[ It's the please that nearly breaks her. Everything in her rational mind is telling her this is a bad idea. Jim should be with his brother, he could help Sam feel more settled with stepping back into normal life, something she knows every single person rescued today will struggle with in the months ahead. And yet, even with all that rational thought, her body reacts to his touch, leaning her weight just slightly back to press into his hand and strengthen that small connection.
This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. But that please... The way he'd stayed close while still letting her support herself... That look in his eyes. Try as she might, she can't bring herself to turn him away. ]
Alright. [ Permission granted, she takes a deep breath and turns to move down the hall to the turbolift. Her steps are slower now, though whether it's from the exhaustion or the hope he'll keep his hand on her back, she couldn't say for certain.
She doesn't speak while they walk, her only words in the turbolift to dictate where to go, and when they finally reach her quarters, she doesn't prevent him from following her inside. But when the door closes behind them and she turns to properly address him again, her gaze catches on the full-length mirror she used before every shift to check her uniform. The person staring back at her isn't one she recognizes. The torn combat uniform. The braids that anything but smooth and orderly. The empty look in her eyes. She can't turn away, and she can feel things begin to break inside of her. ]
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This is a bad idea. A very bad idea. But that please... The way he'd stayed close while still letting her support herself... That look in his eyes. Try as she might, she can't bring herself to turn him away. ]
Alright. [ Permission granted, she takes a deep breath and turns to move down the hall to the turbolift. Her steps are slower now, though whether it's from the exhaustion or the hope he'll keep his hand on her back, she couldn't say for certain.
She doesn't speak while they walk, her only words in the turbolift to dictate where to go, and when they finally reach her quarters, she doesn't prevent him from following her inside. But when the door closes behind them and she turns to properly address him again, her gaze catches on the full-length mirror she used before every shift to check her uniform. The person staring back at her isn't one she recognizes. The torn combat uniform. The braids that anything but smooth and orderly. The empty look in her eyes. She can't turn away, and she can feel things begin to break inside of her. ]