(Untitled)

[imjustpretty]

Who: Ray Kowalski, Neil Howie, possibly infirmary people
What: Ray waking up after having gotten killed by the Master.
Where: Infirmary
When: Uh, probably backdated a little.
Notes: This is Ray's first death/death toll, and he is not going to react favorably to having gotten killed. Kim volunteered Howie to hang around and hold Ray's hand until Ray

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[the_house_rules]

House has been swilling coffee all morning and, in fits of twitchy near caffeine-toxicity, has been bouncing a ball in the office, doing push-ups because he finally can again, and playing games on his DS. Ray was ((ooc: as far as I know...)) the only patient in the infirmary, and the first person House had witnessed experience a death toll. Where House might normally avoid patients, he was lurking and waiting for him to wake up

Sorry, House. Ray is pre-occupied with freaking out and didn't hear you.

[imjustpretty]

It is too late. By the time Howie thrusts a basin in his hand, Ray's already busy throwing up. Most of it goes on the sheets and blanket, some of it may go on Howie. A little bit ends up in the basin, which Howie hopefully didn't let go of, since Ray's grip is anything but firm

too heavy? (feel free to assume House left after, btw, and continue on)

[the_house_rules]

So this was what he'd waited to see, what he'd been avoiding really thinking about all morning. Thoughts of this had lingered beneath the surface as he fucked around and pretended not to give a damn.

'Cool,' was what he might have said, a long time ago. He might have said it with an excited grin and bright eyes. Maybe. It was its own puzzle, in a way, the death toll another curious gift from the Admiral. A fail-safe on death

Sounds good to me~ Ray would agree, actually, although less eloquently.

[imjustpretty]

When Howie speaks, Ray recognizes the hard, clipped accent. He reaches up and around, grasping Howie's sleeve in a firm, almost desperate grip. He died. He fucking died. How can you "be alright" if you died?

Ray opens his mouth, about to say something--maybe ask Howie that same question, or maybe just tell him that he was dead, and please tell him his eye is alright, because he really doesn't want to have to start wearing an eyepatch--when the sharp sound of a slow golf-clap makes him jump. He looks around, fingers still curled into the fabric of Howie's sleeve, and blinks his eyes open--only to immediately squeeze them shut again. Ow. Light. Is bad.

He's not in the right state of mind to make much sense of House's words--he's still preoccupied with those frighteningly definite memories--but he picks up on the hostility and the sneering accusation in House's tone. He also picks up on the words "unarmed" and "dying"--yes, he was the one, and yes, he did the other, and neither will ever happen again as long as he's on this boat, not

House went to his office.

[the_house_rules]

((ooc: Carry on. House will come back later in the thread and dose Ray and make him go night night so he can get some sleep if you want, Ray-mun. If not, he can stay gone.))

[imjustpretty]

Ray nods, keeping his head lowered and concentrating on his breathing--deep breaths that gradually get less shaky, more even, and calmer. Eventually, he uncurls his fingers and pulls back, vaguely embarrassed. It's fine. He's okay. Not really, because he's still shaking and dizzy and slightly nauseous, but at least he's not panicking anymore.

He tries to open his eyes again, carefully this time, only cracking them open a little bit, just enough so he can make out vague shapes in his surroundings. It stings, but not badly enough to make him close them again. He looks down at the mess he made on the bed, and starts to ineffectively tug on the blanket, trying to flip over the vomit-soaked corner. He's really sorry about that, Howie.