Andrew Darrrington's Story

The day was warm, but it was cool inside the bookstore as Drew sorted a box of 'recycles' - books that had been previously owned but sold to the store, to be put in the section just for them. His hair fell just in front of his eyes, and he flicked it aside irritably as he was reminded yet again that he needed a haircut. After work, he decided, and pulled out another handful of books from the box. Plunking them down on the table, he looked over the titles as he determined their classification. One science-fiction novel, two short crime dramas, and a worn copy of a 'collected works of poetry'. That one had too many poets' contributions to easily call out, so he set that one aside to be determined later. The rest were shuffled and slid into their places on the cart, and he flipped his hair out of his way yet again, almost growling this time in irritation at it.

"No deal." The words were snarled from behind teeth filed into points. It was a sight that Eskarina had been unable to keep from staring at throughout the confrontation, which, if she was honest, was possibly why she was being picked up by the front of her shirt, her legs lying in a (thankfully) unidentified pool of liquid that trailed it's way down the concrete. She should have been on her feet, her shoulders proud and broad. She should have been fighting back with words as much as with muscle, and she finds herself wondering, idly, why she was simply letting them throw her from one side of the ally to the other.

She felt her feet leave the floor again before the sudden sensation of flight, and the dual strike of the cool metal door against her back, and the hollow ringing sound the impact made. The taste of copper in her mouth and a sudden dripping sensation across her cheek reminded her. Yes. That was why.

The first blow to the head had been the decisive factor. She'd barely realised the nature of her pursuers before her temple had been thrown against the solid brickwork of the bookshop's wall. It had all gotten fuzzy from there, and though Esk can't remember which was was up, she knew one thing.

She was a girl. No, a woman. And bloodied. And her attackers were men... two men. Lips drew back in a vicious smile from bloodstained teeth. She screamed. She screamed bloody murder, as though all the hounds of hell were after her. From the far end of the ally, there were angry shouts and running feet, and in that moment Esk was up and staggering, out into the sun-drenched sidewalk and then, partly through design and partly through the odd twist of the world around her, through the doorway of the local bookshop.

The cool tiled floor felt soothing under her cheek as she thought "Heh. Was coming here anyways."

He looked up as he saw someone enter, but he barely had any time to register the sight of the young woman before she collapsed, and a muttered imprecation passed his lips as his eyes widened in alarm. He moved toward the door, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing emergency services to get an ambulance sent here. He answered their questions quickly and concisely, then stayed on the line as he looked her over - a head wound, to be sure, and more scrapes and contusions than he could conveniently count.

The most troubling wound was the damage to her head, and he left her for a moment as he grabbed some ice and wrapped it in a paper towel, dribbling just enough water on it to dampen the material and allow temperature to pass through, then returned to his 'customer' and kneeled beside her, gently pressing it against the growing lump as he spoke with the dispatcher.

Leaning close, he carefully peeled back one of her eyelids to see if she showed signs of a concussion, and any objection was going to be enough to make him ask her the questions that even paramedics-in-training knew to ask.

"Do you know where you are? Do you know your name?" Simple questions, but the patient's level of coherence was important to establish before going further, and if he was only a student, he was a focused and determined one.

The uncomfortable feeling of being jostled was at least somewhat mitigated by the delicious sensation of a cool pack to her throbbing head. It wasn't until unknown hands started prying at her eyelids, letting brilliant light burn it's way all the way to the back of her brain, that she moved at all. The first was a grunt, and an attempt to move her hand, to bat away this stranger, followed by a more forceful slap as she tried to pull herself to her feet.

She'd get as far as her knees before the world spun uncomfortably, making her fear for the lunch she'd eaten some hours before. The cafeteria food had never been anything to brag about, and she doubted that revisiting it was going to lead to a more enjoyable experience a second time. Instead she tries to focus on what he's burbling at her, through the roaring in her ears. "Of course." She snaps, though she's painfully aware that the retort comes out of her mouth slurred and mumbled. She fumbles, and with her right hand fishes in her pocket, drawing out a folded and torn scrap of paper. "Need these." She tells him, before being struck by the realisation that this is, truly, funny. The giggles last for less than thirty seconds, but leave her pressing her head back to the tile as nausea sweeps through her again.

Damnit.

Something in the back of her mind tells her that if she can just curl up in the quiet for a while, that all would be well. That she'd heal, as always... just another bump. Right?

He tried to keep her from moving, but it was evident she was determined to move and unless he wanted to add to her troubles, he could not stop her properly. Her response to his questions was appropriate, and yet seemed to lose him for a moment as he stared blankly at the scrap of paper. His expression was actually mildly disturbed as he watched her curl in on herself, and he said to the dispatcher "That ambulance needs to hurry up. She's not looking well at all."

Having said that, he kept the phone near his ear but attempted to coax her into a more open but prone position, as being curled up like that was not going to be terribly helpful for her injuries. However, he could see signs of a second head injury, and she did not seem terribly inclined to move, so he cautiously placed the paper towels on that lump, hoping to see some kind of response to that action that might be considered favorable. He also asked again, "What is your name, miss?" in an attempt to get her on a more interactive level. Having seen the fit of giggles, he knew that she was not tracking well, but he hoped that even a little effort more might be enough to get her leveled out enough that she wasn't as borderline-incoherent as she was showing.

Where was that ambulance??

Once more that blessed cool sensation was back, and it was enough to make her fold her arms under her head, cushioning it against the floor. From that position she was able to crack one eye open slightly and survey the man who seemed intent upon disturbing what peace she could find.

It wasn't wise. She knew that. In the darkest recesses of her mind, where her higher functions had crawled to hide, she knew that she couldn't stay on the shop floor of a bookshop. (The thought of what it might do to future discouts almost set off another round of giggles, that were only narrowly avoided, turning into spluttering coughs). She had to get up. She had to get somewhere safe. Secrecy worked both ways, and while it was true that being surrounded by people on a busy street might have deterred them, she didn't put it past the Anduri to decide that one dead sales assistant was worth sending a solid message to the Pack.

That thought was enough to rattle some more sense into her, and she starts to lift her head. "Should go." She manages to mutter, putting one hand flat against the tile and willing the world to settle on just one direction of spinning. There had been too much already, she'd seen too much, responsible for too much. She couldn't have more blood on her conscience. "'Xcuse..."

"Whoa lady, you can't leave, you're injured!" he yelped as she attempted to move. "The ambulance will be here shortly," he added, willing it to be so, and wondered why Murphy was working so hard today. A quiet day at the book store, then an (admittedly rather cute) injured woman came through the door, and the ambulance was taking this side of forever to get here?

He was starting to wonder if there was some other emergency on the other side of the city that was in much more dire need of their attention than here. Still, he was doing what he could, and as he held the ice-pack in place, he made the decision to simply not move his hand when she tried to move her head, regardless of direction. He noted idly that his hand covered a fair portion of the back of her head, but it passed quickly as the dispatcher spoke at him again, and he responded with input that indicated he was still there, paying attention, and had not in fact allowed the patient to leave yet.

Still, despite her stature, he was wondering if he could really stop her without brute force if she decided to leave. She had some fire in her!

At his protestation, Esk shoots the stranger a condescending look- no minor feat when each tilt of her head tried to send her world spinning in a different direction. She does manage to croak; "Really?" at him before closing her lips tight over another wave of nausea. It takes a moment, however, for the rest of his sentence of truly sink in, and she goes pale at the thought. An ambulance? In an instant she plays through the scene to come in her head, the parade of bloodtests and scans- ones that could show anything. They'd never had the chance to put one of the Family through an MRI, though the bets were good that it would show something. Even if no one quite knew what.

She makes a blind grab for the man's phone and, realising both that she could barely see straight and that the chances of her catching the small item in his hand and finding the right button to end the call was slim, she does the next best thing. Grabbing whatever limb got in her way, Esk begins to lever herself to her feet.

"No." Her voice was firm, even if her stance wasn't. "Not goin' in any ambu'nce. Goin' home." She would continue to fight her way towards her feet, and if she ended up on the floor in the process, would only begin again with more determination. The men in the ally were one thing, but doctors? That was a whole new problem entirely. "Goin' home." She repeated again, as though repeating the phrase could make her body cooperate faster.

As luck would have it, her grab managed to jostle him enough to knock the phone out of his hand, and in the moment he had to assess things, he realized there was nowhere he could hold her that would either avoid pain or avoid offending her, and he did the only thing he could think of - he stood in front of the door. Actively holding her back was clearly not going to happen, but he could stay in her way enough to keep her from doing something foolish...hopefully.

"Look," he said as calmly as he could, "I don't know what problems you have with the hospital, but I promise you, I know some of the people who work for them and they'll make sure you're taken care of. Really, it's not that bad," he finished, trying to sound reassuring and wondering what she was going to do if she couldn't get past him. Even the thought of some things she might try made him all but wince, and he started to question the wisdom of getting in her way. He had seen how blows to the head had affected several of his friends who played football, and it was no joke how much they had been affected. For her to be on her feet at all was nearly miraculous, and if she could manage that...

Yikes.

By the time she has her feet beneath her, a fair sense of direction, and is facing the door, Esk can barely believe her eyes. She stops the curse just short of falling from her lips and instead takes a minute to size up the young man. He was young, she could tell that even through the spinning haze, and make out dark hair above brown eyes. The other features mixed and swam as she tried to pin them down, but she estimated his height, his reach, and only when she's sized him up properly does she start to speak.

"I'm leavin'." She tells him, hoping her voice sounded as calm and authoritative out loud as it did within her mind. "Go through you, or with you." Esk almost blinks at that. If there was a way for one person to stare at their own mouth in shock, without the aid of a mirror, she'd have done it in that moment. A bloodied head was one thing, but what the hell was that?

She raised her hand as much to hide the flush creeping up her neck as to silence the giggles that threatened to return again. If he'd called the ambulance, it was a miracle they weren't already on scene. Every second she wasted was one closer to 'help'. She tried to look him in the eye, to exude honesty and desperation. "Move. Please."

Aw, crap. She really meant it too, and he knew he couldn't do without helping her somehow, but he didn't want her to get more hurt. He looked at his phone, sighed, and said "Lady, you really should wait for the ambulance. Head injuries are no joke." He shook his head and stepped reluctantly out of the way, saying "Ok, you will want to catch the cable-car that's going to pass this store in about a minute. Where you go from there's your business, but try to get yourself seen to, all right?" He gave a half-smile as he said "It would be a shame to not have a chance to help you with that book you wanted." With that, he moves even more, walking to get his phone so she can have a clear route through the door and out. Maybe she'd even come back, when she was feeling better.

"You look like you need a doctor." A woman's voice seemed to come out of nowhere, and on second glance, a blonde haired woman was seen standing there just adjacent to the pair. Moving quickly, she approached Eskarina a moment.

"Hold up." She said, offering a kind smile. "I'm a doctor, and a combat medic once upon a time. Let me get a look at you." She insisted, making her way to a silver car, that at previous glance wasn't there.

Opening the door, she turned back to Andrew;

"She a friend of yours?" The Blonde asked.

The sound of another voice from the depths of the shop is enough to make Esk flinch, sending her internal-spin off again as she tries to look at the newcomer, without losing sight of the young man who'd tried to bar her way. For one wild eyed, panicked moment, she thought that she might have been right. That the Anduri had somehow known she would be here, that they'd had a member stationed just in case... But it only took a handful of moments to tell that it wasn't the case. Something about the woman struck her as odd, certainly, but then given the way the world was trying to spin in two different directions, it was entirely possible that was within her own mind...

When the woman moves outside, to a car that she clearly expects Esk to enter, however, the young woman digs her heels in on the ceramic floor. The question aimed at the young man makes her swivel her head, her brain turning over quickly. If it was a trap, if it wasn't, if he was, if she was... Negative scenarios crashed through her brain faster than she could really keep up with them, and so she reaches out to grab for the poor clerk, answering for him. She want's to loop her arm with his, to present some kind of stable, united force... outnumbered and disorientated only made her chest feel tighter, and as her skin began to itch she knew she had to do something. Anything. "Yes." She says. "Meant to be meeting here." She looks quickly at the young man, whose name she still didn't know, and tries to convince him just with the weight of her arm, and the look in her eye, to help her. Please.

Andrew’s head whipped around at the appearance of someone he couldn’t actually remember having entered the store, and something in his stomach turned uneasily. From the injured woman’s reaction, this was not someone she knew, and the character of her injuries were such that it looked very much like someone had inflicted them upon her. The offer was generous, but…

He had played the part of ‘wingman’ for more than a few of his friends, and more times than he could conveniently count, so he could do casual. He did exactly that, letting Eskarina not only take his arm but also making it look like a familiar, comfortable gesture, placing his hand over hers reassuringly.

“With all due respect, ma’am,” he said carefully, managing his tone the way he had been taught in training, “While your offer of assistance is appreciated, I can’t in good conscience let her leave with someone I don’t know.” He looks down at her, nodding and saying “I think, however, that if you want to give me that list of books you were wanting to look at, I can make sure they’re ready for you to pick up for class when you’re feeling better. I have copies of most of them myself, but I’d feel better if you had your own copies so you could keep studying when I’m not around to help.” It was a ruse, but he knew she had at least one book she wanted, and it was hopefully going to be enough to keep this stranger from trying to take off with someone who, for all he knew, had been hurt by someone this person knew. “The cablecar ride won’t be long, and then you’ll be at the clinic. I’ll walk you to it, to make sure you’re safely on your way, okay?” That part wasn’t a ruse – he had no intention of letting her get on any public transportation without an escort to make sure she at least got on safely, and the only person here he knew and trusted was himself.

The woman had gone out to her car, only to return into the shop with a doctor's bag. Silently she listened to their protests. The strange blonde however saw right through the ruse, with a strange shimmering in her eyes, which quickly warmed up into a smile. "Oh! I had no intention of taking her anywhere, after all, I don't want to get blood on my car, I just had the interior detailed and it's quite an expensive vehicle."

She offered another smile, setting the doctor's bag on the counter, sitting open only slightly, a myriad of strange and alien tools filled the bag, from syringes, to scalpels, to a portable autoclave, along with vials of several liquids of different colors.

"Sit down, I can get you patched up here." She added, with a disarming and reassuring smile, revealing perfect teeth, indeed everything about her seemed too perfect. Perhaps this strange woman had a really good plastic surgeon.

"I'm Marlene, by the way, and you have nothing to worry about. I'm just passing through." She added, rummaging through her doctor's bag. "Pull her up a chair, and get me a warm cloth and some gauze if your shop has a first aid kit.." She said, looking up to Andrew. "Chop Chop, Paramedic should know what he's doing with an injured."

Strange, it seemed Marlene knew what he was doing, and yet there was no way of her knowing. Indeed the strange woman's blue eyes betrayed a celestial intelligence.

Looking to Eskarina, she produced a syringe with a blue colored liquid. "You might have a concussion, this should help." She said, reaching towards the woman's arm, pulling it out and moving to press the syringe to her flesh and inject the contents. "It's called Beta-Cantin, mixed with nanomachines. Designed specifically for head injuries. It'll mitigate a concussion and any damage to the brain." To the well versed Terran, the nature of this doctor and her medicine was clear. Aschen medicine, which was for all intents and purposes, some of the best in the galaxy, by an experienced doctor, was being offered to this young woman.

Esk rested her weight against Andrew, partly to continue the gesture of familiarity, and partly because the extra support went a long way to easing her spinning head. Her lips were tensed tight, and only the fraction of a nod indicates that she's willing to go to the cablecar... it's a motion stopped as the bag is produced.

It wasn't that she liked pain. The spinning, nausea inducing tilt and jolt of the world was far from enjoyable. The possibility of no longer having to try and hold down her lunch via pure force of will was attractive enough that she watches the other woman reach for her arm almost impassibly. It is only when the brilliant, silver coloured needle comes near to her flesh that she moves, her heartrate immediately rocketing as she jerked away from the intrusive point. Her pupils dilated to the point of almost swallowing the brown rim and an instinctive shudder worked its way violently up her spine. The thought of it, of an unknown woman and her odd substance, of the shining needle and her own flesh was enough to make her skin itch from the inside and cause her lips to peel back from her teeth in a primal grimace.

Fuelled by her rush of adrenaline, her mind works overtime. It takes in this oddly perfect being, and her needle, and the liquid within. It takes long moments for her words to sink into her fear-soaked brain, and only then does she grit her teeth, and extend her arm as though she is moving through tar. "'Kay" She says, her teeth grinding with the effort of allowing such an act. The woman was not Anduri, she knew that. Everything about her promised that even if she knew of them, she was far from affiliated. And in truth, her weakened state did little more than make her an active target for those who would love such an opportunity. So she holds her fear tightly in hand, and allows the woman to move closer again.

He got himself ready to move past the unusually pushy woman, but he was listening to her words and came to a halt when he heard her mention a medication he had never heard of, as well as the word 'nanomachines'. He could not stop himself from saying "Nanomachines? Pull the other one, lady, it's got bells on it." Okay, so maybe he had been reading a few too many foreign-culture books lately. It was so hard to find good dry humor, however, and he wasn't particularly ashamed of it, not that he should be.

Still there was something about this 'doctor' that set his teeth on edge, and he was about to draw Eskarina out the door when he halted again, this time in astonishment at the injured woman's, admittedly begrudging, acquiescence. He wasn't going to force her to go, but the ambulance couldn't possibly fail to arrive at some point, and then what were they going to do? Eskarina didn't want to go to a hospital for whatever reason, and this 'doctor' was spouting off about medicine that, as far as he knew, didn't even exist, which made her either a quack or some kind of bizarre genius, and in either case he didn't think the actual paramedics (and probably police, given the manner in which the 9-1-1 call had been cut off) would be impressed with this so-called doctor's notions. However, if the injured woman was willing to submit to this, then the least he could do was make sure that if something bad happened, he was on hand to do what he could to help, up to and including doing whatever degree of harm was necessary to back off this very pushy would-be doctor.

While Eskarina readied herself for 'treatment', Drew got the things necessary to help with cleanup - rubbing alcohol, warm soapy water, and clean paper towels which, while not as good as actual towels, had the benefit of being completely disposable. He also located the box of adhesive bandages, several of which were large enough to cover most reasonable abrasions but would do little against more severe wounds. However, Eskarina didn't look like she had any particularly deep injuries, and if what this Marlene was trying to give her was half what it seemed was implied, he doubted that bleeding was going to be an issue for long. He had, after all, read enough science fiction to understand how nanomachines were intended to work, even those meant to be surgery-substitutes, and while he could imagine it being possible, he couldn't imagine random people wandering around with nanomachine-enhanced medicines being either normal or particularly desirable. After all, nanomachines had a darker side as well, and he had both read and watched enough media to be concerned about those as well.

Assistant gear in hand, he piled the items on top of a fairly heavy book, one that could double as a bludgeoning device if he didn't like what happened to Eskarina, and toted it all to the table where Marlene had settled her things, pulling a chair up for Eskarina to sit on for whatever was to come, his hand resting on an item that might be needed for weapon at any moment. This lady was too weird for his liking.

When Marlene moved close to deliver the medications the first time, Eskarina pulled back, causing the woman to offer a nod and a calming rest of her hand on the woman's arm. "Relax." She insisted, and when the woman relented to the medicine, Marlene moved in, pressing needle into flesh and ultimately into a vein. This would allow immediate delivery of the medicines directly to the brain.

The initial sensation could be described as a rush of adrenaline, starting where the needle made it's injection, up the arm and inevitably swallowing the entire body in a tingling, cool sensation before it ultimately faded. As it faded, the mental fog that plagued Esk from her injuries likely cleared up within seconds, followed by the pain, which dulled itself and eventually vanished. With internal injuries mitigated, Marlene could work quickly on external abrasions.

She withdrew the now empty syringe, and placed it within an autoclave, this would sterilize the needle for the next patient. Now Marlene reached for what looked like foam patches that were wrapped in paper. With the clothes and bandages prepared, Marlene ignored the bandages, and proceeded to dab at the wounds with the cloth. "This is going to hurt." She warned, before placing a flesh colored patch against a large bleeding abrasion on Eskarina's head. The effects were instantaneous, a sudden searing burn followed by a quick dulling of the pain. The flesh colored, foamy patch melted into the skin, providing a scaffolding for quick wound healing. Marlene quickly worked to search for other wounds.

"Someone really whipped you good didn't they?" She said, looking up to Andrew.

"You haven't been around long have you?" She said, bringing shimmering blue eyes to rest on his form. "This is Terra, it's a planet in the Sol System, about seventy years ago, the nations of this world made contact with an Alien civilization, called the Aschen Confederation. We're about five hundred years ahead of you technologically. Most of the activity has been centered in Aslund, so it's not surprising you haven't heard of us." She explained.

"Anyways, we've been in contact with your world for some time. I'm an Aschen doctor, hence what you perceive as strange and alien medications." She said with a chuckle.

"Any Cop or EMT is going to laugh at you, and probably yammer on our medical prowess, and leave me to my work." She said, leaning back. "The Nanites should stem the bleeding, and I've patched the more serious wounds. And now for the serious shit. What happened?"

Esk could do little more than let out a sigh of relief as the dull and persistant pounding in her skull faded away to nothingness. Before the doctor could get a hold of her again, however, she rolled her head experimentally from one side to the other, pausing to apply pressure in each direction, leading to a series of cracks and pops that make her eyes roll with continued relief.

The warning that the next portion of the treatment cycle would hurt only brings and acknowledging grunt, and she tilts her head to give the medic access to the wound she has her eye on, but even then the sudden hissing and burning is enough to bring a sharp curse from the young woman's lips, making her spin on her heel and walk several paces away until the initial sensation had passed. It is only once the searing pain had ceased that she realises that the woman is talking to Andrew, and she scrabbles to put her thoughts back into some semblance of order. The Doctor's medication might have made quick work of her injuries, but there was little she could do to reorder the information that had been garbled, or lost entirely, between the moment she'd hit her head, and when the nanites had gone to work in her system.

"Rare, yeah." Is all she can add to the conversation, lifting her hand to wipe away the remains of blood from her forehead, wincing as she comes in contact with the rapidly solidifying substance that was already clinging to the roots of her hair. Having a hand in front of her face gives her half a second to censor her reaction to the sudden question, and she lowers her fingers, looking at them with mild curiosity. "Got jumped. Got in here. Happens, I guess." Slim shoulders rise and fall as she looks to the woman. "What's one of your type doin' out here. Haven't you got bigger cities to play in? Heard all the Aschen folks liked to keep to the mega cities."

Esk regards the Doctor for a long moment before moving past the woman and to the small counter that held the book store register. "Sorry" she says almost absently to poor Andrew, as she shifts behind it and comes back out with the cleaning spray and paper roll before moving to wipe the patch of her own blood that marked the cool tiled floor by the door. Bad enough to be here, to potentially drag the innocent man and now a doctor into her mess, but leaving such an obvious trail lying around? That was unforgivable. She doesn't take her attention from the doctor, however, quite clearly waiting for a response.

Drew blinked several times as he listened to the woman speak. That couldn’t be…could it? He started to feel increasingly far from his own body, more so by the moment, and he could feel his lips seem to move of their own accord as he said “Aliens? Have we been invaded?” The question seemed ludicrous even as he asked it, but things just felt so surreal that he wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Words spoken near him began to take on an echo, fuzzy at the edges, like voices heard down a hallway. And then the headache arrived.

Oh yeah, the headaches. He remembered them now. They seemed to come and go without any rhyme or reason, leaving him feeling drained for days afterward, but were quickly forgotten otherwise. Nobody had ever been able to pin down what caused them, but at least his parents had been very understanding when they occurred. His father had even investigated special diets to help, even if it only reduced the down-time after one of those occurrences. It was why they had moved out to these islands, something to do with population pressure and other related issues causing stress on his growing brain. He couldn’t quite remember where it had come from, but his parents had told him everything they could recall about the matter. A college town had more than its share of stresses, without a doubt, and he wanted to be as armed against it as possible.

This was a bad one. It felt like it started in the center of his brain and was trying to push its way out of his skull in all directions. There was also a strange buzzing sound in his ears – strange, hadn’t he heard that it was supposed to be ringing, not buzzing..? – and a very faint fogginess overlaid his vision. He stepped back out of Esk’s way silently, leaning against the table, not knowing that there was an expression on his face that looked, frankly, stunned, nor would he have been able to explain that it came not only from the realization (and evidence) of an alien presence on his world, but from the vicious headache distorting his senses with pain. Closing his eyes and massaging his forehead, he turned away from the doctor and leaned a little harder on the table, feeling a tickling sensation that he couldn’t make sense of until something struck his hand.

Looking down, he saw a drop of blood, and without thinking brought his hand up to his nose, realizing he had a nosebleed. His training kicked in at this point, making him tilt his head back and pinch his nostrils shut, breathing through his mouth as he walked into the back room to get some paper towels. That had never happened before, he mused, and in the distraction didn’t notice that the headache had eased somewhat. It was still a miserable thing, squatting inside his skull like a heavy stone on a broken limb, but as he walked into the bathroom, he could see his pupils returning to a more normal size. He got the cold water running, leaning on the edge of the sink and staring at himself in the mirror. What the hell was going on today…?