Well I keep everything inside so long till it burns...
Des is in his room and he was sleeping off the drugs and the pain in his chest from that little event, but somehow sleep is failing him and the drugs are starting to wear off, which might have something to do with why sleep is failing him, but the fact that his mind is racing right now might also have something to do with it.
He died. He actually ( Read more... )
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Because if it weren't, Kara would have broken it down without a second thought. She was perfectly willing to leave him alone when he was sleeping, but now that he's not...
There's a girl standing in his open doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, glowering at him in that "you have no idea how much trouble you re in" look. This is the glare that has made nightmares whimper and cower, albeit in another universe.
Actually, come to think of it, the word "trouble" doesn't begin to describe where Des is right now, unless he starts apologizing very, very quickly.
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Oddly enough, so would running away. Not that it would help.
"Kara," he squeaks out, because he knows why she's here and why she's pissed (he didn't make it a habit to tell people about what happened and if Martha did, it's her choice, but no one needs to tell her anything). He's not that stupid.
He'll get to the apologizing when his voice comes back.
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"I felt you die," she says after a minute or so, distantly, accusingly. Felt isn't so much the right word, though. She lived him dying, just as much as if it were her who'd been shot. She just doesn't have the wounds to show for it.
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What do you say to that? I'm sorry you felt me die just sounds so... Hokey. And it doesn't convey the sheer amount of sorry he feels for it. He's not a big expert on psychics, but the sheer concept of feeling someone- especially if it was someone you cared about- die is just... Horrific.
He finally does manage a rather feeble, but still utterly sincere, "I'm sorry" despite it not being good enough as far as he's concerned. "I'm really sorry."
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And he talked to someone who talked to someone who overheard Martha talking to someone else about what happened.
And so now he's going to come barreling through Des' door, just seething.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?"
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So his initial reaction to his best friend tearing through his door looking like someone just told him smoking has been declared illegal and Prohibition has started all over again, is utter confusion.
"The fuck is your problem?" He says, although he's still drugged enough for the edge to be taken off of it so it's less imposing than he would have wanted it to be.
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No, the fact that he died and was revived and is still probably in a lot of pain does not stop Mathias from punching Des.
He was scared out of his mind at the thought of something happening to him. And even the thought that he'd almost lost Des...
He refuses to lose him again. Just... refuses.
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But he often tells that logical side to shut up.
"OW! Who the hell told you that? You know people in this hotel are filled with lies and you shouldn't listen to them."
Oh yes, Des. That's helping your case immensely, especially with the guilty bullet wound on your chest.
He'll get around to admitting how much of an idiot he is in a minute when he stops being indignant about getting punched.
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Martha still does not know what she needs to talk to him about. Really. Or if the words would even come if she tried. Maybe she just needs to see that he's alive, considering she keeps dreaming of his death.
She's not sure she has the energy for it anyway, but she can't sleep and she keeps thinking about how she needs to talk to him, about how Ripley hates her for bringing Des back, but not Brando, and her heart continues to feel as if its exploding in her chest, multiple times... she needs to do something.
It's only a few moments that she stands in front of the door, debating, and then she opens it, sliding into the room, quietly. In case he's managed to fall asleep since she talked to him via journal. Oh, twenty minutes ago or so.
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He has his journal in his lap and he's tapping out a beat on the cover, occasionally peeking inside it, but he abandons it the second Martha enters the room and he sits up a bit straighter in bed.
"Martha Jones," he says, giving her his best, 'I'm completely okay, don't you dare even worry about me- what about you?' smile.
Yes, he can convey all that in a smile. Really.
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"Des," she manages, after a moment.
It seems like the best response.
She continues closer to him, but then just sort of stands there, awkwardly before she thinks up some good small chat. It's better than nothing, right? Better than silence.
"How're you feeling? ... really?"
Yes, she is blatantly ignoring what he managed to convey in that smile.
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"I'm fine, give or take the pain which can be made peachy with the use of heavy medication so don't worry about it," he says, rather slowly as if he's thinking of something else while he's saying it.
"Are you okay, and please don't lie to me, because it's clearly obvious you're not, and I'm just asking because it's polite."
Sometimes you have to just outright say something instead of just conveying it in a look, which he could have done.
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