[ debriefing had been exactly as much fun as emma anticipated it to be (read: 'not at all'). some of that had been due to the fact that while her emotions are a roiling pit of confusion, she's constantly thinking about faraday.
what had happened. what could have happened. the fact that she'd let him down. that stings especially, because she knows, given their track record together, that if she'd been covering him like she ought to, the way she owes to him as his partner, he'd never have taken that bullet. he'd have been in that debriefing with her, blithe, sarcastic comments and all.
instead, she's been waiting at the hospital since chisolm gave her the all-clear to leave. he'd suggested she get some sleep, maybe consider some counseling (because emma may not be public about her history with bogue, but sam knows it all, from top to bottom; he gives her that kind of solemn, knowing look he's perfected when she shrugs him off, and a quiet, "call me, if anything comes up.").
but emma being emma, she doesn't want to talk about it — to sam, or a shrink.
she stops off at home to change, and now? she's been going from waiting room to waiting room, constantly bouncing around with little to no information about faraday's condition. concern has been a heavy rock in the pit of her stomach, guilt and anger still warring for dominance the entire time, but when a nurse finally comes out, calls her forward to talk to her about faraday, it's relief that wins over. she's even allowed into faraday's room, to sit beside him while she sleeps, and emma doesn't dare leave him longer than it takes to run off for a cup of coffee (which there still are a few empties sitting on the small table beside her chair).
it's his voice that actually wakes her, and her eyes immediately snap open, painfully alert, like she's expecting something other than—
—just faraday. there in his hospital bed, looking groggy and hazy-eyed, but looking at her all the same. ]
...Joshua.
[ it's a name she rarely (nearly never) uses, but the consolation of seeing him awake is enough to shake it out of her. soft as anything, without the same level of fury she'd carried with her the night before.
(she's still angry, but far less so at faraday; it's belied by concern, by a need to see him recover.) ]
How're you feelin'?
[ a stupid question, maybe, but hopefully the drugs are doing their job. ]
no subject
what had happened. what could have happened. the fact that she'd let him down. that stings especially, because she knows, given their track record together, that if she'd been covering him like she ought to, the way she owes to him as his partner, he'd never have taken that bullet. he'd have been in that debriefing with her, blithe, sarcastic comments and all.
instead, she's been waiting at the hospital since chisolm gave her the all-clear to leave. he'd suggested she get some sleep, maybe consider some counseling (because emma may not be public about her history with bogue, but sam knows it all, from top to bottom; he gives her that kind of solemn, knowing look he's perfected when she shrugs him off, and a quiet, "call me, if anything comes up.").
but emma being emma, she doesn't want to talk about it — to sam, or a shrink.
she stops off at home to change, and now? she's been going from waiting room to waiting room, constantly bouncing around with little to no information about faraday's condition. concern has been a heavy rock in the pit of her stomach, guilt and anger still warring for dominance the entire time, but when a nurse finally comes out, calls her forward to talk to her about faraday, it's relief that wins over. she's even allowed into faraday's room, to sit beside him while she sleeps, and emma doesn't dare leave him longer than it takes to run off for a cup of coffee (which there still are a few empties sitting on the small table beside her chair).
it's his voice that actually wakes her, and her eyes immediately snap open, painfully alert, like she's expecting something other than—
—just faraday. there in his hospital bed, looking groggy and hazy-eyed, but looking at her all the same. ]
...Joshua.
[ it's a name she rarely (nearly never) uses, but the consolation of seeing him awake is enough to shake it out of her. soft as anything, without the same level of fury she'd carried with her the night before.
(she's still angry, but far less so at faraday; it's belied by concern, by a need to see him recover.) ]
How're you feelin'?
[ a stupid question, maybe, but hopefully the drugs are doing their job. ]