As the number of quiet voices seemed to grow, Claude couldn't help but wonder what it was he was going to do with himself like this. Getting to the chapel with the help of the nurse had been difficult enough. How was he going to be able to check on his friends or be useful to anyone at night? Under normal circumstances, he might have recalled the time Ashton had been confined to his wheelchair, but right then the painful, sandy feeling in both of his eyes made it hard to concentrate on much of anything outside the fact his eyes were damaged. The cold compresses were apparently supposed to help soothe them throughout the day while the nurses helped him along, but what was going to happen once the lights went out?

Nails digging into the palm of his hand, he unconsciously clenched his teeth. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he was unaware of someone sliding into the pew beside him. It wasn't until he heard a familiar voice and felt the weight of his friend's hand on his shoulder that he realized who was next to him. Guy...

Though Claude opened his mouth to answer, the words didn't immediately come. What could he possibly say? This wasn't the same as a monster attack. This wasn't at all like anything that had happened to him before. Claude swallowed hard and took another breath. He had to collect himself. If he couldn't at least try to keep it together around Guy, then he was going to have a rough time getting through the rest of the day. Claude just had to remind himself he wasn't the only one this had happened to. He could get through this.

"They came for me," he finally answered, his voice quiet and hoarse. "During dinner. Like...what happened to Luke and Ashton before." Some referred to it as "sleep studies", but Claude had no intention of using that deceptively innocuous term for what effectively amounted to torture. He'd always felt that way, but he never imagined he'd get caught up in any of it himself.