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The four of them joke about it often, though it's not really funny. Hercules Mulligan is the only sane man in their entire crew, "And thank God for it too," Lafayette comments, rolling their eyes. They weren't so nonchalant the last time their anxiety got the best of them and they had a panic attack in the middle of the night. But Mulligan snorts laughingly anyways and finishes his soda (they don't keep alcohol in the apartment). Alexander is studiously ignoring the rest of them in favor of writing a paper that isn't due for another three weeks. Mulligan makes a mental note to make him go to bed later. Alexander won't sleep when he's on a manic swing unless someone forces him to, and Mulligan does not want a repeat of what happened the first time, when he didn't know better. He also makes a note to talk with John tomorrow, when the both of them are a little less tired. The man's been unusually quiet despite the rather cheery atmosphere, normally a sign that his depression is bothering him. Lafayette is saying something again. "-french, non?" Mulligan shrugs in response, unsure what was said. Lafayette narrows their eyes."You were doing that thing again weren't you." they playfully accuse.
"Guilty as charged." Mulligan sighs. They all know him as well as he knows all of them. Alex turns around at the topic of conversation.
"What's the diagnosis, Doctor Herc?" he asks, breathless and dramatic in his overdone imitation of a daytime TV nurse. John cracks a smile, the first since they had gathered in the common room. Mulligan rolls his eyes at Alex but indulges in a smile himself, if only to encourage John.
"Well, you need to go to sleep for one. I know you're approaching twenty-four hours up." Mulligan says to Alex, before turning to John and gently suggesting, "I think the two of us need to have another talk." John nods. Satisfied, Mulligan turns his gaze on Lafayette. "Have you taken your Xanax yet?" Lafayette blushes and gets up to do so. when they return, Alex has joined John and Mulligan on the couch. He's dozing off with his head on John's lap and his feet in Mulligan's, who would complain if John wasn't smiling indulgently at Alexander's increasingly sleepy features. Lafayette plops back down next to Mulligan and leans on his shoulder.
"You're comfortable, Hercules." they sigh. Once the Xanax fully kicks in, the mix of meds and the lateness of the hour will have them dropping off where they sit. Alexander is already gone and John is quickly drooping, head back against the cushions. Mulligan knows he'll be carrying each of them to bed. But that's ok. They're ok. And that is Mulligan's main concern.