[ the morning after ]

[fanofthegenre]

When Beckett wakes up, there's a crick in her neck and a fuzzy feeling in her mouth - not to mention the pounding on the inside of her skull

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[trigger_man]

There's a weight on his lap, leaning against his chest, a pounding in his head. The weight moves, and most of the fuzziness in his head clears as instinct kicks in. He's not sure what the weight is, and opening his eyes only sends more pain lancing through his skull.

All he knows is he needs to get the weight off, and he fumbles to push against it.

[fanofthegenre]

"Hey," Beckett says, in a half-whisper, trying to reassure with soft words and gentle contact, easing herself off his lap and lingering along his side.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me."

[trigger_man]

Beckett's voice breaks through the panic, and the memories of where he is, of the night before start to beat back the panic.

"Beckett?" he asks in a croak, his mouth feeling like it had been packed in sawdust.

[fanofthegenre]

"Yeah," she says, nodding slowly, and doesn't lean in too close to him, but lingers nearby for the moment when he finally opens his eyes.

"I'm right here."