Part one

It was one of those nights where one would think and feel like they were sleeping, but be acutely aware of anything and everything that was going on around them. Movements, though slightly louder in any quiet room, seemed to amplify like mallets against massive drums, and smells would heighten because it was almost as if they were right under ones nose.

His stomach churned and rolled, making a loud noise in protest over the abuse it took the night before. Though he knew it was probably impossible, he still felt as though he could be sick again at any moment. Despite feeling he couldn't move, human reaction forced his head to the side and pushed him to hover his face over the edge of the couch. Tony heaved, choked and spit into the pail which Rhodey placed there for him hours before.

"Here." Rhodey spoke, putting a glass of water into Tony's hands for him. "Drink it."

( "We lie the loudest when we lie to ourselves." -- Eric Hoffer )