19.

[voluntaryapnea]

[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.

Comments

[spam]

[lydiascreams]

[It's still dark when he opens the door. Or dark again, since she's no longer on her communicator. But she doesn't need any source of light to tell it's him.

She can hear it in the way he unlocks the door, she can tell from the way he holds himself, not quite as tall as his counterpart. And most of all, in the way he feels. This connection they have, suddenly overwhelmingly strong again.

Which is why she gets on her feet, setting the communicator on his bed.]

Hi.

Video

[whatthefoxsay]

[Here's one of your people Stiles; one kitsune, now fully recovered from her ordeal on the Mirror Barge and looking better for it. She is, however, looking concerned.]

Is there anything I can do for Dean? I mean, you too but you know what I mean.

[bigkanimaoncampus]

[ He'd felt stronger. Stronger than he'd felt in over a month. He'd wrecked a swath of damage through the ship. But then it was all ripped away. And everything went dark. It was only the gift of his glowing eyes that he'd been able to see anything. Standing alone in one of the corridors, in the pitch dark, feeling weakened again, he slammed his fist into the nearest wall. Pounding until his hand went numb.

It was the wrong barge. He was supposed to be on the other one.

He stormed down toward his room, furious. Fuming. He'd left his communicator there. He intended to reach out to the Admiral to make a demand or two. As he approached his room, the stairwell door nearest to him opened, his attention snapping to it. His glowing blue eyes visible in the dark. Anger seized him before he even processed why. A burning fury that consumed him and sent him charging at the human, a wordless roar erupting from him. ]

[Spam]

[americasdirtiest]

[Mickey feels an odd pang of guilt when he hears Stiles' announcement, even though he's pretty sure that the coma isn't actually his fault -- after all, Dean's death was weeks ago. Still, as if the murder wasn't already hovering around the edges of his very crowded mind, the coma brings it briefly to the forefront.

Of course, he has no idea what to do about it, so he... well, doesn't. He continues along what is fast already becoming something of a routine: avoiding talking to pretty much anyone or doing pretty much anything and enjoying a life of inmate hermitude. He takes the stairs because he figures it will be less crowded than the elevator, and imagine his surprise when he looks up the next flight and sees Stiles coming down it.]

[Spam]

[semifreakingnormal]

[It doesn't take a lot of looking to find Stiles. Scott runs into him in the hall, almost literally as he rounds the corner from the stairs. Steadying them both, Scott manages a small smile, tired and relieved and very brief.]

Hey. Have you been back to your room yet?

[Has he had his Adderall, has he taken a minute to sit down and take care of himself before running around looking for everyone. That's what he really means. Hypocritically.]

[spam] (SORRY IT'S SO LATE)

[punched_hitler]

[Steve's in the seventh floor corridor, just making a quick stop by his room (actually, putting most of his stuff back in his room) before he heads out on another patrol. When he spots Stiles, he looks concerned - then relieved - then hopeful as he offers a smile, but he won't stop Stiles if he's doing something important.] Hey. It's good to see you again.

[You know - you you.]

You manage to get ahold of all your friends okay? [Because he knows they'll be worried - and he knows most of them were stuck on the other Barge for the month.]