Spilled

Jason sits bolt upright in bed and stares into the dimply lit room. The nightmare had been so vivid…so real…

He rubs a hand over his face, trying to rid himself of the images. It had been a long time since he’d had a nightmare about current times, and those around him at TJY. Most likely, this episode with Con had brought it on, but knowing the origin didn’t help things any. Apart from his nightmares connected to his past, it was rare that he was tormented with imaginative violence towards his close friends.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees to put his face in his hands, trying to wake up completely and move on from the dream.


Con grimaces as the carton of milk slips from his grasp and falls to the floor with a slosh and splat, spilling half the contents onto the tile. Muttering to himself he reaches for the paper towels. If Rick were here, he’d be telling him to get back in bed, but he really did feel fine, surprisingly enough. He was just apparently incapable of taking the milk out of the refrigerator without making a mess.

On his hands and knees, he's pretty sure he heard Jamie's voice, though mostly assumes since she's supposed to be stopping by. “Yeah, yeah, I’m in here,” he calls.