in the captain's chair

Jim was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. It was as exciting as it sounded. He figured he should stay in this weekend since he was still healing up from his adventures last weekend. His face was still bruised but it looked much better than it had. He didn't look like a stupid raccoon anymore.

His torso and neck were still marked with fading yellow bruises but he could deal. He'd had worse. Despite all that, he still wasn't going to be moving much. It was a night for quiet contemplation and introspection.

...

Goddamn, Jim was bored.

[Open door/post, sure]

Jim was almost a little sad that everyone was back to normal. But, he'd get over it. Besides, he had lots and lots of memories from that oh so fun weekend. The only thing he didn't have was pictures but eh, he'd get over that too.

Tonight was boring, though, and he could have used something amusing to entertain him. He'd gotten what almost seemed like a freaking form letter from his mother today. It was stilted, cold and detached but Jim guessed he should be glad she remembered he was alive and in other universe. It wasn't like he could count on Frank keeping her updated.

Whatever, he didn't care. He'd tossed the letter on the desk with everything else he had basically. His desk was a little crowded but it was still in one piece. He'd clean it later. Maybe. And if things got too crowded, he'd just throw things on Jackson's death.

Jim had gotten bored enough to actually do his laundry. And said laundry was now on his bed, unfolded and gathering wrinkles by the minute. Folding it just seemed like a daunting prospect.

Maybe he'd make someone else do it.

[Door's open as is the post]