Carlos rooted through the drawers, picking up inhalers he found and reading the label. Why did Addictol inhalers have to look like damn Jet inhalers?
But finally Carlos found one that was labeled Addictol and seemed to be full. Before he turned to get back to Hancock though he had mind enough to go to the cooler and grab a can of water as well.
Carlos came back, watching his feet so he didn’t step on something and hurt himself, before he knelt back beside the couch.
“Here, Han… some Addictol,” he said, offering it to the ghoul. “Do- do you need help taking it?”
Hancock began to drift off again as Carlos searched, eyes slipping shut as he tried to catch a few minutes of rest. When he began speaking again, the ghoul groaned and forced his eyes open again, looking up at him groggily.
“What….?” He asked softly, confusion on his face. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember why the other man wanted him to take something. He frowned and reached out for the inhaler, giving it a look before putting it to his lips and sucking in a dose of the medicine. Dropping it then, Hancock made another face and settled back down, unfocused eyes drifting back up to Carlos.
“Y’gonna stay with me? You’re not gonna leave me, right?”
Carlos watched Hancock take the Addictol. He took it like he was huffing Jet. Did he already forget what it was that Carlos got him? He reached to take the inhaler and ensure that it was empty when Hancock had looked at him.
Carlos felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Hancock was like this because of him. Obviously. This had Carlos wondering, again, if they should stay together in the long-term if he was going to just be a source of pain for Hancock.
But he really couldn’t make that decision now.
“I… I’ll stay with you, Han,” Carlos said. He took Hancock’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m going to help you feel better. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”






