the here and now

1

Getting free of addiction does a few different things to you.

For one, it gets rid of your addiction.

It also makes everything around you a lot more clear. Like realising you might not've had to steal addictol from a murderous vendor if you'd seen the doctor's office first.

Either way, Lucy's alive, and (currently) not addicted to drugs. The only problem now is that she can't stop throwing up, and she figures she should consult what looks like the only medical professional left in town while she still can.

She heads across the limited streets of Freeside towards the building labelled G & H Services: Medicine, Bounties, & More, made with all different sized letters from the remains of Old World signs. She can't see anything - or anyone - through the boarded up windows, but she keeps one hand at the ready. If the last vendor was anything to go by, she'd rather be prepared than not.

A bell rings overhead as she pushes open the door. Before her is what looks like a small waiting room with rickety chairs and broken tables, fixed with duct tape and fashioned with pillows to sit on. Lucy gives just a hint of a grin at the effort made towards comfort, something rare in the Wasteland she's seen so far.

"Patient or client?" a voice says, and Lucy turns towards the desk, where a blond man in a white coat stands behind, leaning on the wood and looking at her through dirty glasses.

"Oh- Sorry, hello," Lucy greets first and foremost, walking towards the man. He raises an eyebrow as he watches her hold out her hand to shake, though keeping her other close to her hip. Hesitantly, he shakes it, noting the relief in how she holds herself at his friendly demeanor. She lets go and gestures outside, "I saw you offer medical attention."

"So, patient," the man sighs, taking off his glasses and wiping them off with his shirt. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, I'm... recovering from a drug addiction and I was wondering when I should stop throwing up?" Lucy asks, almost unsure of her question. The man chuckles as he puts his glasses back on.

"Depends on how," he says, looking at her again. "What'd you take?"

"Addictol." He nods, pushing off the desk to turn around and grab something off a shelf.

"Takes about an hour for all the side effects to wear off," he says, turning back and setting a bottle on the counter labelled PAINKILLERS. He puts a finger on top of the bottle, "Take one of these, it'll staunch the pain." Lucy tilts her head as she looks at the bottle, furrowing her brow.

"...Just like that?" she asks, cautious. He takes his finger off the bottle and holds up his hand.

"We offer services," he begins to explain. "We help those in need, within reason. If we need to charge, we do." He points at the painkillers, "You can pay for it, if you'd like, but seeing as you're new to drug addiction, I'll consider this a public service."

Lucy's eyes flit from the man to the bottle, suspicious at his seemingly giving personality. He sighs as he crosses his arms, leaning to the side against the wall and watching her with a curiosity one might have when watching TV. Seeing what she'll do, if she trusts him, if she'll try anything.

After a moment, Lucy snatches the bottle, opens it, and shakes one measly pill into her hand, keeping a watchful eye on the man behind the counter. She closes the bottle, sets it back down, and swallows the pill dry - an impressive feat in the hot Mojave weather.

"Better?" he asks, almost sarcastically, as he stands back up straight. She takes a moment to consider an answer before she nods, and he raises his eyebrows, "Well, now that that's over, is there anything else we can help you with?"