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I came to him sobbing, hyperventilating, barely able to breathe. My legs were shaking and I couldn’t stand up without leaning on something.
He took me inside, one arm around my waist, the other reaching for a syringe and an inhaler, and guided me upstairs to the room with two couches. I collapsed onto one and curled up into a ball, holding myself and shutting my eyes tightly.
“Hey, you’re okay,” he whispered, flicking the syringe and pushing excess air out of it. “Everything’s gonna be fine, don’t worry. I’m here.”
I whimpered and shifted away from him at the sight of the needle, eyes now wide with fear.
“Hey, hey, hey, I know you hate these,” the ghoul murmured, setting the syringe down on the table in front of me. “Take a second to catch your breath, I’m not doing anything until you’re ready, I promise.”
I tried to calm myself down, but after a minute I still felt like I was drowning in fear. My lungs refused to take in enough air and my eyes refused to see what was in front of me. Scenes flashed before me, unwarranted and unwanted, and as much as I desperately hoped they would subside, they did not.
“You ready?” he asked, picking up the syringe slowly. I managed to force my eyes to focus enough to read: Med-X. Still utterly terrified and unable to calm myself any more, I nodded quickly and tightened my leg muscles to prepare for the pain.
“Okay, sweetheart, I’m gonna do this real slow.” The ghoul’s dry hands felt soft, but my skin burned where he touched me, grazing over my forearm before bringing the tip of the needle to hover over the skin.
“Close your eyes,” he muttered. I whimpered and shut my eyes as tightly as I could. I felt a small pinch and cringed, knowing exactly what was happening despite not seeing it. Closing my eyes had never helped me, but I always did in the hopes that it might be preventing me from an even worse experience.
It stung when the needle slid out of my arm, and his fingertips seemed to burn me again when he pressed over the injection site. Silent tears rolled down my face.
“I know,” he said so gently in that rough, ghoulish voice. “It’s all over now, it’s done. You’re okay.”
As soon as I heard the empty, discarded syringe hit the wooden table, I let out a sob and wrapped my arms around the man’s body, curling up as close to him as I could.
“ John …”
He shushed me, threading fiery fingers through my hair and burning my scalp with his touch.
“I’m here,” he whispered. “When you start to feel the pain go away, let me know. I have some Jet here for you. It’ll take your mind off things.”
I nodded and sniffled, then wiped my nose on my arm.
“I think… I think it’s working,” I told him quietly.
“Go ahead,” he said, then smiled gently. He picked up the inhaler from the table and handed it to me.
Once my breath had begun to steady, I brought the object to my lips and breathed in the chemicals as deeply as my lungs would allow before coughing violently.
The ghoul rubbed my back to reassure me, then leaned back to rest lengthwise on the drab couch. I crawled over to lie between his body and the pillows.
Within seconds the Jet hit me like a wave; everything seemed to slow down, from my breathing to my thoughts to the very world around me, and the Med-X was beginning to noticeably numb the stinging pain that scalded my skin and radiated throughout my body.
He traced patterns across my back under my shirt, and this time his hands left no burns. It nearly tickled, but was just soft enough to be calming. Between the ghoul’s fingers across my skin and the chems, my eyes felt as if they were being pulled shut by some invisible weight.
“ Thank you, John …”
The ghoul laughed quietly to himself. “There’s no need to thank me. Get your rest and we’ll talk in the morning.”
As reality melded into the dark and my body became weightless, I thought I heard the near-silent sound of a syringe being emptied into someone’s veins. Underneath my head, I felt the man’s chest rise and fall once more in a familiar, blissful sigh before I finally drifted off to sleep.