Beckett hummed to himself as he plopped different kinds of alkaline metals in the water and delighted in the small flames and explosion he coaxed from the water.

Artemis and Myles worked together, Artemis explaining the need for certain safety procedures and equipment.

After a short time, Myles interrupted him, “What’s wrong?”

Hands halting at the question, Artemis asked, “What makes you think anything is wrong?”

Myles fiddled with the tale of his lab coat, “When you were talking to dad, something was wrong.”

“It’s nothing,” was Artemis’ immediate reply. That was another thing, Artemis had never called his father dad, had never been allowed. He didn’t know what to do with that, but it made his chest hurt.

Myles’ curious voice cut through his thoughts, “Mam and dad are always away now, do you think we did something wrong?”

Artemis felt like a horse had just kicked him in the chest. Christ. “No, of course not. It’s not your fault, it’s not Beckett’s either. They just…” Artemis fumbled for words, “They get distracted.”

The excuse sounded hollow to his ears.

Myles considered this, “What if I really impress them… will they…”

Artemis felt his throat tighten up, the train of thought was horribly familiar, and one that his younger self had clung to many a time. Myles was wondering if impressing his parents might get him some attention.

Although, the attention Myles was used to tended to be more substantial. Artemis would haven been lucky, when he was younger, even to see his father, let alone to be graced with a few short words and perhaps eye contact. Myles was used to genuine interactions with parents who cared, something that had been almost entirely alien to Artemis until he was thirteen.

Artemis shifted, feeling inadequate, “You don’t need to impress them, they love you, they’re just busy.”

Myles nodded, sulkily.

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The next few hours were painful for Artemis, who had never before wished so much to be less sober. His parents had been worse lately, it was affecting his brothers and on top of that, Artemis really wasn’t in any fit state to be looking after anyone but himself. He tried his best, regardless. Sure, he could delegate to one of the twins’ tutors, but the last thing his brothers needed right now was to be palmed off to somebody, considering what Myles had said.

Plus, Juliet had asked for the weekend off because, despite what some people thought, she had a life.

Artemis had been fine, for a while. But the panic had apparently chosen today to boil over, starting slow but building to something far less manageable. Memories of that night wisped closer, without his notice at first.

It was then that Artemis decided to take a pill to calm himself, he would not allow the twins to see him have a panic attack. He left them in the garden for a minute and stole away to the hallway, where his luggage was left, forgotten.

He deliberated to take a quarter of the pill. The results were favourable, he was calm and a lazy sort of giddy. The twins were at ease once the visible tension Artemis carried crumbled away.

That was how Artemis came to realise that being on these pills might be the only thing that could keep him balanced. Balanced was good, it was functional.

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On the first night, Artemis awoke from sleep in a sweat, his skin crawling where he could still feel James’ hands. He cried whilst he rocked, curled up in a ball.

He didn’t know why he did it, he just knew it was to much. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he bit down, drawing blood and enjoyed a few moments peace while the pain silenced his mind.

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Butler was concerned, Artemis could tell. After taking a quarter of a pill, his usually sharp mind was foggy, slow to react, and it showed.

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The second night was somehow worse than the first. Artemis sat bolt right up in bed from, breathing heavily. He lay there for the rest of the night, confused, aroused and scared.

Why was he reacting like this?

He shouldn’t... He didn’t want it but his body apparently didn’t get the memo.

He felt disgusting. What was wrong with him?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

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He couldn’t look anyone in the eye during breakfast. He wasn’t hungry either. Five spoonfulls, so no one would notice. After that, he surreptitiously scooped the rest into the bin.

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Artemis was jolted out of his thoughts by Butler, “-temis? Artemis?”

Artemis tore his eyes away from the window, his voice distant and words slightly slurred, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Butler frowned. “You seem… off, worse than last week. Artemis, please, tell me what’s going on. Do we need to call Dr Argon?”

No, Argon would notice something. He couldn’t…

If he said anything, Butler would only blame himself. It was his own fault anyway. It wasn’t anything terrible, he had actually gotten… aroused yesterday from a nightmare, so… He didn’t know, maybe he wanted it? He was just being dramatic. And fucking disgusting. “It’s nothing Butler.”

Butler sighed, “Artemis, I know something’s happeni-”

Artemis came as close to raising his voice to Butler as he ever had, “Can you just leave it alone.”

Silence. Then, “Very well, sir.” Butler said, resigned.

Artemis regretted it instantly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout, I just meant… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Butler took one hand off the wheel and laid it on his shoulder, “It’s alright.”

Artemis relaxed.

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Butler sat in the car and thought after he had dropped off Artemis.

He hadn’t seen Artemis in such a state in quite some time, so empty and brittle. Butler was convinced that Artemis was losing weight, he looked gaunt and paler than usual. There were other things Butler found amiss too, his uniform was in disarray, his eyes were blood shot, he was constantly groggy, he was… absent in his own body. And Butler hated to mention it but… had Artemis been showering less?

Then there was Artemis’ outburst just now. It was so unlike his charge to raise his voice, and the boy had never done so to Butler.

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Artemis floated through classes, taking increasing doses of the pills. His teachers were picking up on the changes, but it was so hard to care. Kieran knew something wasn’t right, but he didn’t push. It was on Tuesday morning that Artemis ran out of Xanax. Artemis didn’t think anything of it until the evening when he was pacing in his room.

He felt on edge and his palms were sweaty, but it was fine. Then came the feeling of being trapped in his own skin, like latex squeezing him. It only worsened as the night wore on.

Artemis didn’t sleep. Fuck, he couldn’t sleep, and he could feel a horrible pressure on his eyes. He just lay in bed and breathed his way through constant barrages of panic and intrusive thoughts.

If I keep going on like this, I won’t sleep at all tonight. How am I going to tell Butler about all this? Why would I anyway, it was my fault and enjoyed it anyway. Slut. I’m disgusting. I don’t want them to know. I’m… dirty.

His heart felt as if it were pulsing in his stomach, making him feel sick.

He tapped his leg five times and felt a small relief. The next hour was spent obsessively organising the room, in fives where he could. He touched everything in the room five times.

He was worse than he had been before. It was withdrawal, he knew. The word didn’t seem to fit right, associated with addiction and dependence. He wasn’t dependent, he just… would prefer to be taking the pills.

He didn’t need to see Dr Argon; he was fine now. He was fine.

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Class was surreal, something was different, it felt like a dream or a drama he was watching from a distance. Nothing felt real, it didn’t look real either. Everything mattered less when he was like this, it was probably a long dream. He didn’t engage in class, or even answer teachers when spoken to, he was given three detentions by lunch time.

He just tapped the desk in fives. Kieran might have asked if he was okay, Artemis didn’t remember answering.

Artemis split off from Kieran at break and scanned the corridor, striding forward when he spotted Tom closing his locker.

“Hi.” Artemis said.

Tom looked up, “Hey, physics guy, right?”

Artemis inclined his head, “That would be me. It’s Artemis by the way.”

Tom nodded, “Artemis, that’s it, I was trying to remember. What can I do for you?” Tom asked with a smirk because he already knew why Artemis was here. Artemis was painfully aware of how obvious it was.

Artemis floundered, unsure how to word this, “I… The thing you gave me last week, could-”

Tom cut him off, amused and led him to an empty classroom, “You sure finished them off fast. How many do you want?”

Artemis thought about it, “Twenty.”

Tom reached in his bag, “That’ll be three euros a pop, so sixty euros.” He produced plastic bags filled with the white pills. Money exchanged hands and Artemis took the bags with fumbling fingers.

Tom eyed his shaking hands and seemed to sober up, he couldn’t meet Artemis eyes again. Tom almost seemed… guilty. “Are you okay?” Tom asked, “It isn’t a great idea to be on these when you’ve got shit going on.”

Artemis looked up, surprised, “I’m fine.” He parroted.

Tom’s eyes narrowed, “I won’t judge you… I mean, I’m not the greatest person, I won’t care.” He shrugged.

Later, Artemis wouldn’t understand why he did it. The truth was, nothing seemed real enough for him to care and he was too delirious to remember why he shouldn’t talk. “I can’t get it out of my head. I can still feel his hands…”

Tom stayed quiet, listening.

Artemis stared at the wall, “Was my fault anyway.” He mumbled, “Shouldn’t have stayed.”

When it became clear Artemis wouldn’t say anything more, Tom said, “It probably wasn’t- your fault I mean.”

Artemis shrugged. Hearing that from someone was… odd. Nice, but really, it didn’t matter. Tom didn’t know anything about him.

Tom shifted, “You should probably tell someone about that. You… might need help.”

Artemis felt something freeze in his chest at the idea, “No, I’m fine.”

Tom crossed his arms, “People say that a lot. I don’t mind, it was just advice.”

Artemis walked out.

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His hand trembled as Artemis took a pill dry. He was fine.