“What are...” A slow pulsing begins, although he thinks it’s from tiredness. He presses the heel of his hands to his eyes, like any normal person would trying to ward off a headache, but when he moves them away and blinks, the world stays blurry-distorted.

“What?” Obviously what she told him and what’s happening to him isn’t registering, if it ever does. Mitchell scoots back on the bed, eyes wide, pupils dilated as he watches reality shift around him.

His hands curl into fists and clench the sheets underneath him. “Hasi, I’m scared.” It’s not something big bad John would ever admit to; it sounds more like the pleading tone he took back on the first day she met him in the arrival room.

Which means his other side is going to come up roaring soon enough.