After the security in New York was completely cleaned up, Schiller gave up completely.
He felt that he could no longer find anyone to treat him, so he began to drink more and more.
Even though the sky train station of the sanatorium was completed, he did not move back. Instead, he stayed in his small clinic and drank.
Schiller was now slumped on the sofa in the center of the clinic's living room. His white coat, which had been buttoned meticulously from beginning to end, was now completely open. There were wine stains on one side and two holes burned by cigarette ashes on the other side.
I know where the blood came from.
Schiller seemed to have just woken up from a hangover. He subconsciously touched the wine bottle next to him and found that the bottle was empty. He lowered his arms feebly, pursed his lips, and leaned on the armrest of the sofa.
Fell asleep.
In the next few days, Schiller discovered that all tobacco, alcohol, and drugs had disappeared throughout Hell's Kitchen, and even in Brooklyn along the Hudson River.
It just disappears in the physical sense. No matter how much money he takes or where he buys it, he can't buy it at all.
Schiller can use flash to travel freely through Hell's Kitchen, but there is a distance limit for his continuous flash.
Stark and Strange, who knew Schiller very well, opened a large defensive net and eliminated all addictive things within the scope of Schiller's activities.
This is not a situation where Schiller can gain something by throwing away his moral bottom line. These things have disappeared on the physical level, and there is no way to change them no matter how they cheat or attack.
Such a picture gradually shrank. Stark, Strange and Steve looked at Schiller who was squatting and shivering on the street corner in the picture, and they all sighed.
Seeing the shivering Schiller, Eddie quickly took off his coat and wanted to put it on Schiller, but after looking at the dust on the coat, he hesitated.
Climbing to the third floor and opening the door of the room at the end of the corridor, Eddie opened the door with one hand and helped Schiller walk in with the other.
"The people sitting here now are all relatively sane adults." Strange said: "We all know that Schiller cannot continue like this, whether it is the symptoms of his autism or the stress caused by psychological trauma.
It is an agitation reaction, or it is a psychological disorder that he has been excessively pursuing emotional stimulation. Sooner or later, it will be solved one day."
"After the body gradually adapts, we can begin to solve the psychological problems..."
The man squatting next to the street lamp, as if seeing a savior, took the cigarette butt with trembling hands and put it into his mouth.
But no one would be interested in him. Such people are too common in this community. Of course, there are no good people living in a community close to Hell's Kitchen. A drug addict who suddenly fell ill on the roadside can't even be called here.
It's scenery.
He knew that this doctor had a very serious mysophobia. He was unwilling to take cigarettes from other people's cigarette boxes, let alone other people's cigarettes. Moreover, he almost never used lighters, only matches.
.
Just like Matt said, the most genius scientists in the world and the most powerful magicians in the world have joined forces. There is nothing they can't block. Even the sewers near Hell's Kitchen have been screened by them.
All the empty wine bottles and empty medicine bottles that fell in were picked up, not even the dregs were left.
As soon as Schiller walked in, he collapsed on the sofa in the living room, looking completely imageless. Eddie lit a cigarette for him, and then his eyes fell on his coat, which was soaked at the edges because of the snow.
.
Steve shook his head vigorously, put the shield on his hand aside, and said: "I feel like we are like those bad students who take the lead in isolating others in school... I really can't do this, if you can't give me
Come up with a better treatment plan, I will go find him now!"
Schiller bent over and stood there gasping for breath. The cold breath he exhaled made his glasses covered with a layer of white mist. He took off his glasses and said: "No, I won't go back, I won't go anywhere."
…”
Eddie looked Schiller up and down and knew something must have happened to him, so Eddie said: "Okay, how about you go to my house? At least it is warmer there than here, and there are cigarettes..."
Eddie squatted down opposite him, frowned, squinted, put his head close to Schiller's face, then looked into his eyes and said, "Doctor, what's wrong with you?"
However, Schiller completely abandoned his past demeanor, and like a real drug addict living on the street, he hurriedly put the cigarette into his mouth, took a puff, and held his breath for a while.
Breathed out a puff of smoke.
“In addition to authorities in psychology and psychiatry, it also includes experts who specialize in drug or psychogenic addiction.”
After saying that, he turned around and was about to walk out, but Stark stopped him and said: "Don't be like this, Steve, don't worry, we consulted the most famous psychological experts in the world, including Schiller's teachers and professors.
"
"Schiller???!!"
"He must feel very sad now." Steve covered his mouth with his hand, and then emphasized:
Schiller immediately shook his head. He blinked with some effort, and then his eyes fell on the cigarette butt thrown away by Eddie. Eddie followed his gaze, but at this time, Schiller had already
He stretched out his hand.
“Ouch!!!!!”
At the end of the street covered with thick snow, a man wearing a coat and scarf squatted down next to the street lamp.
He took a deep breath, and then said: "Fortunately, you have to take Peter out first, otherwise, we will not be able to stop him no matter what."
He didn't seem to be in a good condition. He was panting hard all the time. His saliva and nasal mucus flowed out, and before they could be wiped off, they condensed into tiny ice crystals.
Now, Schiller is in a completely vacuum area, no smoke, no alcohol, no medicine.
The man was not wearing gloves, so he could only put his hand into the cuff on the other side, sniffling and shivering all over. It looked like it was cold or a severe withdrawal reaction.
Although he could buy it if he traveled further away, Schiller's feeling of emptiness and helplessness made him unwilling to stray too far from the place he was familiar with. He just wanted to return to the clinic as soon as possible, which would allow him to obtain the most
Not much security.
After the first heavy snow, the festive atmosphere became stronger and stronger, and Christmas carols were played everywhere.
Venom's spider compound eyes blinked, and that low tone reminded Schiller of a person.
Eddie quickly stopped him, then in a panic, he took out a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, handed one to Schiller, and then asked to help him light the cigarette.
Whether it is the hand holding the cigarette, or the action of smoking and exhaling the smoke, it is as light as if it is afraid of wasting any nicotine.
"Do you want us to work together now, unite, use the most resources, and be in the best condition to treat him steadily, or do you want to wait until the day when Schiller really gets into trouble and rush to save it?"
Schiller's attention was all on that half of the cigarette. Although his hands were shaking so much that he couldn't put the cigarette into his mouth accurately, he still tried his best, completely ignoring the cigarette butt that was almost burned to the bottom.
The fire burned its knuckles, which were frozen and turned white.
When he reached for the cigarette, he turned his body sideways, so the standing man, Ying, saw his face clearly and exclaimed:
Schiller just smoked and ignored him completely. Eddie could only sigh, walked forward, took off Schiller's coat like playing with an inflexible puppet, and also threw it into the dirty clothes basket.
.
Stark rarely explained a lot patiently. Steve took the shield, knocked on the edge of the table and said: "I really can't accept it, seeing my friend in so much pain, but not helping him."
"The unanimous conclusion they gave is that in the early stage of treatment, there must be a period of forced withdrawal. In this world, to quit any drug or addiction, you need to first let the body and brain adapt to a low-feedback state. This
The process is destined to be painful and long.”
Eddie stood there, rubbed his eyes, and shook his head. Schiller, who was squatting on the ground, looked up and asked him: "...Do you still have cigarettes?"
Eddie picked up his coat, put it into the dirty clothes basket next to it, and then said to Schiller: "Dr. Schiller, take off your coat and let me wash it for you... By the way, your coat should be washable.
Bar?"
After returning to the clinic, Schiller felt that he had nothing to do. Gradually, he no longer liked staying in the clinic. Instead, he began to wander on the streets. He would rather squat in front of the shop window in the middle of the night than go home.
Eddie quickly reached out, grabbed Schiller's wrist, shook the cigarette butt off his hand, and then said: "Dr. Schiller, what's wrong with you? Are you sick? Do you want me to call an ambulance for you?
?”
"Yes, but you can't smoke here." Eddie bent down, helped Schiller up, and then said: "I'll take you back to the nursing home, doctor, there's everything there..."
"I don't think he understands why we suddenly ignored him!"
Eddie took two steps back, looked up at the sky, and finally decided to reach out and put his coat on Schiele's body. However, to his surprise, Schiele remained motionless and allowed him to fiddle with it.
But Schiller's hands were shaking so much that he couldn't hold the cigarette, and he couldn't protect the fire. Eddie had to smoke the cigarette himself, light the cigarette, and then handed the cigarette to Schiller with some hesitation.
"You also want me to stop feeling any joy and happiness on the day you were born, to compensate for the coldness he felt... Amen."
Eddie hurried over and found that the sick man squatting next to the street lamp was actually Schiller.
Steve paused, put down his shield, crossed himself on his chest, and prayed lowly, echoing in the room. At this time, snowflakes were just falling outside the window.
The winter in New York is getting deeper and the temperature is getting lower and lower. This year is destined to be a very lively Christmas. Christmas decorations have been put up on the streets in advance, and the products in the windows have also taken on a new look.
Suddenly, Eddie's body shook, and the venom spread. The big mouth with fangs came close to the tip of Schiller's nose, and the venom's hoarse voice sounded:
"Look... who is this? Doctor? No, no, no, a patient... a very sick patient... I can feel..."
Steve was silent and lowered his head. Tony sighed softly and said, "I know, we all feel uncomfortable, but this day will come..."
Venom let out a scream, covered his eyes and retreated. The next second, he retreated into Eddie's body.
"Lord, if our friend is destined to suffer this disaster, please do not alleviate any of the sadness and pain in my heart and make me share his sin."
"...I'm not a doctor." Schiller's voice was so hoarse that Eddie was frightened. He had long lost the smooth and soothing tone he used during psychotherapy. It sounded like he was rushing to find someone late at night.
The coughing sound of a homeless man sheltering from the wind in a cardboard box.
Schiller didn't object, so Eddie helped him and walked to a building in a residential area not far from this block.
So, with trembling hands, Schiller took the cigarette out of his hand, raised his head, exhaled the last puff of smoke, and then pressed the cigarette butt hard against Venom's eyes.
He squatted next to the street lamp for a while, and seemed to feel better, so he turned to look at the window next to him, but at this moment, a hand stretched out, with half a stick between his fingers that he had not finished sucking.
of smoke.
Seeing that Schiller's condition was relatively stable, Eddie took the dirty clothes basket and came to the washing machine on the balcony.
He first picked up his jacket, dug through the pockets, and threw it into the washing machine. Then he picked up Schiller's coat and subconsciously put his hand into his pocket. Then he realized that his actions seemed a bit impolite.
.
However, he did touch something with his hand and felt a strange touch on his hand. Eddie pinched the thing, took his hand back, and then looked down.
It was a piece of gold and red candy wrapper that was folded very neatly, with every wrinkle smoothed out.