(no subject)
Sam had spent the last couple of days not doing much of anything, which wasn't like her.
When she came back from the clinic, the few baby items she'd accumulated were gone. Books, a few baby clothes, the cradle Jack had made. She guessed Jack had gotten rid of them, and Sam was so glad. She hadn't wanted to come home and see any reminders of what she and Jack had lost. He must have known that. But Sam didn't ask him if he had.
She hadn't asked Jack much of anything, actually. They hadn't talked very much since she'd come home. She wasn't avoiding him, and in fact they were actually spending a lot of time together, but they weren't talking. Sam was tireder than she expected and slept a lot. When she wasn't sleeping, she was supposedly reading or tinkering with her computers or messing with her cello... except she wasn't. Not with her heart in it, anyway.
The sun, though... the sun was nice. She was glad the snow was gone and the sun was out and she could just sit in it without thinking of much. There were a couple of chairs out front of their hut. Jack had made them, a while back, because he liked to sit out there with his feet up and watch people go by on nice evenings. He probably would prefer to do that with a beer, but...
Anyway, Sam had been sitting out there in one of them for a while, long enough for the angle of the sun to drift across her lap, though she didn't really feel the urge to get up. She'd made an attempt at reading and then gave up, abandoning the book to the nearby table, but she still didn't get up. Then Socks jumped lightly up into her lap, curled up, and began purring, and Sam had even less of an inclination to move.
She'd sit here for a while, and when it got dark she'd go inside and go to sleep, and then get up and repeat it all tomorrow. The only thing she wondered was if it would hurt any less.
ooc: Sam's outside her and Jack's hut in New Atlantis. A little out of it, but company would be good for her, especially good friends.
When she came back from the clinic, the few baby items she'd accumulated were gone. Books, a few baby clothes, the cradle Jack had made. She guessed Jack had gotten rid of them, and Sam was so glad. She hadn't wanted to come home and see any reminders of what she and Jack had lost. He must have known that. But Sam didn't ask him if he had.
She hadn't asked Jack much of anything, actually. They hadn't talked very much since she'd come home. She wasn't avoiding him, and in fact they were actually spending a lot of time together, but they weren't talking. Sam was tireder than she expected and slept a lot. When she wasn't sleeping, she was supposedly reading or tinkering with her computers or messing with her cello... except she wasn't. Not with her heart in it, anyway.
The sun, though... the sun was nice. She was glad the snow was gone and the sun was out and she could just sit in it without thinking of much. There were a couple of chairs out front of their hut. Jack had made them, a while back, because he liked to sit out there with his feet up and watch people go by on nice evenings. He probably would prefer to do that with a beer, but...
Anyway, Sam had been sitting out there in one of them for a while, long enough for the angle of the sun to drift across her lap, though she didn't really feel the urge to get up. She'd made an attempt at reading and then gave up, abandoning the book to the nearby table, but she still didn't get up. Then Socks jumped lightly up into her lap, curled up, and began purring, and Sam had even less of an inclination to move.
She'd sit here for a while, and when it got dark she'd go inside and go to sleep, and then get up and repeat it all tomorrow. The only thing she wondered was if it would hurt any less.
ooc: Sam's outside her and Jack's hut in New Atlantis. A little out of it, but company would be good for her, especially good friends.