My name is Rebecca Harris and I can testify that the side effects of NZT coupled with a bullet wound to the shoulder make for a rather unpleasant night.

Brian had said to go to the hospital, but the remnants of NZT coursing through my veins showed me that I simply couldn't. When the NZT wore off completely, the side effects would kick in and it sure as hell wouldn't do to be stuck in ER when that happened. I wasn't supposed to be using NZT.

So I went home, staggered into my apartment and barely closed the door behind me before I stumbled into the bathroom. It wasn't pretty. My shoulder throbbed and burned. Had those stitches come out? A quick glance made my head spin wildly but it confirmed that Brian's needlework was up to scratch. The tissue trauma was finally catching up to me. The agony threw me onto the cold tiles and I lay there, panting for breath and fighting for consciousness.

Just as my vision began to fade into blackness, the sudden appearance of a tall, dark figure hovering over me. I screamed. Sands. Even through the blurred vision I could make out that taunting leer, those creepy white teeth. How had he got himself out of custody?

But then I blinked and he was gone.

Hallucinations. Brilliant.

And then I was hunched over the toilet again, my stomach doing somersaults. The force of the retching made my shoulder throb even more painfully and I was back on the tiles. My bathroom ceiling drifted in and out of focus. I was probably making terrible moaning noises.

At some point I must have passed out, because I woke up to a familiar, fair-haired figure hovering by my side. His hand was supporting my head and he smiled when I opened my eyes. Brian.

"You're doing great," he whispered. "I know you're in agony, but you're being so brave. Hang in there."

"I much prefer this hallucination," I mumbled, right before I was overcome with another bout of nausea and sat bolt upright to reach over the toilet bowl. The sudden movement sent fire shooting through my shoulder. Brian rubbed my back gently, then lowered me slowly back to the ground. I relaxed fractionally, and the darkness overtook me again.

Later, I awoke in my bed. The worst of the side effects seemed to have worn off, and I was left with a slight headache and a throbbing shoulder. I slowly pushed myself into a seated position and glanced at my bedside table. There stood a glass of water and two tablets of ibuprofen in their foil packaging. I thought Brian had been a hallucination. Clearly not.

I swallowed the painkillers and eased myself out of bed. The rest of the apartment was deserted. Rubbing a hand to my temple, I collapsed onto my couch, trying to make sense of what had happened last night. That's when I noticed the envelope on the coffee table, marked with my name in a lazy scrawl.

Rebecca -

Hope you're feeling better. Sorry I had to dash. Call me if you need anything.

See you around,

Brian