another statistic. Itachi's sympathetic gaze rips through his soul and makes him feel damaged.
Sasuke's knuckles turn white, his teeth clench and his face hardens. He instantly has the urge to destroy something, to hurt him. The wrath consumes his body, threatening to destroy his morals.
Once again, Itachi was the enemy.
But Sasuke has long destroyed his morals, choosing death over life.
"I don't need your sympathy" he suddenly spits out as his face turns a certain shade of crimson.
"Sasuke look at you" hisses Itachi in an attempt to wake up his broken brother. He wants to scream, grab him by his shoulders and shake him until he finally realizes.
But Itachi knows picking up broken shards of a mirror is bound to lead to cuts.
Instead he relies on his words.
"They want to treat it as attempted suicide but father managed to convince them it was an accidental overdose. Besides what are you doing taking drugs, let alone the amount-"
"So you want me to thank father?" the snide remark strikes a chord in Itachi.
"Stop acting like a child"
"Shut up!" barks Sasuke. The heart monitor rapidly beeps, begging not to be ignored.
"You have no right to judge me, no fucking right. You have no idea!"
The machine continues to produce the loud sound, alerting the nurses of the patient's condition.
Itachi stares at the emotional wreck laying before him. The way his brothers cheeks flush crimson as he digs his nails into his palm, drawing out blood.
Sasuke struggles to compose himself as his eye sight becomes blurry, he refuses to allow the tears to fall.
Before any more pain is afflicted, the door suddenly swings open and two young nurses rush in.
"Check his oxygen rate" urges one to the other as their hands are suddenly placed on the shaking boy.
Sasuke pushes them away, angrily wiping away the tears that threaten to spill.
How pathetic.
"I'm fine" he says between clenched teeth.
"Your heart rate is through the roof! For someone your age it shouldn't…" her eyes instantly flicker to Itachi who has suddenly stood up, a shocked look replacing his usual patient façade.
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Once Itachi leaves the room he meets the red haired nurse who had barraged into the room a few moments ago. (After the commotion he was asked to leave.)
"Excuse me sir" she hesitates before continuing. "I'm sure you understand the impact of what has happened to Sasuke's body"
Itachi isn't sure if she's done talking.
"His mind has taken most of the toll and the damage is most physiological. We advise you not to stress him out"
Itachi is surprised she isn't reading from a script.
He merely nods in understanding. The nurse gives him a warm smile before turning around, the heels of her shoes producing sharp sounds against the marble tiles.
"Excuse me"
The nurse twirls on her heels, arching an eyebrow as she faces the questioning man.
"Would I be able to speak to Uchiha Sasuke's doctor?"
She eyes him thoughtfully before her face breaks into a smile.
"Of course"
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The sunlight seeping through the large rustic window forces him to open his eyes. He already feels a headache forming as he mentally groans, willing the pain away.
He suddenly notices Itachi's presence, whose gaze is boring into his.
"You've lost weight" Itachi whispers, stating the obvious.
He chooses to ignore the argument that had occurred yesterday.
"Yeh, that's what meth does to you"
Itachi inwardly flinches from the dark honesty, his brother is too comfortable with his situation.
He however allows the crude comment to slide.
"They're releasing you today, we're just waiting for the release forms"
We?
Sasuke closes his eyes briefly before forcing himself to sit up using the support of his palms.
"What about the rec-"
"You're doctor has come to the decision that it's best for you to receive treatment from home. However…"
Of course. There was a condition.
"You have to reside with me and I have to make sure you attend the recovery programs"
Sasuke's jaw slackens.
"What? No! I refuse I would-"
"Sasuke" Itachi's impassive tone interrupts him.
Sasuke vaguely remembers Itachi using the very same tone when they were younger.
He chooses to bury the memory.
"You will be forced to stay in a recovery facility and they will most definitely treat you as a suicide case. Don't be ignorant"
Sasuke growls, he was naïve and foolish.
But he was intelligent enough to know which path was the best for him.
Sasuke knows Itachi has a soft spot for him.
Sasuke knows how to be manipulative. After all, his father is Fugaku Uchiha.
"Your choice" Itachi gestures with his hands, pointing between both of them.
"Or you could stay with mother and father" his upper lip curling in a smirk.
Sasuke glares at him.
Itachi interprets his silence as a yes and curtly nods.
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It is his anchor, his life.
It brings him from darkness to light only to end with light to darkness.
It is bitter and sweet.
It is euphoria and misery.
It is his end, his death.