Who? Desmond & Open Where? A random 'street' near the apartments. What? A bloody mess of an arrival. When? This afternoon Rating? Low I think.
It was happening again. On the island in 2015, the sounds and voices were starting to fade out. He felt as though he'd been suddenly plunged underwater, but he was so very used to the feeling by now that it didn't worry him too much. He tried not to think about the time that might eventually make his head literally explode. It wouldn't be this time. He had it under control. It was all under control. He just had to... focus.
Eyes squeezed shut as the pressure in his skull started to build, and he leaned against a wall to steady himself. Blood poured from his nose, much more violently that the drips and trickles it had started with so, so long ago. He slumped down, feeling cool metal against his back, and he took a moment with his eyes still closed to mutter a quick prayer. If the old bastard was even listening anymore.