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♠ | 012 | Video + Spam
[Backdated to Saturday! James is looking p l e n t y pissed when he clicks on the camera, and for a moment there is just an incredibly pissed off face - and then he focuses the feed on his other hand, which is holding a book (naval war history). Except on closer inspection, he's not holding it at all. It's actually stuck to the palm of his hand.]
Parker, if you don't get in here and tell me how to turn this off, I swear I'm going to wring your neck.
[It was a lot funnier when he was just hearing about it happening to Peter, okay.]
[Spam for Vesper]
(Continued from here.)
[Take the bloody shot. It echoes in his thoughts, his ears, along with the clink of pressing his glass against Le Chiffre's in a toast, and he can feel his saliva foam, can taste blood (he's bitten into his lip), can taste the drink and it's killing him, killing him--
He doesn't wake until after Megamind's gone, but it feels like a lifetime, time has slowed to kill him a thousand different ways. He's jerking around on the bed, tangling himself up in his sheets, no doubt hurting himself, but instead of the pain waking him up, it's just further fueling the dreams.]
Parker, if you don't get in here and tell me how to turn this off, I swear I'm going to wring your neck.
[It was a lot funnier when he was just hearing about it happening to Peter, okay.]
[Spam for Vesper]
(Continued from here.)
[Take the bloody shot. It echoes in his thoughts, his ears, along with the clink of pressing his glass against Le Chiffre's in a toast, and he can feel his saliva foam, can taste blood (he's bitten into his lip), can taste the drink and it's killing him, killing him--
He doesn't wake until after Megamind's gone, but it feels like a lifetime, time has slowed to kill him a thousand different ways. He's jerking around on the bed, tangling himself up in his sheets, no doubt hurting himself, but instead of the pain waking him up, it's just further fueling the dreams.]
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But keeping those strange hours mean that she's awake in the middle of the night, and carefully crawled out of bed to check on the cat. Martin's excited to see her, and keeps her occupied for long enough for Megamind to slip in and out of Bond's room and cause that damage. She can hear the rustling of the bedsheets when she gets back, but it doesn't really register as something to be overly concerned about until she actually sees him and the pain in his expression.
She's on the bed and at his side in a moment, shaking him gently, careful not to jostle his injured shoulder.]
James? James, wake up. It's alright, you're safe, wake up-
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He's on his feet and staggering a little, though he's not entirely sure how he got there. His chest is heaving, and he looks around like he doesn't know the place, like he doesn't know where he is or who he is, and there's a hideous moment where he can't discern what was real and what was dream.
Have you ever watched someone drown?]
Vesper, [he murmurs, and sits rather abruptly on the bed again, one leg bent under him, one hand pressed against his ribs to keep them still. He's shirtless, shoulder and sternum wrapped tightly to avoid the jostling he just did, for all the good that did, and he grimaces as he flexes his right hand - around his gun. He didn't even notice pulling it out from under the pillow with him.]
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It's me. Are you alright? [She's more asking about the stitches, and she's definitely eying the bandages to make sure there's no blood staining through, but there's a part of her that's almost reluctant to get closer until she's certain he's awake and aware, and not going to do anything stupid.]
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Fine, [he mutters, though it's clear enough that he's not. The dream still has him agitated, and his eyes dart through the room, into dark corners, like he's expecting to see cigarette smoke curling into sight. Phantom pains he hasn't felt in years make muscles in his legs twinge, and he reaches down subtly to cup himself through his underwear, half anticipating pain and blood.
There's neither, of course, and he shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. His right arm shakes when he lifts it, hurts too much to do more than keep it curled close.]
I'm fine, [he says again, though it's no more believable this time.] Just a bad dream.
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Finally, she can't take it anymore and gestures for him to come over, because she doesn't want to think about how bad he looked in the hospital after Le Chiffre, or how he looked when he'd come back to the Barge. She wants to focus on the fact that he's safe, he's alive, and he's here, because too often that's been something she's thought she'd never get to enjoy again.]
Come here.
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She might not be a particularly good shield against bullets, but she's more than capable of being a shield against fear and bad feelings.]
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(The man who managed to shoot him is alive, the girl is probably alive. M is alive.)]
I'm all right, [he says again, knowing it's ridiculous and needing to say it anyway.]
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(Because if she lets herself start considering the alternatives, and what that's going to mean for him, she thinks she might start getting choked up, and she can't let that happen right now.)]
I know. [She really means she knows he needs to hear himself say it, knows he needs to act like he's fine even though she knows he isn't, but also that he will be all right, that things will get better, and she'll be here through the whole thing.] I know, darling.
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He strokes her side lightly as his heartrate starts to return to normal. He's silent for a while longer, but eventually he feels more himself, believes the lie until it's true, and shifts to lay his head on the pillow beside hers instead of her shoulder. The armor's back.]
[Spam]
I'm sorry for putting up a fuss about you leaving the infirmary early. [It seems like a safe topic, even though he knows perfectly well that she was glad to be able to have this with him after what the last few weeks had been like.]
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Bed was too bloody small, [he jokes, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.]
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It's not that different from how she felt after Le Chiffre, except that now she doesn't have the weight of Quantum hanging over her head, or the memory of Yusef to make her feel guilty for wanting this.]
Do you need anything?
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Did I wake you?
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No. I was checking on the cat.
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Has he torn up your room, yet?
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You're going to have to meet him sometime.
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Am I? [Mutter grumble. He makes a face before glancing down at her.] What does he look like?
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And she's grinning, and it's definitely more than a little impish, because...]
He's a tuxedo cat.
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He is just. Swallowing a groan by holding his breath and lifting his eyes skyward because no.]
You must be joking.
[Spam]
[He's assuming that's not going to happen though, and to be honest, she's not interested in going anywhere any time soon. She's not exactly in any hurry to pull away from him unless it's an emergency.]
[Spam]
His litter box is staying in your room.
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She smooths her hand over his chest, wishing there was more that she could do besides be here and hope things would work out.]
You're sure you don't need anything?
[Spam]
I'm fine. [It's entirely believable, this time, and he leans in to kiss her despite his protesting body.] I've got everything I need.
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