Dexter woke up feeling more like the equivalent of a walking corpse than a functional human being. He carefully put aside the jacket he'd been snuggling with (that was progressively starting to smell less and less like Ben) before basically crash-landing out of the bed and onto the floor. From there he slumped his way towards the nearest source of caffeine before begrudgingly admitting that yet another day has started. He promised himself the first thing he was going to do after this fuckery has been dealt with was drag Ben to bed with him and just sleep for a week. And after they woke up... well what happens will happen. Something needs to be left to the imagination after all.
He dreaded every single event that would take place today. He dreaded the whole of the day, to be honest. He'd have to debrief Mandy first of all, then start work without the Professor and carry the entire burden of finding a cure by himself, as well as try not to just throw a tantrum in the midst of it (he was under a lot of stress damn it!) and security in the lab would be doubled, and everything was going to be so crowded and there was just going to be so much more tension and pressure to work harder, faster and just... ugh. Who would look forward to anything like that?
But for now, as Dexter was sitting in a half-asleep daze, enjoying his coffee, he didn't really think about any of that. No, he was thinking about how Ben used to sit on the other end of the table - way more aware than he was - with his own mug of coffee patiently waiting for Dexter to catch up with the living. Sometimes he'd crack jokes to himself about how zombie-like Dexter was after waking up, sometimes he'd just stare if he were a little less awake himself, but he'd usually wear a small unconscious smile. If not any of the options above, he'd snooze using the table as a pillow.
It was after Dexter's third cup of coffee that he stopped staring at the chair across from him and decided to shower so he could get on with this miserable day and get it over with.
-Nights Apart-
Two days later Dexter woke up where he passed out at his work station. His neck and back was sore from the awkward position he'd slept in. He was almost there, he could feel it! Or, he was optimistic? Or he was hoping? Or it was getting more and more painful after each and every test to push down the dread that was quickly seeping into every pore of his being and he was just... trying to not give up. No, he couldn't give up. The Earth and Ben were counting on him. If he can't do this... it would be the end of everything. The infected would be exterminated, not just the ones in cages, but the ones that would be infected after fuse sends more to infect and eventually there would be so few of them that the Earth would have no one to defend it and the war would be lost. Everything was counting on this cure. All this thinking so soon after waking up was giving him a headache.
If he could just... keep calm. Breathe. Focus.
Good grief he needed coffee.
-Nights Apart-
The next time Dexter woke up he was leaning against Ben's cell. Ben was sleeping in the exact same position next to him on the opposite side of the force field. Or maybe he was awake and had his eyes closed. It was hard to tell. There have been plenty of times where Dexter thought he was sleeping only to be proven wrong. He remembered coming down here to clear his head, claiming he wouldn't stay too long and then... He supposed he sat down and accidentally fell asleep? He must have been more tired than he'd thought... How long had he been awake before he came down here?
With a yawn Dexter let his head fall back against the force field, which seemed to startle Ben awake. He looked a bit concerned.
"Don't worry, my love, I'm fine" Dexter assured and vigorously rubbed face with both hands (after taking off his glasses, of course. He wasn't that out of it). With a heavy sigh he stood up and went back to the lab, foregoing coffee this morning(?). He was just thankful he wasn't called in to see Mandy.
-Nights Apart-
"Don't worry, my love, I'm fine."
Personally, Ben would have liked to call bullshit on that one. It was obvious Dexter was working until he passed out on the spot. When he walked in he was stumbling, whatever he'd said was incoherent, and he'd sat down and leaned against Ben's cell almost as soon as he'd gotten there, mumbling something about 'not staying long' and 'just taking a short break' and then promptly fell asleep. The kid was a wreak. Ben was pretty sure that if Dexter kept this up, he would end up accidentally killing himself. And he was pretty sure losing enough sleep can cause dementia (AN: as an insomniac, I did my research and that can actually happen). He wishes he could tell him to/make him slow down for a while. Now that the Professor was also locked up there was no-one telling Dexter to take a break, eat something, drink something, fucking sleep in his bed at appropriate intervals.
Knowing just how dire the situation had become made sitting in a cage all the more frustrating.
-Nights Apart-
Another day, another headache. That seemed to be the pattern recently. Dexter wasn't foolish, he knew he was showing symptoms of being severely overworked, but he had to get this done. It was literally a matter of life and death. But he was getting oh so tired, not just physically or mentally but overall just... tired of this crap! Failures day in, and day out! What was the point of all this if he wasn't going to figure out the cure in time? He was losing faith in finding a solution and he was losing it quickly. Maybe it was just because he was overworked or sleep deprived and maybe he'd have a better overall outlook on everything after a good night's sleep and a day off but everything felt so hopeless and meaningless right now and it was all so depressing! Dexter was getting impatient, and agitated and everything pissed him off.
"Are you done double checking everything already?" Dexter spat.
The poor KND threw up his hands to show he was not a threat and slowly backed away from today's subject. Said subject, of course, went through the usual ritual of growling and screaming. To which Dexter replied with a "Oh shut up will you!". He forced her eye open and all but stabbed it with the needle. The following events were also what had now become routine. She stilled after fifteen minutes, went into a state almost like sleep for thirty, and woke up as herself.
"Notify me of the results," Dexter instructed before turning to go back to his workstation. It didn't matter that he wouldn't be there. She'd eventually expire, just like all of the others. He didn't feel like actually seeing his own failure again. It didn't help anything. He'd just go to his workstation and cook up the other formulas he composed with the results of his previous failure. He might as well indulge whatever hope the others had for this, even if he didn't have any anymore. Being depended on sucked.
-Nights Apart-
He was asleep at his workstation. Again. He was still asleep but he knew this. Maybe it was some form of conscious dreaming, unconscious awareness of his surroundings or just habit, but he knew. This was confirmed when he was rudely interrupted and roused by someone shouting at a volume so high it's a miracle their lungs didn't jump out too, what with the sudden change in pressure they had to deal with.
"Whaaaaat?" Dexter droned, not lifting his head.
"The results-!"
"Just put them over there," Dexter interrupted vaguely gesturing to an unoccupied space on his desk.
"But sir-"
"Over. There."
"She's alive!"
Dexter stopped breathing. It's been over seventy-two hours, he knew that much. And she was still alive? They never made it past five hours! Maybe, just maybe...
"Give. Now." He demanded, reaching for the clipboard the KND med had with them, which they enthusiastically handed over.
After being conscious for around an hour the subject had fallen into a coma and was moved to the medical bay for observation (still strapped down). Vitals were normal. Blood tests showed everything was functioning as it should. There were still traces of the parasite. Second day: everything functional, everything normal, less traces of the parasite. Third day (today): Functional, normal, no traces of the parasite.
"Has she woken up yet?"
"They sent me as soon as she did."
"They've checked her vitals? Is she acting abnormally?"
"As I reported, I was sent as soon as she woke up."
"I'll go look for myself, then," Dexter announced, sprang up from his chair and all but sprinted to the medical bay.
-Nights Apart-
As was reported, the subject was alive and well. Her condition was stable. She wasn't acting strange yet. Holy shit could this be it? Could Dexter have finally found the cure?
"Keep her under observation and restrained for a few more days. Keep running tests. Keep me updated," He instructed the nearest nurse, and went to get some proper sleep in an actual bed.