It's different now, when she isn't quite so upset and he presses a kiss to her head all the same. It's a little distracting, actually, but in such an unexpectedly nice way all she can do is curl in a little closer to him.
"You are." And she hopes he always stays because now that she knows how much she can rely on him, how easy it can be to trust him, how good it feels to be this close to him, she doesn't think she can go back to being alone. "And so am I, and a few people who have no idea what they're talking about will never be able to change that."
He wonders, now, if she understands what he's feeling for her- if she
understands that, perhaps, she's feeling the same things. The start of
something pleasant, just a curl in his stomach that means intimacy in a way
he hasn't felt for a while. And it's so much safer than last time.
He won't tell her yet. Not now. Not when she's feeling like this, because
he wants this to be something good for them to share, not something that
only comes up when one of them is feeling bad. So he nods and tightens his
hold on her, and lets those other things rest for now. "Good. Fuck 'em,
Rey- you know what you're worth."
Some part of her does, certainly, but it's not something that she recognizes on a conscious level. She'll berate herself for not seeing it sooner once she does put the pieces together but for now, they're in the same book even if they aren't on the same page just yet.
His phrasing gets so soft laugh from her, though, and she looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.
Without even thinking about it, she leans into his touch, lets his hand brush her unbruised cheek. It's too natural to think twice about it, too pleasant to avoid.
"I'll have to take your word for that." She says, but it's not as grim as it could be. She didn't ever have anyone to tell jokes to before, but she has him now.
"You will have to," he agrees, smiling just very slightly. He's still
stroking her cheek, still keeping her close to him, and it's like he feels
more alive right now.
On Jakku if she was ever hurt, there was really only one option when it came to taking care of it. She couldn't, or maybe just wouldn't, trade her salvage for medicine unless it was something particularly life threatening when she could trade for food. Occasionally she'd get lucky and find first aid kits on old ships, but for the most part all she ever did when hurt was wait it out.
It hasn't even occurred to her to go to the infirmary when Han and now Bull are there, not when all she needs is a few days and her injuries will have healed on their own.
But that's not really what she's thinking of now. She's thinking of how much she's come to like being touched like this, about how much she likes to see Tommy looking so content. Han's death still matters, it will always matter, but the pain of it is fading so fast now she's having time to realize that isn't the only thing she's feeling right now.
His question breaks her out of that line of thought, though, and she blinks when she realizes she didn't answer and she should do that.
"It'll go away eventually," she says, bringing a hand up to check the swelling. "I usually heal quickly."
"I've some ointment," he says, all the same, reaching up to trace a thumb
just around the edge of the mark. "It smells bloody bad, but it works."
He isn't usually very good at taking care of people like this: delegating,
yes, and he knows like no one else where to go to solve a problem. But this
is simpler, this is soothing a smaller, physical pain, and he usually
leaves that to the women. But Polly isn't here, and it's Rey, who right now
feels so alone. He just wants to do something.
It would be something she would say no to under normal circumstances, an item she didn't desperately need and so she wouldn't make a trade for it, but it's never been like that with Tommy. She knows it never will be now, and what's more important is she knows that these are things that people will sometimes offer with no other purpose than helping.
That's what this is, she can see it in his face while he touches her so softly, and it's all but impossible to turn that down, but there's something nice about that. He says it smells bad and she can't help the small smile that gets from her.
Immediately she misses the lack of contact, but just as quickly she realizes that's perhaps not something she should be worrying about.
"Now?" She asks, and that strikes her as not quite right immediately too. He'll be back, so why is she worried about his leaving? She sits up even after she says it, looking a little surprised with herself as she does. "It doesn't look that bad, does it?"
So it didn't cover for her at all. This is what happens when she lets herself open up to someone, it would seem. They start to see through her, but it isn't really the worst thing in the world.
"No, you're right. But-"
She reaches for her communicator and then taps something out on it, glances up at him when the text goes through. It's the code to the door, the code that so far only her and Luke know.
"I'd like to avoid any other visitors, so you can just come straight back in. There's the control panel in the center of the door, you just put that in there."
He closes his hand around the communicator in his pocket, and then looks up
at her with pleasant surprise-- he doesn't know that it's only her and
Luke, of course, but he knows how careful she is.
"Alright," he says, levelly, not wanting to make her feel like this is as
big a deal as he suspects it is. "I'll just be a few minutes, eh?"
He's so tempted to reach out again, to cup his hand around her elbow or pat
her shoulder, but he restrains himself- there's such a thing as too much,
he knows that, and he manages to stop while he's ahead.
"What else do I have going on, eh?" Plenty: but she has priority right now.
He's back in ten minutes, carrying a glass jar of something that even looks
pungent. He punches in the code, then calls out her name to announce
himself.
When he returns he'll find her sitting where they had been before, communicator in hand while she keeps an eye on what's being said, trying to get an idea for who she might expect to show up here next. She might actually be in the clear now, it seems like, so when she sets the device aside she only looks mildly concerned.
When she sees the jar, him standing there with it in his hands because he'd wanted to take some of her pain away and couldn't be bothered to wait, she smiles softly. It feels a little odd to do it after so much sadness, but it happens so naturally she can't really help it.
"I wouldn't want you to make you make a second trip," she says graciously, but once he gets the lid off the jar her eyes widen just a little. He'd warned her about the smell but she still isn't entirely prepared for it.
For some reason, this doesn't surprise her. He'd taken it upon himself last night to care for her, but that had been because she was in shock. Whatever his reason for doing it now she barely even thinks twice before just scooting toward him so he'll be able to reach her easily.
He isn't overly gentle with her, presses the ointment right onto the bruise, but he hardly thinks she's made of sugar. The stuff is pungent but cool, and the sharp smell does bode well.
He inspects the spot, then nods. "Any other places?"
It hurts, of course, but it only shows in the way she closes her eyes and her brow furrows while she endures the application. The cooling feeling immediately tells her this was the right idea, but his question makes the large bruise on her back throb.
When she had kicked the Iron Bull to make him let go of her staff, she had been suspended in the air at the time and that was not a short drop. She'd taken the impact mostly on her back, and that is exactly the problem with him asking that question.
She can't reach to put the ointment on herself, but she also can't let him do it for her without taking her top off. That's not something she can expect him to be fine with, but she's not going to lie about it either.
"My back. I hit the deck hard, but I haven't looked yet at how bad it is."
And it's under her clothes. Her eyes are still closed when she says it and she's not going to open them until he speaks again, so any reaction he'll have to that will be entirely his, private.
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"You are." And she hopes he always stays because now that she knows how much she can rely on him, how easy it can be to trust him, how good it feels to be this close to him, she doesn't think she can go back to being alone. "And so am I, and a few people who have no idea what they're talking about will never be able to change that."
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He wonders, now, if she understands what he's feeling for her- if she understands that, perhaps, she's feeling the same things. The start of something pleasant, just a curl in his stomach that means intimacy in a way he hasn't felt for a while. And it's so much safer than last time.
He won't tell her yet. Not now. Not when she's feeling like this, because he wants this to be something good for them to share, not something that only comes up when one of them is feeling bad. So he nods and tightens his hold on her, and lets those other things rest for now. "Good. Fuck 'em, Rey- you know what you're worth."
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His phrasing gets so soft laugh from her, though, and she looks up at him with a raised eyebrow.
"That seems like contradictory advice."
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He snorts softly and reaches up to brush some hair away from her eyes. "You're a funny one, eh?"
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"I'll have to take your word for that." She says, but it's not as grim as it could be. She didn't ever have anyone to tell jokes to before, but she has him now.
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"You will have to," he agrees, smiling just very slightly. He's still stroking her cheek, still keeping her close to him, and it's like he feels more alive right now.
"Do you need something for that bruise, Rey?"
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It hasn't even occurred to her to go to the infirmary when Han and now Bull are there, not when all she needs is a few days and her injuries will have healed on their own.
But that's not really what she's thinking of now. She's thinking of how much she's come to like being touched like this, about how much she likes to see Tommy looking so content. Han's death still matters, it will always matter, but the pain of it is fading so fast now she's having time to realize that isn't the only thing she's feeling right now.
His question breaks her out of that line of thought, though, and she blinks when she realizes she didn't answer and she should do that.
"It'll go away eventually," she says, bringing a hand up to check the swelling. "I usually heal quickly."
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"I've some ointment," he says, all the same, reaching up to trace a thumb just around the edge of the mark. "It smells bloody bad, but it works."
He isn't usually very good at taking care of people like this: delegating, yes, and he knows like no one else where to go to solve a problem. But this is simpler, this is soothing a smaller, physical pain, and he usually leaves that to the women. But Polly isn't here, and it's Rey, who right now feels so alone. He just wants to do something.
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That's what this is, she can see it in his face while he touches her so softly, and it's all but impossible to turn that down, but there's something nice about that. He says it smells bad and she can't help the small smile that gets from her.
"I can just hold my breath, then."
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"Alright, then," he nods, dropping his hand from her cheek when he notices how intimate that is, how close they are.
"I'll go get that, then. You sit tight."
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"Now?" She asks, and that strikes her as not quite right immediately too. He'll be back, so why is she worried about his leaving? She sits up even after she says it, looking a little surprised with herself as she does. "It doesn't look that bad, does it?"
Hopefully that covered for her a little.
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That-- surprises him a little, and it shows in his eyes. His eyebrows draw up, and his hand curls lightly around his own knee.
"It doesn't, but the longer we leave it the longer it'll hurt. Or I could- stay?"
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"No, you're right. But-"
She reaches for her communicator and then taps something out on it, glances up at him when the text goes through. It's the code to the door, the code that so far only her and Luke know.
"I'd like to avoid any other visitors, so you can just come straight back in. There's the control panel in the center of the door, you just put that in there."
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He closes his hand around the communicator in his pocket, and then looks up at her with pleasant surprise-- he doesn't know that it's only her and Luke, of course, but he knows how careful she is.
"Alright," he says, levelly, not wanting to make her feel like this is as big a deal as he suspects it is. "I'll just be a few minutes, eh?"
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"There's really no rush, it doesn't hurt that badly."
But it does look horrible so having that fixed up so she can leave her room without looking like a victim would be nice.
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He's so tempted to reach out again, to cup his hand around her elbow or pat her shoulder, but he restrains himself- there's such a thing as too much, he knows that, and he manages to stop while he's ahead.
"What else do I have going on, eh?" Plenty: but she has priority right now.
He's back in ten minutes, carrying a glass jar of something that even looks pungent. He punches in the code, then calls out her name to announce himself.
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When she sees the jar, him standing there with it in his hands because he'd wanted to take some of her pain away and couldn't be bothered to wait, she smiles softly. It feels a little odd to do it after so much sadness, but it happens so naturally she can't really help it.
"Where did you get that, anyway?"
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"I made it. We Shelbies get ourselves punched often enough that we have our recipes."
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She doesn't mean to sound so surprised, but... well, just look at him. He doesn't exactly look like the type of man to make his own bruise creams.
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They aren't hurt, just to be sure: his eyes are crinkling at the corners, even if he's keeping his mouth in check.
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"What's in it?"
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"Alright, now."
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He inspects the spot, then nods. "Any other places?"
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When she had kicked the Iron Bull to make him let go of her staff, she had been suspended in the air at the time and that was not a short drop. She'd taken the impact mostly on her back, and that is exactly the problem with him asking that question.
She can't reach to put the ointment on herself, but she also can't let him do it for her without taking her top off. That's not something she can expect him to be fine with, but she's not going to lie about it either.
"My back. I hit the deck hard, but I haven't looked yet at how bad it is."
And it's under her clothes. Her eyes are still closed when she says it and she's not going to open them until he speaks again, so any reaction he'll have to that will be entirely his, private.
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