Dated to Monday June 11th, Post-Homeplot.

[_bridget_jones_]

It had been a long weekend, predictably, considering that Bridget had spent a good portion of it making sure that Tim and his strange roommate didn't die of dehydration. She hoped that Tim's roommate would at least think to thank her when he awoke, considering that she'd had to endure listening to him talk while he slept

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[fisherprice_tim]

Tim yawned for a long moment before his eyes opened. He stared blurrily at the ceiling, frowned, and sat up.

"Mruh?" he said, and then his head started to clear, and he thought Oh Thank God. Then he blinked and looked over at-

"Bridge?" he said.

[_bridget_jones_]

Oh, Thank God were some of the first words to immediately come to her mind as well, because every minute that day that he was still asleep made it look more and more like the island had somehow gotten even more cruel.

Her shoulders sagged a little with relief, and Dixon snuggled against her shoulder, possibly not quite awake himself.

"Um...good morning," She said, from the spot where she sat- near the end of his bed.

[fisherprice_tim]

"Hey," he said, looking very confused.

"I had..." He scooted forward to sit at the edge of his bed, near her, an reached over to pat Dixon gently on his little back. "That was... Was I asleep the whole weekend? Really? Or did I just have a very strange dream about... Very strange... island stuff?"

[_bridget_jones_]

She nodded a little. "Since Friday," She responded, "It...it happened last year as well."

Bridget remembered all too well trying to wake Richard up to find him almost unresponsive.