While Isabel did her own packing upstairs, Wyatt was finishing packing in his own room. He'd already orbed a lot of stuff home, leaving the important stuff to be taken along on the road trip. He was stalling, just a bit, distracting himself by checking his email and looking up places online they might visit on their trip.

[Goodbye post -- meant to have this up much earlier, but I was traveling all day. May be SP at times because my parents will pout at me for being on the computer while I'm home. Late pings are fine. :) ]

Wyatt woke up and peered blearily around, momentarily confused and having no idea where he was. He was on the floor. Not his floor. His head was throbbing and his stomach was definitely rolling.

He pushed himself up and tried to look around. When he spied the empty bottles and glasses strewn about on the floor, some memory started to return. Anders. Bridge. Ambrosia. Space vodka.

Bridge and Anders were in their beds and his clothes were still on. That much was a comfort, at least.