cactusy | IC contact for lastvoyages

They're safe and sound in the kennels, I'm told.

[ She smiles at Jedao. Hello, friend! ]

[And after only a moment's more of hesitation, Shaw sticks her item through the bars to unlock the door, pushes it open, and steps out - making sure to keep a few feet of distance between her and Root as she does so.]

[Jedao closes his eyes, carefully scanning over Shaw's body for anything that shouldn't be there. It's just a little bit disappointing that he can't crush the chip's circuitry from the outside.]

You've got some gnarly scarring, but no chip. You're clear.

[Shaw closes her eyes, lets a little bit of tension leak out of her shoulders, and gives him a small nod.]

Thank you.

[It's very easy to mistake Shaw as the half of the Root-Shaw duo that eschews PDA; that wears a carefully-curated public mask that would risk being jostled by genuine, non-performative affection. But it's for the benefit of Root's boundaries that Shaw is careful in how she reaches out to her here: she steps forward to take her hand, giving it a squeeze, but stops short of initiating the hug that Root looks like she needs.]

You look like crap.

[She tells Jedao.]

The next time I ask you to do something that's probably unnecessary for anything but my own stupid peace of mind, you can tell me to buzz off if you want.

If I want to tell you that, I will.

[So there.]

[ Root, meanwhile, is careful not to push too hard with Shaw now. Like a child who's tired herself out too much to be angry anymore, she doesn't do more at the moment than squeeze Shaw's hand back. ]

Thanks, Jedao. [ Then, to Shaw-- ] Let's get your bandages changed.

Yeah.

[She starts to lift her free hand to rub at the back of her ear again, then stops, forcing it back down.]

Yeah, okay; sounds like a plan.

[ Giving Jedao a quick smile as a goodbye, Root tugs on Shaw's hand and starts heading to the nearest elevator. ]

This kind of thing happens a lot, doesn't it. Nobody seemed surprised to know what caused it.

I guess.

[She shrugs jerkily, giving Root's hand another squeeze.]

I listened to what Kiryu said. Didn't listen to the reactions.

It was mostly sarcasm and checking in to make sure people were okay.

[ Up they go. Finally. Out of Zero, after what felt like forever. ]

And I thought life back home was dangerous.

Back home, people stay dead.

[Which is a pretty major thing, Root!]

You're right. That's better here.

[ Because if Martine and Greer do show up, Root can kill them over and over.

But enough about those two. These two make it back to their cabin, and when the door is closed behind them, Root hugs Shaw, her shoulders all but deflating with the sigh she exhales over Shaw's shoulder. ]

You're okay.

[Shaw murmurs quietly: tucking her face against Root's shoulder, her bandage scraping against Root's cheek.]

We're okay. I'm-- okay.

That was terrible. [ said in a shaky whisper. ] I can't wait til we can go back home.

[ Together. Alive.

She holds on a little longer before pulling away and merting Shaw's gaze. ]

You don't have to be okay. You just have to be you.

[ Last week's chaos might be the closest Root will ever get to experiencing a fraction of what Shaw goes through every day. Questioning reality, believing things are a way they aren't, never feeling safe-- it's so much, and there's still little she can do to help. ]

It's my job to be okay. And if that really was just all in my head, if I really did just lose it and I never was an active danger - then I failed.

[She sounds matter-of-fact, not self-pitying, but she also sounds completely serious.]

It's impossible to always be okay, and none of this was your fault. There was a cursed sword on the ship, Sameen. I didn't even know that could be real.

[ She strokes Shaw's cheek with the backs of her fingers. ]

Doesn't matter whether or not it was my fault. It's still my responsibility to have my shit together.

[Shaw digs her chin against Root's chest, inhaling. ]

Couch?

[Couch please. ]

Agree to disagree. [ Neither is changing the other's mind, and Root does not want to get into it even playfully.

She kisses Shaw cheek. ] Couch.

[ She'll help Shaw get comfortably settled, get the first aid kit from the bathroom, and sit next to her. ]

[Shaw flops onto her back and reflexively dangles an arm over the side of the couch, before remembering that there are no dogs on hand to pet and withdrawing it, resting it on her stomach instead.]

Do your worst.

[She says, when she sees Root coming back with the first aid supplies.]

For you? Never.

[ Gently, she shifts them both around so Shaw's head is in Root's lap, on a fresh towel. Root is even gentler as she starts to pull off the tape. ]

Tell me if it hurts too much.

Do I look like a wuss.

[Shaw's injury is still raw, and it's a pretty gnarly one - but it had also been patched up well initially, and it's been well taken care of in the meantime. Just to see what Root will do, Shaw pulls a Root-like move: playfully snuggling her face against her stomach, using the proximity as an excuse to nuzzle.]

Not the point.

[ The wound is pretty bad, yeah, but it's clean. That's the best outcome, given the circumstances last week. Root throw out the dirty gauze pad, soaks a fresh one in saline, and starts patting off the excess fluids on and around the wound.

Shaw's little nuzzle makes her chuckle. ]

Careful. You don't want my hand to twitch and make this worse.

Revenge for getting gooey on me whenever I tried to patch you up.

[But she'll stay perfectly still, letting Root finish her job. ]

Cute.

[ She leaves it at that until she's done, the wound clean and covered, the dressing secured. Root sets aside the kit and runs her fingers through Shaw's hair. ]

Would you rather eat or nap now?

[As much as Shaw loves napping, and as tired as she is, she loves food even more - that, and she suspects that letting Root actively do something for her will go a long way towards making her feel a little better.]

Food.

[She murmurs, lifting the bottom hem of Root's shirt up a couple of inches so that she can press a kiss to her bare stomach.]

IC contact for lastvoyages

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