ASSIGNED TO TASK FORCE 37 OF PEGASUS FLEET
Previous Next

Trying to Recuperate

Posted on Fri Jan 1st, 2021 @ 2:23pm by Lieutenant Commander Calvin Morgan

Mission: Enforced Intermission
Location: Earth Bar
Timeline: A couple days before assignment

Calvin sat at the bar, an empty bottle of whiskey next to him with a glass almost empty in his hand resting on the bar. His clothing was more disheveled than normal, his eyes sunken slightly, the company he had been chatting with long departed. He looked up when he heard the distant voice seemingly coming in his direction.

"Bud, bar is almost closing," the Bartender said gently to Calvin, who simply nodded in return.

Dropping some money on the bar top, Calvin slid off the stool and grasped at the bar, waiting for the world to settle in his eyes before moving. As the door closed behind him, he turned to walk down the street. He wasn't sure where he was going yet, but he reckoned he'd find it when he found it.

The night was cool, but comfortable underneath a light jacket. The street was well lit, especially for this part of town. The occasional light breeze felt good on Calvin's face, which was rosy red from the amount of alcohol he drank.

That was the only thing he could feel, the light breeze, and the occasional gurgle of a stomach that he knew wasn't going to be happy with him at some point tonight. He didn't want to feel anything else tonight.

How far he walked he didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure where he was at this point. Calvin had emptied his stomach a while back, and found a bench to sit on. The world was blurry, but so was his mind, and he enjoyed the anxiety of a blurry world over the inner monologue of his mind.

But it wouldn’t stay quiet. The monologue whispered about his mind. A lecture to his aching brain. Pictures being lit up by a strobe light. He could see sickbay. He could see those who survived, and those who didn’t. He could see the items and actions he couldn’t do in the time allowed.

Calvin jolted out of the bench he was sitting on from an explosion of a console in his mind. He swatted for something to balance himself with before hitting the ground, bracing with an arm and his face. The cold concrete felt good on the growing bruise on his face. He stopped fighting gravity and let the safety of sleep take over his body. “My BAC should keep REM away...” He mumbled to himself softly.

 

Previous Next

labels_subscribe