9:30AM, no sleep, if it's crap, sorry. Something's better than nothing, right?
Sleep never seemed to be an option anymore. Henry was constantly plagued with headaches or visions (perhaps memories, perhaps nightmares) that pulled him back any time he actually managed to drift off into a light slumber. The lack of rest was becoming apparent; his face was haggard and his movement sluggish.
Nothing came from the visit to the library, nothing except a small comfort that while she had not been through the same, there was a level of understanding from Sarah. He knew she had been through something just as trying, and it was enough to relate and enough to ease Henry's tension, at least a little bit.
With sleep avoiding him and with nothing to be found in the library, Henry had made his way to the recreational room. There was no point in staying in bed if he couldn't rest. He didn't even bother with glancing about the room, just made his way towards the closest chair and sat down heavily. His frame seemed to melt into the chair, head resting back entirely as one of his hands came to rest over his eyes.
Sleep deprivation really seemed to be getting to him.