Before following Bane to the bed, Matias looked over at Midnight, glaring softly.

"You won't listen to me," he huffed, "so listen to them. They're saying the truth."

He walked on over and sat as told. He and needles weren't exactly on speaking terms, so he had to take a gulp of air to calm his once dormant nerves. He could already smell the alcohol in his mind's nose.

"How much are you going to get?" he asked, intending a rhetorical question. "I should be fine. Just make it quick."

He stuck out his rather hairy arm, palm facing up, and looked away from the gleaming needle point.