[She glances sharply a him, feeling that pang of guilt again.] You didn't have to do that. This place is secure enough.
[She pauses a moment before ansewring, taking a breath and silently assessing herself. She'd been so eager to get moving again she hadn't stopped to think about injuries. It doesn't even occur to her there's anything odd about her earlier behavior.] A little sore, slight headache. Nothing serious. Should probably eat something.
And I also wanted to talk to you about something. Specifically, the fact that you need to take better care of yourself. You went a week without sleeping when we talking before the simulation...
Kat, I meant that you're acting strange. You aren't usually that easily distracted...
I'm used to rough conditions, Washington. This is nothing new.
[She frowns at him, and hten glances down at her journal and sees the disjunct start to a journal entry and subsequent math and doodles. Softly, starting to worry herself a little.] I guess ... I was more effected by it than I thought.
My rough conditions almost always involved monsters killing people. [She glances back at him, keeping her expression blank, but wondering what he was acting concerned after he was so pissed off that she'd abandoned him earlier.]
[She gives her head a shake and sets the journal aside berfore running a hand through her hair.] I did just get knocked out, and I did just wake up. Maybe you're right, I should take it easy for now. [She's got a slight frown, though. The whole reason their Falcon even existed was becuase she couldn't take it easy.]
[She glares back at him, speaking sharply.] Wars aren't won when people take it easy. I've already spent too much time out of the loop, I can't afford another minute.
[She pushes off the bed and stalks over to the kitchen area. What she needed was an MRE and then back to the hangar. Caslte induced or not, she'd already wasted too much time here.]
Wars aren't won when fools jump in when they're still recovering from injuries and weakened either. You can afford the time. You can't afford to not take the time, especially if something might be wrong with you.
[Washington is following Kat, carefully watching her behavior.] Also, as a note? No MREs here. York doesn't care for the things. He stocks real food, even if it is nonperishable stuff.
[She huffs a sigh, pulling out a few cans of soup instead when she finds Washington's comment to be true, and starts banging around the cupboards for a pot big enough.]
I'm fine. Maybe just a little disoriented from the knockout, but I'll get over it.
I think I can manage heating up some condensed soup.
[She pulls out an extra can. At this point, she's carefully guarded. From their earlier conversation before the sim flight to the current worries, the last thing she wants is to appear vulnerable to him.] Something tells me you're not going anywhere.
[She doesn't reply for a moment, silently opening the cans and dumping them into the pot and adding the water. The instructions really weren't that hard to follow.]
You don't need to be doing this, you know. [It's not just the fact that really, she feels fine, certainly much better than any of the other scrapes she's been in, but also that lingering guilt; that while she'd felt the best course of action when Washington was an Elite was to close herself away, he waited by her bedside for days for her to recover.]
[Washington just watches for a few moments, trying to put together his thoughts properly.] I'm not doing it because I have to. Doing it because I choose to.
[She pushes the cans aside and turns the heat on under the soup, before turning to lean back against the counter and cross her arms, regarding him carefully.]
Why?
[He'd lit into her so hard when he'd gotten back to normal, and he'd rubbed it in when they'd met up again for the flight. Why was he suddenly being so nice?]
[Watching the behavior from Kat in the journal.] Are you sure you're feeling all right?
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[She pauses a moment before ansewring, taking a breath and silently assessing herself. She'd been so eager to get moving again she hadn't stopped to think about injuries. It doesn't even occur to her there's anything odd about her earlier behavior.] A little sore, slight headache. Nothing serious. Should probably eat something.
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Kat, I meant that you're acting strange. You aren't usually that easily distracted...
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[She frowns at him, and hten glances down at her journal and sees the disjunct start to a journal entry and subsequent math and doodles. Softly, starting to worry herself a little.] I guess ... I was more effected by it than I thought.
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[Washington sighs.] If you didn't realize you were doing it? It may be a loss of some kind... But it's like your attention span has gone to hell.
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[She gives her head a shake and sets the journal aside berfore running a hand through her hair.] I did just get knocked out, and I did just wake up. Maybe you're right, I should take it easy for now. [She's got a slight frown, though. The whole reason their Falcon even existed was becuase she couldn't take it easy.]
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[Washington just glares at Kat at that.] Yes. You should take it easy. You were out too long for it to be just the crashed simulation vehicle.
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[She pushes off the bed and stalks over to the kitchen area. What she needed was an MRE and then back to the hangar. Caslte induced or not, she'd already wasted too much time here.]
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[Washington is following Kat, carefully watching her behavior.] Also, as a note? No MREs here. York doesn't care for the things. He stocks real food, even if it is nonperishable stuff.
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I'm fine. Maybe just a little disoriented from the knockout, but I'll get over it.
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[He's not leaving.]
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[She pulls out an extra can. At this point, she's carefully guarded. From their earlier conversation before the sim flight to the current worries, the last thing she wants is to appear vulnerable to him.] Something tells me you're not going anywhere.
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I'm keeping an eye on you until I know you're at one hundred percent.
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You don't need to be doing this, you know. [It's not just the fact that really, she feels fine, certainly much better than any of the other scrapes she's been in, but also that lingering guilt; that while she'd felt the best course of action when Washington was an Elite was to close herself away, he waited by her bedside for days for her to recover.]
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Why?
[He'd lit into her so hard when he'd gotten back to normal, and he'd rubbed it in when they'd met up again for the flight. Why was he suddenly being so nice?]
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