Cid sat up with a jerk as strong and as sleep-wrenching as the five memorable seconds he'd allowed the Highwind to be put in Barret's not-so-capable hands. He felt a little woozy as he stood, and a little sick, but his physical state wasn't so worrisome to him as what it implied.
Had nightshift ended so quickly? He remembered having a ridiculously unhelpful conversation with Vincent, as well as receiving more taunts over his nonexistent marriage to Shera.
He shook his head, putting a hand to it and wincing his eyes closed. Whatever; this place's timeline was hard to gauge, and that wasn't even considering all of the outside factors that had made his friends and enemies about two years older than when he'd last seen them.
When the usual nurse came to take him away to a suspiciously good-smelling meal, Cid wasn't as loud or disruptive as usual, instead opting to eat in silence as he contemplated those differences in chronology that he just couldn't seem to get out of his damn head.
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Had nightshift ended so quickly? He remembered having a ridiculously unhelpful conversation with Vincent, as well as receiving more taunts over his nonexistent marriage to Shera.
He shook his head, putting a hand to it and wincing his eyes closed. Whatever; this place's timeline was hard to gauge, and that wasn't even considering all of the outside factors that had made his friends and enemies about two years older than when he'd last seen them.
When the usual nurse came to take him away to a suspiciously good-smelling meal, Cid wasn't as loud or disruptive as usual, instead opting to eat in silence as he contemplated those differences in chronology that he just couldn't seem to get out of his damn head.