The first night alone wasn't bad. Even the empty bed he could deal with. After all many nights he'd spent trapped out of the house or in prison he could deal with sleeping alone. Even waking up to the cold and feeling into the empty spot beside him for the missing woman wasn't the worst. His mind had told him before full consciousness that she was elsewhere. That didn't immediately register as gone.
It took time for his eye to open and even longer after he almost calls out her name to have the desire to move. Even when he does decide to move it is only enough to reach over for the coke at his bedside. Plissken put it back. Even through the shakes and addiction he had no desire for cocaine. The thought of everything was sickening. He tried to tell himself she would be back but he always wondered how long. Would it be next week? Next Month? Next Year? Never? The questions he burdened his mind with were worse than the fact that he had let her go.
His day wouldn't wait. Snake wanted to get up and moving before his children saw him like this. He was in no mood to deal with company or pity. He just needed time. He needed to believe that this was a temporary break but it was so hard after losing so much in the past. Still he fought it back and tried to put his trust in her to return.
He dressed half assed not much caring about how he looked. He didn't care about much of anything as he shuffled downstairs straight to the living room for a drink. He poured it trying to find a distraction but his eye settled on the wedding photo tucked in the glass door of the bar. That had been one of the happiest things he'd ever remembered. It was his dad with him and Xena right after the first dance. It brought a lump to his throat to even think about it. That happiness seemed so far away now.
Snake turned away from the picture only to see a living room filled with Grecian styled furniture. He felt the snap inside long before he even acted. Cold had let go into white hot rage. Everything he had kept pent up and his feeling of fear and loss rushed out in fury. Snake grabbed the first thing his hands could get on, the end table, and smashed off of the chaise lounge. He overturned the lounge as the pressure inside took over. The coffee table with the glass top and wrought iron legs almost went through the window when he threw it out of his way.
He hated everything that reminded him of Greece. Greece was what had taken her away and he loathed it. He wrecked the shelving smashing the urns he'd bought. The rage finally broke into pain. Pure pain. Snake just doubled up on the floor among the pottery shards. They cut in to his skin but the pain was welcome. He wanted to bleed because tears just didn't seem enough to let go of the ache in his chest. The tears came even if they were insufficient. The hot blood on his arm brought agony surging over his skin but he couldn't bear to move. He wanted to lay there and just not be, not be anything until she came home. Plissken wished for it, prayed for the pain to go away and still it went on.