The Power of Hugs [for Sands]
((From here.))
He turns his head from side to side, smelling smoke, feeling the heat of fires and the Mexican sun, hearing gunshots. Slowly, he stands, reaching for one of his back-up weapons.
"That's enough." Ali rises to her feet, knowing that he can't hurt anybody here but also knowing that other people would try to hurt him if he started shooting randomly. And as sorry for this as she's going to be, he's getting a slap across the cheek.
He stops. "....what...?" Then the realization hits him, and he drops his hand. "I'm... sorry. Jesus. Shit. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," she assures him, her tone gentle (but worried) again. "I'm sorry I hit you, but I didn't want anyone to get shot." He'd feel her hands on his shoulders, silent invitation to hugs if he needs them.
He does hug her, tightly. He's still shaking a little bit. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." She holds him gently and rubs his shoulders, resisting the urge to pet his hair. "It's okay. It really is. I'm here, and I'm not going to let anybody hurt you."
He snuggles a bit closer, letting her words soothe him. He relaxes, stops shaking.
She keeps up the quiet stream of reassurances, warm and strong and not going anywhere until he's darn well good and ready.
He practically clings. Partly because he really is that upset, and partly because she's a hot chick. And as long as she doesn't touch his face, near his eyes, he's fine.
Ali's careful to not get too near his face, not wanting to set off another flashback: she knows he needs to calm down first. "Want to go someplace more private darling?"
He turns his head from side to side, smelling smoke, feeling the heat of fires and the Mexican sun, hearing gunshots. Slowly, he stands, reaching for one of his back-up weapons.
"That's enough." Ali rises to her feet, knowing that he can't hurt anybody here but also knowing that other people would try to hurt him if he started shooting randomly. And as sorry for this as she's going to be, he's getting a slap across the cheek.
He stops. "....what...?" Then the realization hits him, and he drops his hand. "I'm... sorry. Jesus. Shit. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," she assures him, her tone gentle (but worried) again. "I'm sorry I hit you, but I didn't want anyone to get shot." He'd feel her hands on his shoulders, silent invitation to hugs if he needs them.
He does hug her, tightly. He's still shaking a little bit. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." She holds him gently and rubs his shoulders, resisting the urge to pet his hair. "It's okay. It really is. I'm here, and I'm not going to let anybody hurt you."
He snuggles a bit closer, letting her words soothe him. He relaxes, stops shaking.
She keeps up the quiet stream of reassurances, warm and strong and not going anywhere until he's darn well good and ready.
He practically clings. Partly because he really is that upset, and partly because she's a hot chick. And as long as she doesn't touch his face, near his eyes, he's fine.
Ali's careful to not get too near his face, not wanting to set off another flashback: she knows he needs to calm down first. "Want to go someplace more private darling?"