[Martin's propped up with pillows in bed whenever Tim arrives. His door is open, and there's a mug of tea on the nightstand beside him. He's had so much to drink at this point, but restoring his fluids had been vital once they'd got back to the house. He's pale and feeling incredibly weak, drifting in and out from a fitful doze.
The door pulls him back toward consciousness.]
Oh, um... hey, Tim. I'm really sorry about scaring you like that. I was... I'm okay now.
no subject
The door pulls him back toward consciousness.]
Oh, um... hey, Tim. I'm really sorry about scaring you like that. I was... I'm okay now.
[Sort of.]