*he chuckles softly* yeah.. *he falls over in his seat with a soft ‘oof’*
Max? Max, talk to me, buddy. Are you still awake? *Carlos had to keep his eyes on the road, but he kept glancing at the rear-view mirror hoping to see Max sit up again.*
The generic Adrenaclick will cost $109.99 for two doses, compared with $649.99 for the same amount of drug in an EpiPen. That’s good news, both for financial and safety reasons: STAT reported last year that some parents and institutions had begun filling up syringes with epinephrine as a cost-cutting measure, a DIY solution that could pose great risk to the children who may have eventually needed injections. A more affordable alternative will help ensure safer epinephrine injections.
That’s assuming, though, that the people who need these devices know exactly what to ask for when they’re sitting in their doctors’ offices. Otherwise, they’ll still be stuck with the overpriced product. Here’s why: The mechanism by which Adrenaclick injects the drug is slightly different from EpiPen’s mechanism, so the Food and Drug Administration has ruled that the two are not therapeutically equivalent. That distinction is important because it means a prescription for an EpiPen cannot be filled with Adrenaclick. If you want the cheaper option, you have to have an Adrenaclick prescription.
You must ask your doctor for an Adrenaclick prescription!
I also found a coupon from Impax on 0.15mg and 0.3mg epinephrine injection, USP auto-injectors, which appear to be the generic version of Adrenaclick; these coupons cover up to $100 per pack for 3 packs of these injectors (6 total injectors).
Carlos made it to the workshop without incident. He supposed
everybody knew Hancock’s business was Hancock’s business. Once inside he
gathered up the blankets and some of the work cloths and started to make a sort
of bed in the corner. He’d been meaning to get a cot in there for when he
worked longer nights… he wished he’d done it already, but this would have to
do.
Carlos lay down and curled in on himself underneath his
labcoat. He spent a long time awake, just angry and unhappy with himself. There
were so many things he should have done… He should have done so much better.
Outside he could hear someone shouting. Some drifter being
thrown out of the Third Rail by Ham. Even further away there was gunfire –
probably from the Supermutant encampment. Carlos didn’t know when he fell asleep.
When Hancock woke the next morning, stiff and sore, he was disappointed to find he was still alone. Despite everything, how badly he’d screwed up, how upset Carlos had seemed, a part of him had still expected the other man to return. With a shaky sigh, the ghoul picked himself up of the floor, straightening his clothes out and composing himself enough to walk across the hall without drawing too much attention.
Back in his lounge, Hancock ordered the Watchmen outside not to let anyone but the scientist in then shut the doors behind him. Back in the privacy of his room–– and the bulk of his stash–– the ghoul broke into the chems again, dosing himself with a cocktail of drugs to keep his nerves at bay for a while then taking up a spot on the couch to sit and stare at the ceiling until Carlos came back….. if he came back.
Carlos woke from a dreamless sleep. He didn’t immediately feel any better. In fact, he was very disappointed that what happened last night hadn’t just been a dream. Dammit…
He started to sit up from his little ‘nest’. But suddenly, Carlos froze with a small yelp when his back ached in protest at the movement. Well, that wasn’t going to go away any time soon. His day was just getting better already. He finished sitting up and started to look for his Pip-Boy. But it wasn’t there.
Oh no… he left it in the Statehouse, didn’t he? He couldn’t go back for it. He wasn’t ready to face Hancock. He… he couldn’t. Hancock would see him and he might want to talk about it and Carlos… he just wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t know if he’d ever be ready. Right now, he was willing to leave his Pip-Boy out of his reach because he was just… he was scared. Besides, who said Hancock even wanted to see him after what happened? Carlos didn’t even want to be with himself.
He needed to work. He needed to do something – feel productive. Show that he was still somewhat useful, despite… despite how hard he fell last night. He got up and ignored the twinge of hunger in his stomach as he started to take apart one of the generators he had to work on and clean the parts.
Carlos quickly wiped at his face before he started to mop up the wet grease on his hand. His hands were shaking and he was trying not to appear too jittery. But with the time it was taking to clean his hands (and make sure Hancock’s beloved coat didn’t accidentally get stained) Carlos was starting to realize how it looked.
“I”m not trying to blow you off,” Carlos told Hancock quickly, still furiously wiping his hands clean. “I am legitimately worried about getting grease on your coat. Because, Han – I want you to know…“ Carlos glanced down at his hands. Eh… good enough.
He tossed the rag down before grabbing Hancock’s head and pulling him in for a hard, but adoring, kiss.
Hancock’s smile was wavering, even as Carlos spoke, he wasn’t entirely sure where this was going and he was afraid of what might happen when he finished. He was still stiff when the other pulled him in, taking a moment to process before responding, slowly relaxing and tentatively reaching out to place his hands on the other man’s hips as they kissed.
Carlos sighed softly through his nose and his hold on
Hancock softened a bit. He hummed, one of his hands sliding down to rest on
Hancock’s shoulder. He adored this man so much. He couldn’t really believe that
Hancock thought he was worth being devoted to, but… well, here they were.
Carlos was just going to have to learn to believe it, won’t he?
*he shifts slightly, looking out the window* I-I’m cold…
Try to stay awake, Max. Talk to me, okay? I’ll get you to a doctor soon and they’ll take care of you.
*he pulls the coat around himself tighter, shaking softly* i don’t th-the doctors…
What is it, Max? What do you want me to tell them?
tell ‘em to be less.. weird and creepy…
Weird and creepy…? *starts the car and starts driving*
*he nods, glancing at Carlos*
What exactly do you mean, Max? How are they being weird?
*he looks out the window again, mumbling something about ‘scary’*
I’ll be with you, Max, I promise. I’ll take care of you.
*he hesitantly nods* o-okay..
Keep talking to me, Max. We’re almost there.
h-how close are we..? *he shifts again*
Almost there. What do you like to do, Max? What do you like to read, or watch? *they weren’t actually as close as he’d like but he wanted to keep Max busy*
*he shakes his head slightly* i-i don’t watch or r-read alot of stuff.. mostly just vines.. b-but i like drawing i guess..
Okay. What did you draw recently? Can you tell me about that? *just five more minutes.*
t-the shadows.. things from m-my nightmares dreams…i-i don’t remember what else
You drew me recently, didn’t you? That was very nice of you. I like that picture. I still have it in my tent, safe.
The key wasn’t in the lounge area. Where the hell could it
be? Carlos was getting frustrated as he opened drawers only to find drug paraphernalia.
He was getting frustrated with himself and he coughed, trying to suppress
another fit of sobbing. Carlos sniffed.
This was fine. It would be fine. He could just head to the
attic and find a nice corner. Maybe the other drifters wouldn’t bother him…
No, that was stupid and he knew it. Any sign of weakness
shown to complete strangers and he was opening himself up to getting assaulted and
mugged – even if he didn’t have anything on him. As much as he thought he
deserved it… some part of him knew that he’d regret it in the future. Either
that, or it was scared. Yeah, sounded about right… too scared to face
consequences.
A fleeting thought went through Carlos’ head and, following
it, he patted at his pockets. He realized that below the lump the underwear
made in his pocket he felt something hard. Carlos scoffed, unhappy with the
discovery, and reached in to pull out the key. It was in his pocket the whole
damn time. He must’ve looked like a pathetic idiot with how he’d been looking for it.
Carlos groaned and scrubbed at his face hard with his hands.
Keep it together… just keep it together until he could find safety in his… the workshop. He’d deal with everything
tomorrow. He left the room and went down the spiral staircase. He realized that
Neighborhood Watch was looking at him, but he kept his head down and willed for
them not to talk to him or ask him anything.
Once it became obvious Carlos wasn’t coming back, Hancock gave in to his urges completely, going through every chem stashed in his room that he thought might help him calm down, along with a second bottle of whiskey. Eventually, the ghoul ended up slumped in the corner, head hanging low and bottle still in hand as he drifted off.
Carlos made it to the workshop without incident. He supposed
everybody knew Hancock’s business was Hancock’s business. Once inside he
gathered up the blankets and some of the work cloths and started to make a sort
of bed in the corner. He’d been meaning to get a cot in there for when he
worked longer nights… he wished he’d done it already, but this would have to
do.
Carlos lay down and curled in on himself underneath his
labcoat. He spent a long time awake, just angry and unhappy with himself. There
were so many things he should have done… He should have done so much better.
Outside he could hear someone shouting. Some drifter being
thrown out of the Third Rail by Ham. Even further away there was gunfire –
probably from the Supermutant encampment. Carlos didn’t know when he fell asleep.
