Stiles Stilinski (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
voluntaryapnea) wrote2014-11-03 06:57 pm
voluntaryapnea) wrote2014-11-03 06:57 pm
Entry tags:
19.
[Audio -- Open]
[The comm clicks onto audio and there's a moment of silence before a familiar voice -- albeit more tired than usual -- makes an announcement that it's clear he'd rather not be making. Because he'd rather not be making it.]
Dean's in a coma.
[He pauses, rubs a hand over his eyes tiredly as he looks down at his inmate, unconscious in bed and purses his lips.]
I'll let everyone know when he's awake again unless he does it first.
[He shuts the comm back off and sinks into a chair beside Dean's bed, closing his eyes.]
[Spam -- Open]
[He's exhausted. His body aches. He wants to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. He won't, of course, because he has things to do. People to check on. But he's in dire need of his Adderall because he's been without it for a month. On the list of things that he'd needed, that they'd all needed on the other barge, Adderall hadn't even made the list. His mind is racing with thoughts and he can't seem to be able to focus on any one thought for another.
He's back on the regular barge, and he needs to find Scott and make sure he's okay. He needs to find Lydia and make sure she's been okay. Allison, Kira, Isaac, Erica, Needy, Bucky, Steve. Hell, even Jackson. He needs to check on all of them and see for himself they're all right. Rest isn't going to happen until he's made the rounds.
But medication first. He makes his way down the steps toward the seventh floor and his room. He can be encountered in any of the stairwells, or the seventh floor corridor.]
[Spam -- Closed to Lydia]
[He slips his key into the door and unlocks it, pushes it open even as he rubs the back of his neck. He freezes instantly, gaze locking on Lydia's form as she sits on the edge of his bed. He lets out a shaky breath and closes the door behind him, letting his hands drop to his sides.]
Hi.
[The comm clicks onto audio and there's a moment of silence before a familiar voice -- albeit more tired than usual -- makes an announcement that it's clear he'd rather not be making. Because he'd rather not be making it.]
Dean's in a coma.
[He pauses, rubs a hand over his eyes tiredly as he looks down at his inmate, unconscious in bed and purses his lips.]
I'll let everyone know when he's awake again unless he does it first.
[He shuts the comm back off and sinks into a chair beside Dean's bed, closing his eyes.]
[Spam -- Open]
[He's exhausted. His body aches. He wants to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. He won't, of course, because he has things to do. People to check on. But he's in dire need of his Adderall because he's been without it for a month. On the list of things that he'd needed, that they'd all needed on the other barge, Adderall hadn't even made the list. His mind is racing with thoughts and he can't seem to be able to focus on any one thought for another.
He's back on the regular barge, and he needs to find Scott and make sure he's okay. He needs to find Lydia and make sure she's been okay. Allison, Kira, Isaac, Erica, Needy, Bucky, Steve. Hell, even Jackson. He needs to check on all of them and see for himself they're all right. Rest isn't going to happen until he's made the rounds.
But medication first. He makes his way down the steps toward the seventh floor and his room. He can be encountered in any of the stairwells, or the seventh floor corridor.]
[Spam -- Closed to Lydia]
[He slips his key into the door and unlocks it, pushes it open even as he rubs the back of his neck. He freezes instantly, gaze locking on Lydia's form as she sits on the edge of his bed. He lets out a shaky breath and closes the door behind him, letting his hands drop to his sides.]
Hi.
no subject
[He slides his thumb against the digital reader that Babs installed that would allow access to his room before turning to look at Jackson once more.]
I'm going to change clothes and then make sure all the people that I actually care about made it back where they're supposed to be in one freakin' piece. Not that you'd care if anyone didn't.
no subject
He didn't say anything. He just moved toward his own room. As much as he wanted to hold on to something that seemed familiar, pushing too hard would made it less familiar. And he really didn't want stay in Stiles' vicinity much longer, anyway. ]