012 - [Infirmary Spam]

[triggered_it]

[Adrian hadn't spoken to anyone since he had woken up in the infirmary. In fact, he had been flat out avoiding even looking at the journal systems or making eye contact with anyone around him. He slept most of the time, during the day, though it brought little comfort. At night, he lay awake and watched the moving shapes of the ceiling, an odd form

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[victimofnoone]

[Hayley had no decent explanation for her current mood. She had been depressed since returning from port, crying at random times when she was alone for no apparent reason. There was a gap in her memory that she couldn't explain and part of her wondered if that had something to do with it. The only clue was Adrian's golden pin that she had found sitting on her desk after arriving back on the Barge. She also hadn't been able to sleep, plagued by nightmares she forgot the instant she awoke in a cold sweat with tears running down her cheeks.

As she entered the infirmary, where she had just learned Adrian was, Hayley paused to check her reflection in some piece of equipment. Her fatigue was rather obvious, but not bad enough to make her look like an insomniac yet and that was all that mattered. Walking near to the back to find Adrian, she passed Dorian without a single remark and then pulled the curtains around Adrian's bed when she found him so that their conversation could remain somewhat private.]

Hey. [She said softly, her voice

[triggered_it]

[Adrian looked like hell, pale and thin, though he couldn't have lost so much weight in two days. It was the position he was using to lie in bed, sideways, curled slightly, practically buried beneath a blanket. He'd been getting chills, accompanied by the high fever that went with the death toll, though he suspected the coldness had something to do with more than sickness. When Hayley spoke, he didn't move, but opened his eyes to look at her. He stared for a moment, as if unsure about rather he was dreaming or not. He had been drifting in and out of sleep randomly.]

What are you doing here? [His voice was soft, slightly raspy, but his puzzlement was clear.]

[victimofnoone]

[She slowly pulled up the nearby chair to rest directly beside the bed, taking a seat so that her eyes were level with his, very near to where he was curled up. The quiet and close setting seemed fitting for some reason; perhaps because death, permanent or not, demanded it.]

I just found out you were here. I'm sorry I didn't come check on you sooner.. [Her tone was a mixture of confusion and possibly hurt, not certain why he should be so amazed that she had come to see him. As far as she could recall, they were friends, and that meant checking on him.]

[triggered_it]

['I just found out you were here.' That meant she didn't remember. Why, he had no idea. Perhaps she had blocked it out, perhaps the Admiral had something to do with it. For a moment, he was angry: not at Hayley, but at the Admiral. He didn't have the energy to remain so for very long, though. Anger was such a pointless emotion. More than anything, he felt extremely tired.

Internally, he motivated himself to get through this conversation. He was going to talk to her. He had to learn to care about this girl. Not that he didn't already, but he needed to learn to care more, to genuinely, deeply care. Or perhaps just be a better friend to her. Either that or break off the friendship entirely, something part of him wanted to do, as some sort of punishment for himself, but that was so stereotypical: the tortured male protecting the female from his issues. Hamlet and Ophelia.]

You don't remember.

[devils_bargain]

[Dorian did not wake immediately, he didn't wake for a long while. He was dreaming, if these sleeping visions could be called dreams. His sleep was fitful and he was trying to wake, scrabbling at the edges of blurred nightmares in which he felt small and alone, for the exit. For the end. But it didn't come.

Until finally, it did. His eyes opened and he stared up at the ceiling as the dreams chased themselves away. He remembered nothing of them, and right now, very little of what had transpired with Henry. He was aware of fatigue, and the heaviness of limbs, but most of all, he had a terrible headache that split through his mind and his thoughts like bright hot point of light.

Dorian was aware of someone leaving, but was not aware that it was Hayley. He had neither looked nor cared, opting instead to close his eyes again and hide from the light. At length, he spoke, voice very low.]

Is anyone there?

[triggered_it]

[Adrian did not want to respond. He wanted to go back to sleep. He considered the option for a long while, before finally opting to respond.]

I'm here, Dorian. [He was sure it would be noted that his voice lacked any of the usual pleasantness. His reluctance to converse was showing.]

[devils_bargain]

[It was Adrian. Dorian was silent for some time, unsure what to say. Something had happened, clearly, but there were gaps in his memory, things he didn't remember, and that unsettled him greatly. It was difficult to think back, the pain in his head distracting him.

He remembered snippets, grasping at them like dark threads, but they faded into the secret places of his mind, beyond his reach.]

What... what happened?

[triggered_it]

We died in port.

This is the death toll. You'll be well again within a few days. [He was developing an agonizing headache as well, so he had to shut his eyes as he spoke.]

[thegooddrjones]

[Martha'd been sleeping. She'd been sleeping and she'd been dreaming and sometimes when it was quiet, she'd even been sobbing silently, all curled onto her side, her face in a pillow. Thankfully someone had the foresight to put her as far away from her murder as they could, so she hadn't seen him since they'd arrived back. The fact that Adrian had shot her hurt, it hurt as much as the lingering pain from the bullet holes that had been burnt into her chest

[triggered_it]

[He's not moving. He shows zero reaction.]

Because I knew what I was doing. I was proving a point to you. [It's nearly muttered. He looks as hellish as she does: pale, curled sideways, and buried in pillows and blankets. He's not in the mood to talk, but doesn't have the energy to tell her to go away, not yet at least.]

[thegooddrjones]

And what point were you proving? [She watched him, trying to make eye contact and failing to do so. It was partly because of the way he was laying and being swathed in blankets, and partly because she didn't know if she could maintain it right now. The fact that someone who she didn't think hated her had killed her bothered her, and Martha didn't know quite how to understand it. She understood that the Master had done it in response for what she had done and to get a rise out of the Doctor, but this... it wasn't even random. Her voice as low, and there was the hint of tears in it despite how much she was trying not to get emotional.]

Adrian, I'm just trying to understand why you felt like you needed to kill me when there was the chance that I wouldn't come back.

[triggered_it]

I wanted to show the Admiral, and you, how pointless this is.

Of course, The Admiral doesn't give a damn one way or the other if either of us dies and doesn't come back, but it was worth a shot. [This conversation is extremely taxing, and he's purposely being as cold as possible towards her.]

I formally request that you take me to zero now. I want time alone. [His eyes narrowed in irritation at Dorian's bed. Dorian was asleep right now, but all the same, his earlier idle chit-chat had been annoying.]