To Protect and To Serve

I said I was on a creative writing jag and bragged...it vanished a week later. Diminished in capacity, rather. I am working diligently to revive it--it has a steady pulse! I do not own Narcotics Anonymous, nor have I ever used their services. This chapter is not complete. 'Corazon' is literally Spanish for 'heart,' but if one person says it to a loved one, it also means 'sweetheart.' There's a lot of time-jumps in this chapter. They're a few hours apart at most. Again, LiveJournal is mentioned in this chapter and other chapters. I do not own LiveJournal, or anything related to this story for that matter, nor do I gain profit from it.

-Naruto-
"Are you an addict?"
Sasuke's eyes dart around the room at that, and he twiddles his fingers. He avoids the question, which means 'Yes!' or he doesn't know. Or he won't admit it. I just never imagined this. "Will you go through N.A. anyway?" The carotid artery in his neck jumps. I'm making him very nervous. Or he needs his fix. I'm thinking both. "Talk to me, corazon." He breathes irregularly and tries to still his breathing. "Working in law enforcement is stessful. You know this. I watched others become alcoholics or continue their habits, and I swore to myself I'd never be like them. There's so much misery in the world...sometimes I think it's all here in Seattle. People are so mean to each other. I had to find a way to cope. Counseling wouldn't work. Sex wasn't enough. I saw a dealer on the street one night and was so depressed, for six months. I just wanted to feel better. Now I am having trouble if not already dependent." There is so much left unsaid.
"Why do you tag?"
His eyes widen.
"I looked through this apartment and in your desk when I was trying to find ramen I stashed away..."
"What are you, a spy?! You told me you work for the FBI!"
"I do! I am not a spy! I just wanted ramen!"
"You moron," is the grumble.
"Answer my question."
"It's an outlet. The first time I did it was to celebrate my entry into the force."
"Is your drug use and tagging emotionally connected?"
Sasuke nods. "One after the other."

I have no idea what to do with his confessions. I'd have to see him do the things to report him I think...I could just be trying to protect him. That's very common. I mull over some options in my head for a few seconds. We all know I'm impulsive and not one to think things through. You especially know this. "Here's what we're going to do--we're both going to get tested for STDs and HIV--shut up, Sasuke! Then you're going to dispose of your spray cans. Give them to someone for all I care. You'll go through N.A. and you will never, ever tag or do drugs again. Learn a new way to cope--my way is sex or videogames. Now Sasuke, I know the statistics on meth users. Only six percent stay sober even intermittently, and even they find another addiction usually. You will be part of that six percent. Use a legal, ethical addiction. Okay?"
He nods numbly. I'm surprised at myself for being so dominant, for taking charge with Sasuke like that. He is too. "I'm going to make dinner," I explain softly. I hug him tightly and he kisses me. I go into the kitchen.

I fidget. We’re checking in with Tsunade. I’m hungry and really want this to go quickly! There is a cup of instant ramen carefully hidden in my locker, which is also near the room with the thermos of boiling water…it’s always done after three minutes, but I can rarely wait that long. Two minutes and I’m gobbling down crunchy, wet ramen and slurping hot broth. Ooh, wonderfully salty ramen. “Uzumaki?”
“Huh—uh, yeah, Hinata’s pretty much told you everything!” I grin. Tsunade scowls and I know she’s thinking about the jug of bourbon she has stashed in her office.
“Tsunade?”
“Yes?”
“We’ve already conducted raids as an organization. As an operation, why are we out there?”
“Finishing touches, Uzumaki,” she responds breezily. “That’s why you’re only in there for three months. We all know full-scale raids last about a year, and this isn’t one.”
“A month left to go,” Hinata smiles. Only I hear what she is saying, and I grin. We’re ready to be done already. After this operation is over, I’ll take some vacation time and sick leave. They don’t roll over, so I have to use them all by the end of the year. The first thing I’ll do is eat ramen cup after ramen cup, then sushi and chocolate…I’ll buy Sasuke a bunch of tomatoes too, he likes them…then I’ll play videogames for hours and holler and shout and cause mayhem.
“Uzumaki?”
“Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Naruto?” Sasuke mumbles sleepily.
“Huh?” I yawn, curling up to him. He mumbles a word that sounds like “nothing” and rolls over. I inhale and exhale deeply, falling asleep again. Sasuke’s been saying my name in his sleep more and more often. I wonder why.

Username
I poke at the keys, entering the information.
Password
I poke at different keys, entering more information. I click on the ‘post entry’ function and type.

-I’m so stressed out right now. Believe it! You may ask yourselves, what can the great Uzumaki Naruto have to worry about? And in any case, ramen can make it better! Sadly, ramen can only slightly improve my mood (oh desired loveliness). I just ate ramen anyway! I only have thirteen cups stashed in assorted hiding places. Actually, nine are by now. I have to buy more immediately—nine is a small number! The stress is terrible! Work, taxes, health insurance, bills, work (and did I mention work?). I never update this things, just ramble on it occasionally. Sorry. Work stress, everything stress, stress-stress-stress. Sasuke started treatment. I’m crawling off the walls in stress. He’s my new boyfriend, by the way. We’re serious. Living together and everything, but nothing legal yet. It happened fast. He has a drug habit that recently became an addiction but yeah, he started treatment a week ago. N.A. and all that. I want more ramen.-

Click. I update the journal maybe four times a year. Sasuke updates his every day, sometimes multiple times a day. Sometimes he leaves it for weeks though. We both have free accounts, so no money is being wasted. Money. Insurance. Ugh. I’ll think of ramen instead.
Sasuke grunts loudly in anger at me. He’s lying on his abdomen, face tucked into the pillow on his—our—bed. “Don’t barge in here while I’m sleeping after treatment, idiot!” he raises his head enough to growl. Once the final syllable leaves his mouth, his face is snuggled back into the pillow. I glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. “It’s five o’clock in the afternoon!” He responds with loud, angry mumbles and draws the blankets tighter around him. Oh, the beginning of going cold turkey…it’ll be hell but we have to get through it.