Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in rooms,
Re: Log: no pizza, so sad: Gwen S & Harry O
[Gwen had to help him into the shirt, his muscles hurt too badly to do it all on his own. Fucking invalid. Help. Harry thought that was a strange word. The demonic hiss in his head said it wasn't right, it wasn't green! It would kill him or worse, and then how would he ever fix anything? Harry sighed, trying not to listen, trying not to believe all of the hissing anf growling and the desperation to leave. It hadn't gotten him out of here yet, the green vowed to bide time if it had to. But the serum was fading, and Harry wasn't strong enough to do anything more than twist his hands in the sheets, knuckles bruised and scabbed. He noticed Gwen take a small sip of the vial, or pretend to, it was hard to tell because his eyes were tired and his head was beginning to ache.
No, no, no the voice said, and Harry held the pretty vial in his fingers, wondering how angry Gwen would be if he just poured it out. She probably had more anyway. Gwen Stacy always had a back up plan. So, uncaring, poison or not, he swallowed the whole thing down. The drugs are quick. This with a kiss I die, and the vial slipped from his fingers down to the floor with a clatter as he fell back against the bed.
Green didn't like purple, it didn't like it at all. The voice began to fade, its screams of Harry's inadequacy and uselessness and stupidity echoing in his ears even as his heartbeat slowed. Maybe it was poison after all. His body didn't hurt so bad anymore, nothing hurt, and the voice faded as he tried to focus on Gwen and not the realization that he was probably never wakingup again; had to be dying, lethargy, no voice in his head, painless.]
Did I hurt anyone? [He asked like setting up for a final confession. His heart beat slower, purple beating green for the moment. Dud, dud, dud went his heartbeat in a slow staccato, and even though his eyes drifted with the urge to slip into darkness, he struggled to keep them open so that he could talk to her. He reached out, braver than she'd been, and he did touch the bruises tat her saw on her pale skin.] I thought... it was a dream...