For a moment, Wash feels...better. Calmer. A little bit less like his life is not worth living.
Then he glances up and sees the golden orb floating over his shoulder and the robot floating in the cell. God dammit, he's hallucinating. What's worse, even his hallucinations are lecturing him about his bad decisions.
He would hallucinate the helpful one.
"Hallucinating, evidently," he hears himself saying. He shouldn't - he shouldn't even acknowledge what he's seeing, because it will be that much worse when it finally disappears and he's alone - but something has relaxed his walls. Blame the orb, or the painkillers, or the fact that he still remembers nine months of mostly good things even though he knows those nine months were all one long, involved dream. Blame his tendency to make really shitty decisions. He doesn't know anymore. "What are you doing here?"
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Then he glances up and sees the golden orb floating over his shoulder and the robot floating in the cell. God dammit, he's hallucinating. What's worse, even his hallucinations are lecturing him about his bad decisions.
He would hallucinate the helpful one.
"Hallucinating, evidently," he hears himself saying. He shouldn't - he shouldn't even acknowledge what he's seeing, because it will be that much worse when it finally disappears and he's alone - but something has relaxed his walls. Blame the orb, or the painkillers, or the fact that he still remembers nine months of mostly good things even though he knows those nine months were all one long, involved dream. Blame his tendency to make really shitty decisions. He doesn't know anymore. "What are you doing here?"