kukkijar | Teddy Altman ; APPOINTMENTS

Hey, hey...

[With Mia able to look at him, Teddy can't really hold back any longer. He leans over just as he slides his hands under her head and shoulder, and he lifts her up just enough to pull her into a hug. Enough for his arm to slide around her back and his free hand to hold the back of her head, letting her cry on his shoulder. He shuts his own eyes, hoping that she'll take as long as she needs rather than try to gather herself up in front of him.]

It's okay... it's okay...

[At first, for a few seconds, she feels smothered and closed-in within his hold, calling up with intensity the memory of the boiling bloody sea beyond death. Mia's breath catches on it, and there she realizes she can still breathe just fine; what's more, with Teddy holding her like this she doesn't have to worry as much about the quiet, and she starts to cry in earnest, temporarily abandoning every feeling that isn't desperate loss.

It will take her a long time to settle, because she is not trying to collect herself. She can't, not this time, not on her own.]

[Teddy's fine with that. He knows that just about everyone who went on that draft should probably just cry for a while, even someone who's strong like Mia. That was a horror that no one could come back quite the same from, and the loss they all felt is deep within them. It's a loss he can't identify with, but by god, he does not want that to be the reason why people shut him away.

So for more reasons than one, it's a relief to feel her cry against his shoulder. It's a dam being broken as well as a friend being trusted.

He rubs circles into her back, continuing to whisper comforting nonsense, just to give a soothing voice in return for making her breath catch like it did earlier. Holds her like she means something, because she does, and he hadn't been lying when he said he was glad to see her back in the draft. He was glad to see her alive.]

[After a while, it shifts from raw, painful sobbing into something gentler but hardly less painful, a mixture of loss and failure and not knowing how to stop crying anymore, despite how exhausted she is. Every third breath or so catches, now, on the inhale, the sort of half-hiccup sound that comes only with powerful tears.

Finally, finally she thinks she has some measure of control over herself, and she finds herself still weak and drained; one hand closes with a visible tremble around a bit of Teddy's shirt.]

I'm- so- sorry.

[Each word separated by a few breaths and punctuated by that now-unbearable hitch in her throat. Just that much is enough to bring fresh tears, renew all her feelings of how much better she should be than this.]

It's okay... Don't be sorry.

[He's not sure what she's sorry for, if it's for crying on him or... or maybe it was those hidden feelings that he could never quite pick past, always hung back on, because it reminded him of what he himself could be like.

Teddy stays quiet after that, not wanting to press the issue too much. But he does want her to know that she really doesn't have to be sorry, not for anything she's done. It's okay.]

But I- shouldn't-

[No, she tells herself, no you need to not talk until you can do it in whole sentences. Even short ones. Teddy already spent all this time comforting her when he must be hurting too, for himself and for Billy and his other friends on the draft, and yet he hasn't let go. For the first time since dying that day, she feels safe enough.

So she cries a little more, without trying to explain herself; it's another few minutes before all the jumps in her breathing resolve to just one or two every once in a while. Mia lacks the strength to so much as lift her head yet, but she'll get there.]

[He gives a quiet shushing sound, more of a comforting noise than anything, before he stays silent again. The rubbing at her back stops, but as she starts to settle down, he strokes her hair instead, and the arm around her starts to loosen, though he doesn't let go just yet.

Still, he keeps quiet. No need to push; if she want to tell him, she will. Or at least, he hopes so.]

[The last person Mia remembers stroking her hair like this was her mother, when she was a little girl. She shivers.

Finally - it feels like hours have passed - Mia lifts her head a little from Teddy's shoulder, on her own. She can only imagine what she looks like, she knows her face must be all puffy red splotches and bloodshot eyes and dark circles (they all stand out more against how pale she remains), and she doesn't have it in her to smile.

Everything is a little blurred after so much crying.] I understand, if... [And there isn't much left of her voice, but she wants to get through at least this.] ...you don't know- what to think of me now.

[I understand if you can't rely on me like you used to which gives her a sort of quiver, standing on the precipice of getting upset all over again.]

[Teddy keeps his hand in Mia's hair for a little longer until his hand eventually lowers - the both of them actually, to cover Mia's hands. He still sticks close, in case she needs to cry again. But for now, he'll just stay, seeing her for all her red splotches and dark circles and not caring for anything except the fact that she's probably been getting about as much sleep as Billy. Which is, to say, not much at all.]

What are you talking about? You're you. You're the same Mia I always know.

I'm. [She swallows around the raspiness and rising lump in her throat.] I'm not- dependable. [A few tears escape a very tenuous hold on the whole thing starting all over again. Don't let it happen, Teddy. She knows how she sounds and how she's corrected him for less.]

[Where in the world did she get this idea from? Something from the draft, or just now? Or when she started crying? Or when she fainted?

Either way, Teddy can't let a thought like that go on. He lifts one hand to brush a few tears away, a little smile coming up on his lips.]

Hey, come on. Who talked to me when I was doubting everything about me? Who tracked me down during that time when all our memories got messed with, and wasn't scared of me even when I was scared of myself? Who's the person I went to when I had to tell someone, anyone that I wanted to ask my boyfriend to marry me?

[With his hand near her cheek, he uses that to brush some of her hair back.]

That was all you, Mia. You're one of the most dependable of all the friends I have.

[She almost laughs, at the absurdity of this whole thing; where was that Teddy and his uncertain footing in the world, and who brought in this replacement confident one? (She tells him from time to time that he has this sort of thing in him and never thinks he believes her.)]

If people...can't trust my decisions- my s-stability. [The strain of all that crying and no sleep is resolving itself into a profound headache, one that throbs almost out loud in time with her racing heart.] Then I've failed in my duties.

[He frowns a little; if this were the other way around, if he were saying this to Mia, would she think he was being absurd too? Because he kind of feels that way, and it hurts to see it.]

Mia... breaking down over a horrible war that killed a lot of people doesn't mean that you're... unstable. It shows that you're human, just like the rest of us. And... [He gives another little smile.] You're talking to me like you're just a healer to everyone, but you're not. You're a person, you're one of my closest friends. Having a good cry doesn't mean I'm not going to trust you with everything I've got anymore.

[Listening to what he says, thinking through answers, calms her down a little more. She still has little breathing hiccups every so often, but she is unlikely to cry again any time soon.]

I know all of those things, I promise I know them, but when things like this happen... [She can't just fall apart all the time. It is perfectly fine for anyone else to do it, though, if they need to, and she knows the double standard doesn't seem fair but it comes with the job. Mia closes her eyes and puts one hand over them, lowering her head. She can feel her words slurring at the edges, slowed from fainting and exhaustion, and trying to make herself understood when her thoughts are just as slurred is like trudging up a mountain. If Teddy offers even the slightest inclination that it will be okay to do so, Mia will lean right back into him.]

Things like what? War? Seeing people die in front of you? Crying because of it?

[Teddy lets out a small sigh as he wraps an arm around her shoulder to pull her to him again. It's definitely okay for her to lean on him; in fact, he's encouraging it. It's tempting to relate, to say that people died on his watch too... but he knows she'd try to turn it around and talk him through it instead, and right now, this isn't about him.]

It's okay to cry. God knows I'm bad at remembering it, too. Doctors can cry, healers can cry. It's a good way to let everyone else know they're not... desensitized or whatever to it. And themselves, too.

Most of all? It's okay to cry in front of me. I'm not gonna think less of you just because you showed me something that makes you feel... I don't know, inadequate. Because you're definitely adequate, and more than that, to me.

Edited 2014-06-27 01:10 (UTC)

[Mia cannot remember the last time she felt so...comforted. It has been a while, an impossibly long while. The snowy fog in her head continues to clear, a bit faster with each minute that passes. Opening and closing her hands as the last of the pins-and-needles feeling disappears, Mia finally lifts her head again. She does not wear a smile, but she looks relieved enough that it might almost be one.]

We're not supposed to cry in front of people, because they depend on us to believe everything will be all right. To not worry and not be afraid. When that bomb went off- [In her mind, one hand reaches to grasp someone's shirt, tight, while she whispers how sorry she is and holds her breath; in the present, that breath hitches, and the echo of nothingness makes her shiver.] I didn't know what to do afterward. I have never been so afraid, even when we were going to face Alex.

[Her voice catches on a dry and worn throat, but after a solid cough she shakes her head.] Maybe I have forgotten...how to be a friend, like this.

[At first, Teddy looks like he's caught on something she said. Bomb? What was this about a bomb? Billy never told him...

... He'll ask her later. He puts a smile on instead, small yet warm, and gently places her palm against the top of her head.]

I think you've just been stuck in healer mode all this time. We're not in on the battlefield anymore... It's okay to be in friend mode now.

Hm. [Maybe. Is it possible to remain "stuck in healer mode" for...over a year, in pieces? Maybe.]

There are still so many people hurting, Teddy. I can't let them go any more than I can stop caring about you. [Mia pushes away enough to really look at him, finally considering what she must look like and trying to wipe her face enough with one hand.] Am I allowed to say I'm proud of you now?

[He's not sure if she should be proud. But he'll take it anyway, and... it does mean a lot, hearing her say that. So his smile grows a little, and he nods once.]

Yeah... sorry. Wasn't trying to deny you permission or anything. [He tilts his head a little, one eyebrow raised.] I'm proud of you too, you know.

Whatever for?

[Look at me, she seems to say, look at her and the state she's in and how awful she is being to herself.]

I know just as well as anyone how hard it is to... let go like that in front of someone. Not just getting things off your chest, but letting go of your... I don't know, defenses?

[He gives her hair a ruffle, though he knows that her hair isn't exactly the ruffling kind.] Took me a while to get that doing that can actually make you feel a little better.

[When she arrived at the apartment her hair was braided down; she imagines it looks much more disheveled now, especially after a friendly ruffling.]

I already know it makes you feel better and it's still quite hard to actually do it. [Pushing a piece of said disheveled hair out of her face, Mia looks at her hands and their gentle tremor, then the door.] I should go, before I wake Billy or- or take up too much of your time, but I think you'll argue with me about that one.

Teddy Altman ; APPOINTMENTS

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