(no subject)
For the first portion of the evening of this log, look at roatelgari -- posting the log here would be redundant. But for what happened after Roa left Penny and spoke to Jensen... read on. But brace yourselves. Its angsty. There's crying and a trip to the infirmary. I've no idea why so many people have requested this log... but posting it is easier than mailing it out. ;) Enjoy! My one disclaimer? Hormones.
Classroom
One of several classrooms used by the Weyr, this is the largest and most versatile. The walls adjacent to the bowl are lined with sandtables and high shelves that neatly store a variety of writing implements. Rather than the typical arrangement of student desks and benches lined up to face the front of the room, that furniture has been arranged in a broad semi-circle surrounding a bare work area. A single desk occupies the corner nearest the door exiting into the records room, providing a place for the current instructor to store their materials.
Caucus Office (CO) Records Room (RR) Bowl (B)
Ginella has arrived.
It's very, very late, long past the time when most students are asleep. The door to the classroom stands ajar, the pale light from a single glow emerging, and Roa's just recently left, dashing down the hallway. The sounds from the room are faint, merely the arhythmic, infrequent gasps of someone trying not to cry audibly; Penny is, of course, attempting to be done with her tears as soon as possible. Perhaps somewhat ridiculously, she clutches a partially peeled orange in one hand while the other is curled against her belly to hold it against the silent crying.
Why is Ginella here? It's a good question. She looks as though she's been asleep until just a few moments ago, still rubbing at her eyes as she ambles blindly into the classroom. The sound of crying pulls her up short, and she blinks at Penny a few times before finally exclaiming: "Penny!" She's surprised, certainly.
"Gah!" The exclamation is right on the heels of Ginella's utterance as Penny lifts her head with a strangled sniff. Both hands come to rub at her face -- splotchy and drained and pale all at once, this is crying unlike that displayed in their last big conversation. Quick and painful and meant not to be observed. She groans. "What are you -doing- here?"
/Blotchy/?! Not Penny. That's not possible. Ginella still looks shocked, and continues looking surprised at the smith's reaction. "I, umm... I forgot my books here earlier..." She explains, gesturing with a limp wrist towards a corner of the room. "Sorry. Didn't know you were here."
"I'm not!" ...not here? Sorry, Penny, there appears to be evidence to the contrary that supports the theory that you are, in fact, present at the current moment, and sitting behind what is usually the instructor's desk holding an orane and crying. She withdraws a little, setting down the fruit and lowering her face into her hands like a child who believes that if she can't see anybody, nobody can see her. "Doesn't anybody ever just go to sleep around here?" Her voice is rather hoarse.
Ginella just sort of blinks at Penny. "You're not?" She must be pretty tired, because she actually looks confused by this for a minute. She rubs at her face and gives herself a little shake, eyeing the orange, and then running a hand through her hair. "I was asleep?" she offers in response to the sulky question, "I fell asleep in the records room. Just got woke up." She takes a breath and then leans against a desk. "You want I should leave, then, really?"
"No, I mean-- I'm fine, I'm not--" Penny wipes at her eyes, too late attempting to regain control of herself. She starts to nod in response to Ginella's rather astute question, but something about that lean and the sleepy frankness of the goldrider's expression catches her, and her face screws up again. "Oh, Ginny, why doesn't he want me?" she wails then, ridiculously, bursting into a fresh bout of tears. Huh. Hormones, check.
Ginella starts to slowly straighten as Penny nods, only to stop as the smith's face crumples. Then she does it again, hauling herself off the desk to amble over to the big desk Penny's behind and take a seat on the edge of it, next to her big chair. "I thought he did want you?" she asks, through a yawn, "I thought he wanted too much, and that was the whole problem?"
Penny shakes her head, wiping at one cheek with her fingers and actually -hiccuping-, like a little girl. "He ended it. Not me. I told him I -wanted- to be with him." Her voice climbs a little bit at the end, a sign that more tears are not far off. "He told me I was right, back then when I said that it wasn't going to work... that I shouldn't come to his room anymore." Her lips tremble, and she lifts her chin, looking up at Ginella with tear-streaked face. "I am -so- irrational!" This last is rather plaintive, impatient.
Ginella finishes that yawn and rubs at her eyes again before sighing and pulling over a chair so she can sit at Penny's level. "You're just sad, Pen. It's not irrational, it's just... sad, and stressed." She reaches up a hand to brush at the smith's hair absently and offer a sympathetic smile. "And I'm /sure/ that it wasn't that he didn't want you. Maybe he thought it was for the best for you, or for you both, but I'm /sure/ he cares about you."
"You see this?" Penny points a quivering index finger to her face, brown eyes huge and still moist with tears, cheeks flushed and nose red. "-This- is irrational!" She doesn't sound as though she'll accept any argument on that score. She lets out a vocal sob again before lifting both hands to scrub at her face, a sign that she's attempting yet again to stop her uncharacteristic behavior. "Gin, why are you stuck with me when I'm acting like such a-- a-- a -girl-?" She shakes her head. "You should go back to bed. What possessed you to fetch your books at this hour?"
Ginella can't help but smile a bit and just nod along. "Okay," she concedes, digging into a coat pocket and producing a handkerchief, which she puts into Penny's hand. It's clean, promise. She just shrugs at the question and smiles crookedly. "Such a girl? You /are/ a girl, Pen, remember? I don' mind, s'much. Should've seen me when Tiv wouldn't have me back. Sobbed myself to sleep every night for sevens, practically. All pale and blotchy all the time... dreadfully irrational." She flashes another quick smile before shrugging. "I didn't wanna go up with out them. I don't remember why, t'be honest."
"Doesn't mean I should act like one." Penny stares at the handkerchief placed in her hand, and after a few seconds tears start to leak from her eyes again. "Did you really?" She looks back up at Ginella, gulping and then lifting the handkerchief to her face to wipe at her eyes and nose. Mm, mucus. She's really not at her most attractive right now. "I'm just-- so tired, and so hungry, but when I eat--" She grimaces, eyeing the orange as if it might try to poison her. "I just have this awful -headache-, if it would only go away I would be all right!" Because the lack of headache would solve all her problems.
"Sure it does," Ginny disagrees, "Everybody gets to act like a girl now and then." At the question, she actually laughs, and nods. "Oh Jays, yes. I was a huge mess, Pen, you would've laughed at me." She doesn't seem to mind the handkerchief actually getting used; it's not hers, anyways. She smooths Penny's hair back for her again and nods. "You really could use some sleep. A good long sleep, let yourself relax a little, and that should help the headache, at least. Probably tension, y'know? Have you asked the healers about food, at all? You need something. Even broth won't stick?"
"I wouldn't have!" protests Penny, though the faintly guilty grimace betrays her. "I can eat," she says. "Just not at certain times. I can't usually eat dinner, so..." She gestures to the orange, and then past it to the tea and a few rolls on a napkin nearby. "But then, Roa-- Roa came in and-- I'm not hungry anymore." And indeed she looks rather pale underneath the splotchiness as she swallows. "I think I really -am- pregnant," she says miserably, as if she had been seriously doubting herself before. Then -- because after coming this far, why not? -- she starts crying again.
Ginella knows Penny knows she would've laughed, so she lets it drop, nodding. "So you eat whenever you can, right? You're not going to get any happier starving yourself." The food is eyed, and she raises a brow. "Roa? What'd she do?" she asks, looking tempted by that orange again before turning her attention back to Penny as she once again begins crying. Ginella abandons hopes of the orange and reaches to rub Penny's upper arm. "Just let it out, Pen. Quit beating yourself up, and just go ahead and cry. You'll make the headache worse holding it in, and Faranth knows you deserve it, too."
Jensen has arrived.
"I eat when I can," Penny replies, choking a little on the words. "I'll be -fine-, I just-- need, need to go home..." The thought of home -- and what going there, between, implies -- brings the tears back on in another rush, and she turns towards Ginella rather blindly, clutching at her. "What is -wrong- with me!" she manages, some vestige of sense in her mind recognizing the uncharacteristic rushes of emotion and no doubt listing off the possibilities... low blood sugar, exhaustion, stress, pregnancy? Small wonder she's not comatose.
Perhaps not the best time for an entrance, but unfortunately Jensen is unaware until it's too late. He steps into the classroom and is too many steps in to turn back when he realizes just who's in here. Penny's crying, Ginella's, well, present, and he can think of nothing else to do but say, "Hi."
Ginella is not! Okay, she is, and not irrational enough to argue it. She nods at Penny, patting at her back as the smith clutches at her, smiling a bit at the (rhetorical) question. "Oh, all /sorts/ of things," she jokes, before adding more soberly: "But nothing that won't come right eventually." She seems content to let Penny cry until all of sudden Jensen's in the room, and she looks up, startled to see him for the second time tonight. "Pen..." she murmurs, not sure what to do.
It's rather astonishing, the electrifying effect one voice can have on a person -- Penny stiffens, hands tightening and no doubt crushing the fabric of Ginella's shirt, where her hands rest against the other woman's shoulders. She doesn't look round, face draining of blood. "Tell me I'm imagining things," she suggests, but then evidently decides against denial. She detaches herself from the goldrider, and turns, drawing herself somewhat shakily to her feet. Apparently not trusting her voice, she half-lifts a hand to wave a greeting. Yeah. Hi.
Jensen straightens up and progresses a little further into the room when he's confident nobody's going to be throwing anything at him, and nods once at Ginella. "I... just thought I'd," and he looks at Penny, noting her little wave and lifting his eyebrows, "come find you?" He rubs the back of his neck. Aheh.
"'Fraid not," Ginella replies quietly, turning to offer Jensen a tight smile. She stands as well, and touches Penny's hand to draw the smith's attention back, just for a moment. She doesn't speak, just gestures with a thumb and her head that she'll go. A quick, encouraging squeeze for her hand, and she moves away to find those damned books before she leaves.
"Come... find... -why-?" Penny asks weakly, still staring at him like he's some sort of creature come to carry her off into the darkness. Or possibly just an ex-boyfriend. The touch on her hand is not immediately noticed, but then Penny blinks and turns to look at Ginella. What? Oh-- oh! Her eyes widen at the prospect of being left alone, but it's only a moment before her independence manages to reassert itself. She swallows, nods, lifts a corner of her mouth it what might have been a smile if she didn't look rather ill.
Ginella's exit, whether appreciated or otherwise, definitely doesn't escape Jen's attention. He gives her a grateful look, some echo of the one he'd given her before perhaps when they talked earlier. "Roa talked t'me," is all he says in answer to Penny's emphatic question. And that seems to be all that's needed, just yet.
"Roa..." Penny looks blank, as if backtracking far enough in the evening's downward plummeting spiral to get to the other goldrider's appearance in the proceedings is too difficult. But then understanding dawns, and with it, a certain amount of horror. "She said-- she said... oh, shards." She moves to lean against the side of the desk, one hand on it for support, attempting (and in her current state, probably failing) to look casual. Now and then another tear escapes her eyes and trickles down her cheeks. "She made it sound-- rhetorical. -If- he came..." Her voice trails off, face pale and eyes distant.
Jensen maybe steps closer so suddenly because her leaning on a desk is possibly a bad sign, or maybe because he's afraid she'll bolt. Though, honestly, could she? Her state isn't hard to read. He's only a few feet from her now, watching her response and wincing when she says that last piece. He looks her over. "You, uh..." His voice cracks. "You look..." No, he'll not continue there. After a small pause he decides on something else, though perhaps not something safer, "I'm sorry, Penny." Then, after another moment, "'M sorry you haven't been feelin' good." Yeah, because that's totally what he meant.
Emotional turmoil, not a very subtle place to be in. When Jen moves toward her so quickly, Penny steps back away from the nice support of the desk. "Jen, don't," she says quietly, wide eyes fixed now on his face. "Don't apologize, or you'll sound like an idiot." Yes, she's full of sugar and spice tonight, isn't she? "I just need--" But whatever her imagined cure-all is, she doesn't say, face crumpling a little like she might start crying again in earnest, breathing quickening.
"Can't not do what I feel is right t'do," Jen says simply, and takes one more step towards her. It's her skittishness, her need for support from something other than her own legs, that's making him rather anxious. "What? What d'you need? What's gonna make this better?" His own expression softens incredibly when hers caves. "Penny."
Penny just continues staring at him almost as if she doesn't quite recognize him. She's silent, either thinking or unable to gather the air, through her shallow breaths, to speak. But eventually she answers: "Nothing. There's nothing." She sways once, twice, and comes back to center; it's the sound of her name that did it, really, and when it comes it almost seems half-conscious. She gives a half-uttered moan of capitulation, no longer able or willing to deal with Jensen on top of everything else, physical and emotional, that's ocurred this evening; without further warning, her legs simply stop holding her up and her eyes roll back as she falls.
Yeah, that's what he was afraid of. Being as close as he is serves to be more helpful than even he might have calculated, for when she drops he's right there. Sure, he had to sort of rush ahead a few strides to get under her in time, and when he catches her he almost loses his balance, but after a moment he straightens, looking down at her face, his own screwed up with concern and, it must be said, fear. One hand lifts while his other arm remains secure around her middle, and he presses its palm to her forehead. "Jays, darlin'." That hand smoothes over her hair and he presses a kiss to the spot it vacates, just between her eyebrows. "Gonna be okay," he murmurs. And, without further hesitating, he stoops, slips his other arm under her legs, resituates her a bit, and sweeps her up. Off to the infirmary, and quick.
Classroom
One of several classrooms used by the Weyr, this is the largest and most versatile. The walls adjacent to the bowl are lined with sandtables and high shelves that neatly store a variety of writing implements. Rather than the typical arrangement of student desks and benches lined up to face the front of the room, that furniture has been arranged in a broad semi-circle surrounding a bare work area. A single desk occupies the corner nearest the door exiting into the records room, providing a place for the current instructor to store their materials.
Caucus Office (CO) Records Room (RR) Bowl (B)
Ginella has arrived.
It's very, very late, long past the time when most students are asleep. The door to the classroom stands ajar, the pale light from a single glow emerging, and Roa's just recently left, dashing down the hallway. The sounds from the room are faint, merely the arhythmic, infrequent gasps of someone trying not to cry audibly; Penny is, of course, attempting to be done with her tears as soon as possible. Perhaps somewhat ridiculously, she clutches a partially peeled orange in one hand while the other is curled against her belly to hold it against the silent crying.
Why is Ginella here? It's a good question. She looks as though she's been asleep until just a few moments ago, still rubbing at her eyes as she ambles blindly into the classroom. The sound of crying pulls her up short, and she blinks at Penny a few times before finally exclaiming: "Penny!" She's surprised, certainly.
"Gah!" The exclamation is right on the heels of Ginella's utterance as Penny lifts her head with a strangled sniff. Both hands come to rub at her face -- splotchy and drained and pale all at once, this is crying unlike that displayed in their last big conversation. Quick and painful and meant not to be observed. She groans. "What are you -doing- here?"
/Blotchy/?! Not Penny. That's not possible. Ginella still looks shocked, and continues looking surprised at the smith's reaction. "I, umm... I forgot my books here earlier..." She explains, gesturing with a limp wrist towards a corner of the room. "Sorry. Didn't know you were here."
"I'm not!" ...not here? Sorry, Penny, there appears to be evidence to the contrary that supports the theory that you are, in fact, present at the current moment, and sitting behind what is usually the instructor's desk holding an orane and crying. She withdraws a little, setting down the fruit and lowering her face into her hands like a child who believes that if she can't see anybody, nobody can see her. "Doesn't anybody ever just go to sleep around here?" Her voice is rather hoarse.
Ginella just sort of blinks at Penny. "You're not?" She must be pretty tired, because she actually looks confused by this for a minute. She rubs at her face and gives herself a little shake, eyeing the orange, and then running a hand through her hair. "I was asleep?" she offers in response to the sulky question, "I fell asleep in the records room. Just got woke up." She takes a breath and then leans against a desk. "You want I should leave, then, really?"
"No, I mean-- I'm fine, I'm not--" Penny wipes at her eyes, too late attempting to regain control of herself. She starts to nod in response to Ginella's rather astute question, but something about that lean and the sleepy frankness of the goldrider's expression catches her, and her face screws up again. "Oh, Ginny, why doesn't he want me?" she wails then, ridiculously, bursting into a fresh bout of tears. Huh. Hormones, check.
Ginella starts to slowly straighten as Penny nods, only to stop as the smith's face crumples. Then she does it again, hauling herself off the desk to amble over to the big desk Penny's behind and take a seat on the edge of it, next to her big chair. "I thought he did want you?" she asks, through a yawn, "I thought he wanted too much, and that was the whole problem?"
Penny shakes her head, wiping at one cheek with her fingers and actually -hiccuping-, like a little girl. "He ended it. Not me. I told him I -wanted- to be with him." Her voice climbs a little bit at the end, a sign that more tears are not far off. "He told me I was right, back then when I said that it wasn't going to work... that I shouldn't come to his room anymore." Her lips tremble, and she lifts her chin, looking up at Ginella with tear-streaked face. "I am -so- irrational!" This last is rather plaintive, impatient.
Ginella finishes that yawn and rubs at her eyes again before sighing and pulling over a chair so she can sit at Penny's level. "You're just sad, Pen. It's not irrational, it's just... sad, and stressed." She reaches up a hand to brush at the smith's hair absently and offer a sympathetic smile. "And I'm /sure/ that it wasn't that he didn't want you. Maybe he thought it was for the best for you, or for you both, but I'm /sure/ he cares about you."
"You see this?" Penny points a quivering index finger to her face, brown eyes huge and still moist with tears, cheeks flushed and nose red. "-This- is irrational!" She doesn't sound as though she'll accept any argument on that score. She lets out a vocal sob again before lifting both hands to scrub at her face, a sign that she's attempting yet again to stop her uncharacteristic behavior. "Gin, why are you stuck with me when I'm acting like such a-- a-- a -girl-?" She shakes her head. "You should go back to bed. What possessed you to fetch your books at this hour?"
Ginella can't help but smile a bit and just nod along. "Okay," she concedes, digging into a coat pocket and producing a handkerchief, which she puts into Penny's hand. It's clean, promise. She just shrugs at the question and smiles crookedly. "Such a girl? You /are/ a girl, Pen, remember? I don' mind, s'much. Should've seen me when Tiv wouldn't have me back. Sobbed myself to sleep every night for sevens, practically. All pale and blotchy all the time... dreadfully irrational." She flashes another quick smile before shrugging. "I didn't wanna go up with out them. I don't remember why, t'be honest."
"Doesn't mean I should act like one." Penny stares at the handkerchief placed in her hand, and after a few seconds tears start to leak from her eyes again. "Did you really?" She looks back up at Ginella, gulping and then lifting the handkerchief to her face to wipe at her eyes and nose. Mm, mucus. She's really not at her most attractive right now. "I'm just-- so tired, and so hungry, but when I eat--" She grimaces, eyeing the orange as if it might try to poison her. "I just have this awful -headache-, if it would only go away I would be all right!" Because the lack of headache would solve all her problems.
"Sure it does," Ginny disagrees, "Everybody gets to act like a girl now and then." At the question, she actually laughs, and nods. "Oh Jays, yes. I was a huge mess, Pen, you would've laughed at me." She doesn't seem to mind the handkerchief actually getting used; it's not hers, anyways. She smooths Penny's hair back for her again and nods. "You really could use some sleep. A good long sleep, let yourself relax a little, and that should help the headache, at least. Probably tension, y'know? Have you asked the healers about food, at all? You need something. Even broth won't stick?"
"I wouldn't have!" protests Penny, though the faintly guilty grimace betrays her. "I can eat," she says. "Just not at certain times. I can't usually eat dinner, so..." She gestures to the orange, and then past it to the tea and a few rolls on a napkin nearby. "But then, Roa-- Roa came in and-- I'm not hungry anymore." And indeed she looks rather pale underneath the splotchiness as she swallows. "I think I really -am- pregnant," she says miserably, as if she had been seriously doubting herself before. Then -- because after coming this far, why not? -- she starts crying again.
Ginella knows Penny knows she would've laughed, so she lets it drop, nodding. "So you eat whenever you can, right? You're not going to get any happier starving yourself." The food is eyed, and she raises a brow. "Roa? What'd she do?" she asks, looking tempted by that orange again before turning her attention back to Penny as she once again begins crying. Ginella abandons hopes of the orange and reaches to rub Penny's upper arm. "Just let it out, Pen. Quit beating yourself up, and just go ahead and cry. You'll make the headache worse holding it in, and Faranth knows you deserve it, too."
Jensen has arrived.
"I eat when I can," Penny replies, choking a little on the words. "I'll be -fine-, I just-- need, need to go home..." The thought of home -- and what going there, between, implies -- brings the tears back on in another rush, and she turns towards Ginella rather blindly, clutching at her. "What is -wrong- with me!" she manages, some vestige of sense in her mind recognizing the uncharacteristic rushes of emotion and no doubt listing off the possibilities... low blood sugar, exhaustion, stress, pregnancy? Small wonder she's not comatose.
Perhaps not the best time for an entrance, but unfortunately Jensen is unaware until it's too late. He steps into the classroom and is too many steps in to turn back when he realizes just who's in here. Penny's crying, Ginella's, well, present, and he can think of nothing else to do but say, "Hi."
Ginella is not! Okay, she is, and not irrational enough to argue it. She nods at Penny, patting at her back as the smith clutches at her, smiling a bit at the (rhetorical) question. "Oh, all /sorts/ of things," she jokes, before adding more soberly: "But nothing that won't come right eventually." She seems content to let Penny cry until all of sudden Jensen's in the room, and she looks up, startled to see him for the second time tonight. "Pen..." she murmurs, not sure what to do.
It's rather astonishing, the electrifying effect one voice can have on a person -- Penny stiffens, hands tightening and no doubt crushing the fabric of Ginella's shirt, where her hands rest against the other woman's shoulders. She doesn't look round, face draining of blood. "Tell me I'm imagining things," she suggests, but then evidently decides against denial. She detaches herself from the goldrider, and turns, drawing herself somewhat shakily to her feet. Apparently not trusting her voice, she half-lifts a hand to wave a greeting. Yeah. Hi.
Jensen straightens up and progresses a little further into the room when he's confident nobody's going to be throwing anything at him, and nods once at Ginella. "I... just thought I'd," and he looks at Penny, noting her little wave and lifting his eyebrows, "come find you?" He rubs the back of his neck. Aheh.
"'Fraid not," Ginella replies quietly, turning to offer Jensen a tight smile. She stands as well, and touches Penny's hand to draw the smith's attention back, just for a moment. She doesn't speak, just gestures with a thumb and her head that she'll go. A quick, encouraging squeeze for her hand, and she moves away to find those damned books before she leaves.
"Come... find... -why-?" Penny asks weakly, still staring at him like he's some sort of creature come to carry her off into the darkness. Or possibly just an ex-boyfriend. The touch on her hand is not immediately noticed, but then Penny blinks and turns to look at Ginella. What? Oh-- oh! Her eyes widen at the prospect of being left alone, but it's only a moment before her independence manages to reassert itself. She swallows, nods, lifts a corner of her mouth it what might have been a smile if she didn't look rather ill.
Ginella's exit, whether appreciated or otherwise, definitely doesn't escape Jen's attention. He gives her a grateful look, some echo of the one he'd given her before perhaps when they talked earlier. "Roa talked t'me," is all he says in answer to Penny's emphatic question. And that seems to be all that's needed, just yet.
"Roa..." Penny looks blank, as if backtracking far enough in the evening's downward plummeting spiral to get to the other goldrider's appearance in the proceedings is too difficult. But then understanding dawns, and with it, a certain amount of horror. "She said-- she said... oh, shards." She moves to lean against the side of the desk, one hand on it for support, attempting (and in her current state, probably failing) to look casual. Now and then another tear escapes her eyes and trickles down her cheeks. "She made it sound-- rhetorical. -If- he came..." Her voice trails off, face pale and eyes distant.
Jensen maybe steps closer so suddenly because her leaning on a desk is possibly a bad sign, or maybe because he's afraid she'll bolt. Though, honestly, could she? Her state isn't hard to read. He's only a few feet from her now, watching her response and wincing when she says that last piece. He looks her over. "You, uh..." His voice cracks. "You look..." No, he'll not continue there. After a small pause he decides on something else, though perhaps not something safer, "I'm sorry, Penny." Then, after another moment, "'M sorry you haven't been feelin' good." Yeah, because that's totally what he meant.
Emotional turmoil, not a very subtle place to be in. When Jen moves toward her so quickly, Penny steps back away from the nice support of the desk. "Jen, don't," she says quietly, wide eyes fixed now on his face. "Don't apologize, or you'll sound like an idiot." Yes, she's full of sugar and spice tonight, isn't she? "I just need--" But whatever her imagined cure-all is, she doesn't say, face crumpling a little like she might start crying again in earnest, breathing quickening.
"Can't not do what I feel is right t'do," Jen says simply, and takes one more step towards her. It's her skittishness, her need for support from something other than her own legs, that's making him rather anxious. "What? What d'you need? What's gonna make this better?" His own expression softens incredibly when hers caves. "Penny."
Penny just continues staring at him almost as if she doesn't quite recognize him. She's silent, either thinking or unable to gather the air, through her shallow breaths, to speak. But eventually she answers: "Nothing. There's nothing." She sways once, twice, and comes back to center; it's the sound of her name that did it, really, and when it comes it almost seems half-conscious. She gives a half-uttered moan of capitulation, no longer able or willing to deal with Jensen on top of everything else, physical and emotional, that's ocurred this evening; without further warning, her legs simply stop holding her up and her eyes roll back as she falls.
Yeah, that's what he was afraid of. Being as close as he is serves to be more helpful than even he might have calculated, for when she drops he's right there. Sure, he had to sort of rush ahead a few strides to get under her in time, and when he catches her he almost loses his balance, but after a moment he straightens, looking down at her face, his own screwed up with concern and, it must be said, fear. One hand lifts while his other arm remains secure around her middle, and he presses its palm to her forehead. "Jays, darlin'." That hand smoothes over her hair and he presses a kiss to the spot it vacates, just between her eyebrows. "Gonna be okay," he murmurs. And, without further hesitating, he stoops, slips his other arm under her legs, resituates her a bit, and sweeps her up. Off to the infirmary, and quick.