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. ]
[ For her part, Claire rolls over all the way and scoots herself back until she's practically flush with the wall. It feels cool through blanket and shirt but not unpleasantly so. While he situates, she rummages through the hills and valleys of the comforter for her communicator, leaving one eye screwed shut to check the time and determine that she is not going to pet owner hell just yet. She keeps her eye closed under the misguided assumption that leaving one closed will make getting back to sleep after closing the other that much easier. ]
Sleepy. Awake. For now. [ That other green eye opens, and his half of a blanket increases in size as she throws some more toward him. ] You aren't dreaming right now, are you?
I might like to be, [ he says, the blanket half over his head, ] because someone is forcing 'space Christmas' [ resentful airquotes audible ] into existence.
[ Severus can't complain about Lupin's incredibly irresponsible bullshit behavior without outing his condition, but there are enough other idiots to fill the void. He still sounds tired. ] I need to check on a few people, but I'm not awake enough to be of any use yet.
[ For about thirty seconds, Claire wonders if she's the one who is actually dreaming. ]
I saw, before - is now really the best time for that? [ That question is mostly hypothetical, though if she was still asleep before, it's taken a backseat to incredulity for the moment. As for the more legitimate and pressing of the two presented issues - ] I doubt any of the people you need to check on are awake enough to be of any use yet, too, in your defense. You could and should probably get away with a few more hours.
I have no bloody idea what's wrong with any of them. [ There's no real heat in his voice, just because he's tired. Severus lets his eyes fall closed, not really wanting to sleep again but still feeling like he's been hit by a truck. It's frustrating that what ends up stringing him out is the thing he puts the most effort in. ] The inability to carry on without being the center of attention, maybe.
[ Even if he wasn't predisposed to hate anything with the tag 'It's Sirius's fault', he still finds the whole affair to be in terrible taste. This coming from a former Death Eater should say something. ]
[ Claire opens her mouth to say something in return, decides that it's not worth the effort it would take to agree one way or the other, and just drags the top of the blanket over her head. The toes of her socks poke out from the other end. People were hurt. People did terrible things. You don't just get to string a bunch of lights together and make it all go away. ]
Maybe it's a coping mechanism.
[ From beneath the blanket, muffled. Her voice is flat. It's plain she's not buying that as an excuse to sweep everything under the rug in an effort not to deal with it. Although maybe there's some degree of hypocrisy in that. Maybe she'd like to stay under here forever. ]
Hm. [ What a terrible coping mechanism all of you get jobs you losers etc etc Severus is dick, news at 11. He's developed-- not really a grudge against Sally, but an awareness of her as someone completely disingenuous and selfish. He met her in the locker room months ago, his face bleeding, and she expressed all kinds of sentiments, and then went out and befriended the person who did it. So it's a little funny watching her butt heads with Edgeworth - two sides of a lying coin flipperhandsing at each other like shrew-voiced morons.
Anyway.
He wraps his arms around Claire and pulls her closer, the blanket blocking out what dim light exists in the small cabin. Screw consciousness. ]
I don't know what'll happen to William, [ he murmurs after a while. ] Heather was down there, too, looking for him. It tried to frighten us with what it perceived as nightmares, I think. The ship.
[ Her kneejerk reaction now is to fish her comm out from under the pillow where it has ended up and power up the network to distribute passive aggressive and bratty comments to anyone who thinks setting up a Christmas party in the wake of what has happened is a good idea, but it seems like more trouble than it's worth. In some ways, Claire feels like she's growing as a person, in that respect. In other ways, she feels like the rewards for being more detached regarding situations like that vastly outweigh the satisfaction derived from saying anything at all; namely, less time spent wallowing in frustration and more spent in a dark cocoon that smells vaguely like shampoo.
A little of the pale light from the room creeps in via the gap between blanket and pillow letting cool air in, and Claire uses that as a guide to trace her eye and then her thumb across the thin skin showing dark blood vessels underneath the red bloom of his sclera. At the mention of William and what follows, she pulls back a bit. ]
Probably stay in isolation for a while, just for starters. It wasn't anything he did on purpose, right? [ Her tone doesn't show any anger, maybe some tired resignation, but even if he didn't mean to hurt anyone, he did, in a sense. It's something that needs to be considered. ] What did you see down there?
Not on purpose, no. [ Severus is mostly angry that William handled it the way he did - running off and making it worse instead of immediately seeking help. It was a massive error in judgement and the severity of the consequences can't just be written off as accidental. ] Bits of things from home, some unpleasant landscapes that were familiar to Heather. No murals, minimal odd noises. It was most like the labyrinth of memory recreations after Shepard's last reconnaissance.
[ She shudders, primarily for effect, and pulls her hand back to join the other under the pillow. The atmosphere they had all been submerged in following that particular recon mission is something she's happier not reliving. ]
He shouldn't have run. [ Whether to avoid facing responsibility or any other thing he might have seen as a logical conclusion, if he was even in control of himself. Claire assumes yes, as that isn't what Severus had led with. ] Getting lured out there under any sort of pretense is bad news. You already looked pretty beat up before you went down there, when I saw you in medbay.
[ She can assume Rey without too much extrapolation. Anything else is a murky unknown. ]
Cosmetic. [ It's not a bluff - his injuries were superficial for the most part, adding up to be an annoyance but nothing traumatic. It's his head that's the real issue, but he's not going to talk about that just yet. Not only does he not want to worry her, he's not sure what he'd even say about it. There's no use stacking up 'I don't know's, especially now. ] I had a couple run-ins but most of the mess was dodging spell blowback. Very little actually hit me. And I didn't run into Black at all, so no one was taking any cheap shots.
[ Under the blankets is beginning to feel a little like an oven, so she tosses them back and props her head up on her hand, leaning on her elbow. At the mention of Sirius, her eyebrows jump. ]
Wow, stop the presses. [ She's only half-sarcastic, given the last time something insane happened. Claire scratches her forehead then digs thumb and middle finger into the hollows of her eyes, rubbing. ] It's a good thing you were able to find William before things went further than cosmetic. I don't know how much longer it could have continued like that, even with people figuring out how to shake people out of it.
I think it would have probably gotten all of us, eventually. Or William would have shot himself in the head.
[ Severus sounds more blank than he should relating that tidbit, but that's what William was contemplating when he contacted him and Heather. He's aware of how narrow of a miss it was. ]
It's done. I'm more interested in the changes in what went on in the hallways, to be honest.
[ Claire makes a noise of a agreement. Having been down there a small handful of times, she sort of feels like she has a personal investment even if she's aware that she's unlikely to ever understand it. ]
I feel like every time we go down there for one reason or another, something is different. [ Her top front teeth worry her bottom lip. Not being there has her at a disadvantage. ] Any theories?
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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. ]
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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. ]
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[ 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? ]
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[ 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.
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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?
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[ 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.
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[ 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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Sleepy. Awake. For now. [ That other green eye opens, and his half of a blanket increases in size as she throws some more toward him. ] You aren't dreaming right now, are you?
[ She's mostly not serious. ]
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[ Severus can't complain about Lupin's incredibly irresponsible bullshit behavior without outing his condition, but there are enough other idiots to fill the void. He still sounds tired. ] I need to check on a few people, but I'm not awake enough to be of any use yet.
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I saw, before - is now really the best time for that? [ That question is mostly hypothetical, though if she was still asleep before, it's taken a backseat to incredulity for the moment. As for the more legitimate and pressing of the two presented issues - ] I doubt any of the people you need to check on are awake enough to be of any use yet, too, in your defense. You could and should probably get away with a few more hours.
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[ Even if he wasn't predisposed to hate anything with the tag 'It's Sirius's fault', he still finds the whole affair to be in terrible taste. This coming from a former Death Eater should say something. ]
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Maybe it's a coping mechanism.
[ From beneath the blanket, muffled. Her voice is flat. It's plain she's not buying that as an excuse to sweep everything under the rug in an effort not to deal with it. Although maybe there's some degree of hypocrisy in that. Maybe she'd like to stay under here forever. ]
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Anyway.
He wraps his arms around Claire and pulls her closer, the blanket blocking out what dim light exists in the small cabin. Screw consciousness. ]
I don't know what'll happen to William, [ he murmurs after a while. ] Heather was down there, too, looking for him. It tried to frighten us with what it perceived as nightmares, I think. The ship.
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A little of the pale light from the room creeps in via the gap between blanket and pillow letting cool air in, and Claire uses that as a guide to trace her eye and then her thumb across the thin skin showing dark blood vessels underneath the red bloom of his sclera. At the mention of William and what follows, she pulls back a bit. ]
Probably stay in isolation for a while, just for starters. It wasn't anything he did on purpose, right? [ Her tone doesn't show any anger, maybe some tired resignation, but even if he didn't mean to hurt anyone, he did, in a sense. It's something that needs to be considered. ] What did you see down there?
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He shouldn't have run. [ Whether to avoid facing responsibility or any other thing he might have seen as a logical conclusion, if he was even in control of himself. Claire assumes yes, as that isn't what Severus had led with. ] Getting lured out there under any sort of pretense is bad news. You already looked pretty beat up before you went down there, when I saw you in medbay.
[ She can assume Rey without too much extrapolation. Anything else is a murky unknown. ]
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Wow, stop the presses. [ She's only half-sarcastic, given the last time something insane happened. Claire scratches her forehead then digs thumb and middle finger into the hollows of her eyes, rubbing. ] It's a good thing you were able to find William before things went further than cosmetic. I don't know how much longer it could have continued like that, even with people figuring out how to shake people out of it.
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[ Severus sounds more blank than he should relating that tidbit, but that's what William was contemplating when he contacted him and Heather. He's aware of how narrow of a miss it was. ]
It's done. I'm more interested in the changes in what went on in the hallways, to be honest.
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I feel like every time we go down there for one reason or another, something is different. [ Her top front teeth worry her bottom lip. Not being there has her at a disadvantage. ] Any theories?
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