Ohio

[highinthemiddle]

open post. ota, memes, prompts, w/e. use whatever format you like.
if you want a starter from me, let me know.

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[highinthemiddle]

Ohio wakes with a thrash of limbs and a curse, heart hammering as he rises. His mouth is bone dry and everything hurts. Every muscle has been wound tight and screams at this disturbance, and an echo of a familiar, stabbing pain still has a firm grip on his head. But the worst of that is over, he can move, he has to figure out where the fuck-

He's aboard the Quality. It’s dark, thank god it’s dark, but these are all the smells and sounds of his ship and this is his bed. Ohio lets his arm slide out from under him and collapses gratefully, closing his eyes. He surrenders the moment to the limits of his stupid, human body, and just breathes.

It's okay. He's on the ship, which means the team got him back to the ship, which means they have to be okay. But even knowing this, it still takes a little while for Ohio to weather the spike of panic that woke him combined with the one he got from remembering he'd broke in the field again.

God fucking damn it. It should be clearer in his head than this. It was a bad one, this time.

A few minutes pass. He sits up, though gingerly. "Reti, lights. Low." The AI complies without a word, and he winces only a little as he takes stock of himself (in one piece, though sore) the time (it's been four hours, christ) and the table by his bed. Someone follows instructions around here, at least: they left him water and a painkiller. He downs both with little ceremony, runs his hand through his hair, and stands.

He needs to find out what happened, he needs to check his crew, he needs to shower, but above all, right now? He's hungry.

It's something simple to fix while Ohio gets his head together. He looks as bad as he feels as he drags himself down to the galley. Things will be easier to manage once he's eaten something.