[ somehow that lands like it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. hell, maybe it is. she can't imagine the gods doing her any favors, it's not like they've ever showed up for any of them before - and they've generally always needed the help. there's someone she can ask here, and while she doesn't mention it to Hook, fact-checking probably isn't a bad idea. if Zeus brought him back, she'd like to know he isn't gonna end up owing him one somewhere down the line.
it shouldn't matter in the moment; she should just be glad he's here, awake, with more memories of her than she's honestly comfortable with. that should be what she focuses on, instead of wondering how this fell apart or could fall apart, or trying to determine what that next terrible thing that takes someone away from her is going to be. she just can't catch up to all of this, even when he meets her gaze and brushes his hand against her cheek.
she leans in, almost in spite of better judgement, a few tears perilously close to falling under his touch. for the four months she's been awake, she's managed to stay in control of her emotions (at least when control was something it was possible to have). now, it doesn't seem to matter that she'd rather hold back, her restraint's not the same when she's with someone she cares about. ] Don't think I missed the word willingly. That's how I end up awake while everyone else is taking a nap.
[ he might not have willingly left her side, but there were other forces conspiring to keep them apart.]
I don't know how to do this; you know me. You know I don't. You know - [ he knows she's afraid. he always has.] You know I'm not the same person you married.
no subject
[ somehow that lands like it's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. hell, maybe it is. she can't imagine the gods doing her any favors, it's not like they've ever showed up for any of them before - and they've generally always needed the help. there's someone she can ask here, and while she doesn't mention it to Hook, fact-checking probably isn't a bad idea. if Zeus brought him back, she'd like to know he isn't gonna end up owing him one somewhere down the line.
it shouldn't matter in the moment; she should just be glad he's here, awake, with more memories of her than she's honestly comfortable with. that should be what she focuses on, instead of wondering how this fell apart or could fall apart, or trying to determine what that next terrible thing that takes someone away from her is going to be. she just can't catch up to all of this, even when he meets her gaze and brushes his hand against her cheek.
she leans in, almost in spite of better judgement, a few tears perilously close to falling under his touch. for the four months she's been awake, she's managed to stay in control of her emotions (at least when control was something it was possible to have). now, it doesn't seem to matter that she'd rather hold back, her restraint's not the same when she's with someone she cares about. ] Don't think I missed the word willingly. That's how I end up awake while everyone else is taking a nap.
[ he might not have willingly left her side, but there were other forces conspiring to keep them apart.]
I don't know how to do this; you know me. You know I don't. You know - [ he knows she's afraid. he always has.] You know I'm not the same person you married.