"I threw it all away." Dylan replied, looking straight ahead, in Dave's direction but there was an emptiness in his eyes that sent his gaze right through his boyfriend. He could already feel a seed of panic taking root in his chest, and he had to clench his hands into fists under the table. His voice was especially calculated to hide the trembling he felt in his throat, "I took every needle, every bit of tubing, every bandage, every drop-" He swallowed hard, his mouth dry once more. It hurt, it stung to say those words, but they were true, and so he would have to say them. "And I threw it away." He licked his upper lip, "I don't know what he'll do, but it's all gone, Dave, all of my smack is gone. I don't want it." That was a lie, he wanted it, he wanted it so bad that he had to hold himself back from jumping across the table and rummaging through the pockets himself.