It was less like waking up then it was an abrupt shift from darkness into light. He gasped, head jerking as he instinctively tried to scramble upright, but he was foiled by a sharp stab of pain stealing the strength from his limbs.
He couldn’t remember last night—the whole thing was covered in a darkly familiar haze. “Oh, no,” he groaned.
“Are you finally coherent?” an exasperated voice asked from behind him, and he drew his head backwards. Chrysalis was sitting against his bed, a bored expression on her face. “Took you long enough.”
“You were here… the whole time?” he coughed.
She nodded slightly. “And such an entertaining time it was,” she said with a roll of the eyes. “Really, the agony was wonderful to watch.”
Bold attempted to stand again, succeeding this time. “Was it bad?” he rasped as he hobbled over to the kitchen.
“Of course it was,” she snapped. “Because a Venom overdose is ever anything but bad!”
“Venom?” He’d never heard that street name.
She said nothing, and after a moment he shrugged and slowly filled a cup with water, drinking it gratefully. A second cup, then a third, recieved the same treatment, and only then did he step away, feeling slightly refreshed.
There was an awkward silence, until Chrysalis said abruptly, “How much do you have?”
“What?”
“How much?” she demanded.
Gingerly, he returned to the bedroom, grasping the paper bag with the slightest tendril of magic. Holding it as far away as possible, he peered into its depths. “Looks like… half a bottle, and three vials of morphine left.”
“Hoof me a vial,” she said.
He floated one over to her, and as she pressed it to her neck and depressed the plunger, she continued, “We’re going to need to get more Venom, then—and a lot of it.”
“Why? I’m never touching the stuff again,” Bold said with a shudder.
“Bit late for that,” she said with black humor. “You said it was your second overdose, and I’m quite experienced with the… aftereffects of Venom. Two of those, and you’re hooked forever. If you don’t take regular doses, withdrawal will kill you.” She snorted. “And now, you’ll have to take some every day for the rest of your life—meaning that that little half-bottle is going to run out quickly. You’re going to need as much as you can get.” She paused. “There’s no time to waste, as well—I happen to know that the supply is about to dry up completely.”
Bold asked, “How do you know so much about this?”
She scoffed. “Isn’t it obvious? Venom is—was—produced, refined, and distributed entirely by changelings. A little side project to keep funds flowing. But now, there aren’t any more changelings to produce it. They’re all dead.” She stood, the remnants of her horn sparking. “Which means no more Venom. If you don’t get more, you’ll die, and I can’t have that.”
Bold smiled weakly. “That’s… not welcome news. You’re sure about the aftereffects?”
She nodded.
He sat down abruptly. “Buck. I’m so screwed. I’m out of money for at least another month.”
She shrugged fluidly. “Then you’ll just have to steal it.”
He stared, utterly flabbergasted. “Steal drugs? From a supplier? You can’t be serious.”
She shrugged again, rolling her eyes. “It’s that or die. Your choice.”
"That is death! And a painful one at that..."
She said nothing, only stared at him levelly.
“…Buck.”