"Washington."

Wash blinked, shook himself and looked up at Locus. "What?"

Locus scrutinised him for a moment. At least Wash assumed he was. Hard to tell behind his helmet. "You got distracted again."

Shit. Wash wanted to scrub a hand over his face, but that's fucking tough with a helmet on. He straightened up anyway, stretched. "Sorry."

Those periods have been happening with some frequency lately. it's a bit worrying. Ever since there'd been that accident. His memory of what had happened is fuzzy, but Locus had told him that there'd been a grenade during a skirmish with the fucking Freelancer and her colour coded morons. There's a few new scars to thank her for when they finally take her out.

"You're dismissed for the day. Rest. We need you in top condition."

"I know. I will be."

Locus nods. "Remember to take the medication."

Right. The fucking pills the doctor had given him. Creepy fucking guy, but the meds had helped him to sleep, and made the moments of lost time less frequent and shorter. "I will. Tomorrow."

He heads out of the office room and hesitates before drifting towards what passes for a mess in this dump. It's just a temporary base; they'll be moving in a few days so it's sparse and basic, and then fully empty at this time of night. The planning session with Locus had run late and even if he's not really hungry, he knows he'll regret not eating.

There's one solitary figure sitting at a rough table when Wash enters.