[ finch is stretched out on his belly on the bed, face buried in his arms, naked from the waist up. the video is propped up on something, so the image of him is skewed. he's twitching a little, now and then, fingers curled white-knuckled in the coverlet. ]

Jesus fucking Christ. [ his voice is muffled, faintly shaky, not at all his normal bold self. ] That sucked. This sucks. This whole goddamn ship just-- [ he trails off, finally lifting his eyes, peering over the tops of his arms at the camera. he looks tired, sharp-edged, distracted (hungry-- but isn't he always?). ] .. So. That shit happen often? 'Cause if I'm gonna' be thrown off my routine more than once in a while, I'm gonna' need to start making a plan for emergencies. [ he rubs a hand over his face, then rolls onto his back, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. ]

.. In other news, there are creepier monsters out there than me. Fuckin' good to know. [ he reaches up, slapping the off button. the screen goes dark. ]

[ the feed opens on two pairs of feet; one large, one smaller. then jenna's voice comes through. ]

Tell you what. I'm going to leave you here, with this broadcasting-- [ the shot jerks a little, exposing an empty and spotless kitchen. ] and that way you can have something to talk to while I try and figure out where we are right now. I'll be back in a flash, you've seen how fast I can move now, and you know I'll hear you. Okay?

[ not waiting for an answer, jenna presses her comm into desmond’s hand and brings it up a little, so his chest is in frame, squeezing his shoulder with her other hand. ] I'll be right back, I promise.

Right. [Desmond sounds... Well shellshocked and crazy pretty much covers it. You can hear him swallow in that sort of pained, half-panting way, like he's out of breath and can't quite manage to calm himself down.] Assuming anyone's still out there, yeah? [He might be talking to Jenna, but she’s already gone. The comm shifts violently, flashing to Desmond’s face for only a half second (long enough to see he has both eyes and doesn't seem to be missing anything vital) and then to the ceiling and then back to the floor.] I don't understand what more it wants from me. Three bloody years of my life, pushing a damned button wasn't enough. I've been to the heart. I saw the light again. It was supposed to put me back. It was supposed to- [The camera swings by so fast you can easily tell that Desmond was gearing up to smash it against the nearest wall before-]

--whoa whoa, hey. Hey, it's okay. It's okay, I'm right here. Des? Desmond? [ she crouches down, taking the comm back into her own hands and setting it on the counter, where it films the tops of their heads for the moment. ] We're fine, look. We're even back in the main part of the ship, so that trek back is cancelled. I'm--

[ she pauses, hand reaching up into the picture again as she reaches for the comm, setting in on her upraised knees so it's more or less centered on the two of them, looking a whole lot worse for the wear. ]

If someone could prove big brother is always watching and figure out what floor we're on for me, that would be great. Who needs civil liberties, anyway? --don't get any extra ideas, Nathan. [ there's a tinge of forced, unnatural cheer to her tone, and her gaze darts over to desmond every few moments as if she needs to make sure he's there and fine. ] And maybe whoever pulls rescue duty, bring him something with a lot of sugar in it? That would be great.

[Desmond rubs his face, weary.] Someone tell Tyke I found what I was lookin' for, yeah? It's all true.

[ she inhales, about to add something else; then she shakes her head, lips pressed together in a tired line and jabs the off button. ]



( ooc | they're on floor thirty eight, where they were dumped after being rescued by ward from some Seriously Bad Metaplot Shit. colors for ease: jenna and desmond. )