fandomtownies | Sparky Repairs, Monday

Rosette's head tilted at the futon before she perched herself very carefully on its edge. "How many times had we had a," completely innocent, oh my God, "sleepover back here, and this is the first time I find out there's an actual bed?"

She means it as a joke, so she smiled softly. She carefully removed her gloves, looking down at John's collapsed form. She didn't know what happened that weekend, probably something to do with that Terminator guy, but she does know that he really, really is a mess. He really did need someone and, for some reason, he decided that someone was going to be her. Softly, hesitantly, Rosette placed a light hand on his head, gave his hair a series of gentle strokes. Like used to do for Joshua, when he couldn't sleep, or was having nightmares...

But this wasn't quite like how things were with Joshua, were they? At all...

John twitched a bit, looking nothing so much as a dog dreaming. He mumbled something, lost in the realm between consciousness and dreamland.

Rosette frowned down at him. Was he asleep already? What was she supposed to do now, then? She looked around the room as if she'd find her answer there, heaved a sigh when she found nothing. Well, then...Her hand left John's head as she kicked off her boots, carefully removed her veil and the hairpins holding it in place, started revoming her ammo pouches, her holster and gun, and other such things that get all pokey in sleep, and placed them in a neat little pile on the floor.

John flailed a bit, as if he was kicking someone, or fleeing, jerking his leg on the futon.

Looking up from her little pile of things, Rosette glanced at John, wondering what it was he was already dreaming of, so quickly after falling asleep. She knew her hand on his head earlier didn't seem to really help but, but she had an impulse to lean over him and give him a soft kiss on his forehead instead. Of course, if she would try, she'd probably get kicked in the face or punched by a wild limb, so she forfeited the idea as she crept around the futon to the other side of the bed, lied down, and curled up a bit.

She considered leaving. In the state he was in, would he even have remembered that she was supposed to be there? Then again, in the state he was in, what if he did and woke up and she wasn't there? So, with a sigh, she stayed, but knew she wouldn't fall asleep for a while.

In the state he's in, waking him would be a mercy, as dreams like these should never happen.

He reached out and grabbed her, in the dream and on the futon, drawing himself to her as he mumbled her name into her neck.

Eeeeeeep! So much for keeping a safe, respectable, and proper distance. Rosette resisted the urge to flail. It wasn't as if she could flail, anyway, with how she'd been snagged up, but still!

And who was Cid? And why was John muttering his name?

Rosette gulped. "Ummm...." She turned her head a little, but not too much, because John's face was right there. "John?" She nudged him, very carefully, very gently.

John mumbled something, and released his hold. Mumble. Mumblemumble. He raised his arm, grasping.

so much luff for 'setmun

After breathing a sigh of relief at the release, Rosette looked over her shoulder at him, worriedly, trying to decide. Should she wake him? Were you supposed to wake people who were having bad dreams? Or was that depremental to them? Or was that sleepwalking? Rosette was starting to wonder why she agreed to this. She couldn't handle things like this! If you couldn't fire a gun at it to solve it, it was a problem beyond her grasp...

She bit her lip, thought maybe she should at least try something. She took his grasping hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. "Hey. It'll be okay, John..."

Pssssh, that was lame. But at least she tried something.

JOhn woke up a bit. "'osette?" His eyes were watery.

Well, she was pretty sure that was her name. "Yeah...? I...I'm here, John...."

"How'd you get here? Where's Syd? Wha?" He looks around the dark room.

Oh, great...

"Calm down. Cid's not here," whoever the hell that was. "You're in the back room of Sparky's, and I'm here to make sure you're okay...."

"I'm okay." He disproves this by clinging to her, and sobbing into her neck.

The moment of shock where Rosette was unable to react was brief, and Rosette soon had her arms tightly around him, hand brushing against the back of his head again as he sobbed into her neck. She spoke softly, gently, trying not to cry herself. It always kind of made her want to cry when people around her were crying. "Shh, it's okay. It was just a bad dream, from all the stress this weekend. It's all right now..."

"She's gone, Rosette. Syd's not coming back. And Termy..." Cling.

...This whole comforting thing was a lot easier when you knew what the hell was going on. She continued the comforting motions and holding, thinking of what to say, but only coming up with a very lame, "Do you need to talk about it?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes. "Right now, less talky, more ~~nun!Sex~~ not feeling alone." He bowed his head and stopped clinging to her for dear life. Slightly.

Rosette nodded a little. "Don't worry. I'm here..."

"I'm glad you're here. I'm glad it's you." John lets go of her and lays his head on teh futon pillows. "It's been a rough couple-a days, y'know?" His forced laugh didn't really sound like anything but a bark.

Rosette surprised herself by feeling disappointed that he let her go. She blinked at John a few times before a soft, hopefully comforting smile crept on her face, and she nuzzled into the pillow a little. "Yeah. But they're over now."

"God, I hope so. Can you, y'know, make a call on your private line? Square me with him?" He grabbed the blanket and covered the two of them, his eyes red and still watery.

"Can I do what now?" If it wasn't already against the pillow, Rosette's head would have tilted.

"Say a prayer for me?" John leaned his head against hers.

"Oh!" Rosette grunted. That private line. That Him. "Y..yeah. Of course. Several of 'em, if you want." She smiled a little to hide the fact that she was thinking that she would, even if she really didn't believe in all that praying crap.

It's good to know someone with connections, and JOhn said so.
"Hey. NOt everyone gets their own personal nun to ~~snuggle~~ pray for 'em."

"Heh. Nope. Lucky you, huh?"

On the bright side, Rosette was thinking that this couldn't get any more awkward than it was at that moment.

John started drifing off again.

He mumbled something, and the middle syllable sounded an awful lot like "luff" which, of course, could only mean the platonic luff of one lost soul, drifting through the universe wherever the solar winds and whims of any higher powers would take it, for another like soul. Of course.

Sparky Repairs, Monday

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