(closed) god, it’s been a hell of a week

[scholiast]

who: lucretia + others (hmu if you'd like a starter!)
what: catch all for a couple things + canon update time :)
when: end of aug start of sep
where: here there everywhere
warnings: will be updated if they occur

Comments

for dancingmd ♡ (action)

[scholiast]

(In hindsight, Lucretia should have realised that this was coming. With everything that's been going on lately, it had, somewhat ironically, slipped her mind– but she wishes in hindsight, that she might have remembered to at least mention this to Beverly, even if only off-handedly.

But she doesn't, and as it stands, she wakes without warning at three in the morning on her second night at Beverly's apartment. The nightmare itself is old hat: the usual, crushing loneliness of cycle sixty-five that never fails to leave her gasping, hands shaking wildly as she forces herself to sit upright, legs loosely crossed. She presses her cold fingertips to the backs of her eyelids and hunches over herself, and her breath hitches as she tries very hard not to cry because she knows that it's only the stress of everything dragging on her that has dredged up this old, unwanted memory again.

A quick glance to the side confirms Beverly is lying there beside her in bed. She's right there, it's fine. It's fine. She isn't alone.

Lucretia uncurls a little, grips her hands tight to try and force a little extra calm, but she's still full of dread and shaking, eyes darting about the room as she considers what to do. She would get up and take herself into the kitchen to keep from waking Beverly, except she feels stuck in place, forced into waiting for the panic to release its stranglehold on her.

It always does, eventually.)

[dancingmd]

(The thing is, Beverly is a very light sleeper. It comes with the territory of being a Starfleet doctor: she might be needed at a moment's notice at any time. On top of that, she's not quite used to sharing a bed with anyone yet, so when Lucretia sits up, Beverly begins to stir. Rolling over towards her, she murmurs Lucretia's name, confusion and concern mixing together.)

What's wrong?

[scholiast]

Nothing, (Lucretia manages, voice quiet but tight. When Beverly rolls over to face her, she ducks her head a little, trying to hide the expression on her face. It's not that she feels like she has to hide this; more that she's reluctant to drag Beverly into it all, especially after having woken her up in the middle of the night.)

Just a nightmare, (she ammends, and sighs shakily. Her chest hurts.) I'm fine.

[dancingmd]

(No you're not, Beverly thinks, though she doesn't say it. Instead, she slides up to sit with her knees tucked to her chest. Then, after a moment, she gently leans over, pressing her shoulder against Lucretia's.)

Talk to me.

[scholiast]

It's– (she has to stop, give herself a little moment to breathe before she continues. It helps, when Beverly leans against her. The touch, though simple, is anchoring.)

I... uh, during my mission, I had– there was an accident, and the others died. Right at the start, I mean and I was alone for– for all of it. Cycle sixty-five. (Her voice is even enough, but her hands are still shaking, betraying her false calm.)

It was thirty... thirty-five years ago and I still– (sigh.) It's hard.

[dancingmd]

Oh, Lucretia...

(She rests her head against Lucretia's and takes hold of her hand. She lived out one of Beverly's worst fears. At least when Beverly was alone in that collapsing universe, there wasn't time to dwell, she had to focus on surviving, and it hardly lasted a full cycle.)

I'm so sorry.

[scholiast]

(Beverly's quiet kindness is a little overwhelming, but only because her nerves are still shot– even so, Lucretia has to surreptitiously wipe a couple tears away with her free hand.)

Thank you. (At least it's easy to concentrate on the warm weight of Beverly's hand in hers; her breathing is already starting to level out.)

[dancingmd]

(It's not so surreptitious, when they are so close to each other, but Beverly won't call attention to it. No wonder Lucretia didn't want to be alone after leaving Taako's.)

Do these dreams happen often?

[scholiast]

Yes. Less than they used to, but they always flare up whenever I'm stressed.

(Having a year's worth of bad memories makes for substantial nightmare material, unfortunately.)

[dancingmd]

I used to have them, after Jack... Perhaps it might help if you talk to a therapist about it? I know it helped me and Wesley both to go to a grief counselor.

[scholiast]

A therapist?

(She's never thought of that before– but, then again, during the stolen century it hadn't been possible to seek this kind of help, nor much easier after it. Too busy. But here she has a lot of time on her hands, and the means.

She's silent for a long moment before she speaks again.)

I... I don't know. I'll think about it.

[dancingmd]

Please do. I know it can be a bit... scary to think about but I really do think it will help.

But right now, what do you need? I'll stay up with you as long as you want.

[scholiast]

Okay.

(She takes her hand back from Beverly so she can give her eyes a final wipe, before running both hands through her hair with a sigh. Now that she's starting to calm down she just feels quiet, pensive.)

Oh, I'm– I'm not going to go back to sleep. (If she tried she'd only wake herself up again in another hour or so. The forced alertness always accompanies the nightmares, takes her back to a time where she was constantly, painfully aware of the people chasing her, hunting her down.)

You should, though. I'll just– get up, do some work.

[dancingmd]

(Beverly lifts her head and with a knitted brow, considers Lucretia before shaking her head.)

I won't be able to sleep if you can't.

[scholiast]

(Oh.

Lucretia gives her a tired smile.)

If you want to stay up all night too I suppose I can't stop you. I promise that I'm fine. It's just– if I try to sleep I'll probably have more nightmares, so.

[dancingmd]

I understand. I just don't want you to be alone.

[scholiast]

I... (Lucretia's expression turns stricken; for a moment, she's concerned she might cry again, but manages to hold it back after a few deep, even breaths.)

I don't really want to be alone, either.

[dancingmd]

(No, no, no, she sees that expression and worries for a moment that she said the wrong thing. The desire to fix this, to make it better is intense, though she knows there's no easy solution.

Instead, she settles on a hug.)

You won't be.

[scholiast]

(On the contrary, Beverly absolutely said the right thing. Lucretia isn't used to talking about this: she had shoved it all down after the fact and left it to simmer away in the back of her mind, because it was easier. She's belatedly aware that she's paying for that negligence now.

A hug is greatly appreciated; Lucretia sinks into her embrace, and links her arms gently around Beverly's waist with a sigh.)

Thank you. I know this is a lot, but– it really helps.

[dancingmd]

(Beverly will hold her for as long as she needs, rubbing her back gently.)

It's what friends are for.

[scholiast]

Yeah.

(This is something that she needs to remind herself of, instead of assuming she's only burdening people by talking to them about what happened. She lets Beverly hold her for a little bit longer, then pulls away, smiling quickly, embarrassed as she wipes her eyes again.)

[dancingmd]

(She smiles back, then reaches over to her bedside table for a tissue, which she hands to Lucretia.)

Here.

[scholiast]

(Lucretia exhales in a big rush as she takes it gratefully.)

Okay, I think I'm done. (Crying, that is.) I'm gonna get up.

[dancingmd]

Okay. Do you need me to get you anything?

[scholiast]

I'm good, I know where the kettle is.

Will you go back to sleep if I promise to wake you up if I need anything?