#windix

Helix's comm goes off, vibrating gently from its spot next to his empty cup and the bottle. He turns away, checks the message.

The softness in him vanishes in an instant.

“It's Dystro,” he says flatly. “I have to go.”

Mace gestures to the 'fresher. “After you.”

He doesn't realize until after Helix is gone that the bottle didn't go with him. He was too distracted by whatever Dystro said.

Simple enough to place the cups and the bottle in his bedside cupboard. He'll return them to Helix later.

Stitch sighs unhappily.  “Needle looks awful.  He's very dehydrated, and I'm worried about shock.  I wish we had a saline drip, at least.” There's a rustling sound as he adjusts the emergency blankets where they're draped over Needle.  “My ankle is worse than it was yesterday, but we expected that.  I'll manage.  How is your head?”

“Fels like somebody parked a heavy cruiser on it.”  Every bruise and scrape Helix wasn't feeling right after the ship went down has come for revenge, too.  “Prop your foot up on the raft wall.  Might help the swelling.”

“I will in a little while.  I want to check your eyes.”