To Protect and To Serve

I'm so happy with the second half of the last chapter. *basks in the satisfaction* As a reminder, I do not own LiveJournal (the colloqual abbreviation of it, "LJ" is mentioned in this chapter).

-Sasuke-

Three different cases are finally solved and closed. I fill out paperwork for the others. Every day that I avoid a cold case, I am thankful. They all go cold for the same reason…besides, there’s probably an entire squad dedicated to solving them.

Have I mentioned I’m not a morning person?

“Uchiha.”
“The sex no longer makes up for it.”
“Talk to me.”
Hatake slides a note across my desk as I listen carefully to Gaara. Lee left him for undisclosed reasons but he’s willing to go to couple’s counseling after they’ve been apart for a week. Sleeping alone feels weird. How am I? “Fine…Francisco’s moving in soon.”
“Congratulations,” he grumbles. “Get back to work.”
“I’ll call you on my break.”
“Cool.”
I read the note. I’ve been working too hard and I should take time off, Hatake thinks. I walk into his office and we agree that I will take a week off. Not sure which week, but a week. Soledad went undercover to be in a gang for police purposes, a fact likes to come back and haunt me sometimes. She has everything she needs. She should be back soon. I am excused. Some cases are red-hot. Others are stalling and waiting to turn blue-cold. I work to revive the almost blue-cold cases. Progress.

Noon.
I take my lunch. Gaara’s voice is flat. He does not cry. His voice and words express, however, how betrayed he feels. He gives few details. I listen. Silence. Pondering. “Kill a few rats. That should get you through the day.” I can practically see his eyes light up at the mention of his hobby. He always says something wise-ass after I mention his hobby. This time is no exception. “Oh, what a fine upstanding upholder of the law you are…telling a civilian across state lines to commit a crime.” That’s him. Even though his boyfriend of five years left him a few days ago. I shake my head. “Okay,” he sighs. “You are always welcome here, Sasuke. I will always have the money to take you for pizza.”
“And I will always have an appetite for real Brooklyn-style pizza.”
A comfortable silence.
“It will always rain here for you.”
“I hope so.”
I hold the phone away from my ear so he can hear the patter. Minutes later, we hang up and I do what I do five days a week, eight hours a day not including the overtime that is so common. Umino helps me. So does Hatake. Then we wait. False leads stream in. And we wait. I clock out. So do they.

Tomorrow will be more waiting. It’s always like that.

I hand him the money. He counts it, or he seems to be counting it. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses even though the sky is the indigo of deep night. I wait patiently, and moan as the drug enters my blood.
“How come you asked for more than usual?”
“’Cause I wanted it,” I moan. Ooh, I feel good. Even better than I do when I’m fucking Francisco, or just kissing him or…not by much though…I really like being with him. And I met him when I was high…we had sex when my high was wearing off, only to be replaced with a different, more organic high. Francisco…has a key to my apartment. Soon to be ours. I can’t go home now. High. Fuck. He’ll fucking turn me in! My own boyfriend, my own submissive! No. I can’t let him do that. Can’t let him ruin my life, everything I’ve worked for. It’s not my fault I do meth. I don’t ingest it. I don’t snort it. I’ve only been doing it for four months. I eat the crystals. If I give meth up I’ll just have to get a lot of tooth and throat work done.
“I’ll try to come here more often. I know I haven’t sought you out in awhile,” I ramble to my dealer. He smiles. “Sure.” Maybe a few skin grafts to the roof of my mouth. Not yet. I’m not at that stage yet. I need this feeling more…

I start eating less meth at once but I buy it multiple times a day. Two turns into three in the span of a week. Francisco has brought some things over, telling me that when his assignment ends he’ll move in completely. I ask him if he’s ever physical with his girlfriend. He says no. We have sex two days a week, three times a day. I eat the crystal meth three times a day, every day. Another week passes. Francisco and I start to argue. I cry a lot. He always apologizes and cries when I cry. He’s going to find out about my habit. I write about this on my LJ. Everybody tells me to go to N.A., and I am so frustrated by that, that I delete my journal for three days. Nobody except my dealer and the people on LJ know of my habit besides me and it better stay that way. Nobody knows about my tagging, either. I keep that to myself and hide the spray paint cans in a new location every time. Another week passes. My cravings continue to intensify. I tag more. I take more risks. Somehow, my work performance improves greatly. I lie to Francisco, which won’t do anything good.

He matters to me…this is bad.

“Uchiha.”
“Come home, right now,” his voice shakes with anger and betrayal. I resist the urge to bang my head on my desk. “How did you find this number?” I try to stall the coming explosion. “Come home and I will tell you everything if you tell me everything.” I agree. Hatake tells me to take the entire week off—I told him I’m having problems with my boyfriend, and he gives me a week off. Suggests it. I stubbornly argue three. He says okay.
I have three days to deal with Francisco…myself…everything. I need to keep my job. I hope I do.
I hate this already.