"Get it off," Jason groans, unceremoniously shoving Charlie down and off him, not bothering to wipe the dog spittle off his face. Moving at all sends fireworks of pain exploding in the back of his head, and when his eyes flutter open for a second the entire world seems an atomic bomb going off interminably. His spine curls a bit, like his entire body is making a fist of itself, and his face presses a bit further into the couch pillow.

Hell. At least it's Beth and not Dorian. He can't even find it in him to scold her for breaking her schedule, nor even remember what her schedule was. It's lost to the maelstrom.

"Christ. Do I look alright?"