( nursed back to health shipping meme. )

[lumeria]

Nursed Back to Health shipping meme Comment with your character, preferences, preferred role, and any information you'd like to include. Your character has either been injured/sick and had to be taken in (possibly against their will) or has been the one to help somebody like the former. Through the mending process, the two characters in a thread have fallen in love - or at least grown closer and more affectionate. Reply to others. Thread.

Comments

[cadeuces]

Maybe you were preoccupied.

[ There were no missions; she would have heard about that. But "preoccupied" is the easier way to say "gauging the others", or perhaps that he simply didn't feel like being social. Knowing she's sick, however, made for a change in that. She takes her time with the broth if only to savor the heat spreading through her and trying to extend that feeling, as well as not wishing to upset her stomach.

Angela's never minded his eyes on her, especially not when he watched her so closely. He was so seldomly scrutinizing in it; just observant. ]

The soup is a start. I needed a little more in my stomach than water.

[ We're All Doctors, Now. ]

[mylawn]

Not too preoccupied.

[Now he's preoccupied, but the preoccupation is entirely with her.]

What else can I get you?

[Sure, he's not formally medically trained, but you don't last on the battlefield as long as he has without some knowledge. There's plenty he can do, and he takes directions well. He imagines that's why she called him here in the first place.]

[cadeuces]

[ Angela just shakes her head, a ponderously slow movement before she's back to sipping at the broth hot in her hands and moving onto the bit of bread on the side to break into little chunks between slender fingers to nibble on. ]

I have more aspirin set aside; the food is most important. [ And then her head tips heavily onto her shoulder, smiling. ] And the company. You look comfortable.

[ 'Like you aren't moving any time soon', that seems to say. It takes her an extended moment to debate how bold she can be as she dips a hunk of bread in her broth, bringing it to her lips for a second before actually putting it in her mouth. ]

[mylawn]

[Oh. Yes. Well, he is getting comfortable, mostly because he doesn’t plan on leaving until either he feels okay about doing that or she kicks him out. He’s pretty sure she’s not going to kick him out.]

I’ve sat in worse chairs.

[He shifts a little out of reflex, leaning forward and smoothing out sheets with his hand, fingertips brushing her leg under the covers. Jack seems to pick up what’s implied, at any rate.]

I can go if you want.

[cadeuces]

[ She's definitely not going to kick him out; quite the contrary. If he's already here, he's forfeiting his right to immunity and she may just be selfish for a change and press upon that. It doesn't take long for her to reach the end of her little piece of bread and to empty the bowl of broth even taking it slow, and her smile comes sluggishly but just as warm as ever when he's quipping back.

Then he shifts in his chair and his hands are smoothing the bedding down, feeling his fingertips brush along her leg as she sets the empty bowl back on the tray and works out of her lab coat to set aside, slowly shifting back onto her side to face him as well as closer, inconspicuously making room behind her.

Jack's presence was always calming to her; it spoke to her of the old days, of impromptu doctor's visits when he was stressed and urging him to take up residence on the couch in her office or one of the cots here in the medical bay, of sharing coffee and relishing each other's quiet company when the rest of the base was hectic. Just finding a moment to unwind with a friend, slowly adding fibers to the rope bridge between them, strengthening it over time. She doesn't want to relinquish him so easily when she isn't feeling well. ]

Mm-mmm, you're already here. I'd like it if you stayed.

[ And there's an inviting little pat to the back of her thigh, welcoming him to lie down with her. Away from her face so she isn't tempting fate and breathing on him, and so they'd both actually fit on the cots. ]

[mylawn]

Then I can stay.

[Jack isn't at all concerned with catching what she has--part of shaping him into the perfect soldier means that not only is he resistant to all substances from alcohol to caffeine sedatives to most poisons, it's also very, very difficult to get him sick. Any concern she has in that department is unwarranted, and he knows she's more than aware of the ins and outs of his enhancements.

He takes the bowl from her when she's finished, and, perhaps uncharacteristically, takes the hint when she shifts on the cot and gestures for him to join her. It'll be a tight squeeze, but it's nothing they haven't done before. Jack shifts easily from chair to mattress, sidling up next to her and fitting his body to hers as he lays down. His arm rests gently over hers, idly stroking it with his fingertips.]

Not gonna be too warm for you?

[cadeuces]

Danke.

[ It's quiet and soft, but still a thank you nonetheless. Angela worries even knowing his system because it may be very, very difficult, but it wasn't impossible and his body's built up no defenses against illness from previous encounters— he's gone three decades and change largely without so much as a sniffle.

Yet the second he moves to climb on the bed with her, she can't quite bring herself to think about it any longer, cot creaking with his weight and fitting right up behind her to be greeted with a brief shiver, his warmth near-immediate as she leans back against him to soak it up. Shoulder back against shoulder, smiling as her fingers splay against the mattress and his arm covers hers, eyes closing to the touch.

It is a little uncharacteristic, perhaps, but she appreciates his willingness to keep her company all the same. And Jack has always been warm. ]

Not at all; you're perfectly comfortable.

[ The blankets are clutched up against her a little closer, drawing his arm tighter about her where it lays atop her own, relaxing immediately to his presence. Just like this, she thinks, she can catch some sleep. ]

[mylawn]

[Immune systems are the furthest thing from his mind, and though she's feverish, if she says that this is comfortable, then he'll believe her. Jack has to shift a little, but after a moment they're both settled into the new position. It's hard not to fidget a little, but he concentrates on her breathing and comes to rest soon enough.]

When's the last time you let someone take care of you?

[They're similar in that regard. Always giving everything they have to something or someone else, never stopping to let themselves be cared for in return.]

[cadeuces]

[ The thing with fevers is they're often accompanied by chills and you had to burn them out, and she's been in the throes of chills for a while now. The hot broth was a balm, but his heat even moreso— something she can press back into that won't leave her nauseous, something she won't get her fill of and be unable to further reap the benefits.

He can fidget. She wouldn't expect him to stay as long as she'd be in the bed because that could likely span a couple days, but once she fell asleep he was free to leave; an unspoken understanding, perhaps, but Jack would do what he wished regardless. If he were uncomfortable or someone showed up, he would likely leave and she knows that as well. Nothing he could do would deter her from enjoying his presence while she has it. It is as simple as that. ]

Hmmm... Medical school? If you fell ill you weren't allowed to rest in your room; you became a class project. Especially for the nursing students. Hands-on experience and you were doted on by no less than ten people at a time, and you were excused from classwork and even received credit for it.

[ Which also means it was about two decades back, just as he'd imagined. The tired amusement in her tone is evident, and a return question isn't even broached. She's his doctor; she knows the answer. Instead: ]

Do you think it suits you? I'm sure I could find a few tasks for you around the infirmary. "Nurse: 76". You'd be formidable.

[ "I've got you in my sights," says Jack, seeing a patient trying to sneak out of bed. The little huff of a laugh that sneaks out of her fades to a sniffle, nestling her head into the pillow. She isn't a leaky mess, at least. Her nanites were doing well keeping up with the excess fluids if little else. Viruses were difficult. ]

[mylawn]

That seems a little unethical.

[To have a sick student become a class project. If she turns to look at him, she'll see his eyebrows raised. Jack says it, however, knowing full well that he's not the expert. He'll defer to Angela on most things in this department, especially if she's not trying to overexert herself while sick. He knows that they both have a tendency to run themselves ragged.

His fingertips stop stroking her arm so that he can settle his hand around her waist, breath right at the back of her neck. The prospect of him actually taking up some kind of position in Medbay, however, gets a laugh out of him.]

I have field medicine experience. I wouldn't be too bad.

[cadeuces]

It wasn't so bad; we also practiced injections on one another and drawing blood. It's standard. Better to poke each other and take it as incentive to learn than harass some legitimately ill person with our fumbling.

[ She doesn't turn, but she can hear the almost amused skepticism in his voice, lips quirking with it. Her eyes are closed and she's simply soaking up the heat he offers, shivers subtle and quieting further as it sinks in, content. The longer she speaks, however, the more her words stretch out and soften, clearly tired and winding down. There's an appreciative little hum with the stroke of his fingers at her arm, but it stops soon enough to curl over her, covering his hand with hers to run her thumb along the top, feeling taut tendons and the gun-worn planes of his palm at the edge of her fingertips.

His breath is warm at her nape but it tickles when he laughs, disturbing the fine hairs and eliciting a little shiver from her as a breath slips out of her in return. ]

No, you'd be perfect. I'll just have to drill bedside manner into you...

[ Unfortunately that's about as much conversation as he'll get from her, because a scarce few moments later and she'll stop replying, breathing easing into a comfortable shallowness, entirely asleep as the touch at his hand slows to a stop. ]