By the time Gwen rolls around, Miguel seems to be mostly waiting for sleep to take him as he sits at the corner of the mattress, watching the remaining candle lights. The candles were all reduced to stumps of varying heights, wax melted in a spreading curtain of little dribbles caught in brass bases. He was hunched over, arms resting tiredly on his knees.

His relationship with rest had always been a troubled one, but he had a much easier time of hiding it from other Spiders when he was on his home turf. Out here, it was a bit more neutral ground, and he couldn't hide behind several levels of access doors and elevators that can be locked on a whim.

So, with a reaction thats a little more sluggish than his usual snap to the nearest object of attention, he finds Gwen there. He was too much of a workaholic to ignore a report.

"You're back."

One eye gets the sleep rubbed out of it, and he returns to the stiff-backed leader he always tried to project to the others. Though, still one sitting on his mattress.

"And he didn't give you too much trouble...? Any injuries?"

A quick look over seemed all right. No blood.