What an exhausting night. Granted, most of Claude's nights weren't too restful these days, but he hadn't expected one of the buses to crash. If that hadn't have happened, they probably would have made it back to the institute before the sun set and things got out of hand.

Man, he hadn't gotten anything done last night, he inwardly grumbled. What a waste.

But today was a new day, and he was in one piece -- two things he knew he couldn't take for granted in this place. Of course, the rash creeping up his arm had only gotten larger since the last time he'd looked at it, and he was decidedly more nauseated this morning. Even so, Claude did his best to suck it up and get up out of bed once the nurse came to collect him. From the sound of the announcement, he wasn't the only one dealing with these weird symptoms, which meant he didn't have an excuse to wallow around all day.

With his condition in mind, the stillness of the chapel sounded like the better choice. Since that was where he normally went on Sundays anyway, the nurse didn't bat an eye, and instead cheerfully escorted him to the second floor.

Not many people had arrived yet, which meant he had a lot of empty pews to choose from. Claude took a seat toward the edge of the chapel, keeping his rash close to the wall so the irritated skin wouldn't be the first thing anyone saw if they sat down next to him. With that taken care of, he let out a small breath, closed his eyes, and simply rested for now. If he was lucky, his nausea would clear up by the time brunch rolled around.

[For mother dearest!]