The last time Chick's life flashed before his eyes he was run off the road by a Dually and the song "September" was playing on the radio as his wheels flew off the asphalt. Trouble had been chasing him, and caught up with him. He woke up in a place he didn't know, his only company being a car that shouldn't be in mint condition and empty streets. Weeks later the first people that he met was a group of government agents, one of which he would become very close to. This time he had been stranded from anyone he knew, trying to find a phone to make a call for help with a broken hand and an eye that he couldn't see out of due to what he hoped was only his own blood from a head wound. His attacker ran at him as he tried to make a phone call for assistance, and everything went red as Chick blocked a blow with his weak arm and sent a haymaker back at his assailant.

Chick didn't know how he got to where he was. A ceiling fan spun above him twirling the cool air over him in gentle waves. The room spun gently with each wave that came down on him, a familiar but concerning feeling rising in the back of his mind. Chick craned his head slowly around, taking note he was in fresh clothes and uncovered. Slowly pulling his head to a table near him a cup caught his eye for a moment, focusing and realizing it wasn't a cup but a bottle of pills with letters that were too blurry to read. Dread crept into the recovering man's mind ever faster as he began to recognize symptoms brought on by a needle full of what he once thought of as warm bliss. A familiar voice called gently from inside the room near him, tapping the bottle as a white cloud descended over him. "It's Opana. They wanted to give you Buprenorphine due to your history but I told them you weren't a risk for a relapse. If you are the BHA will get you Bupes to help recover." Grey stripes burst through the clouds as Chick's eyes adjust and a familiar, caring but sometimes troublesome apex house cat sits on her side next to him. Jasmine's hand brushes his face lovingly, and gentle as a smile cracks through the haze and beams at her. "I don't need the rehab strips, Jas. I'll hold on for a moment, we'll make it together."

Art by the amazing  hitmore who made this comfier than I expected.

Don't bug them for comfy junk that's my style not theirs.