His reflexes are fast -- they have to be when it matters like this -- and he's got his arms around her, bracing her from falling over. He can smell the alcohol on her breath as soon as she curls her body into his, her chin on his shoulder.
(For a split second when she stumbled forward, his mind pulled up a half-dozen scenarios: fresh out of a Pandoran firefight or a chopper crash, bloodied and bruised. The scent of whiskey rather than iron is a welcome relief.
And then her words
Gene's dead.
hit
KIA.
home.
Stunned, and at a momentary loss (she's not a grieving wife or mother; he's not standing on the front porch in his dress greens; he's not handing over a flag; he's not listening to Taps at Arlington) he slides his arms around her and pulls her close.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2010-11-08 04:07 am (UTC)His reflexes are fast -- they have to be when it matters like this -- and he's got his arms around her, bracing her from falling over. He can smell the alcohol on her breath as soon as she curls her body into his, her chin on his shoulder.
(For a split second when she stumbled forward, his mind pulled up a half-dozen scenarios: fresh out of a Pandoran firefight or a chopper crash, bloodied and bruised. The scent of whiskey rather than iron is a welcome relief.
And then her words
Gene's dead.
hit
KIA.
home.
Stunned, and at a momentary loss (she's not a grieving wife or mother; he's not standing on the front porch in his dress greens; he's not handing over a flag; he's not listening to Taps at Arlington) he slides his arms around her and pulls her close.
(Shuts the door.)
"...I got you."