I breathed in strongly through my nose as the metal door behind me got shut and locked, incarcerating me in whatever windowless cell this was. One hard white lamp shun from above and made my head hurt and my retinas burn as the drugs in my system throbbed through my veins.

I groaned and rolled over on the floor, squeezing my eyes shut as I felt my skin get bathed in the sweat my body was producing as a way of trying to excrete the poison from my system. My head pulsed like one big artery, feeling like it was swelling up inside my head. A high-pitched whistling sound kept ringing in my ears, along with the heavy throb in my temples.

I didn't know what the drug was or what it did, I didn't even know if it was fatal. All I knew was that my head was overwhelmed by the drug and that whatever it was, it was meant to torment me.

I rolled over on my hands and knees and tried to stop my brain from overcooking. I needed to gain control, I needed to focus...

"Ru... Russell..."

I opened my eyes and immediately swung my head to the thin mattress I hadn't noticed yet. It was shoved up against one of the walls. On top of it was... Amy.

"Russell..." Her voice was barely a hoarse whisper. She was naked, lying on her stomach, her skin bruised and her face beaten. She looked at me with weak eyes.

"Amy... No..."

"Y-you pushed me away..." She whispered, her eyes and skin so pale and lifeless. "You pushed me away to... protect me..."

"Amy, I'm so sorry..."

"They took me..." She closed her eyes, perhaps too tired to keep them open. "They took me a-and they raped me a-and its your fault..."

"Amy, please forgive me, I--"

"You shouldn't have slept with me. You could've kept me safe. This is all your fault. Because of you, they harmed me. Because of you... I'm dying."

"Amy!" I hastily crawled up to the pallet, collapsing when I got to it. The throb in my head was getting worse, pounding me. I reached out to her. "Amy, I'm so sorry..."

She disappeared. I looked down at the pallet. She wasn't there.

"Russell..."

I whipped around and now saw Amy being pressed up against the wall by Gustav. I hadn't heard him come in. He had his hand locked around her throat and his hips pushed against hers. She was still naked.

"You did this to me." She said, looking at me as Gustav begun taking roughly and forcefully up against the wall, her face staying as lifeless as ever. "You didn't protect me."

"No!" I roared and leaped for Gustav, fully intent on killing him with my bare hands, even though I wasn't in my right mind. But as I grasped for him, I collided with the wall, falling back against the floor with a heavy thump. She was gone again. They both were.

It was the drug. It was hallucinogenic. It was making me see things, it was twisting my reality.

"Russell..."

"No!" I said, rolling over onto my knees. I covered my ears and squeezed my eyes shut. "You're not there, you're not real..."

"You're shutting me out again... that's how I ended up here... you weren't there to protect me..."

"I was trying to protect you by making you stay away!" I roared, vigorously shaking my head. I needed to stop listening, I had to block everything out...

"But you didn't stay away... you came back because you were too weak... too weak to keep me safe..."

"I... I didn't come back for you..."

"Yes, you did. You missed me and when you heard me with Maddox, it hurt you. So when I came to you the next morning, you wanted to get me back and show me how love should really be. But instead you sacrificed my safety... for love. You are weak, Russell."

I was weak. I knew what love could do to a person, yet I had still let it happen. I had let myself lose control and that had resulted in Amy being...

I squeezed my eyes even more shut and suppressed a cry. God, what had I done...

"Why didn't you protect me, Russell? You thought leaving me alone was the safest thing for me?"

"I thought... I thought maybe Leon had put surveillance on you..." I whispered, sinking my head. "That after the break-in, he'd keep you monitored..."

"You think I'd help you after what you did to me?"

I whipped around and saw Leon leaned up against the wall. He looked miserable. His police badge was bended and almost broken, his name nearly scratched off. His attire was wrinkly and stained, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loosely, not tugged into his pants. His brown skin looked graying, his chin was unshaven. His short afro was untamed and his eyes were bloodshot and hollow. He held a cheep bottle of whiskey in his hand and he was barely standing on his feet.

"Leon..."

"You betrayed me," He said, glaring down at me with hurt in his eyes. "I trusted you. You told my wife about Vegas. You knew it was an accident, I was drunk. That woman kissed me and I was too drunk to stop it! You told Michelle and she left me... you ruined my marriage."

I gripped on to the roots of my hair and forced myself to look away. "It's not real, irs not real, it's not real..." Leon and Michelle were still together... my revelation hadn't hurt their marriage... I hadn't ruined them...

"I was your only friend, Russ. I was the only one who gave you a shot. I put up with your temper, I had your back and you betrayed me. Now Michelle is gone, she took my kids... Lea, Sara, JJ... gone. Some friend you are. I even stood by you through your divorce with Janelle, and now you're can't be there for me because you were the one who ruined my life..."

I roared and squeezed my head, shaking it even more. "Stop it!"

Suddenly there was rustling outside the door. I heard the lock go, and when I faintly looked up, I saw Vahlov standing there. He was smirking grimly at me. "Enjoying your meds, Detective?"

I just hissed at him and squeezed my eyes shut. I had dealt with stronger drugs than this one, I could pull through this one, too.

"Well, in any case, we thought you might like some company. It's an old friend of yours, it's been a few years, but I'm sure you still remember her."

Her?

I looked up as a guard showed up in the frame of the door, and then he pushed inside a woman. She stumbled inside with her hands locked behind her back and then the door was locked firmly again.

I stared, mortified. "Janelle?"

My ex-wife looked at me with her strong amber eyes through her brown lashes. "Did you finally find the mystery you were looking for?"

I shook my head. No... Not her, not Janelle. She couldn't be here, how could they have--

"Do you love her more than you loved me? Do you think sleeping with her will mend the damage you inflicted upon yourself, by screwing things up with me?"

It was the drug again. She wasn't really here, she was just a hallucination.

I turned away and roared into the cell, the vibration of my voice booming against the concrete walls and floors. I squeezed my hands over my ears again, trying to block out the voices. The only problem was, the voices were in my head.

"You loved me, Russell and I loved you. So much. But you couldn't even leave your work long enough to commit. You nearly died, remember? Because you couldn't stop. Your assignment, two years ago; The military contacted you personally because of the national threat..."

"Stop it... don't talk about it..."

"A terror threat was made, the daughter of a high-standing person was captured and used as a bargaining ship; Hand over the commanding chief in charge of protecting military secrets, or she died."

"Don't, please... don't bring it up..."

"You were supposed to figure out where she was being held captive, based on the video they sent, and you did. You found the place and you found the girl..."

"Stop it!"

"How old was she, Russell? Seven? Eight? What would she have been today?"

"STOP!" I roared, hyperventilating. "I know I screwed up! I KNOW!"

"You ignored their threats about how they would kill her if anyone but the commanding chief turned himself over at the mentioned location. But you couldn't resist, could you? You went in his place so you could show how magnificent you were, so you could brag to them about your brilliant deductions that led you to their actual location - the location that the military was about to storm."

I felt my head throb heavier and heavier for each word my ex-wife spoke. Her voice was as clear as crystal.

"You thought your little stunt would distract them. That making them think they were getting the commanding chief would make them forget about watching the little girl. But they didn't. They killed that little girl because you were there. And remind me, how did they kill her again?"

"Don't... I'm so s-sorry..."

"A bomb. They blew her up into pieces. Her parents buried an empty casket because there weren't even as much as two adjoining limbs, but the military still put an honorary Purple Heart on you for finding the terrorists hideout and helping them defeat a national threat. The commanding chief and the military secrets were safe, but that little girl died."

My eyes were burning with tears I didn't even know I had the ability or heart to produce anymore, but then again... I didn't know who I was anymore.

"You tell yourself each day; 'people die'," My ex-wife's voice coldly continued inside my head, "But that day... she didn't die. You killed her. You wear her blood on your hands each day and no amount of drugs or alcohol will make you forget that. Now you're trying make up for what you did that day by rescuing this little girl. You think you'll succeed in that? How is it going so far, Detective?"

I couldn't listen to it anymore. The drug was overpowering my brain, but one percent was still mine to control. And that was all I needed.

I stuck two fingers down my throat and retched everything I had inside me out onto the floor. I went once, twice, thrice. Then I gurgled some smaller ones up. Eventually, I could feel the throb in my head lighten, even if only a little. What I really needed was a splash of cold water and an IV drip, but I doubted Vahlov took any prison requests. I had to make due with simply throwing up as much as the drug as I could and it actually helped a little.

I then crawled over to the mattress and nestled myself on my left side in the classic recovery position which allowed my breathing to get better. I then rested, chanting the same thing over and over in my head again, until I drowned out all the other voices. It was a poem by Gerard Nolst Trenité called The Chaos. I had memorized it for situations like these where I couldn't control my brain. It was the perfect distraction and it gave me time to figure out my next move.

~~~

"Wakey, wakey, Detective. Are you ready to talk some more?"

I opened my eyes to the sound of the Russian words and was instantly wide away. The drug has left my system, my head was clear. I was ready.

Vahlov's dogs pulled me to my feet and clamped a pair of handcuffs around my wrists behind my back, then led me out of the prison cell, down a couple corridors. My mind had never been more awake, more lucid. Finally they pushed me into the same room as earlier, and just like earlier, they shoved me to my knees in front of a chair where Vahlov was sitting comfortably.

"Detective," Vahlov greeted me in flat Russian, of course. "How are you feeling? Did you enjoy your medication?"

"As a matter of fact I did," I replied back in smooth English. "It was quite helpful, I must say."

"Helpful?" Vahlov questioned and lifted a brow. "How so?"

"It made me realize how stupid I've been."

"Oh?"

"I've been blind," I said, meeting Vahlov's eyes. "The evidence was right there in front of me and I never saw it. But now I do."

"What was?" Vahlov's unconsciously switched to English and his voice was getting angrier. I also noticed his nostrils flared. He didn't like not being in the know.

"All the signs where there, I can't believe I was so narrow-sighted..."

"Tell me what it is you think you have discovered or be dosed up with another shot!" Vahlov growled furiously, slamming his hand into the table.

"By all means, please do, that's how I figured it out," I said, looking at him. "You are well aware I'm an ex-drug addict, otherwise you wouldn't have chosen drugs as your method of torture. You have more than enough men at your disposal to give me a hard, long suffering death, but giving me drugs would be much, much more satisfying, wouldn't it? To see me crave the next shot, have me begging at your feet for the next fix..."

"Get to your point." Vahlov sneered. He was grinding his molars, but signs of perspiration around his temples showed he feared what I had discovered. And he should. It would be his downfall.

"Well, by being an ex-drug addict, you then must know that I had a far different relationship with drugs than other people," I said, tilting my head to one side. "I don't use them for the rush - or well, I do - but that's only part of it. I find my head gets clearer whenever I use drugs to help with my cases. The only sad thing is you get addicted eventually, so I stopped, but I digress. The thing is," I said, taking a breath "The hallucinogenic drug you gave me isn't an addictive one. It's just a drug that's designed to mess with your head and bring out your demons."

"Last warning, Detective."

"But you failed to realize - and don't feel bad about it, it took me some time to realize, too - that I could also discover your demons, Vahlov."

Vahlov leaned back in his chair and watched me with dark eyes. He didn't say anything, just kept glaring. I took it as a sign to continue.

"The thing about drugs is that when you've tried a lot of them, they all blur together as one. I learned to use drugs in my past to help me see things clearer, and today, once I started seeing the ghosts from my past and they started talking to me, I realized they were also bringing up some things I had been trying to suppress. In other words; They helped me realize a few things I never thought I would."

"So you managed to 'shrink' yourself by talking to manifestations your brain concocted while on a powerful hallucinogenic drug?" Vahlov now countered with a dry scoff. "Maybe that drug was too powerful, after all. You sound mad, Detective."

"On the contrary, it gave me just what I needed," I said, dragging a smirk to my lips. "I've always believed that my own company was the best, and as of today, I've proved it. For while talking to my ghosts, ergo myself, I came upon a discovery. Your drug helped me win this war between us, so I should thank you, Vahlov. You gave me the last aid I needed to see things clearer. I was sober and you gave me a fix."

"This has gone on for long enough." Vahlov snarled. "Either spit it out or find yourself burning in the flames of hell!"

"In that case, I suppose I'll see you soon," I smirked. "For you, Vahlov, are terminally ill."

• • •

Amazing what your brain can do on drugs. But seriously; Stay away from them.