Room 238, Monday evening

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Aeryn gets back to the room after Flight Club, going straight for a bottle of water and the aspirin. She almost trips over Bertram on her way to the kitchen, and he gives her a little warning beep.

"Shh," she says. "No beeping."

Comments

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Aeryn?" John calls loudly when he slams the door shut. "You here?"

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Aeryn looks down at Bertram and says, "Go tell him to be quiet, will you?"

She just waves to John in response, hoping he gets that hint.

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"What's wrong?" he calls, kicking off his shoes to bang against the wall.

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"My head doesn't appreciate the noise," she tells him. If she ever experiences another hangover again, she might just stay in 209 for that.

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"Headache?" John asks, coming into the kitchen and flipping off the lights.

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She nods and says, "Not terrible, but persistent."

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"Go lay down," he says quietly. "I get you some stuff."

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"I'm okay," she insists, as it's probably expected of her by this point.

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"Go lay down," he says again. "I'll get some stuff for you."

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Aeryn sighs like it's a chore, but heads over to the bed to lay down.

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He smiles and grabs water, a cold, wet compress and aspirin. Then, he comes back over and switches off the lights.

He puts the cold compress on her head.

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"It isn't that bad," she assures him. "I think it's just stress."

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"Relax anyway," he says and lights a few candles around the bed.

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He's just surprising her the last few days. She watches him quietly, not asking.

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He offers her the aspirin and the water. "Take two."

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She sits up, taking the aspirin obediently. "Thank you."

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"Welcome," he says, adjusting the compress on her head and laying down beside her, just watching.

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She just looks back a him, finally saying, "What?"

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"Nothing," he says. "I'm just here if you need me. Relax."

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"I'm relaxing," she says, shifting a little to make herself more comfortable.

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"I know," he says and puts his hand just above the compress.

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Aeryn just smiles a little at him, kind of watching him back.

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"Headaches kinda suck," he tells her.

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"A little," she agrees, and for no reason, reaches for his hand.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

He smiles and lets her take his hand.