[b]Day 2: Sunrise[/b]

[i]" [...] you can come to me anytime you need someone to talk to [...] "[/i]

Tyrelle had heard this and similar phrasings thereof more than a few times in his years since being rescued, from his therapist to teachers, and even his friends; his partners back home were probably the most noteworthy of those, however. At first, he had feared the words. [i]Feared them[/i]. He often worried about speaking through his troubles with others, concerned that they would be upset with him in one way or another. It had taken him around six months or more to talk to his therapist about something other than how he was sleeping, eating, exercising, and socializing. Before actually opening up to the professional about the things he'd seen, the things he'd [i]been through[/i], he had always worried that it wasn't his place to dump all of that on someone, regardless or not of whether it was their job. The feeling only intensified when it came to those who [i]weren't[/i] being paid to listen to him cry, especially when those people were people he was supposed to impress in one way or another.

Tyrelle may not have had any interest in joining the recon team of his own accord, but he still knew that Paula was his superior in that regard, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead her to think he was at all unfit for the position Desmond had mapped out for him. Besides that, he'd grown to understand that most people really only said things like that because it was what was expected of them by society. He didn't know Paula, didn't know how to read her at all, she was...different...and that made it difficult for him to get any sense of what kind of person she truly was. All that in mind, he assumed she didn't [i]actually[/i] want to talk to him about things which were bothering him, and rather, just wanted to be on the lookout for any indication that he wasn't fit to fulfill his duty.

As such, Tyrelle gave no verbal response to the interim chief at her offer of confidence, and merely only nodded as he looked, shifting his weight once more in a still step back, as though considering leaving right then and there. Perhaps that was what had triggered her to mention the trek that would be taking place later that day. He laughed at her words about komodo dragons and pirates and joked along with her by saying, "Oh man, you had me at komodo," before his smile faded once more and he let out a soft sigh before tacking on "Though...if I'm being honest, ma'am, I think I might sit this trek out... I...I uh, I'd rather make myself busy around the camp while we're still here...I mean, someone's gotta fend off the pirates if they show up on the beach, right?" he tried to joke again, but the words were tight and awkward, "I guess what I'm saying, ma'am," he started again, "Is I think I'd be better suited to watching over things here than gallivanting off in the jungle...overnight...when ya'll'll already have Desmond with ya."

[hr]

[b]Day 2: Sunrise; Med Tent Alpha[/b]

The medical tent was more or less silent as Dr. Biermann quietly made his rounds. Checking over charts and vitals and [i]the supplies[/i]. [i]By God[/i], did he check over the supplies. Every time his path led him over to the various carts and containers and everything else that housed their supplies, he checked, counting again and again and again and again. Every time, he knew the numbers hadn't changed, but every time he found himself counting once again before having to force himself away. Their stock was limited, it would not grow over time, they couldn't simply [i]make[/i] more at this point. They had to be wise, and careful, and most of all frugal...but what did any of that even matter when he couldn't even [i]think[/i]?
He had pushed the pain off long enough. He had fought his craving, his desire, his [i]need[/i] for longer than he could even be sure anymore. Making one last round through the tent, ensuring, [i]absolutely[/i], that none of the patients yet were awake, and listening carefully to hear if anyone else was coming, finally, [i]finally[/i], the doctor made his way over to the supplies once more. This time, however, he didn't count. He knew the numbers. He knew exactly where everything was. Most importantly, however, he knew what was least likely to be noticed first should anyone actually find it missing, and which would be the most easily explainable as well. Two little pills. Just two little pills. A typical dose. It wouldn't be hard to convince anyone who questioned it that the dosing had simply failed to be recorded when given to a patient during the rush of things.
Chasing the tablets with a swig of water, he stood for a moment by the place he had gotten them, staring at the box as though it glowed with an energy that screamed of what he'd done. Quickly, he finished off the bottle, crushing it in his fist before finally, [i]finally[/i], making his way out of the tent in search of anyone willing to relieve him of his station. Hopefully, the medication would help him to finally get some rest...