He rubs his cheek against her palm, and she allows her touch to linger a little longer than she otherwise might. Her eyes start to feel heavy and close, only to slowly open when he says her name. They're both barely hanging in there, and she thinks that maybe she should just ignore him.
She can't do that, of course. She's never able to, even when she probably should.
"Hm?" She drowsily questions, letting her eyes close once again. Her hand slips down from his cheek, and she lets it fall in the small space between them.
"I might dream," he sighs out, but he's already more than halfway asleep, head lolling forward as he finally gives into his exhaustion. He's out in seconds, breathing slowing and evening out. He can't remember the last time he slept so soundly, but he certainly wasn't in space when it happened. Maybe it was that night - the night before his life ended. And he had slept in like a fool with nothing to lose. He's doing it again, his body refusing to relinquish its grasp on sleep now that it has what it needs. Sometime in the night, the top of Frank's head comes to rest against the cap of her shoulder, his face almost entirely on her pillow. One heavy hand settles on her waist, keeping her close though it wasn't something he needed to encourage at all. His good (better) eyelid twitches like he's going through something, but it's not bad enough that he twitches or wakes yet, slipping into REM for the first time in a long time. If he survives it, he might just come out the other end of it saner. Maybe he won't even randomly text dead girls for sport anymore. But, like, don't hold ur breath tho.
The visions come into focus, Maria wasting away like Alex and Bobbie did, Frank unable to stop or hinder it in any way. The ghost captain shows up to laugh at him, a deep booming mockery of his deepest, darkest fears. He can see Kamala, and Karen, but he can't get to them. They're all in vac suits on the hull, but he's tied down while their magboots dim and they float away. His heart seizes with panicked helplessness at all the images cycling through behind his eyes, fingers tightening on Karen's side unbeknownst to him as he dreams on.
The more traditional dream makes its appearance too, Frank tied to a chair in the mess with Karen beside him. The men with masks come in and he's pleading with them, with himself. Because he knows the man in the middle who raises his M1911IA is him. There's no time to save her, and his head whips around just in time to see the bullet pierce her skull and he's screaming now, thrashing to break free. He can't know that he's squirming against her in reality too, clutching at her even as he tries to break his invisible bonds. She's gone and he's left with nothing again, the familiar emptiness usurping him and driving his body towards eery stillness instead.
Karen falls asleep faster than she has in years, feeling safe with Frank there with her. She has nightmares sometimes, but tonight is a dreamless sleep. He curls in closer and she doesn't stir, though she does curl in toward him once he's in so close that they're sharing a pillow. It isn't until his hold on her waist applies enough pressure that she begins to wake up, his nightmare going unnoticed due to how much her body needs the rest.
Once he starts to squirm and move beside her, she blearily blinks awake. Even with drowsiness making her sluggish and her reaction time slow, she knows he's having a nightmare. It must be intense and awful, with the way he's thrashing.
"Frank." She says his name firmly, slipping her hands up to press against his chest. She can feel his heart racing wildly, and she wishes that she could take whatever he's dreaming about and keep it from ever bothering him again. But men like Frank don't have their demons chased away so easily. Even if she gave him all her strength, he'd still struggle with dreams that haunt him. Her hands go to his face, palms pressing against his cheeks. They're close enough that their breath mingles and it's nothing to lean in and press her forehead against his.
His body goes still around the same time she presses her hands against his face, though the two aren't related. They aren't intrinsically linked, in any case. Before he can wake up, he goes slack against her, like total dead weight as he leans into her hands and body. His subconscious registers his name and he lets out a breathy little sigh as it starts to pierce through the veil of his terrible dreams. "Ma..." He never finishes her name, realizing even in his sleep that she's not here, that she's not the one speaking to him. It only makes him lean into Karen more, clutching at her more desperately as he slowly comes around, head weaving unsteadily and eyes fluttering erratically.
"Karen?" It's like he's underwater and can't find the surface to come up for air. The pain in his eye starts to help him break through, but he still can't remember how he got here. When he finally pries his good eyelid open, the other sticks with a sickening crunch, but he doesn't seem to notice. The first thing he does notice is how close their faces are, and that his hand is locked around her upper arm like a vice. His heart is drumming so loud in his ears he can scarcely hear anything else, but she's real and solid, their bodies pressed so tightly he can't separate her breaths from his. "Sorry."
There's tears in her eyes as she waits for him to come to, worry flooding her. It's only a dream, they can't actually harm him. But seeing him in any kind of anguish, even mental, is enough to upset her. But he's waking up now, and she barely notices how painful his grip on her is. It's only after he's aware of what's going on that she can feel the steady pulsing throb on her arm, and all she can do at first is slowly nod like what's happening right now isn't a big deal.
"It's alright."
A voice in the back of her head tells her that she should move, scoot away to give him some space. She doesn't want him to think that she's afraid and trying to get away though, and this closeness gives her a sense of elation that she doesn't fully want to try comprehending yet. She swears she can feel his heart pounding as loud as hers is, and for the moment all she can do is keep her eyes on his and try to reassure him without words that everything is fine and they're safe.
"It was only a dream." Her voice is thick with emotion, but she's smiling. It was only a dream and he's fine.
"It's not," he protests automatically, realizing he's still gripping her arm too tightly and he drops his hand with a self-effacing frown. She's crying - for him? He hopes he didn't say anything in his sleep to give away the subject of his nightmare. His forehead drops once more to her shoulder, rubbing slowly back and forth like it's comforting somehow. His heart's hammer slows, evening out with his breath against her throat. But he's still shaken. No matter how many times he has the same dream it doesn't make it any easier to take.
"Until it isn't." This place would hurt her too, like it had done Alex. She's already been attacked once, what if the next time... he isn't there to save her? It's his fears from home tenfold, and maybe that's what makes him overcome the initial shock of their proximity to wind his arms around her and hold on tight. "It's my job to keep you safe, Karen. My job."
So he dreamt about her. That much is obvious. The fact that she's close to crying when it's him that has to suffer through things like paralyzing fear that he won't be enough is ridiculous. As his arms wrap around her, she slips her arms to hold him in return. His arms are like towers, sheltering her from any outside harm. He can't always be there with her, and they both know that. But they have nothing to worry about or fear now.
"I can -"
She starts to spout off her patronizing bullshit saying that she can take care of herself, but it falls short and dies off on the tip of her tongue. Her head turns, pressing dry lips against the side of his head.
"You have kept me safe, Frank. Any time I'm in trouble, you come for me."
"I know you can take care of yourself, Karen." She's a broken record with that shit, but it doesn't mean he's holding her any less tightly. A lone tear that had been trapped tracks down his face as she turns to kiss it. It has him drawing in a shuddering breath, but he doesn't move away. He doesn't feel capable of it. And maybe it's okay to indulge in drawing out the contact just this once. "But the things this place does to people... I can't protect you from that."
Frank swallows dryly even while clinging on, trying not to see what he just saw behind his eyelids play out over and over with his face buried against her. Eventually, it presses in and becomes too much and he backs off just far enough to make eye contact with her, fingers catching at her waist.
"You said we should stick together and I should've listened." He's abandoned her all over again, hasn't he? The realization isn't a kind nor easy one for him to come to terms with, but at least he's consistent. Letting his friends down, even lightyears and millennia away from home.
Her hand rubs at his back, trying to soothe him. She knows it's only a matter of time before her words act as a way to provoke him, because she can't seem to ever say the right thing with anyone here. "You shouldn't have to feel anchored down by me, Frank."
She doesn't have a life here. She does a good job of running around until the point of exhaustion, but any acquaintance she has is surface level at best. The friends she tells herself she has probably don't spare her a thought at the end of the day. So many times it feels like all she really has is Max, but even he's not hers. He's Frank's, and rightfully spends a lot of his time with him. She grew up telling herself that she'd make something out of herself, that her name would mean something someday.
The reality of the matter is she desperately just wants her name to matter to one person. But she can't put that on Frank. "I don't want to hold you back."
Her voice cracks and she finds herself crying, a lone tear slipping down her cheek. "But I don't want you to forget about me either."
Anchored down? Holding him back? Forgetting about her? He thought he fielded her insecurities already where this was concerned but clearly he'll have to redouble his efforts. It's easier now that he's estranged from the crew, and he realizes that makes him selfish, that he'd prioritized a group of strangers over his friend from home. Frank continues to pull back, but it doesn't make the moment any less intimate from his side of things, pushing errant hair back that falls into her face and tucking it behind her ear. He could fall right back to sleep now, he's so wiped, and he doesn't even think he would dream. But she needs his assurances now, in any form he knows how to give them.
"I'm here, Karen. I'm right here." He wipes that tear from her face with one calloused thumbpad, cupping her cheek and hanging on gently. "And as long as we've got each other, we're gonna be alright." She knows he won't allow for an alternative. Or at least, he'll do everything in his considerable power to prevent just that. Too bad this place oppresses people much stronger than him.
"How do you think I could forget about you, huh? Like anyone could forget a force of nature all her own like Karen freakin' Page."
This is too intimate for people who are just friends. It manages to make her more insecure somehow, because she isn't sure how to react to his attention or his words. Her teeth press against her lip, keeping inside anything she might say without thinking. She wants to be honest, but doesn't want to hurt him.
"A force of nature that thought she did something wrong." She whispers, tipping her head to lean into his touch. It's easy for him to say that they'll stick together, and that everything will be fine as long as that happens. The reality of the matter is that actions speak louder than words, and right now her heightened emotions make everything feel magnified.
"I didn't know what to think when you weren't here." And she sure as hell doesn't now that he's in so close that she feels closer to him than she ever has anyone else. "I did what I always do. I kept going. Alone."
"Karen..." As much as she may not want to hurt him, she is; her words cutting him deep. But maybe he deserves that as much as this swollen fucking eye. "You didn't do anything wrong." An assurance as he pets over her hair, then goes back to holding the side of her face, his eyes filling with water again.
"It's just three decks, I was never hiding from you." He just hadn't actively sought her out or thought of including her. Maybe it was another layer to protecting her in the end. Alone. The word echoes in his ears unpleasantly; that he made Karen feel that way. Frank never put much thought into her reliance on him or that he could potentially let her down - even if it should've been on his mind here. At home, he walks in and out of her life with ease, but here... Here they're stuck together on a life raft with no oars. "I never meant..." Frank runs out of words fast, instead pressing his forehead against hers again. This seems to be a language they can both understand.
That gesture does more than words ever could. There's a shuddering breath at the first press of contact, and she instantly relaxes. "I know," she murmurs, giving the tiniest nod. She doesn't want to dislodge him or make him feel like he should pull away. Thoughts of excuses on why she didn't just invite herself wherever he was flood her mind, and she grips hold of his arm like it's a lifeline. As her eyes drift closed, it's easy to pretend that the conversation is over there.
It isn't, of course, because she can't keep her mouth shut.
"I was jealous, if you can believe it." She dryly laughs at her own stupidity, but feels her throat go dry as she can't figure out if it was Frank or his new friends that she was jealous of. Maybe it doesn't really matter now. The clearing of the air is enough, it doesn't have to be a total reveal of every little thing that's on her mind or what she's feeling.
He's not moving away, and not just because her grip locks him in. They both know he could break it easily if he didn't want to be there. He doesn't want to read into needing this - or needing her. He just wants to be, just this way, for as long as he can get away with. That's selfish too, he knows.
"I can't," he utters seriously against her ear, hand coming up to tangle in messy hair until his fingers reach her scalp. His own scalp tingles then - don't the kids call that ASMR? Karen should never be jealous of him, she's so much more than he's ever been. Than he ever will be again, especially. "I think it's over anyway." He means his status with the Rocis. He knows how tight-knit they are and if Amos distrusts him, surely the rest will follow. Maybe it had been a deliberate sabotage of his own happiness in the end. It's not like it would be out of character.
Frank squeezes her suddenly, his body hugging hers in a firm embrace. Would it be so bad if they fell asleep again, intertwined? As if to challenge himself and his own thoughts, Frank wedges one thick thigh between her legs, completing their meld.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, wishing he could start over here on so many levels.
"You don't know what will happen," she instantly reassures him, voice barely more than a whisper. While the selfish part of her wants things to always be like this with him, she knows that he needs his friends. She can't be his entire life here, just like she doesn't expect him to be hers. It's easy to ignore that rational voice in her head as he hugs her tight, legs twined and bodies pressed so close together that it's impossible for her to move. The urge to pull away isn't there, but she feels so utterly surrounded by him that he consumes her senses and makes a shiver go through her slender frame.
"So don't be sorry. That's an order."
This more than makes up for whatever mutual distance that's been between them. It's enough to pull her back in to the edge of sleep once more, smiling contently as she shifts so her head curls in to press against his shoulder.
It's true: he doesn't know. He hasn't known anything since he got here, and as frustrating as it is... there's a comfort alongside it too. If he isn't in control then it isn't truly his responsibility to fix anything, is it? His eyelashes flit softly against the rise of her cheek, already starting to nod off. Frank idly wets his lips and ignores how much he has to pee. Everything he's feeling now is blanketed in an intense contentment that not even his stupid dreams could shatter, and shutting his eyes doesn't call up visions of terror and violence, just the welcome darkness behind his eyes.
"Yes, ma'am," he murmurs, right on the edge of unconsciousness again.
"Mm.." she makes a vague, pleased sound at the fact he's going along with what she's told him to do. It makes her nuzzle up against him, arm protectively coming up around him like it might keep bad dreams away. Her hand rests against his hip, but her hold loosens when she starts to doze off almost instantly. She's comfortable, she feels like some kind of breakthrough's happened here, and she feels ridiculously happy at having him there with her.
The last thing that slowly rolls through her mind before darkness takes over is hoping that he's actually still there when she wakes up. The odds are likely they'll both sleep well into the next day, and there's no telling what mood either of them will be in when they're well rested and not so emotional.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She can't do that, of course. She's never able to, even when she probably should.
"Hm?" She drowsily questions, letting her eyes close once again. Her hand slips down from his cheek, and she lets it fall in the small space between them.
cw: disturbing imagery, murder
The visions come into focus, Maria wasting away like Alex and Bobbie did, Frank unable to stop or hinder it in any way. The ghost captain shows up to laugh at him, a deep booming mockery of his deepest, darkest fears. He can see Kamala, and Karen, but he can't get to them. They're all in vac suits on the hull, but he's tied down while their magboots dim and they float away. His heart seizes with panicked helplessness at all the images cycling through behind his eyes, fingers tightening on Karen's side unbeknownst to him as he dreams on.
The more traditional dream makes its appearance too, Frank tied to a chair in the mess with Karen beside him. The men with masks come in and he's pleading with them, with himself. Because he knows the man in the middle who raises his M1911IA is him. There's no time to save her, and his head whips around just in time to see the bullet pierce her skull and he's screaming now, thrashing to break free. He can't know that he's squirming against her in reality too, clutching at her even as he tries to break his invisible bonds. She's gone and he's left with nothing again, the familiar emptiness usurping him and driving his body towards eery stillness instead.
no subject
Once he starts to squirm and move beside her, she blearily blinks awake. Even with drowsiness making her sluggish and her reaction time slow, she knows he's having a nightmare. It must be intense and awful, with the way he's thrashing.
"Frank." She says his name firmly, slipping her hands up to press against his chest. She can feel his heart racing wildly, and she wishes that she could take whatever he's dreaming about and keep it from ever bothering him again. But men like Frank don't have their demons chased away so easily. Even if she gave him all her strength, he'd still struggle with dreams that haunt him. Her hands go to his face, palms pressing against his cheeks. They're close enough that their breath mingles and it's nothing to lean in and press her forehead against his.
"Wake up, Frank. I'm with you."
no subject
"Karen?" It's like he's underwater and can't find the surface to come up for air. The pain in his eye starts to help him break through, but he still can't remember how he got here. When he finally pries his good eyelid open, the other sticks with a sickening crunch, but he doesn't seem to notice. The first thing he does notice is how close their faces are, and that his hand is locked around her upper arm like a vice. His heart is drumming so loud in his ears he can scarcely hear anything else, but she's real and solid, their bodies pressed so tightly he can't separate her breaths from his. "Sorry."
no subject
"It's alright."
A voice in the back of her head tells her that she should move, scoot away to give him some space. She doesn't want him to think that she's afraid and trying to get away though, and this closeness gives her a sense of elation that she doesn't fully want to try comprehending yet. She swears she can feel his heart pounding as loud as hers is, and for the moment all she can do is keep her eyes on his and try to reassure him without words that everything is fine and they're safe.
"It was only a dream." Her voice is thick with emotion, but she's smiling. It was only a dream and he's fine.
no subject
"Until it isn't." This place would hurt her too, like it had done Alex. She's already been attacked once, what if the next time... he isn't there to save her? It's his fears from home tenfold, and maybe that's what makes him overcome the initial shock of their proximity to wind his arms around her and hold on tight. "It's my job to keep you safe, Karen. My job."
no subject
"I can -"
She starts to spout off her patronizing bullshit saying that she can take care of herself, but it falls short and dies off on the tip of her tongue. Her head turns, pressing dry lips against the side of his head.
"You have kept me safe, Frank. Any time I'm in trouble, you come for me."
no subject
Frank swallows dryly even while clinging on, trying not to see what he just saw behind his eyelids play out over and over with his face buried against her. Eventually, it presses in and becomes too much and he backs off just far enough to make eye contact with her, fingers catching at her waist.
"You said we should stick together and I should've listened." He's abandoned her all over again, hasn't he? The realization isn't a kind nor easy one for him to come to terms with, but at least he's consistent. Letting his friends down, even lightyears and millennia away from home.
no subject
She doesn't have a life here. She does a good job of running around until the point of exhaustion, but any acquaintance she has is surface level at best. The friends she tells herself she has probably don't spare her a thought at the end of the day. So many times it feels like all she really has is Max, but even he's not hers. He's Frank's, and rightfully spends a lot of his time with him. She grew up telling herself that she'd make something out of herself, that her name would mean something someday.
The reality of the matter is she desperately just wants her name to matter to one person. But she can't put that on Frank. "I don't want to hold you back."
Her voice cracks and she finds herself crying, a lone tear slipping down her cheek. "But I don't want you to forget about me either."
no subject
"I'm here, Karen. I'm right here." He wipes that tear from her face with one calloused thumbpad, cupping her cheek and hanging on gently. "And as long as we've got each other, we're gonna be alright." She knows he won't allow for an alternative. Or at least, he'll do everything in his considerable power to prevent just that. Too bad this place oppresses people much stronger than him.
"How do you think I could forget about you, huh? Like anyone could forget a force of nature all her own like Karen freakin' Page."
no subject
"A force of nature that thought she did something wrong." She whispers, tipping her head to lean into his touch. It's easy for him to say that they'll stick together, and that everything will be fine as long as that happens. The reality of the matter is that actions speak louder than words, and right now her heightened emotions make everything feel magnified.
"I didn't know what to think when you weren't here." And she sure as hell doesn't now that he's in so close that she feels closer to him than she ever has anyone else. "I did what I always do. I kept going. Alone."
no subject
"It's just three decks, I was never hiding from you." He just hadn't actively sought her out or thought of including her. Maybe it was another layer to protecting her in the end. Alone. The word echoes in his ears unpleasantly; that he made Karen feel that way. Frank never put much thought into her reliance on him or that he could potentially let her down - even if it should've been on his mind here. At home, he walks in and out of her life with ease, but here... Here they're stuck together on a life raft with no oars. "I never meant..." Frank runs out of words fast, instead pressing his forehead against hers again. This seems to be a language they can both understand.
no subject
It isn't, of course, because she can't keep her mouth shut.
"I was jealous, if you can believe it." She dryly laughs at her own stupidity, but feels her throat go dry as she can't figure out if it was Frank or his new friends that she was jealous of. Maybe it doesn't really matter now. The clearing of the air is enough, it doesn't have to be a total reveal of every little thing that's on her mind or what she's feeling.
no subject
"I can't," he utters seriously against her ear, hand coming up to tangle in messy hair until his fingers reach her scalp. His own scalp tingles then - don't the kids call that ASMR? Karen should never be jealous of him, she's so much more than he's ever been. Than he ever will be again, especially. "I think it's over anyway." He means his status with the Rocis. He knows how tight-knit they are and if Amos distrusts him, surely the rest will follow. Maybe it had been a deliberate sabotage of his own happiness in the end. It's not like it would be out of character.
Frank squeezes her suddenly, his body hugging hers in a firm embrace. Would it be so bad if they fell asleep again, intertwined? As if to challenge himself and his own thoughts, Frank wedges one thick thigh between her legs, completing their meld.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, wishing he could start over here on so many levels.
no subject
"So don't be sorry. That's an order."
This more than makes up for whatever mutual distance that's been between them. It's enough to pull her back in to the edge of sleep once more, smiling contently as she shifts so her head curls in to press against his shoulder.
no subject
"Yes, ma'am," he murmurs, right on the edge of unconsciousness again.
no subject
The last thing that slowly rolls through her mind before darkness takes over is hoping that he's actually still there when she wakes up. The odds are likely they'll both sleep well into the next day, and there's no telling what mood either of them will be in when they're well rested and not so emotional.