Better not cry...

[piper90npcs]

Who: Everyone
What: Missions
Where: Ranging from the Rig to the North Pole and back
When: December
Warnings/Notes: Combat.

Sometimes, the holiday season passes without note. Sometimes it's the most eventful time of the year, capable of giving a poor stock worker PTSD. Fortunately for the Rig, they don't work in customer service. No, they're troubleshooters, which means that it's up to them to solve whatever problems Jorgmund points them at.

It just so happens that, this month, Jorgmund's using them less as a tactical nuke and more as a shotgun.

Comments

let me know if this is okay!

[bothbarrels]

They enter the rig, and he carries her to medbay. Makes sure she's settled in a cot, with a warm blanket and broth and other liquids. He sits by while the nurses fuss over her after her exam, and waits while she sips her broth.

"Feeling all right now?" he asks once it's been consumed.

[ownperson]

South puts up a little fuss as the nurses do their thing, but is otherwise well-behaved. Let's them do their examination, tests, whatever, if sometimes with a scowl on her face or grumbling vaguely under her breath.

She does feel much better than she did, wrapped up and with the broth in her. Warmer, at least.

"...better. Alright would be pushing it." She shuffles, adjusts her position. "Head still hurts like a motherfucker."

[bothbarrels]

North nods, thinking. They need to talk, sometime, but this may not be the best time.

"You feel confused at all? Disoriented?"

[ownperson]

"...thought you'd have left by now. Does that count?" she says, the attempt at bite in the words dulled by the very real disorientation that still has her noticeably off-kilter.

[bothbarrels]

"Mm. Yeah, I know."

They're still very much at odds right now, but he doesn't intend to leave until he knows her prognosis, at the very least.

"And it does, yes."

[ownperson]

She huffs quietly, huddles more in the blanket. "Then yeah, I'm confused and disoriented. Don't even get how you found me."

She doesn't look at him, just keeps her eyes out towards the rest of the infirmary, keeping an eye out, waiting.

[bothbarrels]

"York told me where you were," he says. He watches her, watches her seemingly struggling with sleep, and sits there, unwilling to leave quite yet.

[ownperson]

"Ugh. Course he fuckin' did. Why can none of you ever just be assholes. Follow through, for once." She grumbles, rubs her face. Not that she wanted to be left out there to die, of course. "Whatever. Woulda found my way back."

She wouldn't.

[bothbarrels]

"I'll keep in mind that you requested that," he says mildly.

[ownperson]

She scowls and gives him a look, but before she can open her mouth and say anything one of the nurses comes back to pass on results.

"It's definitely a concussion, but it isn't anything immediately life-threatening. Still, we're going to keep you in here overnight, just in case, then you can go free tomorrow."

South huffs again. "Ugh, fine. See, North? I'm fine. You can go."

A little part of her doesn't want him to, but what does that little part know? That little part can fuck off.

[bothbarrels]

"If you want me to," he says, rising to his feet.

[ownperson]

"I don't need a babysitter when there's fuckin' nurses and shit," she says, giving him a look and then looking away. "So yeah. You can go."

That isn't a 'I want you to', but he'll know it's also far from an invitation to stay.

[bothbarrels]

"Sure. Whatever."

He doesn't want to leave but she is clearly done with this situation.

He turns and walks out.

[ownperson]

He leaves and she huddles down more in the blankets, not watching him go and not looking at the poor nurse still standing there.

Not for the first time since her arrival, she tells herself she's fine with this, with being alone. She didn't want him to stay and baby her. But it's a long lonely night in the infirmary, and it gets harder and harder to convince herself as the hours go on.

Whatever. Too late now.