ikissdhimbck | OOM: Room #100 - drinking aftermath (part 2)

It's been a long night for the outlaw and a certain small-town Sheriff, as well.

Sometime after the break of day, footsteps quietly make their way down the hall to room 100. Doc hasn't slept much at all, but he doesn't look tired - and he doesn't knock.

(The knock of knuckles against a doorframe is murder on the skull of someone with a killer hangover, so he quietly calls Esfir's name.)

He has a book tucked under his arm, as he waits.

Esfir is a soldier. This means that she can a) sleep anywhere and b) wake up easily when called for. Bomb blasts might not do it if she accepts them as normal, but the sound of her name will always wake her up.

Rolling out of bed (and tucking the blankets back around Kate), the toussle-haired pilot walks over to the door and opens it. A moment later, she lets the door swing open.

"I was gonna bring coffee, but I ain't sure if you drink it or not."

He nods his thanks as he steps into the room. His first concern is to approach the bed, and ensure that Kate is indeed, still breathing - even if he knows Esfir would have informed him if that was not the case.

"I'd say it was the gift of God, if I wasn't an atheist." Then her mouth curves into a cynical expression as she walks over to the little desk to start writing a note.

"She's alive," she says then, voice just as soft as his. "Be sick as a dog, but alive. "

He looks heavenward (though wonders if Heaven is indeed still 'up' in a place like this) and closes his eyes, a silent prayer of thanks being run through his mind before he glances over at Esfir at the desk.

"I ain't an atheist, and I'd have t'agree with you, so I'll remember that for later."

Katyushka,

I stayed during the night, Doc came in at dawn to take over. I need to talk to you, but that will wait until at least this evening when we've both somewhat recovered.

Play nice. As much as your hangover allows, anyway.

love,
Fira

"It makes life simpler. No god, no hell, no sin, just us." She signs the note, rips the page out of her book, folds it over, and leaves it on the desk. "This is to her. I'm...going to go and sleep, but I'll be back later. I need to talk to her."

Beat.

"Try not to start screaming at each other. It doesn't help." She's smiling as she says that.

Well.

A little, anyway.

Doc allows the barest hint of a smile to cover his features.

"I promise, there ain't gonna be any screamin'."

He nods his thanks once again, and then moves to place his book on the empty space on the bed - not moving to sit on it, of course - and then heads for the bathroom to fetch some water and a damp cloth.

Things he'll need, he's sure, once Kate wakes up.

"Good."

Or else Esfir is going to come back and kick heads. For now, though, she just leaves.

Once she's gone, and he's fetched that water and cloth, he returns to the bed.

His boots are carefully toed off on the far side, and he slowly sits on the edge. Just watching her, for now.

Thinking about what Bill told him, last night.

Thinking about how to fix this whole mess, if he can.

Just thinking.

Exhausted as she is, she doesn't stir when he lowers himself onto the mattress. In fact, it isn't until the sun rises to just that perfect height that it comes streaming in through the windows, hitting the bed (and, consequently, Kate's face), that she finally does move.

She moans, turning her head to bury her face in her pillow.

It's quiet for a few moments.

And then, with a sudden jerk, she gets to hands and knees and reaches for the bucket again.

Doc's there to keep her hair out of the way as she leans over the bucket, even though there isn't really anything in her system to get rid of, at point.

As soon as she stops, he'll get up and deal with the light problem.

She coughs a few times, taking a couple minutes to decide whether or not she is finished.

This has to be the last time. There's nothing left to expel.

Trembling a little, she sets the bucket down and rests her head against her arm. Tears run from her eyes onto her skin.

It'll be another minute before she realizes Doc is there with her.

He gently rests a hand on her back, rubbing at her spine, trying to soothe her as she trembles.

"S'alright, darlin', at least it will be in awhile. You're alright."

Blood is throbbing through her ears, and she doesn't dare open her eyes; she can already almost see the pulse in her vision.

(If she wasn't so attached to it, she might try to take her head off herself.)

"Doc?"

"Yes," he murmurs, voice a low rumble mixed in the middle of that rushing pulse. Calm within a storm. "Esfir stayed the night with you, and m'gonna be here awhile today, 'long as you need me."

His hand slowly continues to trace the path of her spine.

She should try for some water - but first, calm her heart.

"What--?"

She shifts only slightly, but doesn't lift her head. Even the slightest movements make her feel utterly sick.

"What're y'doin' 'ere?"

"Last night, y'had a bit much t'drink, and Esfir and I got you up to your room. She helped git you into bed. I'm here 'cause y'got a hell of a hangover and y'told me not t'go."

It's obvious she won't remember much, after that much to drink.

She doesn't remember a thing -- least of all, Doc being back.

I asked him to stay?

She groans.

"Don't... 'member."

"Don't matter at the moment, gotta make sure y'aint dehydrated, first. I got y'some water t'try and sip at, if you can."

And there's the hangover helper from Bar, still over on the table.

And still glowing.

Another groan -- this one louder -- to indicate her disagreement.

She won't be drinking anything ever again, thank you.

"You have to drink water," he says.

A beat.

"It'll help your headache go away."

She goes quiet.

And still.

But judging by the erratic pace of her breathing, she's not asleep. She simply isn't arguing.

(Which is as good an answer as he's going to get, right now.)

"Kate."

He doesn't use her full name.

Yet.

"Just a couple sips."

She stays in stoic silence a few moments longer.

But finally, put-off and reluctant to move, she stirs again -- slowly. Moaning, she slips her elbows underneath her body, and pushes herself up onto one hip.

Her head swims.

"Y'can lean on me," he murmurs, reaching to steady her while he carefully fetches the glass of water.

(Bar had left several straws in the bathroom, overnight - the one in Kate's glass is a dark purple.)

He'll hold the glass, too.

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