May 16, 2007 23:12
Amphetamines. Forty-five milligrams of goddamn Dexedrine. In his coffee. Wilson had never seriously wanted to kill House but right now he was pretty sure he really did.
His head was throbbing worse than he could ever recall it doing before. His mind was still racing and his heart rate was still a bit off even though fatigue was setting in. His pupils hadn't returned to proper dilation yet, either, so he closed his office door, pulled the blinds shut and turned off the lights. He also unplugged his phone and silenced the ringer on his cell; he was in no fit state to deal with patients. Or anyone else, really.
At least, Wilson thought as he flopped onto his couch, I didn't get to the point of amphetamine psychosis. He'd never been a fan of hallucinating and he certainly didn't want to be doing it at work.
!roleplay,
~cameron