[Maybe she wants to believe it badly enough that he does sound convincing. Alien DNA? Okay, that’s a little wild, and she’s blinking up at him in surprise for the barest moment as his reassurances really sink in. It explains the powers, and… well, if the only known quantity was how this infection affects regular ol’ humans, he could be telling the truth, for all they know.
But mostly she knows that she just doesn’t want to have to believe the alternative. So she’ll stake that on his (somewhat shaky) confidence in the matter, and convince herself that perhaps he’s uniquely suited to really make it through all of this in once piece. Another steadying breath and then she nods, reassured at least a little bit by the matching squeeze of her hand in his.
The matter of what to do about her missing arm is one she’s been trying not to think so hard about. Not deliberately, not really, it’s just that she’s not so sure her options in that regard are going to be super great, considering where (when?) she plans on going once she gets back home. Make up some feasible excuse about an accident, get her job done, and just learn to live with it. Kinda just tossed into the pile of “things she can’t distract herself with by worrying over.” (It’s a stupidly big additon, and she knows it.)
But then—hadn’t the two of them joked around about the idea of interdimensional visits, once this was all over? Maybe he’s onto something.]
And here I was, thinking my budding baseball career had already come to an end. [The jest doesn’t quite have the usual light-hearted push behind it, but she leans over to bump her shoulder against his to scramble for at least a little of it.] If we get my arm fixed up, that means you gotta fight off the world’s gnarliest flu, alright? You promised you’d come cheer me on at a game and all…
[It feels like such delusional wishful thinking, but what else do they have? She has to hold onto it, even if all it does is renew that ache in her chest again.]
no subject
But mostly she knows that she just doesn’t want to have to believe the alternative. So she’ll stake that on his (somewhat shaky) confidence in the matter, and convince herself that perhaps he’s uniquely suited to really make it through all of this in once piece. Another steadying breath and then she nods, reassured at least a little bit by the matching squeeze of her hand in his.
The matter of what to do about her missing arm is one she’s been trying not to think so hard about. Not deliberately, not really, it’s just that she’s not so sure her options in that regard are going to be super great, considering where (when?) she plans on going once she gets back home. Make up some feasible excuse about an accident, get her job done, and just learn to live with it. Kinda just tossed into the pile of “things she can’t distract herself with by worrying over.” (It’s a stupidly big additon, and she knows it.)
But then—hadn’t the two of them joked around about the idea of interdimensional visits, once this was all over? Maybe he’s onto something.]
And here I was, thinking my budding baseball career had already come to an end. [The jest doesn’t quite have the usual light-hearted push behind it, but she leans over to bump her shoulder against his to scramble for at least a little of it.] If we get my arm fixed up, that means you gotta fight off the world’s gnarliest flu, alright? You promised you’d come cheer me on at a game and all…
[It feels like such delusional wishful thinking, but what else do they have? She has to hold onto it, even if all it does is renew that ache in her chest again.]