[ When she doesn't shrug him off or twist away, he keeps his hand where it is, reminding himself through the feel of her warmth that she's here, that she's alive. MIA, but not dead. Recovered. They got them out. Both of them--all of them, but also the two that matter most to one particular almost first officer.
He doesn't press her to talk, just walks beside her, supporting what he can as he trails her to her quarters, ushers her through the door.
Jim's expecting her to try and chase him out again once the door is shut. He's already working up an argument in his head, trying to anticipate her arguments and his counters, five steps ahead--it's the only reason he can give for why he doesn't realize, at first, that something's wrong. That's she's spinning.
When she doesn't say anything the half-formed counter dies on his lips and he looks at her, really looks at her and his exhale comes out a soft curse. Broad hands come up to settle against her; one at her hip, one at her neck, framing her as much as he can as he tries to ground her back here, back on the ship, back with him ]
La'an [ He's Jim, name James, and he doesn't use her name all that often, preferring to use her rank as endearment, but he uses it now, trying to drag her out of the place she's sliding in her head. He's been there--not this time, not like this, but he's seen things too--he knows the sort of horrors that can wait in the mind. ] Hey, hey-- Look at me, okay? Look at me.
[ The hand on her neck slides down, grips her wrist and draws it up, pressing it over the left side of his chest, his own hand cupping over it and pushing down, hoping she'll be able to feel his heartbeat through the fabric ] You're okay. La'an, you're okay--
no subject
He doesn't press her to talk, just walks beside her, supporting what he can as he trails her to her quarters, ushers her through the door.
Jim's expecting her to try and chase him out again once the door is shut. He's already working up an argument in his head, trying to anticipate her arguments and his counters, five steps ahead--it's the only reason he can give for why he doesn't realize, at first, that something's wrong. That's she's spinning.
When she doesn't say anything the half-formed counter dies on his lips and he looks at her, really looks at her and his exhale comes out a soft curse. Broad hands come up to settle against her; one at her hip, one at her neck, framing her as much as he can as he tries to ground her back here, back on the ship, back with him ]
La'an [ He's Jim, name James, and he doesn't use her name all that often, preferring to use her rank as endearment, but he uses it now, trying to drag her out of the place she's sliding in her head. He's been there--not this time, not like this, but he's seen things too--he knows the sort of horrors that can wait in the mind. ] Hey, hey-- Look at me, okay? Look at me.
[ The hand on her neck slides down, grips her wrist and draws it up, pressing it over the left side of his chest, his own hand cupping over it and pushing down, hoping she'll be able to feel his heartbeat through the fabric ] You're okay. La'an, you're okay--