"Dose him again," River said, his voice cold with a hollow, dead desperation.
"There’s no more in the vial!" Rain screamed, shaking the empty glass and throwing it against the wall where it shattered into a thousand diamonds. "There’s only the leftovers in the other syringes. The ones from before!"
"Then use those! I don't care if it's dirty! Use anything!" River was hysterical now, grabbing Rain by the collar and shaking him.
Rain grabbed another syringe, draining every last drop from the small bottles they had in the room, frantically sucking up the dregs. He didn't even clean the skin. He just stabbed. Two doses. Three. The couch was a mess of discarded plastic and blood.
"What are you doing?" I asked, horrified, trying to pull Rain's hand back. "You’re going to overdose him!"
"The
