There had been no sleep.
The ceiling tiles had morphed into a maze of torture, his eyes sketching and re-sketching out shapes made by the holes and the squares, annoying him to no end.
He wanted Kay. He wanted to hold her, to make sure she was alright, to reassure her that he was quitting IR, that he had chosen her.
But he was also scared. International Rescue had been everything for so long. Sure there was plenty of other stuff he could do, but could he watch his brothers go out, leaving him behind?
It hadn’t been easy saying those words to Scott, but it was going to be even harder to enact them.
And there was pain, no matter what medication they put him on. He could feel the fog clogging his mind, yet breathing still hurt. Perhaps he should ask for something stronger, something that could finally knock him out and end the pain on all fronts.
By the time the sun peeked over the horizon and lit up edges of the window, he was ready to take anything to make it all go away.