Henry McCoy (i_thebeast) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-09-28 01:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | baba yaga, henry mccoy |
Coffee Recovery (Open)
Hank sat heavily at a small table in the coffee shop that was currently nearest the hospital, putting down his book and papers and carefully spreading them out. He had deep bags under his eyes and his clothes were a bit wrinkled, his hair sticking out at odd ends and just passed the need for a new trim.
He hadn't been the most groomed before the storm, but after a couple of days of being outside his lab helping to reinforce the windows and keep the patients in the hospital calm and well looked after, his appearance suffered dramatically. He hadn't noticed, however, as the adrenaline from one of the worst storms he'd ever heard about (let alone lived through) passed his thoughts returned to his experiments. Forty eight hours without sleep more or less demanded he go home and sleep, change his clothes, and eat something, but that could wait just a little bit longer, right? At least until he had a nice, relaxing cup of joe and read the results of the tests he'd missed while helping with damage control.
Now all was settled and the doctors who hadn't been at the hospital during the storm had returned to take over, and the exhausted staff that had been forced to remain on duty were allowed to leave. Hank had gathered the reports on the serums he'd left testing while he was upstairs and gone out for the coffee, too excited about the progress his work had recently made to not read up before hitting his apartment.
The biggest cup of steaming hot coffee he could buy sat on the table with all of his papers, and the eighteen year old did his best seventy-something impression as he battled sleep while reading through the pages of material quicker than most people could read their favorite blog post.