Characters: Gwendal von Voltaire and John Watson
Content: Gwendal hath returned to thine infirmary.
Setting: The Infirmary
Time: Nightish
Warnings: Bromance
Gwendal leaned against the wall for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes and sighing tiredly. He was so very tired and it only got worse as he trudged on, avoiding evil metal parts and just wanted to get to a bed. His room was unsafe (luckily Rosh was, he'd kept her inside a box beneath the bed that she knew not to leave) as were anywhere else.
Except for the infirmary. That was the only safe place now besides the outside of the ship.
Gwendal hadn't even realized he made it to the infirmary, just leaning against the doorway just outside of it. His legs gave out on him finally and he slid down the wall, his legs folded beneath him. His journal clattered to the floor, having been keeping conversation with Watson in the meant time.
Of course, now he probably worried the poor doctor again but Gwendal couldn't really do much else but sit there and try to keep awake. After all, those flying evil metal pieces were out to get him.