killtime: (pic#12062936)

[personal profile] killtime 2018-12-06 05:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ They’re incorrigible, the both of them. Even in their exhaustion. Her own eyes are heavy-lidded, her voice dropping low and lazy as she responds with a mild wryness: ]

Mm, you know it’s true love when you get hot for someone while they’re telling you off. [ Bully that she is, she’s already looking forward to teasing Rex about it - later, when they’ve all had a little rest. Now that she’s comfortable, it feels like she hasn’t slept in a millennia. ] Better rest the fuck up if you want to be dragging us to bed instead of having us drag you back in here.
ct_7567: (NO HELMET - still his back)

sneaks in here for an endtag AS THO THIS COULD BE ANYTHING BUT INCREDIBLY SHMOOPY

[personal profile] ct_7567 2018-12-07 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ When Andy doesn't return to trade off shifts, Rex isn't alarmed - it wouldn't be unlike Andy to try to give him more time to rest, as though he could rest with Poe in such a state, or to simply want more time with him. But he knows Andy needs the rest too, so he silently enters the medbay to relieve her, only to see them spooned together on the tiny bed, Andy's face pushed into the crook of Poe's neck, Poe's arm sprawled out in a way that can't possibly be comfortable, both in a position that has to be aggravating Poe's stitches.

If they were awake, he'd probably act upset with them, shoo Andy away so he can take a look at those stitches, give Poe a lecture on not pushing it after being in a three day coma, but they're not. They're asleep and far more at peace than he's seen them in what feels like months at this point, even though he knows it's only been a matter of days. These two, he thinks, fondness welling up in his chest, are going to be the death of him. So he takes those rumpled covers and smooths them out over the both of them, re-ups the painkillers being fed to Poe through the needle in his hand, tidies the entire area up and sits in the same chair that he and Andy have been sharing for so long. They love each other - too much, some might say. He's as relieved for Andy as he is for himself; though Poe may be the most demonstrative and verbal of them both, he knows her too well not to see it in everything she does.

He's not sure how long he sits there for, just drinking them in, finally able to admit how much relief he feels to see them whole and together and safe, and just how convinced he had been that it would end in ruin. So much of his life has that, sometimes, it's difficult to believe this is real. Before he leaves, he leaves a folded leaf of flimsi on the chair: ]


Those stitches better be right where I left them.

-R