Issue 1 Downtime

Will was sitting on the couch in the common area, channel surfing. Currently, he was frowning at the reports of Chelmsford--specifically, the graffiti that was put up overnight.

(((open)))

With the room deserted, and Will having had a busy week, it's perhaps not surprising that Will fell asleep sooner rather than later, snoring on the couch.



In his dreams, Will was trapped behind the plastic bubble of an action figure package. His box was festooned with a variety of bright colors and slogans, though rather uncharacteristically, they were unflattering. "Does nothing!" "Inferior quality!" "No refunds!"

In his dream, he was on a shelf in a department store, as people milled by, looking over him with a critical, and derogatory, eye.

"His head comes off?" Laura said, frowning. "That's gross."
"Yeah," Cecil said, nodding. "It's weird. Probably appeals to some fetish on the internet, or something."
"It looks so brittle--I'm afraid I'd snap it in two," Janice said, frowning at it more, and tapping the outside of the plastic. "Pass."
"It's not even the real deal--it's some cheap Chinese knockoff," Mira said, nodding. "You can tell from the lack of articulation. Not worthy of a second look."
"The label indicates it is a choking hazard, and that it was manufactured via a process that was outdated several years ago. Furthermore, indications are that several similar figures have been recalled in the past 3.7 years," ASHLIE observed.
"A waste of time we could be using more productively," Alyson chimed in.
Sara silently nodded. "Who has time to play with dolls, anyway?"

Will screamed, silently, in his packaging, as people began to disperse. He tried to pound on the plastic bubble, but the twistties around his arms and legs kept him pretty much motionless.

Sam walked up and frowned as she walked over to the shelf. She was dressed in a green stock clerk's apron, with the logo of "Morrigan's Department Store" in bright, cheerful red letters imprisoned on it. "Even on remainder, this damn thing won't sell," she said, picking the packaging up off the shelf. "It's just taking up space for the new models."

She walked into the back, and dumped Will's packaging into a cart, filled with out-of-date fads, out-of-season clothing, and damaged merchandise. "No use whatsoever."

"I don't know about that," a new voice said from behind, reaching in and pulling out the box. "You just have to be creative with it."

Turning the box around, the face of Quinton Watson loomed over Will. "I bet I can kitbash the hell out of this. Some of the parts might be useful here and there. You, my friend, have a date with my workbench." Quinton laughed, and laughed, and laughed.


Back in the common room, Will tossed and turned in his sleep.

Laura, sporting long, brilliant red hair stopped on her way through the common room. "Will? Are you okay?"

Will mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep, and tossed and turned.

"Will!" Laura said more loudly, moving over to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Gah!" Will shouted, sitting up violently, chest heaving. "Whazza."

"You looked like you were having a nightmare," Laura said. "Everything alright?"

"Mmm. Yeah, I'm...

...Laura?" Will said, blinking.

"In the flesh," she smiled, "You sure you're okay?"

"Mm. Must not be, if I'm falling asleep on the couch," Will dodged.

Laura sat down, shaking her hair back to it's normal shorter, purple state. "Want to talk about it? I mean, I know you don't know me that well, but I've been told I'm a decent listener."

"It's just...

Ever since Black Air, I've had occasional nightmares. It's to be expected--I'm sure it's nothing serious."

"To be nosy Doctor Laura for a bit... Just because it's expected, it doesn't mean it's not serious."

"It's just dreams. It's all in my head, and what's in my head can't hurt me."

Something about Laura's body language gave the distinct impression she was biting her tongue. "If you say so."

Will looked at her strangely. "Out with it."

"Honestly not my place and I haven't had nearly enough alcohol, but," she took a deep breath. "What's in your head not hurting you is a bunch of bull and I would have thought you would know that. If it's something bad enough to be giving you recurring nightmares, then it's something you should really get a handle on."

"I'm not crazy, Laura. I'm fine. I have it under control," he said, defensively.

She held up her hands, "Like I said, not my place. You didn't ask for my advice, I shouldn't have offered. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Will sighed. "Maybe I'm just a little shaken up."

"No worries, man," she said, relaxing. "Nightmares can stir up some serious crap."

"Yeah. I don't need a shrink to tell me where these ones are coming from, too," Will nodded.

"Bad times, huh?"

"Yeah. Kidnapped and...experimented on.

I'll save you the gory details."

"I appreciate that," she said. "It still gives you nightmares?"

"Every now and again. They had died down for a bit, but..."

"Something's stirred them back up."

"Eh, it's probably normal. We did just recently save Miranda and whatnot; that's probably brought them back to the forefront."

"Reopening the wounds. Yeah, I could see that."

"So, yeah. It's to be expected and nothing to worry about. I just need to not fall asleep in public."

"If you say you've got a handle on it, then yeah, everything should be cool."

"Yeah...." Will trailed off. "Thanks for your concern, but I'll get through this."

"By yourself..."

"I don't need to be drugged up. I can power through this," he said, though who he was trying to convince might be less clear.

"Not advocating drugs. It might help just to find someone to talk to."

"It's not exactly something there's group therapy for."

"So one-on-one therapy then."

"Maybe you're right," Will sighed. "It just feels like admitting defeat."

"As cliche as it sounds, admitting you need help is the better course on stuff like this."

"My options for help are limited, though. The current shrink is on sabbatical, and I can't exactly go into town to find another."