bells are ringing like a panic in my head

"Oh, I'm quite alright," Isla advises Nate with a soft smile, as if he needn't have bothered asking, and she sits with him and stays, for a moment, in that strange dichotomy of doctor and patient, before it cracks a bit. She relaxes in her seat and rubs at her eyes. "You do not have to put on a face for me, Nate," she assures him, before reaching for the file on the table, picking it up and offering it out to him. "Sunjata came to me for a second - third, really - opinion about the sleeping medicine he'd been given. I took a list of his symptoms, the events leading up to and since he began taking it. And then I had him take some in my presence, so I might see if he had a reaction. Everything I've just said is in the file there, as well as... well. I'll let you read it." Isla gestures for him to go ahead, whenever he's ready. Within, as well as the report the medic has just given, Nate will find mismatched sketches of things Sunjata thinks he has drawn - a foyer covered in blood, except it's just abstract lines, really - and all that he said and remembered during his time under the influence of the 'sleeping draught'. There's also Isla's analysis of the drug. "I ran some tests," she says softly. "As it turns out, your husband has been dosing himself with a very potent psychadelic every night. It can cause severe audio-visual hallucinations, memory loss, a fever, among other things." ISLA when it's just the two of us, only the two of us, I could die