There was a weak nod from Connor as his eyes flickered restlessly over the road in front of them. "Nausea? I could definitely go for something for that." He tried to laugh, but it was weak and came out more as a grunt. "Have you ever thrown up so much you weren't sure how you had anything left to throw up? I'm pretty sure I'm at that point right now. I haven't eaten. Still keep throwing up." His fingers were wrapped tightly around the package of Valium, the other hand clenched around the strap of his messenger bag, and he felt like he might just die, just right here like this if his fucking heart didn't stop beating so damn fast. "You don't believe me that I'm not high, do you?" he asked, but without even looking at Chase. "You think I'm doped up. I'm not. Fuck knows I wish I were, but I'm not. I don't think there's anything strong enough anyway." He couldn't be sure at that point if he was even talking to Chase, or just to himself, or simply trying to make sure he was still alive by virtue of hearing himself talk.
At Chase's question, Connor stopped his rambling stone cold, and turned to look at Chase in disbelief before he literally started laughing. In a stark contrast to his failure to laugh only moments earlier, at this point, he couldn't stop the laughter, and he was pretty sure that Chase thought he'd gone full on mental health patient up in this business. "Doctor-patient confidentiality is tricky and you know it as well as I do," Connor replied, when he finally stopped laughing long enough to breathe, a ridiculous, frightening, and entirely out of place grin still on his face. "All they have to do is subpoena you, and you'd have to break it. Besides that, doesn't the fact that you and I have both been balls deep in each other in the last week kind of make them frown on you having any sort of medical relationship with me anyway?" This stuff was easy. Facts. Cold hard facts and laws and rules of life and society. Connor got those things. He understood them well. But this wasn't one of those things at all, and he felt so sick inside that it was ridiculous. "But what the hell... If I go to jail, I go to jail. It's pretty well expected at this point. But no. I didn't... exactly murder anyone."
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At Chase's question, Connor stopped his rambling stone cold, and turned to look at Chase in disbelief before he literally started laughing. In a stark contrast to his failure to laugh only moments earlier, at this point, he couldn't stop the laughter, and he was pretty sure that Chase thought he'd gone full on mental health patient up in this business. "Doctor-patient confidentiality is tricky and you know it as well as I do," Connor replied, when he finally stopped laughing long enough to breathe, a ridiculous, frightening, and entirely out of place grin still on his face. "All they have to do is subpoena you, and you'd have to break it. Besides that, doesn't the fact that you and I have both been balls deep in each other in the last week kind of make them frown on you having any sort of medical relationship with me anyway?" This stuff was easy. Facts. Cold hard facts and laws and rules of life and society. Connor got those things. He understood them well. But this wasn't one of those things at all, and he felt so sick inside that it was ridiculous. "But what the hell... If I go to jail, I go to jail. It's pretty well expected at this point. But no. I didn't... exactly murder anyone."