Swimming

[drownondryland]

Almost before she's opened her eyes, Meredith's sinking down into the clinic chair, gripping the desk as if that should keep her steady now. Even with blurred vision, she knows she's back where she's supposed to be, but it's a little longer before relief sets in; she's occupied in wiping the tears from her eyes, taking deep, calming breaths.

Comments

[missingthekeep]

Sean's sleep has been more fitful than usual in the days since Halloween, and while he has to believe that's something that will only get better with a bit more time, it's still more of a relief than anything when he hears Meredith quietly creeping in, rousing him from his latest attempts at rest.

"Hey, you," he says with a tired smile, pushing himself up to sit.

[drownondryland]

Meredith, for once, obeys her initial impulses, climbing up onto the bed to kiss him hard, absurdly grateful for the absolutely mundane nature of the scene, for his presence, for everything being the way it's supposed to be. Maybe not anywhere else, maybe not in any other part of her life, but right here and now, she's where she should be doing what she wants to. It was all just some bizarre dream, some product of the island perhaps, and she's here now. It's going to be fine. She'll just need a few minutes to calm down and keep moving forward, but the important thing is, she will. Resting her forehead against his when she pulls back, she smiles. "Did I wake you up?" she asks. She never can be sure. That weariness is never any guarantee either of them's been getting much-needed rest.

[missingthekeep]

"Kinda," Sean admits, shrugging as he brushes his thumb across her cheek. He'd really only been somewhat out of it at best, so there wasn't a whole lot to wake him from. "With a greetin' like that, though, who'm I ta complain?"

[drownondryland]

"Well, as long as I made it worth your while," Meredith says. It's less happiness, though that's there, too, than almost overwhelming relief; the panic of having lived that again is ebbing away, more memory now than a real thing. This certainty, this blissful normality, won't last long, she knows, and she doesn't want to waste it this time, but she doesn't know what to do with it either except be here. All the same, she's buzzing with it now, not so much steady as sure, though she's yet really to make sense of this. Slowly, reluctantly, she pulls back. "You can go back to sleep, it's fine. I'm just gonna change for bed."