156: theatrical_muse 271
Talk about a time that you were sick.
"How are you feeling?" Victor asked Stark, setting a fresh mug of coffee down in front of her when she finally wandered into the kitchen of their rented beach house.
She smiled grimly and took it gratefully, sighing a little. "Alive," she said. Some of the color was still missing from her face, and she didn't really care what she looked like, as evidenced by the worn jeans and faded Earth, Wind and Fire T-shirt. Not to mention the distinct lack of sparkle in her eyes.
Her partner just let out a slow breath and looked over at her. This was the lowest he'd ever seen her, and he wasn't going to push. She would get better when she could. "Let me rephrase," he said, "how are you feeling physically?"
"Eh." She made a face slightly. "The headache's better, but my stomach still feels a little weak. I'm still not sleeping that great."
"I wouldn't expect you to." He nodded a little. "It's nerves, Stark. When you calm down emotionally, your body will straighten itself out."
"That might be awhile," she admitted with a soft, shaky laugh. "I just keep replaying everything over in my head. You know? I keep thinking if I go over it enough times I will know what I did wrong, and I can fix it."
Vic came around the counter and settled on the barstool beside her, looking over at her and giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You didn't do anything wrong, Stark," he said honestly. "You did the best you could. Sometimes things end badly, through no fault of our own. That's just the nature of the job."
She met his eyes. "Then why do I feel sick over it?"
"That's called being human."
Muse: Stark Patrick
Fandom: The X-Files (OC)
Words: 291
"How are you feeling?" Victor asked Stark, setting a fresh mug of coffee down in front of her when she finally wandered into the kitchen of their rented beach house.
She smiled grimly and took it gratefully, sighing a little. "Alive," she said. Some of the color was still missing from her face, and she didn't really care what she looked like, as evidenced by the worn jeans and faded Earth, Wind and Fire T-shirt. Not to mention the distinct lack of sparkle in her eyes.
Her partner just let out a slow breath and looked over at her. This was the lowest he'd ever seen her, and he wasn't going to push. She would get better when she could. "Let me rephrase," he said, "how are you feeling physically?"
"Eh." She made a face slightly. "The headache's better, but my stomach still feels a little weak. I'm still not sleeping that great."
"I wouldn't expect you to." He nodded a little. "It's nerves, Stark. When you calm down emotionally, your body will straighten itself out."
"That might be awhile," she admitted with a soft, shaky laugh. "I just keep replaying everything over in my head. You know? I keep thinking if I go over it enough times I will know what I did wrong, and I can fix it."
Vic came around the counter and settled on the barstool beside her, looking over at her and giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You didn't do anything wrong, Stark," he said honestly. "You did the best you could. Sometimes things end badly, through no fault of our own. That's just the nature of the job."
She met his eyes. "Then why do I feel sick over it?"
"That's called being human."
Muse: Stark Patrick
Fandom: The X-Files (OC)
Words: 291