(no subject)
Jason had really thought this kind of shit was behind him. He was going to AA, he worked his ass off with the building crew, he hung out with Rupert, he let Kara boss him around just as good as Sookie or Tara ever had. He'd even tried visiting the church once or twice, but after he kept finding booklets from the Fellowship of the Sun on the bookshelf, he kind of lost his stomach for that.
He was ready to have a good time at this New Year's party. After all, regular drinking wasn't a problem for him. Not that he was going to get trashed, since it just took him back to other places, but still. He could drink a little, flirt a little, see if anyone would dance, and maybe forget the crapfest his life had been before.
Polishing off a beer, he was just about to go for some food when he saw it, gleaming wickedly by the punchbowl.
A whole tube of V.
Now, it wasn't marked or anything, but Jason knew, with the way only someone who'd been in its clutches could, what it was. He broke out in a cold sweat, and it was like he could feel Amy leaning on his shoulders, begging him for just one more try.
His palms were sweaty as he picked up the tube, feeling a familiar weight. He wouldn't take it. He wouldn't take it.
But he sure as hell couldn't leave it there for someone else to find. Not with what he knew about what V could do to a person, leave them sick or fucked up or dead.
Jason held it as tightly as he dared to without breaking it, and he began a surprisingly methodical, robotic search of areas of the compound where partiers were. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
He was ready to have a good time at this New Year's party. After all, regular drinking wasn't a problem for him. Not that he was going to get trashed, since it just took him back to other places, but still. He could drink a little, flirt a little, see if anyone would dance, and maybe forget the crapfest his life had been before.
Polishing off a beer, he was just about to go for some food when he saw it, gleaming wickedly by the punchbowl.
A whole tube of V.
Now, it wasn't marked or anything, but Jason knew, with the way only someone who'd been in its clutches could, what it was. He broke out in a cold sweat, and it was like he could feel Amy leaning on his shoulders, begging him for just one more try.
His palms were sweaty as he picked up the tube, feeling a familiar weight. He wouldn't take it. He wouldn't take it.
But he sure as hell couldn't leave it there for someone else to find. Not with what he knew about what V could do to a person, leave them sick or fucked up or dead.
Jason held it as tightly as he dared to without breaking it, and he began a surprisingly methodical, robotic search of areas of the compound where partiers were. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."