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"Wenona? Wenona, w-we really need your help..."
The last thing Wenona needed was to be interrupted right now, but when she saw the pale, frightened look on Diana's face, it was worrying enough that Wenona thought she'd better help. It was even more worrying when Diana half jogged, half ran to the dining hall, telling Wenona it was Ulysses in trouble.
Diana was right. Ulysses looked...off. Worse than he'd been this morning. Jean was quietly talking to him, reaching out for the knife in his hand. To his side, there were some vegetables on a chopping board, seemingly ones Ulysses might have been dicing up...until now.
"Nobody else is here, lad. Just us two." Jean held out his hand. "You can give me the knife now."
Ulysses whipped his head around, inching backwards. "I-I can still hear them, Jean...they're here, they're still here-"
"It's only Wenona and Diana here with us. Don't be afraid." He reaches out again, only for Ulysses to hold the knife close to his chest.
Wenona frowned. Hear who? She took one step forwards, planning to talk some sense into him, only for Diana to hold out her arm. "You shouldn't get too close. He's...not himself."
"I can handle this." Wenona stated, with an air of confidence she didn't fully feel. She walked over to Jean's side, seeing for herself how unwell Ulysses was - eyes unfocused, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unusually pale even for him. Trembling, like he'd drank too much coffee. Seeing Ulysses like this...it shook her.
"He's seeing things that aren't there. Hearing whispering sounds...noises that nobody else can hear." Jean himself sounded disturbed. "How many hours did he sleep last night?"
"...I don't think he slept at all."
Wenona had gone to sleep with him writing at his desk, and he'd promised her he'd sleep in an hour. But she'd woken up with him still at that desk...still writing. Now that she thought more, he had spent the previous night up at odd hours, only returning to her room at six in the morning. The night before that, he'd been reading history books from the library, and he'd fallen asleep with his head on the book...and the night before that, he had barely slept....
Has this man ever slept a full eight hours in his entire life?
"Ulysses, I need the knife from you." Wenona spoke firmly. "And you need to come with me - I need you for something."
Ulysses squinted, like he's trying to make her out. "I don't..."
"Jean needs the knife for - for something." Her mind went blank for a second, yet she pressed on, masking her fear. "Anything you're seeing...it won't hurt you. Come with me, okay?"
He looked down, then up at her. Slowly, he walked closer to her, still holding the knife close, and Wenona was dimly reminded of what happened to Diana in the boiler room with Wolfgang. She had ran out of the dining hall after Wenona had neared Ulysses...no wonder Diana was so afraid.
"...You know what? Just keep the knife." Wenona instead reached out for his arm. "We're going to your room so you can sleep."
"I'm not tired," he whisperd, but mercifully he did not flinch away or protest when Wenona gently took him by the arm, slowly walking him out of the room. Ulysses stumbled, unsteady on his feet, so Wenona took great care not to walk too fast, closing their door behind them.
A part of her had thought he was immune to the more severe effects of sleep deprivation. In all their time in the killing game, he had been tired, slightly disorganised, but always mentally sharp. Not like now, where he doesn't quite know what's going on - where Wenona has to repeat her instructions three times over for him to lie in the bed and sleep - not paranoid, as he insists on keeping the knife with him as he sleeps, for protection against things she can't even see. Covering his ears to block out sounds that aren't real.
He fell asleep in a matter of minutes, but Wenona didn't think it's wise to leave his side. So she remained close to him, and when Jean quietly entered the room with a scared Diana half an hour later, they decided to bring meals down to Wenona until he wakes up. And he wakes up later than Wenona expected - Ulysses fell asleep around noon the day prior, yet it's 8am the next morning when he woke to the morning announcement with a jolt.
"W-Wenona...?" He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Where am I...how did I get-"
"You've been asleep for 20 hours." she said flatly, watching him as he turned to look at the clock, not believing her. "I think you should sleep longer."
"I was in the dining hall." Ulysses searched the bedsheets, pulling out the knife. "Diana was helping me make lunch-"
"And then you started seeing things that weren't there - hearing whispers, because you hadn't slept for three days."
Ulysses froze. "But...I needed to write my notes. If I do not write everything down-"
"It's a balance, Ulysses. You'll never finish your notes if you drive yourself insane first." she said, a little too angrily. When his face fell, Wenona attempted to show him a new perspective. "And you scared all of us. I don't know what you said to Jean and Diana, but they were terrified. I was terrified. What would have happened if you attacked someone in that state?"
"I wouldn't have." he insisted, although Wenona doubted his resolve. "...I admit, it has been a while since I've...slipped this far, but I would never attack someone. Not if they didn't harm me first."
"You're saying that like you have experience with...nevermind."
She can feel herself getting deeply frustrated at his inability to care for himself, for his blatant lack of regard for his condition. And deep down Wenona knows it's terror masquerading itself as wrath, but she'd rather yell at the top of her lungs than reveal any kind of panic. And anger's the last thing Ulysses needs right now, not when the anxious look in his eyes hasn't fully disappeared.
"...Jean's coming with breakfast in a few minutes. Eat all of it." Wenona tried to control her tone - to speak calmly, as to not unsettle him. "When you've eaten and rested, we'll talk about this again."