[ He's barely recognising her, only responding to her in the barest minimum, out of it in more ways than one. ]
Oil. [ Is all he says for a while. He's suddenly too hot, oh god, too hot and his clothes are covered in oil, oh god, he needs to get them off. The feeling, the smell of it, the heat, he can't stand it, and he brushes her off to start pulling at his shirt somewhat ineffectually. ] Water.
[ She calms him down a little bit, but there's a long way to go. ]
Tony. [ Repetitive and still firm, letting him brush her hands off in favor of helping him with his shirt. If he feels like it needs to come off it can come off. She just wants to get this out of his head, tear it out and keep him safe but that's going to take time and effort. She's more than willing to put them both in, but seeing him like this -
It's the time part she dislikes. He deserves better than this, and the longer it goes on the worse it is for him. ]
What about water? [ The oil she can understand, he's covered in it from all of his work, generally is, but she can't see water anywhere. ]
[ She helps him get the shirt off and he's grateful, sure, but can't really say it right now, and anyway, it doesn't help as much as he'd thought. He can still feel the residue of it on his skin, still knows it's there, still isn't in the right state of mind to function properly and it's starting to send him back into a panic because oh god oh god what does he do? ]
Shower. I was... because of the oil. But. [ The thought of the small space. Of the water falling on his head. He - just... He can smell the sharp twinge of the oil hitting his olfactory nerves though, can feel the fumes rising off of him, and shit. No thank you. He'd like to try and move again, but he just can't. ]
don't you pft me you are the best there are no two ways about it
Breathe. [ Running her hands over his shoulders and arms, steady and gentle, trying to show him that everything's all right, there's nothing wrong with his body right now. ] I need you to breathe for me. Just in and out, one breath at a time.
[ She's using the tone she uses when she expects obedience, firm and absolutely sure, nothing about it sounding like questioning is allowed. It may not help, but there's a small chance he could be used to listening to it enough that he will automatically right now, not stopping to let it filter through what he's feeling right now. It's worth a try.
Anything's worth a try, if it helps this. ] We can grab a towel and clean you off at the sink, you don't need a shower.
[ It takes a second for her words to register, quick and shallow breaths louder for the moment than the authority in her voice. But it does hit, apparently something deeper than whatever the hell is happening to him right now and that's fine, that's good. It's helpful, even though he stops breathing altogether for a second, rebooting the process as it were. Just a few seconds, nothing serious, and then he attempts a full exhalation, shaky and stuttering, but there it is. Then a deep breath in, and that's done much the same way, starting and stopping at points along the way, but it's better than before, and slowly smoothing out.
Smoothing out enough for the analytical part of his mind to come screaming back into action, trying to catalogue everything it can all at once and make sense of it now that the volume on the panic has abated just enough for another channel to be heard. He glances around the room, scanning the immediate area; there's a very quick sweep with his senses, checking everything he can with just a touch so as not to risk anything coming back and hitting him too hard; he even double-checks her with a momentary brush of her mind - not too much contact, because he doesn't want too much contact with anything right now, raw nerve at the mercy of the dust in the air that he is at the moment, but enough to make sure.
He'd probably be talking more if there wasn't so much effort going into that breathing thing she mentioned. It's not until after he's sure he's checked everything that he manages to start breathing through his nose like a normal, not flipping out person, and even then he clearly isn't sure what to do right now. ] It's really hot in here. My - god, face, my whole head is hot. There's so many smells in here.
[ Okay, he's breathing now. That's a good sign, or at least it's a good start. It's a pretty important function, and once you can breathe - the feeling of not being able to breathe is a pretty good panic starter just by itself, and for him in particular. Being able to breathe again should help ease things a little.
The cataloging she just waits on, watching him carefully and leaving herself unshielded so that he can know for certain when he brushes her that it's her, nothing weird going on there. She's had that moment more than a few times, she doesn't want him to have to worry. ]
Do you want to move somewhere else? Would that be better? [ A little softer now, quiet - she doesn't want to overwhelm his hearing if he's started using his senses more actively now. ]
i thought it was a good business card for 'the best'
[ It should, yeah. It's helping a little bit, but he's still not totally back with her yet.
He was using them partially on purpose and partially just because hey that's apparently what anxiety does to you. Makes you really fucking aware of your surroundings. It's a few moments before he responds to her again though. ]
I don't think I can walk yet. It probably would, but I still can't really feel anything so I'm gonna just sit. I think that's a good idea. [ He kind of just doesn't really want to move, because everything feels weird and far away but far far too close and hazy but sensitive and there's so many things to worry about right now that he's not really sure he wants to start on any one of them individually just yet. He doesn't want to aggravate anything, even though it's entirely plausible that just sitting here will do that anyway. There's not really any good answer for this. He's still trying to figure out what happened in the first place. ] Am I bleeding? Does anything look broken?
[ Anxiety is a strange beast. It can close you off and open you up in the strangest combinations. She waits, hands resting gently on his shoulders as she watches him like a hawk. It's strange to see this look on him, the confusion of it. Tony is the most aware person she knows, always sure of himself. Him not knowing what to do or what's going on is off, it's wrong in all kinds of ways that she hates. ]
Nothing's broken. I don't see any blood anywhere. Physically everything's fine, you don't need to worry about that. [ And with a glance downwards for a moment. ] If anything was wrong with the reactor JARVIS would have said so by now. [ JARVIS provides his assent, and her gaze drifts back to his eyes, still watching, searching for any visible signs. ]
We can sit. [ She tugs another chair up so she can sit down, one leg pressed against his. ] Everything's going to be fine.
[ He's categorically not used to it yet, at least not in this fashion. Anxiety as a whole, of course, sure. It's impossible to be as smart as he is, as aware as he is, have gone through what he has, without some measure of anxiety in general. He's similarly not fond of this whole 'unsure' business. He's ill-suited for it, in his own personal opinion, and he'd like for it to stop soon.
Technically, he was asking if anything in the workplace was broken, and then if he was personally bleeding - sort of in that order but he fucked up the antecedents and shit. He accepts the answer anyway; if anything in the room is broken, it'll just serve as a project to work on later. And he'll probably need one. ]
No, the reactor - reactor's fine. [ He can tell that part. The heart, mostly. The brain, not so much, but he can tell when the reactor isn't working right. Look at those priorities, that learning curve. He's more familiar with the technology he's put in his body than the body he's had for forty-plus years.
He's a little more lucid right now than he was before, at least. So there's that. Actually he's kind of surprised he's in a chair, apparently. He was pretty sure he was sitting on the floor. ] Where'd you go? [ And that's not accusing at all, like it could sound without the intonation he gives it. Nothing but pure curiosity, taking his mind off of things in the moment, while his body catches up with the process. ]
[ They're not doing just the 'fix things a lot until problems go away' method of dealing with this. Not after everything she's been feeling in his mind the past few minutes, the rawness bleeding out of him. Not after watching the look on his face. This - she doesn't want him to have to live through this again, not if she can help it.
You can't fix people. You can only love them, and offer them as much help towards fixing themselves as you can. It was a hard lesson to learn years ago, and it's a hard one to have to remember now, but she can still offer as much of herself as she can and hope it will be enough to help. ]
It is. [ She covers his hands with hers lightly, leans towards him as she answers his question. ] I was running low on a few clothing things so I went shopping for a little bit and picked up some more. Underwear, t-shirts, that sort of thing. Basics. What were you building, while I was gone? [ On the off chance he can answer and it'll help the calming process. ]
[ But he loves that method of dealing with this. Patchwork, okay, he's pretty good at surviving and that's typically a lot of how that tends to work. Anyway, he's pretty sure you can't fix whatever the hell all of this is just by... Well. He's not totally sure you can fix it at all. It feels sometimes like he's just traded one set of dysfunctionality for another, altogether different one.
There's not a whole lot of response to her touches right now, but his hands twist towards hers fractionally, at least. He closes his eyes for a few long moments, consciously working on continuing to have breathing that's as even as possible, and just letting her words wash over him in the meantime. Words are good, talking is good. People don't talk to him at his worst moments, at all the times he's been the most frightened of things, and he wonders occasionally if it isn't partially that circumstance that makes them so.
It takes a little while longer to reply than it would normally, but that in itself doesn't seem that unusual right now. ] High altitude suit. More well pressurized, functional with thinner atmospheres, more resistant to higher Gs. [ There's certainly not an obvious reason he'd be working on things that lead to potentially working better in space, or closer to it. Definitely not. ]
[ It's not really dealing so much as it is just putting it off, though, and she knows the difference very well because she's done both. Mostly the putting it off one, really. Primarily that one. Which she thinks means she's in a qualified position to point out that the results frequently really, really suck.
Fixing, maybe not, but - improving it, hopefully. At least somewhat. She takes that small twist of his hands and slides hers into his, twines their fingers and holds on. She'll keep talking forever if it's going to keep having a calming effect on him. ]
Yeah? Sounds like a good project. It must be hard to keep the mobility and make it resistant enough. [ But yeah, that's not hard to guess why he's making a suit that can withstand space, not with what she knows from past incidents about how he feels about space. She changes the subject and keeps going. Later, maybe, once he's recovered more, she'll bring that up again. But not until then, because she thinks it would be almost useless to bring it up now. ] Have you eaten yet today?
[ He allows that as well, the interlocking of their fingers. His grip is still somewhat loose, but that's simply because it's a steady grip. If it feels like she's going to pull away, that grip will instantly tighten.
He did like her talking though. Something to focus on without too much thinking over his own. Not that the thinking doesn't help either, because it does, it helps him organize his thoughts.
There's a sort ot stiff-shouldered shrug. ] Difficult but not impossible. Discovered an alloy that would work for it a bit better. [ Waiting until later's probably a fantastic idea in general though.
With that question it's hard to tell if he looks like he's actually trying to figure it out or just wasn't expecting it. It turns out as a few moments pass and the look changes a bit, that he's trying to remember. He's fairly certain he ate yesterday, and she's going to try and make him eat if he says the wrong thing, but he just... After a while he just sort of shrugs disinterestedly. ]
[ She's fine with loose, so long as he's showing enough presence to either accept or reject it one way or another. And currently he seems to be passing that test, which is a really nice thing.
She makes a noncommittal noise to his answer about the alloy, because more and more she's quite convinced that that's a subject she doesn't want to touch until whatever point he's back in a much more coherent and normal state of mind, one in which reminders of what's been bothering him are less likely to start something all over again. So she moves on, considers how he responds to the question about food, and then starts talking. ]
Maybe a smoothie or something would be a good idea later, once you're feeling better. [ But she tries to make it clear in her tone of voice that it's nothing more than a suggestion, something she thinks would be a good idea but she's not going to push. ] I mean, there's only a 50% chance of it being uncontaminated but Dummy would probably welcome the chance to try, he's been in time out a lot lately. [ Nothing that requires an answer if he doesn't want to give one, just easy pauses if he wants to interject before she keeps onwards. ] I think maybe you should get cleaned up first, though - wipe down and change clothes. [ Not shower. Maybe a bath, maybe, but not somewhere tight and enclosed and full of water. That she knows more than enough to know is a very bad plan. ]
[ He's pretty good at tests in general. He's always tested well. Mostly.
The smoothie suggestion seems to be entertained at first, but then he is quickly turned off the idea. His stomach twists with the suggestion, and he decides that the whole not eating idea has been his best one in a long time. Eyes shut again, he just shakes his head once, and then fairly calmly replies. ] Yeah, you know, maybe later, we can do that. Has he? [ Been in time out a lot? Tony feels like that's his fault. Bad parenting. ] A little later. [ And a little louder, since he's been quiet. ] Dummy, buddy, in an hour. Best of three, okay?
[ With the last suggestion though, he does open his eyes again and glance down at himself, apparently surprised by the lack of clothing and the oil. Or he's just still kind of out of it. One of the two. ] Yeah, okay.
[ This is not the usual sort of test, though. For one she has a few other ways of determining whether he's okay than other people might.
To her it feels like a lot, but who knows how the two of them are really getting along at any given moment. Always well enough, despite how much insistence that Dum-E is about to be turned into a wine rack happens. Mostly right now she's just throwing out things to add into the conversation, give her more reason to keep talking because she doesn't want to put him on the spot anymore, just let him sit and listen and calm down. ] I'm sure he'll be thrilled.
[ Maybe a little of both, even. He was barely breathing what seems like far too little time ago, but it does seem like getting out of this space for at least a little bit could be a good idea. She rests a hand on his knee, leans forward a little. ] Do you think you can move with me, or do you want to sit still for a little longer? We can do either one.
I can already hear him twirling his claw with anticipation. [ It's kind of comforting, in a way. One that he probably couldn't describe even if he wanted to try doing so, for lots of different reasons. He loves Dummy - Dummy was his first baby, the oldest of his boys - and yeah, undoubtedly, Dummy's a little special sometimes, but Tony really only puts effort into insulting things he cares about. Sort of. Point is, he'd never actually give Dummy away. Or dismantle him. Hell, he hasn't even been able to bring himself to fix the bot's more unusual glitches.
He considers that for all of a couple seconds before he nods a little. ] Yeah, yeah, I can move. It'll be fine. Totally. Let's go to another room.
He's probably already planning exactly how much oil he can get away with putting into it. Or the most efficient way to do it. You know. [ Light and easy, amused. She likes the robot pretty well, and she likes him most of all for the fact that he makes Tony happy on a regular basis. Anything that makes Tony happy is good in her books.
And okay, that agreement was a little fast for her to actually put a great deal of faith in it, but after a moment of evaluation she stands up and holds out both of her hands to him. ] Then let's head upstairs. I think there's probably a little bit more natural light up there, too.
I've never really... [ Ooh, breathing is still sort of a thing. Okay. ] Been able to tell if he thinks I need motor oil or if he just can't tell that I don't. But damn if he doesn't try.
[ Oh, right, he agreed to that. Like, two seconds ago. What was he thinking. But okay, okay. She stands up, and he already wants to follow her, so the hands and the standing, that goes fairly smoothly. He's a little shaky on his feet, his thighs are full of adrenalin that hasn't gone anywhere, been used for anything, so he's a little wobbly and jittery and it's all to do with the adrenaline. Nothing else, no sir. ] Okay. Ready. [ She's clearly picking where they're going, and he's fine just so long as she doesn't walk too fast and doesn't let go of his hand. ]
[ She stays still for a long moment after he first stands up, moves close enough that she can take most of his weight easily should he need her to, waiting for him to get his balance and center of movement under him. For the moment she won't comment on it, but it's definitely on the list of things that she's going to have to talk to him about because this - this is not improving. ] We'll take the elevator. [ Because that seems like the best idea, here. nd there's no way she's going to let go of his hand, her grip quite firm. Nor is she planning on walking at more than a pretty slow amble, moving backwards so that she can stay watching him. ] Can you drink some water, or would that be too much?
[ He leans on her a little bit but mostly he's trying to move of his own volition. It's nice that she's here; he appreciates it. He's not always sure what to do with her, but right now he doesn't even care. He willingly holds on to her hand, leans a little more on her than he probably would if he weren't still dealing with so much from the attack. ] Uh, yeah, okay. Elevator. [ Elevator works. ] Just no stairs.
[ He considers the water question with no small amount of pause. Tries not to make a face. ] I probably need it but I don't know. It might be. Might be just what I'm craving. We can try it.
[ She moves as if he's not putting any weight on her, doesn't mention it at all. Whatever he needs to do she's willing to help, and sometimes help can only be taken if it's not acknowledged. ] Stairs are boring anyways. [ Lightly, easy. She refuses to try to make it into a big thing, because the bigger a deal it is - knowing him, he'll feel like it was his fault or something he did, and it wasn't.
She nods, considers. ] Then we'll get some water and just sit down for a little bit.
[ She's just so damn smart. It's unreal sometimes, her intuition. Or just how quickly she thinks in terms of knowing how to do things to the point where it looks like intuition. He considers them to be the same thing. ]
Yeah, boring. [ She's doing a good job. He's leaning on her a little more as they keep moving, as well as a little more whenever water is mentioned. ] Yeah okay. Sounds like a plan. Maybe a bottle? From the fridge. Not a cup. Dunno why. Just a thought.
[ It's probably about half and half, and certainly the longer and better she knows him the more it becomes just intuition because she knows him and therefore knows what might work.
She presses the button for the second floor, by the kitchen, and glances over at him, nods. ] Or juice. Juice boxes are always amazing. [ She can guess what it is he's been thinking about, if he's avoiding open water, but that's not due to be brought up yet. Not quite. He needs to be settled first. ] How was your morning?
[ He takes the opportunity to lean a little more on the side of the elevator than on her, because he's just realized how much he was leaning on her, and no. ]
We have juice boxes? I'd -- really go for a juice box. Yeah.
[ Thinking back over things, skipping over the obvious. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i don't know why you think that
Oil. [ Is all he says for a while. He's suddenly too hot, oh god, too hot and his clothes are covered in oil, oh god, he needs to get them off. The feeling, the smell of it, the heat, he can't stand it, and he brushes her off to start pulling at his shirt somewhat ineffectually. ] Water.
[ She calms him down a little bit, but there's a long way to go. ]
because you are!
It's the time part she dislikes. He deserves better than this, and the longer it goes on the worse it is for him. ]
What about water? [ The oil she can understand, he's covered in it from all of his work, generally is, but she can't see water anywhere. ]
pft
Shower. I was... because of the oil. But. [ The thought of the small space. Of the water falling on his head. He - just... He can smell the sharp twinge of the oil hitting his olfactory nerves though, can feel the fumes rising off of him, and shit. No thank you. He'd like to try and move again, but he just can't. ]
don't you pft me you are the best there are no two ways about it
[ She's using the tone she uses when she expects obedience, firm and absolutely sure, nothing about it sounding like questioning is allowed. It may not help, but there's a small chance he could be used to listening to it enough that he will automatically right now, not stopping to let it filter through what he's feeling right now. It's worth a try.
Anything's worth a try, if it helps this. ] We can grab a towel and clean you off at the sink, you don't need a shower.
http://images.plurk.com/zfKB-2d5NZjzW6fIUpzTw04bzEK.jpg
Smoothing out enough for the analytical part of his mind to come screaming back into action, trying to catalogue everything it can all at once and make sense of it now that the volume on the panic has abated just enough for another channel to be heard. He glances around the room, scanning the immediate area; there's a very quick sweep with his senses, checking everything he can with just a touch so as not to risk anything coming back and hitting him too hard; he even double-checks her with a momentary brush of her mind - not too much contact, because he doesn't want too much contact with anything right now, raw nerve at the mercy of the dust in the air that he is at the moment, but enough to make sure.
He'd probably be talking more if there wasn't so much effort going into that breathing thing she mentioned. It's not until after he's sure he's checked everything that he manages to start breathing through his nose like a normal, not flipping out person, and even then he clearly isn't sure what to do right now. ] It's really hot in here. My - god, face, my whole head is hot. There's so many smells in here.
alskdfd that's beautiful
The cataloging she just waits on, watching him carefully and leaving herself unshielded so that he can know for certain when he brushes her that it's her, nothing weird going on there. She's had that moment more than a few times, she doesn't want him to have to worry. ]
Do you want to move somewhere else? Would that be better? [ A little softer now, quiet - she doesn't want to overwhelm his hearing if he's started using his senses more actively now. ]
i thought it was a good business card for 'the best'
He was using them partially on purpose and partially just because hey that's apparently what anxiety does to you. Makes you really fucking aware of your surroundings. It's a few moments before he responds to her again though. ]
I don't think I can walk yet. It probably would, but I still can't really feel anything so I'm gonna just sit. I think that's a good idea. [ He kind of just doesn't really want to move, because everything feels weird and far away but far far too close and hazy but sensitive and there's so many things to worry about right now that he's not really sure he wants to start on any one of them individually just yet. He doesn't want to aggravate anything, even though it's entirely plausible that just sitting here will do that anyway. There's not really any good answer for this. He's still trying to figure out what happened in the first place. ] Am I bleeding? Does anything look broken?
it is i support it
Nothing's broken. I don't see any blood anywhere. Physically everything's fine, you don't need to worry about that. [ And with a glance downwards for a moment. ] If anything was wrong with the reactor JARVIS would have said so by now. [ JARVIS provides his assent, and her gaze drifts back to his eyes, still watching, searching for any visible signs. ]
We can sit. [ She tugs another chair up so she can sit down, one leg pressed against his. ] Everything's going to be fine.
ty
Technically, he was asking if anything in the workplace was broken, and then if he was personally bleeding - sort of in that order but he fucked up the antecedents and shit. He accepts the answer anyway; if anything in the room is broken, it'll just serve as a project to work on later. And he'll probably need one. ]
No, the reactor - reactor's fine. [ He can tell that part. The heart, mostly. The brain, not so much, but he can tell when the reactor isn't working right. Look at those priorities, that learning curve. He's more familiar with the technology he's put in his body than the body he's had for forty-plus years.
He's a little more lucid right now than he was before, at least. So there's that. Actually he's kind of surprised he's in a chair, apparently. He was pretty sure he was sitting on the floor. ] Where'd you go? [ And that's not accusing at all, like it could sound without the intonation he gives it. Nothing but pure curiosity, taking his mind off of things in the moment, while his body catches up with the process. ]
<3<3
You can't fix people. You can only love them, and offer them as much help towards fixing themselves as you can. It was a hard lesson to learn years ago, and it's a hard one to have to remember now, but she can still offer as much of herself as she can and hope it will be enough to help. ]
It is. [ She covers his hands with hers lightly, leans towards him as she answers his question. ] I was running low on a few clothing things so I went shopping for a little bit and picked up some more. Underwear, t-shirts, that sort of thing. Basics. What were you building, while I was gone? [ On the off chance he can answer and it'll help the calming process. ]
no subject
There's not a whole lot of response to her touches right now, but his hands twist towards hers fractionally, at least. He closes his eyes for a few long moments, consciously working on continuing to have breathing that's as even as possible, and just letting her words wash over him in the meantime. Words are good, talking is good. People don't talk to him at his worst moments, at all the times he's been the most frightened of things, and he wonders occasionally if it isn't partially that circumstance that makes them so.
It takes a little while longer to reply than it would normally, but that in itself doesn't seem that unusual right now. ] High altitude suit. More well pressurized, functional with thinner atmospheres, more resistant to higher Gs. [ There's certainly not an obvious reason he'd be working on things that lead to potentially working better in space, or closer to it. Definitely not. ]
no subject
Fixing, maybe not, but - improving it, hopefully. At least somewhat. She takes that small twist of his hands and slides hers into his, twines their fingers and holds on. She'll keep talking forever if it's going to keep having a calming effect on him. ]
Yeah? Sounds like a good project. It must be hard to keep the mobility and make it resistant enough. [ But yeah, that's not hard to guess why he's making a suit that can withstand space, not with what she knows from past incidents about how he feels about space. She changes the subject and keeps going. Later, maybe, once he's recovered more, she'll bring that up again. But not until then, because she thinks it would be almost useless to bring it up now. ] Have you eaten yet today?
no subject
He did like her talking though. Something to focus on without too much thinking over his own. Not that the thinking doesn't help either, because it does, it helps him organize his thoughts.
There's a sort ot stiff-shouldered shrug. ] Difficult but not impossible. Discovered an alloy that would work for it a bit better. [ Waiting until later's probably a fantastic idea in general though.
With that question it's hard to tell if he looks like he's actually trying to figure it out or just wasn't expecting it. It turns out as a few moments pass and the look changes a bit, that he's trying to remember. He's fairly certain he ate yesterday, and she's going to try and make him eat if he says the wrong thing, but he just... After a while he just sort of shrugs disinterestedly. ]
no subject
She makes a noncommittal noise to his answer about the alloy, because more and more she's quite convinced that that's a subject she doesn't want to touch until whatever point he's back in a much more coherent and normal state of mind, one in which reminders of what's been bothering him are less likely to start something all over again. So she moves on, considers how he responds to the question about food, and then starts talking. ]
Maybe a smoothie or something would be a good idea later, once you're feeling better. [ But she tries to make it clear in her tone of voice that it's nothing more than a suggestion, something she thinks would be a good idea but she's not going to push. ] I mean, there's only a 50% chance of it being uncontaminated but Dummy would probably welcome the chance to try, he's been in time out a lot lately. [ Nothing that requires an answer if he doesn't want to give one, just easy pauses if he wants to interject before she keeps onwards. ] I think maybe you should get cleaned up first, though - wipe down and change clothes. [ Not shower. Maybe a bath, maybe, but not somewhere tight and enclosed and full of water. That she knows more than enough to know is a very bad plan. ]
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The smoothie suggestion seems to be entertained at first, but then he is quickly turned off the idea. His stomach twists with the suggestion, and he decides that the whole not eating idea has been his best one in a long time. Eyes shut again, he just shakes his head once, and then fairly calmly replies. ] Yeah, you know, maybe later, we can do that. Has he? [ Been in time out a lot? Tony feels like that's his fault. Bad parenting. ] A little later. [ And a little louder, since he's been quiet. ] Dummy, buddy, in an hour. Best of three, okay?
[ With the last suggestion though, he does open his eyes again and glance down at himself, apparently surprised by the lack of clothing and the oil. Or he's just still kind of out of it. One of the two. ] Yeah, okay.
no subject
To her it feels like a lot, but who knows how the two of them are really getting along at any given moment. Always well enough, despite how much insistence that Dum-E is about to be turned into a wine rack happens. Mostly right now she's just throwing out things to add into the conversation, give her more reason to keep talking because she doesn't want to put him on the spot anymore, just let him sit and listen and calm down. ] I'm sure he'll be thrilled.
[ Maybe a little of both, even. He was barely breathing what seems like far too little time ago, but it does seem like getting out of this space for at least a little bit could be a good idea. She rests a hand on his knee, leans forward a little. ] Do you think you can move with me, or do you want to sit still for a little longer? We can do either one.
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He considers that for all of a couple seconds before he nods a little. ] Yeah, yeah, I can move. It'll be fine. Totally. Let's go to another room.
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And okay, that agreement was a little fast for her to actually put a great deal of faith in it, but after a moment of evaluation she stands up and holds out both of her hands to him. ] Then let's head upstairs. I think there's probably a little bit more natural light up there, too.
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[ Oh, right, he agreed to that. Like, two seconds ago. What was he thinking. But okay, okay. She stands up, and he already wants to follow her, so the hands and the standing, that goes fairly smoothly. He's a little shaky on his feet, his thighs are full of adrenalin that hasn't gone anywhere, been used for anything, so he's a little wobbly and jittery and it's all to do with the adrenaline. Nothing else, no sir. ] Okay. Ready. [ She's clearly picking where they're going, and he's fine just so long as she doesn't walk too fast and doesn't let go of his hand. ]
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[ She stays still for a long moment after he first stands up, moves close enough that she can take most of his weight easily should he need her to, waiting for him to get his balance and center of movement under him. For the moment she won't comment on it, but it's definitely on the list of things that she's going to have to talk to him about because this - this is not improving. ] We'll take the elevator. [ Because that seems like the best idea, here. nd there's no way she's going to let go of his hand, her grip quite firm. Nor is she planning on walking at more than a pretty slow amble, moving backwards so that she can stay watching him. ] Can you drink some water, or would that be too much?
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[ He considers the water question with no small amount of pause. Tries not to make a face. ] I probably need it but I don't know. It might be. Might be just what I'm craving. We can try it.
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She nods, considers. ] Then we'll get some water and just sit down for a little bit.
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Yeah, boring. [ She's doing a good job. He's leaning on her a little more as they keep moving, as well as a little more whenever water is mentioned. ] Yeah okay. Sounds like a plan. Maybe a bottle? From the fridge. Not a cup. Dunno why. Just a thought.
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She presses the button for the second floor, by the kitchen, and glances over at him, nods. ] Or juice. Juice boxes are always amazing. [ She can guess what it is he's been thinking about, if he's avoiding open water, but that's not due to be brought up yet. Not quite. He needs to be settled first. ] How was your morning?
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We have juice boxes? I'd -- really go for a juice box. Yeah.
[ Thinking back over things, skipping over the obvious. ]
Fine. How was yours?
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