Phoebe's Room at Blueberry Hill, Later Saturday Night
It was a very shaky Sam who, despite the fact that it still hurt to do so, carried Phoebe upstairs and got her comfortably -- as much as the circumstances would allow -- settled in bed well after the evening's earlier trauma.
Part of him wanted to yell at her, and demand what the frak she'd been thinking, going off on her own like that; the rest of him was too occupied with the fact that he'd nearly lost her again, and too damned tired to yell. So, all things considered, just holding her seemed like the best option.
Climbing into the bed beside her, he asked quietly, "I know this is probably a stupid question, but . . . are you okay?"
[OOC: For the room's actual occupant, of course.]
Part of him wanted to yell at her, and demand what the frak she'd been thinking, going off on her own like that; the rest of him was too occupied with the fact that he'd nearly lost her again, and too damned tired to yell. So, all things considered, just holding her seemed like the best option.
Climbing into the bed beside her, he asked quietly, "I know this is probably a stupid question, but . . . are you okay?"
[OOC: For the room's actual occupant, of course.]