[ Chalk it up to nanomachines; any bruises or lacerations she may have had were gone just as quick, any puffiness beneath her eyes quick to settle. The only sign of stress she shows is in the gentle hints of fussing when no one's looking and the shadow of circles under her eyes. What good would a field medic be if she let the little things drag her down? This sort of a work load was nothing compared to her usual. Multiple sleepless nights in a row were not uncommon, nor tirelessly working through patient after patient after patient and constantly beckoned across a compound to see to one critical case or another. And comfort, just as he suspects, is something she brooks no arguments on— it is as human as it comes, being able to wind down into a nest of blankets and have good food to recharge, if little enough else. This is a life she's used to, and the pacdiscs only made it easier. She'd never set up a camp so effortlessly as she did this one.
Which meant it was only easier to take in those she cares about and offer them much the same. No matter where he falls on the worse for wear scale, Angela isn't having it— she worries easily and often and her arms about him convey it with the way her touch gentles at the nape of his neck and slender fingers feather in his hair, the other sweeping slow between his shoulderblades as long as he'll return the embrace. ]
Was everything all right? I know there were a few unaccounted for, but if you were hurt you should have come to the medical tent.
[ When he eases his hold on her she still stays within the circle of his arms, only giving up the slightest bit of distance and tracing her fingertips along the gauze, just beneath the dark red of old blood with a gentle touch. It leaves her stroking at his temple, palm steady against his cheek as she offers up a smile. ]
I'm doing all right; I healed as many people as I could to get them back on their feet and mitigate the workload. I've seen or heard from everyone I know. And I take to camping rather well, as you can see. Now, let me get a look at that head of yours. Have you had anything to eat? Water? I have coffee, as well, though I think mine is the last cup. You can have it while I make another to warm you back up.
[ As he'd embarrassingly, easily predicted, she settles right into the fussing and feeding as if she'd known his stomach was twisting in hunger at the smell of bread. To be fair, he looks like he needs it; that and at least a few hours of sleep. ]
no subject
Which meant it was only easier to take in those she cares about and offer them much the same. No matter where he falls on the worse for wear scale, Angela isn't having it— she worries easily and often and her arms about him convey it with the way her touch gentles at the nape of his neck and slender fingers feather in his hair, the other sweeping slow between his shoulderblades as long as he'll return the embrace. ]
Was everything all right? I know there were a few unaccounted for, but if you were hurt you should have come to the medical tent.
[ When he eases his hold on her she still stays within the circle of his arms, only giving up the slightest bit of distance and tracing her fingertips along the gauze, just beneath the dark red of old blood with a gentle touch. It leaves her stroking at his temple, palm steady against his cheek as she offers up a smile. ]
I'm doing all right; I healed as many people as I could to get them back on their feet and mitigate the workload. I've seen or heard from everyone I know. And I take to camping rather well, as you can see. Now, let me get a look at that head of yours. Have you had anything to eat? Water? I have coffee, as well, though I think mine is the last cup. You can have it while I make another to warm you back up.
[ As he'd embarrassingly, easily predicted, she settles right into the fussing and feeding as if she'd known his stomach was twisting in hunger at the smell of bread. To be fair, he looks like he needs it; that and at least a few hours of sleep. ]