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Shh. [He rubs soothing circles over her back, shaking his head slightly even if she can't see it. Worry aches sharply in him as he looks down at her.] It's all right. Don't move if you don't feel well.
[He moves his other hand, to try and gather her hair back out of the way.]
[He moves his other hand, to try and gather her hair back out of the way.]
I-- [ she's still trying to speak (or croak, at this point), although the sensation of all of the weight of her hair being moved helps. ] I was-- I was killed, a-and I-- I killed so many, but I didn't want to be a monster--
[ This is wildly incoherent, sorry Elza. ]
[ This is wildly incoherent, sorry Elza. ]
[He gathers her hair out of the way, to let cool air get at her neck and her face. His frown is sharp on his face-- did she have a nightmare? But for a nightmare to elicit this kind of reaction...
He smooths his palm up and down her back before craning up to fetch a cloth, wetting it as best he can in the sink without moving his hand from Mary's back.]
You didn't, Mary... you didn't do anything like that. You would never do anything like that. [...] Here, turn toward me? [He'll wipe at her face with that cloth when she does.]
He smooths his palm up and down her back before craning up to fetch a cloth, wetting it as best he can in the sink without moving his hand from Mary's back.]
You didn't, Mary... you didn't do anything like that. You would never do anything like that. [...] Here, turn toward me? [He'll wipe at her face with that cloth when she does.]
[ She does, slowly, squeezing her eyes shut as he passes the cloth over her face and doing her best to breathe slowly and evenly. ]
But I... I felt everything...
[ But how? ]
But I... I felt everything...
[ But how? ]
I... I don't know... [ Mary still looks pale, skin even whiter than her hair. ] It felt more like I was reliving something incredibly p-painful...
[Elza pauses at that. Reliving. While he didn't dream of anything last night, perhaps... This place is strange and all, so it... At least, since it's Mary, it's something he's not willing to set aside.
He continues wiping at her face, and then sets the cloth aside. Fingers comb back her hair again and he cups his palms at her cheeks.] Do you want to talk about it?
--you don't have to right now. Or at all. I wouldn't want you to if it would make you feel worse.
He continues wiping at her face, and then sets the cloth aside. Fingers comb back her hair again and he cups his palms at her cheeks.] Do you want to talk about it?
--you don't have to right now. Or at all. I wouldn't want you to if it would make you feel worse.
Edited 2015-03-18 12:38 (UTC)
[ Mutely, she shakes her head as best as she can, before she sinks her face into his palms, exhausted. She's far from ready to talk about it... especially when the dream had featured someone she knew. ]
M-mm... [ That's close enough to "yes" as she can manage when the words won't come properly and she feels as shaky as a baby deer when she shifts against him.
Dream or not, it's impacted her severely. ]
Dream or not, it's impacted her severely. ]
[ She's a little reluctant to be moved, when she was just settling against his chest, but the instant he sits down, Mary slumps closer.
Whatever truly spooked her, it seems to be lingering. ]
Whatever truly spooked her, it seems to be lingering. ]
Don't go... [ she's not going to be able to leave for awhile, that much is evident, in the way she clutches, curls her fingers into his shirt. ]
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