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Beau rolled his eyes at Eddie's rejoinder, ready to bite back that it was in fact the best kind of logic, duh, but wisely held his tongue when he saw his own stalwart frustration mirrored on the other man's face. It was a common turn of phrase to refer to unstoppable forces meeting immovable objects, but when two immovable objects were pitted against each other, they got nowhere fast.
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He instead busied himself smoothing down his clean clothes and giving an experimental stretch to soothe his aching back. At Eddie's suggestion, he turned to regard the older man, only moderately nonplussed to find him already on the cot, and - yes - with just enough room left, apparently.
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He eyed the cot dubiously; while he wouldn't mind not being able to stretch out, because he had a feeling he'd sleep like a rock if he managed to get any sleep at all, it didn't allow Eddie much room for any comfort, either. Still, the determined set of Eddie's jaw told him he'd be right back to talking the other man in circles if he refused, so he capitulated with a sigh. "Fine, brah, but if you get t'hurtin', you gotta tell me. I figure it's not gonna get any better in this place, feel me?"
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A lingering sense of concern for the other man and that telltale frisson of anxiety about their overall situation that he still couldn't shake had him ready to do anything but fall asleep. Despite it, though, if only to forestall more of Eddie's protests, he settled in next to his cotmate for the night.
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---

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Beau jolted awake, snapping his head around and blinking blearily as he took in his surroundings. He'd fallen asleep at his table, and the cafe was empty. No - he hadn't been in a cafe, he'd been in a doggone cell, and there was no Eddie or anyone else, for that matter, to be seen. He had to be dreaming, but he never dreamed this vividly.
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He stood and made his way outside the small cafe cautiously. The city was unfamiliar, the bright neon of the surroundings almost garish in comparison to what he was used to. Soft, hushed voices reached his ears, and he reacted immediately, launching into a jog down the block toward the source of the sound.
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Coming upon the alleyway, the wind immediately left his sails as he found the small passage completely empty. Sighing, he turned his attention to the structures surrounding him and immediately froze. Torben, his Pangoro, floated in a glass display nearby, unmoving and suspended within the strange liquid.
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The familiar lance of fear shot down his spine as here, even in his dream, he'd failed his companions.
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Tearing toward the display, he beat his fists against the glass, a series of hollow thunks echoing from the impact, magnified weirdly by the solution in which the bear floated. His breath coming rapidly, panic seizing him, Beau looked around frantically. No - there was his Gallade, and across from that his Runerigus, and even-
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He stared at Orson, the diminutive Kubfu he'd tried so hard to save from a fate as grim as this, suspended in the smallest case of them all. With an incoherent sob, he beat against the glass, drawing his arm back and punching, hammering, kicking at the enclosure as the strength left him, his blows growing weaker, until he could only lift his arm to place a hand against the glass, next to the unmoving cub's head.
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"I'll bring you home," he whispered hoarsely, the nameless fear tightening his throat. "I'll bring you all home."

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