[Stephen listens to this; thinks it over. Sighs to himself a lot. He feels like shit for having lied to John about this, but it's more important now that they coordinate what supplies are available. The withdrawal is a distant memory; he can't imagine now what possessed him to take such desperate measures. He's stronger than that.

Supposed to be stronger than that.]

Less so if we coordinate with one another; get whichever of us is nearest to whoever needs it. I...have a small supply. Didn't finish everything you prescribed me. And...Vicodin. Three hundred twenty milligrams or so.