#misstheground

   “Only ten? Wow, I thought it’d been way more.” 

   She’s sitting on the floor, building pieces of a certain new robot companion friend thing, and she’s smiling, contentedly to herself, even if the mood around her is somber. ( It’s a lot. Like, pushing on her. Like, she’s drowning. Like, she wants to make it better, because she can’t, because this is her, and this is her life, and there’s nothing she can ever do to change it. ) 

“Then you will not help me,” Shoya ground out, leaning heavily against the wall and clutching at her side. It was a childish stance, she knew… what was worse, putting herself in the hands of this ridiculous woman? Or risking whatever this was alone?

The logical choice won out. “I have been shot. I have never seen the weapon before. There is no blood. But it – hurts.”

“Lemme see.” It’d’nt been a hot minute since she’d laid eyes on wingy here, but you didn’t leave a buddy to drown. That was what-it-was, even for  barely-friends who were just a hop’n’a skip away from a gudge.

“How’s your stomach doing?” Better, hopefully, given that Christine had come over because she saw the crewman starting to sit up and glower at the rest of the staff again; but she supposed Shoya Kasamali couldn’t be blamed for being grumpy that they’d been induced vomiting.

“Less nauseous?” she added as se scanned her read-outs. Heart rate and blood pressure looked a lot better. Still warmer than she’d like her to be. And when she set a hand on her arm, that was still trembling too. “It looks like you’re starting to recover, at least.

“ You wanted to meet with me? ”