oh god I don't want to die

[feartoxin]

Who: Jon Crane and Harvey Dent
What: Heroin withdrawal is a bad thing.
Where: Wayne Manor to Gotham General

Comments

[harvey_twoface]

Harvey threw the door open, having found Jon's room despite the somewhat vague instructions. Panting heavily, Harvey braced himself on his knees, eyes flicking around the room at lightening speed, taking in every little detail until his gaze finally rested on Jon.

Dear God. Harvey rushed to Jon's side, taking him in his arms and studying his face, observing the pallor of his skin and the perspiration which coated his brow. And God he was shaking so violently.

Harvey seized the bedspread in one fist, intending to wrap Jon up in it, only to discover that it was covered in vomit.

Oh God oh my God what do I do? he thought desperately. Quickly he shrugged out of his jacket, throwing it over Jon and stooping to scoop him up into his strong arms

[feartoxin]

Jon was hurled into consciousness before his eyes opened, his head pounding from the concussion and from the misfiring neurons. Every muscle in his body ached and he felt his clothes sticking to him from sweat- no, that was arms, strong arms wrapped around him to protect him from the demon that continued to haunt him even in death.

His head lolled helplessly as Jon shook and shivered and sweated and nearly cried like a baby as whoever was carrying him barged through the doors of Wayne Manor. He got a vague impression of sunlight and Alfred's alarmed voice before being thrown down onto his back and the sound of a door slamming ushered him into incoherency.

Fuck he was slipping he was thrashing he was fading away.

[harvey_twoface]

Harvey brushed off Alfred's concerned questions with a few terse words, depositing Jon in the backseat of his Impala before jogging around to the other side, jumping in the front seat and starting the car before he'd even closed the door. Glancing once in the rear view mirror Harvey hit the gas pedal and sped out of the long, circular drive outside of Wayne Manor. He turned his head to look back to where Jon lay, huddled in Harvey's jacket, teeth chattering and eyes glazed and confused.

Shit shit shit Harvey thought agitatedly when he hit what seemed like his fifth stop light. He didn't fucking have time for this. After a few moments of waiting impatiently and tapping his horn, Harvey switched lanes and turned, taking an alternate route to the hospital

[feartoxin]

His heart pounded faster than possible and every part of him shook furiously when he realized he wasn't in those strong arms any more- but why? And who the fuck is this woman, he wondered and FUCK why did she fucking stab me with that fucking needle goddamn it fuck!

He lashed out furiously- in his fucking way he'd show her to stab him like that fuck- and grew more enraged when suddenly his fucking arm was bleeding and there was pain everywhere in his head and his arm and his legs.

Suddenly someone was holding him down and there was a needle in his arm again and he felt his limbs fall to his sides, full of lead. He shook and trembled and sweated and yelled things he couldn't hear at the person holding him down- the person with the strong arms- until he felt a needle and sweet relief swept over him, relief from the pain and the hunger and the need, and he slipped into sleep.