Professor Fear (Jonathan Crane x OC)

Chapter 2

-Message from author: This is more of a filler chapter and has no Jonathan Crane-

"I can give you anti-depressants that can aid with sleep," Dr. Parker offered. 

The two women sat in a small therapy room in Arkham asylum. Daria was one of the few outpatients the asylum had registered. In this most recent session, she'd informed her therapist of the sleepless nights and 'mind-blanks'.

"Anti-depressants are time and effort, I need something that I take and in thirty minutes I'm sleeping while an apocalypse rages outside," she tugged at her blue sweater. "Also it has to be affordable," then the issue occurred to her that she wouldn't be able to pay for the medication.
"I'm sorry Daria, I know I don't need parental consent for you but I don't want to be giving you any medication. I still recommend you either start weekly therapy here at Arkham, drop out of class for a while or, if desperate, get a part time job for some cash for the Anti-depressants. If matters get worse then come back here and we could consider admitting you for therapy." 

Daria inhaled sharply, closing her eyes in an attempt to flush out the anger. She'd appealed to Dr. Parker three times with almost the exact same response in the same sweet 'here for you' voice that the doctor evidently put on for her. It was surprising that Daria had not turned to the illegal drug market yet. Especially since she walked past it, amongst other illegal activities, on the way to her Arkham appointments. 

"I think you need to have a shot of honey-brown," she felt the cold shot glass being pressed against her hand. She reopened her eyes and gave him a friendly smile. The dark greasy haired man who smiled back was her old school friend Eric. Unlike Daria, Eric was pursuing the bar and club business in the Narrows uncaring of any further education. He still won the title of 'best advice giver' on Daria's chart. He envied Daria's academic life and she was jealous of the simplicity of his.

"I guess you're right," she sighed and grabbed the large empty glass that had contained her sea breeze a few minutes before and poured the whiskey shot over the ice.
"I'm trusting that you are still the good kid from primary school and you'll drive me home afterwards,"
"I swear home for you is college,"
"you're not wrong," She  then tipped the glass against her lips. He watched as she drank it like water, occasionally making a face at the burning sensation, until the cup was drained.

It took no more than two minutes for everything to slow down. Everything was beginning to blur and morph into one thing. After another shot, Daria's limbs were heavier and she felt, in a good way, stupid.

"You are going to feel shit in the morning," Eric warned. He forgot how irresponsibly his friend drank whenever in possession of alcohol. 
"I just want to sleep properly for two hours, that'sssall i ask right now,"  As if on cue her head fell onto the table, knocking over her glass. She'd passed out.
Eric was still for a few seconds. Surprised at how fast the effects had worked. He'd drugged the first shot he'd given her in order to grant her wish for sleep. He hadn't intended for her to drink on top of it. Some of the older businessmen, who came to the bar as their guilty pleasure, had turned their gaze to his situation. He'd picked up Daria's slumped form – with more effort needed than expected-  she'd been trying to gain muscle over the summer and it had definitely given her extra weight- and moved her towards the back door of the bar.
"Hey Richie, you're up for drinks!" He called to the chubby old man who was reading the papers in the kitchen. Upon hearing his name he'd fallen off his wooden stool and gave Eric a questioning glance before heading to the bar.
"I didn' know you were inta that stuff Eric?" It took a moment for Eric to realise that he appeared to be attempting a drug rape in a seedy bar in the Narrows.
"No Richie, she's my friend and she's had a bit too much of the drink,"
"Don't cover up boy, 'tis rare when I'm wrong," Eric didn't listen further. He strapped his friend into the passenger seat of his car and put his keys in the ignition. The punk music blasted out of his speaker, shocking him and causing a groan and stir from Daria.
"Ok Daria, You'll be home in seventeen minutes if traffic isn't bad," He said as if she could hear him.

Eric laid her upright in her bed and placed the room's trash can next to her in case she vomited when she woke up. A slightly shocked April stood shocked in the doorway, still holding it open from when he had knocked on the door.
"She'll wake up soonish," He kept his voice soft to show he meant no issue. "Her headache will make her a not very enjoyable person though,"

"I'd recommend ordering a black bean burger with a sesame bun , that's her favourite hangover food, here's the number of Jimmy's, they deliver on campus," Eric pushed the paper slip into April's free hand when he walked out of the door. April starred after the man with the stringy brown hair wearing a stained bar uniform that reeked of vodka as he walked down the stairs without turning back. She then let the door out of her hand to slam shut and turned to Daria who for the first time in a week was actually in her bed with her eyes closed.