Lucas was like EXHAUSTED and his mind was conjuring up thoughts of lazing in an armchair by the fire with his blanket. Cough. Erm. "Common" blanket. Whatever.

He fumbled through the porthole (was it just him, or was he getting less flexible?), straightening without ease. Every single bone in his body was aching. He groaned pathetically and slumped into the nearest armchair.

Hmph.