Day 2, early morning: A doctor a Day

As no conversation was started between them, Samson continued to sit quietly, waiting for his charge to enter the Galley. He had to eventually, and if he didn't, it was cause for further concern.

Finally, the boy arrived, hair damp from a shower. Samson ignored the glare. Daniel, or 'Dillon' as seemed to be the new name he'd claimed, didn't seem to want to enter.

Clearing his throat, he past Dillon on the way out. "Don't let the Lieutenant see you standing around. If I were you, I'd find something to clean, something to do, last man ended up scraping gunk from the garbage chutes with a toothbrush. And I'm fairly certain she liked him."

Dillon's expression didn't change much, but he seemed to be considering his options.

'Don't leave... You need to eat,' pleaded Samson silently, trying not to watch Dillon too intently.

Thankfully, Dillon entered. Samson held in his sigh of relief. "Good morning," he said pleasantly.

Dillon just kept scowling, ignoring him and making a B-line to the coffee pot.

"I wouldn't," said Samson, pushing aside his own mug. "The engineer added some questionable ingredients."

Dillon stopped with a frustrated sigh and went for a glass of water instead.

"Sleep well?"

Dillon still didn't answer. He made himself a bowl of leftover stew and started to heat it up.

Samson sighed. "He's worried sick about you, you know."

"If he really cared, he'd be here himself," said Dillon. His voice wasn't angry. Just tired. He wasn't facing Samson. He kept his eyes on the microwave (?).

"You know he has responsibilities."

"Priorities, apparently..." Dillon muttered audibly.

"Daniel..." sighed Samson.

"Why can't he just leave me in peace?"

"You know perfectly well why we don't trust you to be on your own."

Dillon would prefer they were alone, but the material wasn't too sensitive. "Really? Why? Because I'm miserable?"

Samson sighed again. "Daniel, what day is it?"

Dillon turned to face Samson. "What?"

"What day is it? Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday?"

"It's..." The answer that wasn't coming took far too long.

"When's the last time you ate? Even half a meal?"

"I ate yesterday."

"What? When?"

He made oatmeal, didn't he? No, he'd been interrupted... But he had... Haddie gave him some candy.... One piece... And a few roasted nuts. He'd had a single sip of whiskey last night.... But the day before! He made soup. He... Didn't eat any of it. He'd tasted it, though...

He didn't answer.

"Have you been taking your medication everyday? Do you have any?"

"Of course I have!"

"Really? Today, too?"

"Yes." No... No he'd forgotten today.

Thankfully, there was a beep. The stew was ready.

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