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Drift let his leg dangle over the edge of the observatory deck, smoke drifting from his servos before he took a slow drag. He could feel Magnus’s face twist into a disgusted expression.
“I haven’t used boosters or Syk or any of that since I gave it up all those years ago.”, he said in a deadpan, “In fact, after kicking that habit I used absolutely nothing until my exposure to the NCC.”
“Which means you never gave it up at all.”
“No, it simply means I found something to help me relax- not be so paranoid and anxious all the time. Something a little less likely to tip me over a bad edge than a prescription.”
“But-”
“No. no buts. You don’t know what this is like, Magnus. And that’s just a fact. What you see is an ex-junkie, right? Some one-time booster, a sykhead who’s just ‘moved on’ to something less dangerous, right?”, snapped Drift, optics narrow.
Magnus fell quiet.
“You probably have some theory about addictive personalities; or worse, some garbage about gateway usery.”, sighed Drift, flicking away something like ash before he took a drag again, “Let me tell you what my truth is- because this kind of situation doesn’t HAVE a universal truth. This isn’t a solve all things with one answer situation.”
Smoke coiled away from Drift’s vents as he paused a moment before continuing, “You don’t just… up and decide to try using boosters. It doesn’t strike you as one day to dose and see what happens- not unless you have a lot more money than I did back in the day. I started using what I did because, let’s face it, there was nothing FOR me in the gutters. In Rodion. Hell. My life was out of my hands, Magnus; and I wanted something I could control. Something that could make things not so bad. I wanted to be like other mechs, and be able to make myself feel okay. Not even happy, just okay.”
Magnus nodded, still silent.
“The drugs I was doing? Did just that. And my surroundings? Made it easier and easier. I started at rock bottom, Magnus. I took the only way up I could get.”
Magnus seemed to shrink, just a little. Just a lot.
“And then, things changed. There’s a realization you have, that deep in a hole you didn’t notice you were digging. And I tried to end it. Just obliterate it all. If I couldn’t have control over my life, then I was going to make damn sure a fragging chemical composition couldn’t have it either.”
Magnus looked away as Drift exhaled smoke again like a cloud.
“Ratchet tried to help me first. And thank Primus he did. And that was what started my way up. But it’s not what finished it. Ratchet didn’t ‘cure’ me, nor did he ‘save’ me from my addiction- but he showed me the means to save myself.”
Drift laughed then, low and gentle, “And then, surprisingly, Megatron cme into the picture. He gave me a goal, an escape- an escape I didn’t have to inject. An escape I didn’t have to buy with dirty money to steal away to a dirtier alleyway.”
“…And then?”, asked Magnus.
“And I saved a little more of myself. But, I went too hard, pushed myself to far; I teetered on a razor’s edge every day in constant fear that I’d slip and tumble back down into the hole I had dug.”
Magnus nodded.
“After that, came Wing, and the NCC. And they showed me things to do, to lessen the edge. Little escapes, and helped me trace out lines and boundaries for myself. My limits. How much I could drink before I was tempting fate; how much to smoke before I was in too deep and my hands would shake. They helped me learn control. And, again, I saved a little ore of myself.”
“And you changed your name back, correct?”
“Yes. I stopped being afraid of who I had been- I stopped being afraid of Drift. And then, came Perceptor. Came Rodimus. Then came others who were as gentle and happy as Gasket, people I could trust.”
“Then why do you still use?”
“This? This is no harsher or more dangerous than cygarettes. This is carefully measured by Perceptor, and cleared through Ratchet for medicinal use. This is a break from the day, a winding down like an after-shift cygar. This will be all I have for probably a week or two, maybe longer; Unless, of course, my anxiety gets bad, or my nightmares come back. In which case, I’ll no doubt go back to Ratchet, who will consult with Rung.”
Magnus nodded.
“And yes, I will call it meditation, because for me it is. For me, it’s a chance to breathe and reflect and simply exist for a little while. And then I go back to the world.”
Drift looked at Magnus, something aloof yet understanding in his eyes.
“I understand why you were defensive- but c’mon. You REALLY think I’d be able or willing to hide something like this? I know my limits, and I also know that there will always and forever be a chance I slip back all my steps and fall into that hole- the grave I dug in the Dead End. But I don’t live in a cemetery, anymore. I’m not around hopeless living corpses anymore. I’m saving myself, little by little, day by day- with help.”
Drift ground out the remains on the bottom of his pede, letting it all crumble into ash and old memories.
“With or without this, I am at risk of a relapse. That’s… just the way it is. But- Now I have reasons to want to stay clean, now I have others around me who can help me if I do the unthinkable and backslide.”
“But, what I do not understand is why not seek a prescribed form of medication? Surely it would assist you in a more…”
“One of the forever side effects of what I’ve done is that anything that strong again? Could ruin me. It’s entirely possible that a good-sparked idea, a prescription just to help me recharge? Could set me back years. Or, worse, it could just not work, due to a long standing tolerance to those kinds of substances, resulting in them having to increase the doses to levels that could cause a relapse.”
Magnus nodded, “I… think I understand. However, as acting Officer of the Tyrest Accord, I will be forced to make note of this… activity in your files.”
“Of course.”
“And I will be conversing with Ratchet, as well as Rung, about this.”
“Certainly. Ratchet has all the necessary measurements and substance lists, and Rung has the dosages in a double copy. Perceptor can give you all the information on the method.”
Magnus gave a short nod, “Very well then, as you were, TIC Drift.”
Drift gave a small salute, none of the stiffness of respect but the relaxation of some kind of trust.