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[thisismadfreaky]

[How many days has this been going on, again? He isn't even sure any more. He sleeps, but it's not restful because he wakes up in another version of Wonderland every time and he's awake the whole time there and-- ay dios mio, everything's a mess. He's exhausted and has taken to mainlining coffee when he's awake just to attempt to function.

And misery loves company, right?]

Does anybody else feel like time and sleep have both lost all meaning by now? Because I'm not sure I know what either of them are any more. This has to end sometime, doesn't it? Come be miserably awake with me, Wonderland. At least if we're talking, we aren't sleeping and at least it's on our own terms. Or something. I don't know, I'm tired, come keep me virtual company.

[ooc; just so y'all know, if I make public posts, everyone feel free to threadjack everywhere to everyone all the time. I love that shit. Blow it up. I welcome it.]

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[hypoxic]

We can't let preconceptions distort our perception of the data. If you'd been able to detect something that came before, that would be acceptable confirmation that this isn't a collective hallucination.

[Cisco sounds so sure of himself, but if this Cisco doesn't exist, then it could be a subconscious expression of his own delusion.]

...We need more data.

[He's just not entirely sure what kind of data could help.]

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[thisismadfreaky]

No, no that's not-- this is real, Fitz! Us, here, with memories of something besides this, it's... [Despite the emphatic start, he loses steam halfway through, voice dropping off quieter, more doubtful as a frown creases his forehead.] it's real, right?

[Now he's doubting it, unsure of what's truth or fiction and there's kind of a certain panic rising to settle in his chest. Was it real? Or was everything he thought was his life just something made up by Wonderland to toy with him?

He leans over his knees, palms pressed to his eyes for a long moment before he looks up and nods his agreement with Fitz's last statement.] Yeah. Yeah, we just...have to figure out what we're looking for. [He scrubs a hand down his face and slides his chair back toward the desk to actually look at what they did get, for the sake of something to focus on. Maybe they do this again, another vibe in the future to see if he could pick up on something else, something from somebody's home world, compare the two...]

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[hypoxic]

[He passes charts and handwritten notes to Cisco, and rolls his chair over to give him a better look at the monitors' readouts.]

I think -- I ought to talk to Jemma about this more. She's offered to help me sort it out.

[Does Cisco even know her? Would he know her if he's not really here?]

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[thisismadfreaky]

[His eyes pour over the results and the notes, but...he's pretty sure he's too tired for this. Everything's just a blur and he's having a hard time focusing on any of it at all. He can practically feel the fatigue sinking into his bones, like it's all caught up with him now that his high of thinking he found something is over.

He's pretty sure Fitz's voice is the only thing that stopped him from falling asleep right there at the desk. He's slow to respond, trying to break away from what he was looking at and focus on the other an's words. His own sound distant, distracted, and whether because he's too engrossed in what he's doing or it's because he's losing grip on consciousness is debatable.] Jemma... she's like you're Caitlin, right? I haven't met her yet, but yeah, another pair of eyes is a good idea.

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[hypoxic]

She's more than that.

[And here, she doesn't reciprocate. So maybe he should return to where she does.

He lets his head loll sideways against his shoulder.]

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[thisismadfreaky]

[Cisco isn't too far behind him, still distracted by trying to focus on what he's doing, chin propped in his hand, and slowly falling to drop on his other arm across the table.

So much for getting any more work done, boys~]