[RL with Birkin, possibly Krauser and Wesker if they want]

[screwloose]

Stein sat on the floor in his favourite laboratory, the cold of the concrete soaking into his body and leaching the warmth from it even through his clothes and lab coat. He hadn't turned on the lights when he entered the room, so it was nearly pitch-black except for a small square of light that lay across the examination table in the middle.

At some point when talking to Birkin, he had knocked over a rolling tray table, and several beakers had shattered, sprinkling glass like caltrops across the floor.

His phone sat on the floor next to him, forgotten. At thirty he had stopped counting, but Birkin still wasn't here.

He sat against the wall, humming to himself and flinching away from dark movements and shapes that only he could see, his eyes darting around restlessly in their sockets.

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[touchofgenius.livejournal.com]

Birkin wasn't really sure why he bothered counting himself. All he knew was that by the time he sprinted up the steps to Stein's house and threw open the door, he was at 128 seconds. His sense of direction had never been that good, Stein had no idea where he was, and it wasn't like he had seen most of the house the last time he was here anyway. Just the bedroom, the bathroom, the living room - which is where he currently stood - and... The lab. That had to have been it; that glass he heard shatter must have been a group of beakers or something. And best of all, he actually remembered how to get there.

He took off running down the hall, quite nearly tripping a few times before reaching his destination. 156. "Stein?" Birkin couldn't see a thing. He was used to darkness, but this was ridiculous. Vaguely remembering seeing a light switch when he was looking around the lab after being attacked and tied down, he groped for the switch, sighing softly in relief as he found it. 179. The room was bathed in light. And there was Stein, surrounded by broken glass.

Birkin took the opportunity to catch his breath a bit; running that whole way had made his lungs burn and now that he was coming down off his adrenaline high, the scientist was really starting to feel it. "Sorry I'm a little late." 201. He smiled, not daring to show his worry. "Traffic was just hell."