It took quite a while for Drono to even begin to move. He lay, face down, eyes closed and with such stillness some might mistake him for dead. The pain radiated from his spine up his left arm, making it feel almost numb. His fingers curled and uncurled stiffly as he tried to regain some semblance of control. [color=a2d39c]"Get it together..."[/color]  He groaned to himself as he lifted his arms and pulled them close. Putting them to either side of him he pushed. The pain almost made him black out and he fell back onto his elbows then almost fell out of the bed as one armed slipped. 

Through his pain and blackening vision he saw a face. A smug Salarian. Yestin. It fueled the fire inside him and he punched his fists into the bed, gritted his teeth and pulled himself up. Even as he stumbled off the bed he saw that face, laughing at him. If Drono hadn't been numb with pain, he would have realized the drugs he took likely were effecting him. He stumbled and almost fell. [color=a2d39c]"Kill... you.. you son... of a bitch."[/color]  As the drugs worked he traded his sanity for comforting numbness. His vision bled colors, everything was becoming blurry. This was a problem for Drells who decided to cook up painkillers. Perfect recall, eidic memories did not go well with the drug induced haze. Especially when you unknowingly had weak hallucinogens mixed into your cocktail. 

 He fell to his knee, feeling as if he was about to evacuate his insides all over the floor. For a second everything was a grey and pale blue of a station street. He collapsed on the floor, everything spinning as his brain began to reach back to that nigh. Reality became hard to place, hard to understand. What was real, and what was not was nigh impossible to deduce in his drugaddled state. His brain triggered by his pain, kept looping the sound of a gun going off. Kept reliving the moment of impact. Everything hurt. Why did it have to hurt so much?

[color=a2d39c]"Kill...You."[/color] He repeated to himself. Before him, he saw the station on that night Yestin betrayed him. He felt it so vividly, the rain falling into the open wound on his back as he dragged himself across the station floor. The scraping of his palms, his knees. He pushed himself up to his feet and almost toppled forward onto his face in doing so. He stood, swaying on his feet. A wild look to his eyes as he stumbled out the corridor. [color=a2d39c]"YEEESTIIIN!"[/color] He bellowed on the top his lungs then almost toppled over as he was heaving again. Atleast his arm and back was a dull fire now rather then a crippling nerve inferno. 

He staggered, half leaning on the wall while doing so. [color=a2d39c]"Where...are you Yestin... You.. son..of a bitch."[/color] It was strange, he didn't remember the station corridors being this narrow. Why was there a kitchen? Where was he? 

He snapped out of it like being dunked in a bucket of ice cold water. He looked around him, disoriented. Something was wrong, he felt his face. It was wet. Not from blood. Not from sweat. Something else. Something that he had not allowed himself to do ever. 

[color=a2d39c]"...Get it together Drono."[/color] He told himself and promptly ran to the toilet to throw up.