She'd scarcely moved in a day and a half. Even when the medicos came in, she remained as still as a corpse. So much so, in fact, that one of them actually took vitals just to ensure her heart was still beating. The drugs they had snowed her with were potent, and did their wicked work far too well; Blue, Blue, was finally complacent and submissive.

If completely without any spark of life.

The storm rolled overhead, and while Blue had always enjoyed the sound of thunder and lash of rain, she seemed unaware of the broiling tropical depression, her head turned away from the cell door and eyes gazing unseeing and unfocused at the wall, lids only half-open. The tranquilizers had slowed her breathing, sapped all of her energy so that her chest only rose and fell slightly, the breaths she did take sparse and shallow.

When Hoskins entered her cell again, alone, there was no response from the creature prone on the cot.