Who: Alvah and Francis Bernstein. What: Guess who's back? Where: Underground infirmary. When: Backdated to the 16th. Rating: PG-13. Status: Incomplete.
Flashes of tangerine red and a vague hint of royal purple that flooded his senses every time he rose from the bed in blind urgency; without fail, strong hands pushed him back down, every time a little more forceful than the last. There were words too, some soft and gentle, but some carried that hint of anger that made him want to get back up again and make a run for it. And then a shining needle plunged into his arm and a world of feverish reds and purples faded into black. By the time he finally woke up again, he really wished that he hadn't, because he felt worse. Too hot, too lightheaded, yet too heavy. The smallest movement told him that he was strapped in pretty tightly. Probably for the better, he reasoned.
Something burned in the back of his throat, but when he tried to talk, there was only incomprehensible mumbling as his head flopped around like a fish on dry land. For now, the leather straps kept him firmly on the bed, because if they hadn't, he would have fallen right out. Finally, unfocused eyes opened wearily and he finally recognized the place for what it is; the infirmary that he'd used to stock up on his field supplies. "Water," he finally brought out and felt pleased with himself for saying something that he'd been able to understand. And he knew that he wasn't alone, because he could feel another person's feelings.