Ripley relaxed when Graham responded, letting his body go back to the generally slow process of waking back up from one of his narcoleptic attacks. He was exhausted, freezing and uncomfortable, but at least now he knew where he was.

It never stopped being a disconcerting feeling, waking up after them. Like he had missed a chunk of his life and was not sure where it left him.

He pulled in tighter on himself, watching snow and lights pass him by outside the window. It was a bit of a mistake to do, however, because by the time they had arrived at his place Ripley was out of it again, curled on himself like a dog in the backseat of Graham's car.