[ But then she purses her lips at his question. She shouldn't be the one he's worried about, right now. She should be the one worrying over him, which she undoubtedly is, and he should be worrying about himself, about getting better.
And she knows she can't make light of this; she can't half-lie, half-truth her way out of this when it's clear that no, she hasn't been getting much or any sleep, lately, to the point where it's interfering with work and inadvertently making it more dangerous. It wasn't her style, letting her own health and well-being deteriorate in the slightest, despite the fact that she has a habit of working herself to the ground and not sleeping well. But when your lover is in an uncertain state of danger, you have no idea where he could even be, and the last time you saw him he just looked miserable and hurt yet he still sent you away, she just. Couldn't sleep, for some nights. She was scared, worried, and guilty all in one bundle of restlessness.
Then there was a night, when she had an all-too-vivid dream, and all the nights after that she'd given up on getting any good rest. She was back, on Bekenstein, all of a sudden. Everything played out almost exactly like That Time, down to her leaping from a ship and skydiving down to Donovan Hock's office, down to her tipping her hand too early, to her deceiving the guards with her decoy, to her hearing a blood-curdling scream over her comms.
Only this time, the scream wasn't Keiji's. It was Peter's, and when she lost her shit, blew her cover, ran to her partner's last known location, she didn't find Keiji's body hanging onto life in a pool of his own blood--she found Peter's.
So she'll try, try to be honest about this, but she still doesn't want to worry him. ]
Not lately, no. [ A beat. ] Been on a lot of busy jobs.
no subject
I'm looking forward to it, already.
[ But then she purses her lips at his question. She shouldn't be the one he's worried about, right now. She should be the one worrying over him, which she undoubtedly is, and he should be worrying about himself, about getting better.
And she knows she can't make light of this; she can't half-lie, half-truth her way out of this when it's clear that no, she hasn't been getting much or any sleep, lately, to the point where it's interfering with work and inadvertently making it more dangerous. It wasn't her style, letting her own health and well-being deteriorate in the slightest, despite the fact that she has a habit of working herself to the ground and not sleeping well. But when your lover is in an uncertain state of danger, you have no idea where he could even be, and the last time you saw him he just looked miserable and hurt yet he still sent you away, she just. Couldn't sleep, for some nights. She was scared, worried, and guilty all in one bundle of restlessness.
Then there was a night, when she had an all-too-vivid dream, and all the nights after that she'd given up on getting any good rest. She was back, on Bekenstein, all of a sudden. Everything played out almost exactly like That Time, down to her leaping from a ship and skydiving down to Donovan Hock's office, down to her tipping her hand too early, to her deceiving the guards with her decoy, to her hearing a blood-curdling scream over her comms.
Only this time, the scream wasn't Keiji's. It was Peter's, and when she lost her shit, blew her cover, ran to her partner's last known location, she didn't find Keiji's body hanging onto life in a pool of his own blood--she found Peter's.
So she'll try, try to be honest about this, but she still doesn't want to worry him. ]
Not lately, no. [ A beat. ] Been on a lot of busy jobs.
[ Well, maybe a little white lie wouldn't hurt. ]