Danger Zone. ● Sterling Archer.

Placebo Effect.

"This doesn't make sense." ARCHER strongly inhaled, causing me to glance over to snatch the joint from out of his hand. "Stop it, Archer!"

"What?" Archer exhaled, causing me to sigh softly as smoke filled up my car while he tossed his lighter up on my dashboard. "I'm fine, Lila."

"That's the problem." I breathed out. "Archer, it's been two weeks, and you haven't experienced the side effects you're usually supposed to."

And it was true.

After Archer was put on chemotherapy, I've been helping him with his treatments, even pitching in to help pay for them as they were very expensive. But, during these two weeks, Archer hasn't showed one sign of his medicine working— no hair loss, no nausea, no pain, nothing. 

At first, when I kept seeing how Archer looked everyday, I thought his immune system was being strong enough against his treatments. But, after today, which marked week two, I knew something was wrong.

So, with my hair naturally down, dressed in black Timberlands, ripped jeans with a leather jacket over a short sleeve plain shirt, I drove Archer and I to ISIS so Krieger could run some tests on Archer's treatments.

"Ain't that a good thing?" Archer questioned.

"No, Archer." I glanced back over at him. "I mean, yes, it's a good thing that you aren't suffering, but if your treatments aren't working, it's not fighting your cancer, and your cancer is just gonna continue to grow."

"So.."

"So?" I questioned.

"Can I have my doobie back?"

"Not until we figure out what the problem is." Archer groaned in annoyance. "For all we know, this might not be medical cannabis."

"Wait, it's supposed to be medical?" I blinked.

"You got it from a pharmacist, Archer." Archer blinked. "It helps reduce nausea, vomiting and sometimes pain while on your chemo."

"So, what's the problem?"

"What do you mean what's the problem?"

"I mean, if cannabis is supposed to help that, isn't that the reason I feel fine?" I sighed as I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand.

"Did you not listen to anything Dr. Speltz told you?"

"Probably not." I looked back up at Archer as I grabbed the bag of his treatments that were sitting in my lap to hold up in his view.

"This is the base of your chemotherapy, it's treatments that help destroy your cancer cells." I placed the bag down in my lap, and held up the joint in my hand. "This is an outlet used to reduce the nausea, vomiting and sometimes pain you would endure during those treatments." I used my index finger and thumb to put out the joint. "Cannabis doesn't make your cancer magically disappear, Archer, it just makes it a little easier."

"So, why do I feel fine?"

"I don't know, Archer." I breathed out. "But, that's why we're here so Krieger can test everything." I opened the driver's side door. "So, come on." I re-grabbed his bag from off my lap before getting out of the car, which I already had parked in my space in the parking garage at ISIS.

With Archer following behind me, we headed upstairs into the office to head towards Krieger's lab, where Krieger was standing behind one of his workbenches. "Hey, Krieger." I greeted as Archer and I walked over to him. "Thanks again for doing this." I added as we stopped beside him.