Come Clean

See disclaimer in part one (Come Down)

Ledah is finally asleep.

It's taken him a while to settle down; it usually does when he's not easing off or into the peak of a high. But he's curled up against me, clinging almost childishly, his breathing soft and even, his lips parted just slightly. He looks… peaceful is the word I want to use, but that's not true. Haggard is a lot more accurate, hounded perhapsa bit truer. He's definitely sickly, but that's more because of his reaction to his drugs than anything else. But he just looks so tired, even asleep.

I pray that he'll be able to forgive me for what I'm about to do to him.

What I'm already doing to him.

I've talked to Samael a lot recently. I really do worry about Ledah, and he's really the only one I can turn to. He's told me that in Ledah's condition, increasing the dosage of a shot of Antidote just enough to get high will soon become fatal. He's not eating properly and doesn't get nearly enough sleep, and he's let his health fall completely by the wayside along with everything else. His enslavement to addiction has weakened him, and with his rising tolerance to Antidote…

I can't let it happen.

Samael has told me he'll help me if I need it, but I want to do this on my own, or at least try to as long as I can. He's already done so much—helped me learn about detox and the things I'll need—that I'd feel ashamed taking any more assistance.

Besides, I feel a little responsible for letting it get this bad.

Ledah's needed someone to take care of him all these years, but I wonder sometimes if I haven't been a little too accepting of his habits. Choosing between his life and his gratitude is easy now, but maybe I could've kept it from going on this long if I'd put my foot down earlier. Maybe I have just been enabling him, like Samael keeps hinting. But it's so hard to want to do something that'll hurt him, even though it's for his own good…

Quitting a drug cold turkey is never easy. Antidote is so addictive and powerful that withdrawal can start hours after a long-term addict misses a dose. I think Ledah's a little afraid of the near-literal hell he'll go through if he ever decides to quit.

But I can't let this go on any longer.

I've lived with Ledah long enough that I know exactly where he hides his drugs, his needles, and everything else he uses. Only a few hours ago—when I knew he was lying still and as asleep as he is right now—did I dare to sneak out; I was afraid he'd find me. But I did it—I cleaned it all out and disposed of everything.

I've already warned the other Antidote stoners that no matter what happens, none of them are to give Ledah another fix. Just in case, I've already gotten permission from Samael, Celina, and the others to quit my schooling for a while—a few months at the shortest, even years if that's what needs to happen. I'll stay with him, help him ride it off, keep him from sneaking out and getting himself drugged up again.

If Ledah keeps this on, he'll kill himself. He has to stop, even if that means I have to intervene against his will.

He shifts and moans softly as he sleeps in my arms. My heart aching, I lean forward to kiss his forehead, murmuring whatever I can think of to soothe him back into sleep. He's such a restless sleeper lately, and he seems like he's made out of porcelain, so fragile that a single touch could break him.

It wasn't just his virginity that Ledah lost ten years ago. I know that he would never be like this if his father hadn't done those things to him. Even though his parents beat him, he was different back then… stronger. He didn't just give in to things right away; he still had that spark left, that spirit that put him on the pedestal of my child's idolatry. The rape just took all the fight out of him, until he was ready to do anything just to free himself from that pain and shame.

I didn't understand all of this back then, but I knew it all the same.

Ledah's the child in this relationship now, the dependent. He acts more like a dispassionate, disillusioned doll than the man he should be, my classmate and my tutor as he once was.

I want that Ledah back. Even though I know it's hard to reclaim what once was, I want him back. And if Ledah were asked about it—if he were completely sober and in his normal rational mind—I think he would agree, too.

But it's going to be so hard.

Worse than his childish dependence are the looks he gives me when he doesn't think I'm paying attention. Those sad, hopeless, hangdog stares, depressed and almost tearful, aching with longing and shame… their meaning is quite plain to me, and they're painful even to look at. They're just so completely soulful, so truthful… and the look on his face is always, "I need you. I need you, but I'm not good enough for you. I'm not good enough and I never will be."

Maybe it's arrogant of me. But I can't stand it. I have to save him.

Please, Ledah, don't hate me for the pain I'm going to put you through.

I'll be there with you. You'll scream and curse at me, you'll try to escape. I'll try to be strong enough to withstand it, strong enough for both of us. I'll hold you when you shake with the fever of withdrawal, and when you're feeling better I'll whisper all the sweet insubstantial promises you want as you sleep.

I only want what'll be best for you.

Gods, forgive me. I can't help but feel this way.

You're good enough for me.

So please… forgive me for this, Ledah.

I pray that once you come clean, you'll understand.

:owari: