oh god I don't want to die
Who: Jon Crane and Harvey Dent
What: Heroin withdrawal is a bad thing.
Where: Wayne Manor to Gotham General.
Jon dropped the phone without hanging it up, shaking violently. He had been ignoring the rising symptoms of withdrawal for a day now, content to ride horses for the first time and eat good food and indulge in the world's greatest fucking library. But the conversation with De- with Harvey rattled him, shook his control and made him break into a cold sweat that wrapped its hands around his neck.
Fuck Crane. Fucking Doctor Jonathan fucking Scarecrow I-wish-someone-would-finally-love-me Crane. Could never leave anything alone, could never let anyone be happy, couldn't possibly let his cloned freak of a man-child grow and develop normally, NO. Had to tinker with his mixtures of acid and fear toxin, E and ketamine and methamphetamines. Had to give him, Jon, heroin mixtures before he could use complete sentences.
He attempted to close his laptop properly, the tremors shaking his arms too much to be useful. He tried to tidy himself in an attempt to quell the rising panic, but he couldn't even put his glasses on without doubling over in pain just behind his eyes. He began to vomit on his bed and tried to go for the door- he had to leave had to get back to the lab had to have more he had to he didn't want to die- but tripped and fell, hitting his head on the edge of the foot board.
What: Heroin withdrawal is a bad thing.
Where: Wayne Manor to Gotham General.
Jon dropped the phone without hanging it up, shaking violently. He had been ignoring the rising symptoms of withdrawal for a day now, content to ride horses for the first time and eat good food and indulge in the world's greatest fucking library. But the conversation with De- with Harvey rattled him, shook his control and made him break into a cold sweat that wrapped its hands around his neck.
Fuck Crane. Fucking Doctor Jonathan fucking Scarecrow I-wish-someone-would-finally-love-me Crane. Could never leave anything alone, could never let anyone be happy, couldn't possibly let his cloned freak of a man-child grow and develop normally, NO. Had to tinker with his mixtures of acid and fear toxin, E and ketamine and methamphetamines. Had to give him, Jon, heroin mixtures before he could use complete sentences.
He attempted to close his laptop properly, the tremors shaking his arms too much to be useful. He tried to tidy himself in an attempt to quell the rising panic, but he couldn't even put his glasses on without doubling over in pain just behind his eyes. He began to vomit on his bed and tried to go for the door- he had to leave had to get back to the lab had to have more he had to he didn't want to die- but tripped and fell, hitting his head on the edge of the foot board.