26th October, 9 am. Prison Cell

[therealpm]

*When Peter comes round, The Machine's display springs to life, helpfully informing him of the temperature, pressure, likelihood of rain (which Peter deems to be frankly ridiculous, under the circumstances) and phase of the moon.

It's nearly full.

By this time last month, Peter would be about to transform.  He reaches out to his wolf form, trying to draw up the now familiar claws.  Instead he gets... nothing.  Well, almost nothing.  His nails lengthen a little.

He frowns, curious and now somewhat more awake.  Something else doesn't seem quite right either.  After a brief investigation, it seems that he is not only on his side (a now unusual state of affairs), but he also lacks any sort of clothing.

Worrisome.*

Comments

Re: 9.30 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*He sneers at John's nagging. The man has an entirely over-inflated sense of his own importance. When the man actually goes so far as to try to pick up Peter's feet and move them, he very determinedly shuffles his feet out of John's grip and sits loosely cross-legged in a way that will force John to have to walk around the bed to get to both heels.*

Re: 9.30 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

Peter, what are yo-

...I see. Very well then.

*John sets to sorting the last of Peter's infected wounds. When he is done, he tidies the things away and takes the waste out of the cell. He returns a few moments later with newspapers.*

Can I get you a drink of some description?

Re: 9.30 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*The patch takes longer than the pill to take effect. Peter finds himself absent mindedly scratching at one arm again. He ponders what sort of drink would be plausible but also get John out of the way long enough for Peter to verify his version of events with The Machine.*

Hot water. With chopped lime in it.

Re: 9.30 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John heads off to fetch Peter his drink.*

Re: 9.30 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*The Machine confirms John's explanation and provides cringe-inducing footage to back it up. Peter sighs and looks away. He supposes that having such things done by John, who is unlikely to breathe a word of it, is slightly better than some faceless nurse who could gabble on in the staff canteen but it is cold comfort. Every time he sees John now, it will be accompanied by the memory of watching his wounds being tended whilst weak, comatose and naked on a hospital bed.*

Re: 9.30 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John returns with the drink Peter requested.*

Is there anything else I can get you? Have you got enough reading material for the day or do you intend to play Risk with The Machine again?

Re: 9.30 am

[therealpm.livejournal.com]

*Peter stares fixedly to one side, willing the embarrassed flush in his cheeks away.*

Thank you.

No.

*The comment about Risk stirs a small measure of indignation, but he answers with as much composure and dignity as he can manage.*

The Machine will provide me with news updates from the past 3 days.

Re: 9.30 am

[bamfbercow.livejournal.com]

*John may not be particularly good at reading people (for a politician) but even he can tell something's wrong with Peter. Judging from the way he's totally averting his eyes, John assumes he doesn't want to talk about it. Best to just leave him to it then.*

I should probably head back and do some work now - if you do think of anything else, don't hesitate to ask.

*John updates Peter's notes on the door and leaves the other man to his thoughts.*