Playing with other people's toys always was more fun…
Olivia sat in her office, with her head cradled in her hands. With eyes closed, she stroked through her hair with a clawed right hand, slowly scraping fingernails over her scalp, in a futile attempt to sooth and relieve some of the tension she felt building within her skull. 'Oh please, not now. Not again' she thought idly.
Paper work was not her friend. Working on her report from their recently closed case, she had been reading through and collating all the information they had collected during the course of their investigation, for hours. Something she had done hundreds of times before, and while she was both comfortable with and good at it, this was an aspect of her job which she often found frustrating, not to mention ridiculously time consuming. What time was it even?
Now she had other complicating factors, which contributed to make this most mundane of tasks even more tedious. Under normal circumstances the process would have been fuelled by caffeine. Black coffee, thick and sweet, delivering both comfort and energy, but not anymore. In truth with a migraine threatening she would have stopped anyhow, not that starting was an option in the first place.
Olivia turned her attention back to the screen, she attempted to push on, wanting to put this case, the whole nasty charade, behind her. Foolish? Perhaps, but still she didn't want to feel like she was being handicapped in any way, even though she now clearly was.
After only fifteen more minutes the first flickers at the very peripheries of her vision became apparent, tiny dancing grains of static fuzz. Then she knew that she was beaten, no way back, a full-blown migraine was apparent, inevitable and would come on fast. Of course she's had them before and had managed them with medication, which this time of course was not a viable option.
Olivia sighed heavily, a mixture of frustration and discomfort from a rapidly stiffening neck. She saved her work and shut down her laptop before stuffing it in her bag, everything else could wait; now there was only one thing she could do. Head home and sleep.
She slowly rose from her desk, then gingerly walked to the door separating her office from the lab. Conversation with anyone right now was too taxing a prospect to deal with, but she needed to let Walter and Astrid know she was headed out and why.
An explanation it seemed was not needed. Walter glanced up as she exited, concern clouding his eyes as he watched her taking extra care not to bang the door as she closed it after herself, not to mention her strange gait as she stalked towards his work station. "Olivia dear, are you OK? You look awfully pale." His tone oddly restrained and most un-Walter like.
Olivia grimaced and stroked her forehead just above her right eye lightly. "Not really, no" she croaked, the sound of her own voice much too loud inside her head. Astrid had noticed too and was looking similarly worried. "A migraine?" she asked.
"Yeah." Olivia whispered, "I need to go home". Short answers were all she could muster, but were all that were needed. Working together for so long had given them all experience and insight into each other's nuances, this was no exception.
"I'll drive you." Astrid offered immediately, already grabbing her jacket and keys, she also took Olivia's bag from her. The lack of a protest was a testament to how bad she really was feeling. "Thanks" Olivia offered weakly.
"Will Peter be home when you get there?" Walter enquired.
"I don't think so, he's book hunting at Markham's"
"He'll be quite some time then." he nodded, the man's business hours were anything but regular. "If there's anything you need, do call Olivia."
"I will." She assured him.
"Feel better soon dear." Walter called gently as Astrid held the door for her.
Astrid drove mercifully smoothly, allowing Olivia to simply close her eyes and try to relax. The journey still felt agonisingly long, though thanks to light, late traffic it had taken just twenty minutes. The proximity to the lab was one of the reasons she and Peter had chosen this house. Astrid eased the SUV to a stop, but Olivia didn't move. "You're home" she said quietly "anything you need, a hand getting in?"
Olivia shook her head in agonising slow motion, regretting the attempt instantly. "I'll be fine. Just need sleep." Astrid nodded her understanding, though feeling bad for her stoically suffering boss, she knew how bad Olivia had to be feeling at that moment, but also knew she was doing the best thing. Finally summoning up enough energy, Olivia took her bag, opened her door and slid from the leather seat to begin the torturous walk up the path.
Everything assaulted her senses, a barking dog in the distance felt like a pneumatic drill on her eardrums and the usually enjoyable scent of the night blooming Jasmine on the trellis next to her front door was enough to cause a wave of nausea to rear up and wash over her. She swallowed thickly while fumbling with stupidly unresponsive fingers for the keys in her jacket pocket.
Her hand trembled as she brought her key to the lock, easing it into the slot in what felt like comic action slow motion. She sighed in relief as she felt the latch lift allowing her in. She became aware that it was only then Astrid pulled away from the kerb, having watched her all the way to the door and for that she was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude, which brought unexpected tears to her eyes.
'Jesus' she thought 'what the hell is wrong with me?' She knew of course, exhaustion, caffeine withdrawal, the migraine, oh yeah and a tiny life making a home low in her abdomen, causing her hormone levels to spike and create a raging, swirling torrent within her.
Bringing her emotions under control, she detoured to the kitchen for a bottle of water, half of which she drank while basking in the cool of the open fridge, she then grabbed an ice pack placing it to her throbbing right eye, feeling some of the tension being relieved almost instantaneously.
She trudged up the stairs, the siren call of her bed irresistible and the pull of sleep already tugging at her thoughts as she dumped her jacket on the floor. Through habit or muscle memory more than conscious thought, she stowed her weapon and badge safely, before stripping from her remaining clothes. Peter had left a t-shirt in the hamper, which she now retrieved and pulled on gratefully.
Surrounded by his comforting scent and finally, their bed she flicked off the light and snuggled down with her ice pack, waiting for sleep to claim her. Her thoughts spiralled as she sunk down lower towards welcome quiescence, slowing and becoming disjointed, but with unwavering focus on only one thing; her baby safely stowed in her belly. For them she would willingly endure anything, without complaint, so long as they remained safe and protected within her for the next 27 weeks. She knew they were now fully formed, just the growing left to do. 'Hard part's over baby,' she thought with the semblance of a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth. 'Hard part's over.' and with that Olivia Dunham dove below the surface of consciousness and into sleep at last.
