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[unsoldiered]

Alex is probably busy getting chewed on by monsters or something.

Leave him a message after the beep and hopefully he can get back to you.

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[unsoldiered]

I'd appreciate that a lot.

[Like her, he's immediately relieved when the other doesn't give a shit. Maybe he should expect it, but. He's told very few people about it. He's ashamed to think he'd ever went out of his mind like he had, even if there were a lot of years building up to that meltdown; he doesn't really figure in that it was long overdue.]

Just... wanted to give you the memo. That you have weird tastes in friends.

And since we both have a hate-hate relationship with the medbay. Even just sneaking in there to steal some pain pills freaks me out a little.

[sweetmotherofgod]

Hate-hate relationships are kinda my thing. Or at least hate-pretending to hate because it's easier.

[she has a hand on his shoulder still, and he hasn't flinched or moved away, so she squeezes. Like her dad did when he called her sport, like Tillman did when he called her kiddo.]

You know you don't have to steal them, right? I mean, it's gross in there, but some of the staff are pretty cool. A guy named Rory brought me a top-up on my sleeping pills once. And John Watson, he's good people. Takes a lot to throw him and he doesn't talk about you or try the whole comforting routine.

[unsoldiered]

[Hate-pretending to hate. That makes him laugh faintly. Not really for any good reason—reminds him of some fucked up plot twists back home he some days wishes he could forget. But he's at least kept away from that line of thought by the mention of the medical staff. He considers it.]

... Guess if you say so. Don't think I'll need any pain pills for a while, anyway; I don't use 'em unless I really need to, so I've got plenty to last me.

But I'll drop one of them a line, if they can help out with... hospitalphobia. Whatever the hell it's called.