Everything you've read up to this point is true, at least as far as I remember. I did something pretty awful, and yeah, I regret it. If I'd been in control of my own faculties at that point, I certainly would have done anything but what I did. I realize that my apologies are pretty worthless, as those don't tend to undo trauma or prevent horrible nightmares. What kills me is that I know I was on the other end of this sort of deal once upon a time - maybe I didn't lose a limb or even a single digit, but I've endured abuses of my own while in the care of someone I expected to be able to trust. Putting myself where I was four years ago, if those doctors had apologized to me, I would've wanted to punch them in the gut. I can't even begin to imagine how Dr. Rivers must feel. On the bright side, if you could consider it that, I took his mangled leg, and aside from the bleeding obvious, I performed the procedure correctly despite my...condition at the time. I haven't spent a lot of time around him, I've let August examine him and give him medications under my orders. I hate to burden the poor kid, but having a middleman throughout the rest of this mess puts my mind at ease, and I'm sure it's less stressful for Dr. Rivers as well.
Ugh, I'm not going to get upset over that again. I just took a good hit, I don't need to foul up my mood now.
Yeah, I kinda fell off the wagon again after Hugh Jackman Steele gave me the heroin (it is, after all, a derivative of my beloved morphine), but I'd much rather have my addiction back than the alternative. In a way, it's like seeing an old friend who'd gone on vacation, returning to show off all the souvenirs of its travels. Not to mention, to let me know just how much it missed me. I missed you too, morphine. Maybe with you back, I can fucking relax a little.