[ Severus reads them, some of them delayed-- if she has a moment to look it's staggered, how they go from Delivered to Read. He's doing it in between calling other people; he has to get to Colbert and to Charles and the other psychics, to those he left locked in closets, time-sensitive issues that have to take priority over what he might want.
[ His voice comes crawling out of her pocket, and it's the first time that she's really used her comm since she decided enough was enough and very few messages were likely to go through or come her way given the condition of the ship. She's still in medbay now, helping clean up after checking the dogs. ]
I suppose. He's confined to his room now and nearly catatonic.
[ Severus sounds neither worried nor sympathetic. He's out of fucks to give about William; the fact that he went and did it should buy him that dispassion without question, he feels. ]
[ Claire, on the other hand, can't decide if she's more sympathetic or angry, the result of which is a frustrated silence. After a moment, she exhales, when she says anything else, her voice is exasperated. ]
What even happened? Actually, no, I don't want to know right now. I don't even think I have the brain power left to process anything that isn't caveman speech.
[ To take a shower? her mind completes, and it is probably at that point she recognizes that she might be going slightly insane. ]
Take a nap, Severus. [ Take several of them, probably. ] After figuring out the shower, I mean. Honestly, the ship is probably going to be totally silent for the next thirty-six hours, everyone's worn themselves down so much.
[ And then, she's sure, the weight of what happened and what people did will start to press down. ]
[ There's a hundred things-- how is she, what happened, what the hell is that angel's post about, but he's so exhausted he's starting to feel dizzy. If he weren't covered in gore he'd be asleep already. ]
[ The suggestion to crash in her room following said shower lives and dies in the back of her brain for two very distinct reasons, one of them being dogs, the other being more plainly obvious and volatile. ]
[ He thinks about just coding her nanites into the door, but even as tired as he is, Severus doesn't want to end up startled out of sleep and into a defensive action. War nerves, fun for everyone. ]
[ That's a suggestion everyone involved in the conversation is glad never gets made. ]
Okay. I'll message you before I come up. Happy showering.
[ Is the note she ends on before retreating back into the dying down noise of medbay and beyond. Three hours later sees the gardens checked and the dogs locked away with some amount of guilt. When she pings him prior to her arrival and subsequent knock, the promise it indicates might be the most foreboding yet. ]
[ Three hours was not enough to sleep and be functional; Severus feels worse than he did when he went to sleep when he struggles back to consciousness. His hair is still damp and his head feels like someone's taken an ice pick to the center of it. As such, it takes him a minute to get up and open the door. ]
Hi. [ Severus looks terrible. He is aware that his eye looks eerily bloodshot again like it had when he was recovering from the mural attack, but he's forgotten in his sleep deprived state. ]
[ Claire is immediately sorry that she woke him at all, and her face shows every inch of it. ]
Oh god.
[ She had been expecting some bleary-eyed response - if anything; honestly, it was a fifty-fifty chance that he would even answer in the first place - but he actually does really look like hell. Most of them do, to some degree, but not really enough to warrant a verbal approximation of the fact, unlike this encounter. Probably it's not the politest thing to say to hi but she is beyond the point of being able to reel it in. Pretty soon she's going to start showing all her stars and stripes via accent. ]
What happened? [ She indicates his eye by stepping into the room and trying to get a better look and then belatedly feels the need to clarify. ] Your eye's all red.
[ Making progress toward better people manners and less caveman manners with every step. ]
It's fine. [ Severus can deal with feeling like shit to see her, though he might fall back asleep here in a few minutes. ] Exertion out in the hallways must have just irritated it.
[ An injury made by the ship triggered to reappear by further meddling from the ship - it makes sense to him. Also: ] It doesn't hurt.
[ The pain is in his head is courtesy of Nuala and Rogue, he's pretty sure. ]
Okay. [ She says, as if problems like this arise all the time and bring their logical conclusions with them. The reality of it is that she doesn't have the luxury of time to coordinate a discussion about it, given the overall fucking terrible state of him. ] That makes sense.
[ She feels bad, in some way, given the beating that he's taking the past couple of jump cycles. She's taken a beating herself but doesn't bear the same brunt to show for it. Wordlessly, she catches his jaw and part of his neck in her palm in order to kiss him. ]
I'm glad you're not dead.
[ It's an inelegant way of expressing anything, but there it is. The damp of his hair drags across the bend of her knuckles and she pulls back, moving to sit. ]
[ Claire draws her legs up to unlace and then remove each boot individually. The first drops with a well-placed thud, perfect for punctuation. ]
Yeah. That was one way of shaking them out of it. [ Her boot tries to decide whether or not it's going to remain upright or topple over. It chooses the latter. Claire starts on the next, barely thinking about Erik or Odessa; trying not to, at least. She doesn't say anything until the other boot has been worked off of her foot and is poised to disappear to the floor. ] Eventually the telepaths - or, angels? I don't know - managed to figure out how to break through without, you know... needing to kill anyone.
[ Once her shoes are removed, she leans back against the wall, covering a yawn with her fingers and drawing up her knees until her heels are flush with the mattress. ]
[ He knows she's not physically injured. That's not what he's asking. He watches her de-shoe, and wonders if she ever properly connected with Colbert. Probably. He only saw their exchange after he'd already left the SEC offices; his mind wanders in fleeting steps, too tired to focus. How many times did she die, to facilitate investigations? ]
[ It's strange, to be bothered and yet not bothered by the things that happened, to have a working understanding of her role and place as a tool and to find value in that despite being consistently paranoid that someone will discover what she is and use it for that very same purpose. Cat's out of the bag now, though, she supposes, and her apathy regarding the whole situation is possibly palpable. Of course she's all right. It seems unjustified to be anything other than all right when she's volunteered her ability now and in the past. Claire recognizes that it's a messed up way of thinking, but there are people out there who aren't alright, in a hundred ways that she will never relate to.
Eventually, she looks sideways at him, feeling like she might go cross-eyed from exhaustion. One look at him, his eye, remembering the smell of burnt clothing and skin, just reaffirms how she feels. ]
I know I should probably say that I'm not okay. I died twice, technically. But I don't feel anything about it one way or another. I should've died a million other times before I even got here. I've always been fine. [ She kicks her leg out to nudge him with her foot. ] It's not something we have to talk about right now, at any rate. I can tell you're exhausted.
[ In most cases he'd be perfectly happy to accept that, because it'd mean getting out of having to talk about feelings, or sensitive subjects, and he's not good at it. Instead he feels like he's missing something. Severus is quiet for a moment, listening. ]
If you decide you don't want to be fine, you're allowed.
[ With him, he means. Just putting it out there.
Severus reaches over to brush knuckles against her cheek. ] Tired too?
[ It's not a dismissal or some kind of platitude designed to displace. Like him, she would rather not talk about something than talk about it any day of the week, in most circumstances. She doesn't feel like she's withholding anything, but at the same time she's thankful that he doesn't press her, right now. Despite being tired, she'll probably lay awake for an hour trying to piece together how she wants to say everything. She'd like to tell someone. She'd like to tell him. Being comfortable enough to share is still very new.
He'll be able to see the small quirk at the corner of her mouth as much as he should be able to feel it against his fingers. ]
I think I might die. [ Is a terrible joke. Claire moves to unwind her arms and legs and scoot over toward him. ] I want to hear about the halls and stuff later.
Hm. [ Terrible joke indeed. Severus presses a soft kiss against her jaw when she's inched closer, then shifts to be able to lay down. ] If you want-- [ absent point at his dresser. Extra pajamas. He will probably be unconscious before she's vertical anyway, if she's worried about him spying on her changing if she decides to. ]
[ Her voice is soft and casual, comfortable. She stays propped up with one hand jammed into the comforter for a moment, elbow locked, and waits until he's laid down before swinging herself over his legs and out of the warm circle of the bed. Her jumpsuit being done for, all she has left are the few pairs of jeans she's managed to scrounge up. Anything is more comfortable to sleep in than jeans, even if she does drown in the material.
Severus's breathing has leveled out by the time she emerges from changing, still in her own t-shirt but now without denim, and she only disturbs it to climb in after him and big spoon the hell out of him. True to form, she lies there for what feels like hours, trying to persuade her brain to shut down while forcing it to continue running until the end result is being unable to determine whether or not the conversation she's preparing is something that has actually taken place or not.
Sleep drops on her unannounced, when it finally does. ]
[ Severus wakes up in fewer hours than he should be getting, but it's long enough to get by on. His head still hurts, but he gets up and vanishes for a bit to the bathrooms (gratified by not throwing up) and check his messages; he considers Apparating to medbay to check in with Lily, but the splitting pain in his head warns him against trying. So he slides back into his room after having been extremely cross with Lupin via text message.
Is Claire awake? If so, hi, if not, he's sitting back down carefully. It's a testament to how out of it he still is that he left his quarters without fully changing into proper clothes-- even if his pjs are still 100% conservative. ]
[ Awake enough that once the spot he was occupying becomes available, Claire slides into it and stretches her legs and arms, one of the latter under a pillow, until she has taken up more space than should be possible for anyone. He's gone long enough that she's able to float miserably between awake and asleep and ruminate on what a terrible dog owner she is before rolling over when she hears the door open. ]
Hi. [ Her voice is still thick with sleep. She makes no move to extricate herself from blankets. ] Everything good?
As it can be. [ Hopefully his head will just settle back to how it should feel, soon. Severus approaches and nudges slightly before sitting back on his bed, choosing to steal half of a blanket back instead of getting up to face reality. It occurs to him how very cramped these single bunks are, and has fleeting thoughts of extension charms to accommodate fixing issues like that. He'd have to really work on the spell, though. And on not sounding weird suggesting it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
audio.
But without fail-- ]
I'm fine.
audio.
Hey, good. Everything go okay?
[ With William, primarily. ]
audio.
[ Severus sounds neither worried nor sympathetic. He's out of fucks to give about William; the fact that he went and did it should buy him that dispassion without question, he feels. ]
audio.
What even happened? Actually, no, I don't want to know right now. I don't even think I have the brain power left to process anything that isn't caveman speech.
audio.
[ long I was gone? No, he already established it was two days. In time that matters, anyway. Nevermind. ]
I'm just tired.
audio.
[ To take a shower? her mind completes, and it is probably at that point she recognizes that she might be going slightly insane. ]
Take a nap, Severus. [ Take several of them, probably. ] After figuring out the shower, I mean. Honestly, the ship is probably going to be totally silent for the next thirty-six hours, everyone's worn themselves down so much.
[ And then, she's sure, the weight of what happened and what people did will start to press down. ]
audio.
[ There's a hundred things-- how is she, what happened, what the hell is that angel's post about, but he's so exhausted he's starting to feel dizzy. If he weren't covered in gore he'd be asleep already. ]
audio.
I'm gonna come up, a little later. Okay?
audio.
[ He thinks about just coding her nanites into the door, but even as tired as he is, Severus doesn't want to end up startled out of sleep and into a defensive action. War nerves, fun for everyone. ]
no subject
Okay. I'll message you before I come up. Happy showering.
[ Is the note she ends on before retreating back into the dying down noise of medbay and beyond. Three hours later sees the gardens checked and the dogs locked away with some amount of guilt. When she pings him prior to her arrival and subsequent knock, the promise it indicates might be the most foreboding yet. ]
next time I'm bringing the dogs
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Hi. [ Severus looks terrible. He is aware that his eye looks eerily bloodshot again like it had when he was recovering from the mural attack, but he's forgotten in his sleep deprived state. ]
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Oh god.
[ She had been expecting some bleary-eyed response - if anything; honestly, it was a fifty-fifty chance that he would even answer in the first place - but he actually does really look like hell. Most of them do, to some degree, but not really enough to warrant a verbal approximation of the fact, unlike this encounter. Probably it's not the politest thing to say to hi but she is beyond the point of being able to reel it in. Pretty soon she's going to start showing all her stars and stripes via accent. ]
What happened? [ She indicates his eye by stepping into the room and trying to get a better look and then belatedly feels the need to clarify. ] Your eye's all red.
[ Making progress toward better people manners and less caveman manners with every step. ]
no subject
[ An injury made by the ship triggered to reappear by further meddling from the ship - it makes sense to him. Also: ] It doesn't hurt.
[ The pain is in his head is courtesy of Nuala and Rogue, he's pretty sure. ]
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Okay. [ She says, as if problems like this arise all the time and bring their logical conclusions with them. The reality of it is that she doesn't have the luxury of time to coordinate a discussion about it, given the overall fucking terrible state of him. ] That makes sense.
[ She feels bad, in some way, given the beating that he's taking the past couple of jump cycles. She's taken a beating herself but doesn't bear the same brunt to show for it. Wordlessly, she catches his jaw and part of his neck in her palm in order to kiss him. ]
I'm glad you're not dead.
[ It's an inelegant way of expressing anything, but there it is. The damp of his hair drags across the bend of her knuckles and she pulls back, moving to sit. ]
no subject
I heard people could wake up if they killed someone.
[ --a little more blunt than he'd like, but maybe it's for the best. ]
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Yeah. That was one way of shaking them out of it. [ Her boot tries to decide whether or not it's going to remain upright or topple over. It chooses the latter. Claire starts on the next, barely thinking about Erik or Odessa; trying not to, at least. She doesn't say anything until the other boot has been worked off of her foot and is poised to disappear to the floor. ] Eventually the telepaths - or, angels? I don't know - managed to figure out how to break through without, you know... needing to kill anyone.
[ Once her shoes are removed, she leans back against the wall, covering a yawn with her fingers and drawing up her knees until her heels are flush with the mattress. ]
no subject
[ He knows she's not physically injured. That's not what he's asking. He watches her de-shoe, and wonders if she ever properly connected with Colbert. Probably. He only saw their exchange after he'd already left the SEC offices; his mind wanders in fleeting steps, too tired to focus. How many times did she die, to facilitate investigations? ]
no subject
[ It's strange, to be bothered and yet not bothered by the things that happened, to have a working understanding of her role and place as a tool and to find value in that despite being consistently paranoid that someone will discover what she is and use it for that very same purpose. Cat's out of the bag now, though, she supposes, and her apathy regarding the whole situation is possibly palpable. Of course she's all right. It seems unjustified to be anything other than all right when she's volunteered her ability now and in the past. Claire recognizes that it's a messed up way of thinking, but there are people out there who aren't alright, in a hundred ways that she will never relate to.
Eventually, she looks sideways at him, feeling like she might go cross-eyed from exhaustion. One look at him, his eye, remembering the smell of burnt clothing and skin, just reaffirms how she feels. ]
I know I should probably say that I'm not okay. I died twice, technically. But I don't feel anything about it one way or another. I should've died a million other times before I even got here. I've always been fine. [ She kicks her leg out to nudge him with her foot. ] It's not something we have to talk about right now, at any rate. I can tell you're exhausted.
no subject
If you decide you don't want to be fine, you're allowed.
[ With him, he means. Just putting it out there.
Severus reaches over to brush knuckles against her cheek. ] Tired too?
no subject
[ It's not a dismissal or some kind of platitude designed to displace. Like him, she would rather not talk about something than talk about it any day of the week, in most circumstances. She doesn't feel like she's withholding anything, but at the same time she's thankful that he doesn't press her, right now. Despite being tired, she'll probably lay awake for an hour trying to piece together how she wants to say everything. She'd like to tell someone. She'd like to tell him. Being comfortable enough to share is still very new.
He'll be able to see the small quirk at the corner of her mouth as much as he should be able to feel it against his fingers. ]
I think I might die. [ Is a terrible joke. Claire moves to unwind her arms and legs and scoot over toward him. ] I want to hear about the halls and stuff later.
[ Fair trades are fair. ]
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I know. We'll talk.
no subject
[ Her voice is soft and casual, comfortable. She stays propped up with one hand jammed into the comforter for a moment, elbow locked, and waits until he's laid down before swinging herself over his legs and out of the warm circle of the bed. Her jumpsuit being done for, all she has left are the few pairs of jeans she's managed to scrounge up. Anything is more comfortable to sleep in than jeans, even if she does drown in the material.
Severus's breathing has leveled out by the time she emerges from changing, still in her own t-shirt but now without denim, and she only disturbs it to climb in after him and big spoon the hell out of him. True to form, she lies there for what feels like hours, trying to persuade her brain to shut down while forcing it to continue running until the end result is being unable to determine whether or not the conversation she's preparing is something that has actually taken place or not.
Sleep drops on her unannounced, when it finally does. ]
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Is Claire awake? If so, hi, if not, he's sitting back down carefully. It's a testament to how out of it he still is that he left his quarters without fully changing into proper clothes-- even if his pjs are still 100% conservative. ]
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Hi. [ Her voice is still thick with sleep. She makes no move to extricate herself from blankets. ] Everything good?
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How're you?
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