Two pricks of the needle register late. The chem goes into effect first, adding weight to his outstretched arms and a blanket over his awareness. Misery does not abate, but Neil feels less inclined to do something about it.

Less and more. Alex holds his shoulders and stares hard, uttering words that start to make better sense as each second passes. Stay still, he can do. Stay awake, he can do. Swallow down the pain to the darkest recess of his awareness. Fuck, Neil can do that.

He doesn't know where that thought comes from. He doesn't really care to know. Instead, breath by breath, Neil lowers his arms and steadies his breathing. By trudging through the shit step by step, he slowly, carefully reaches a plateau.

All right, he thinks. All right.