Of Aspirins And 'It'll Go Away's
A.N.: Because this just popped into my head one day. And because I ship these two so hard, so I had to put them in a fic together (except my muse decided I was not worth her time, so I had to settle on friendship, ugh).
At first, it's not that big of a deal.
She doesn't notice it, really; she's stuck in the woods with a grouchy hooker and, honestly, there are more important things for her to worry about right now.
She feels a stab of pain somewhere in the middle of all the bickering - like her brain squeezed and then relaxed again - and she really doesn't think much of it. Maybe it's a migraine. Or maybe she just hit her head a little harder than she thought. She might even just be imagining it. So she just closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and continues walking.
It'll go away.
She's sitting at her desk, her eyes set on the computer screen in front of her filled with phone numbers and bank account statements.
She thinks it's because of the hours she spent in front of that damned thing. Or because she didn't really sleep for the last week.
Yeah, that has to be it.
She opens her desk drawer and takes a bottle of aspirin. She takes one - no, wait, two'll do the trick - and downes the pills with cold tea. She sets the cup back down, making a mental note to fix more before Jane starts complaining, and looks back up at the screen. The words are fuzzy for a moment because of the screen's brightness, but her eyes get used to it quickly.
Out of the corner of her eye she sees Cho looking at her over his book. He doesn't have to say anything for her to know he's wondering what's wrong. He doesn't even have to lift an eyebrow or incline his head to the side. When she gets back to her work, ignoring him, he just shrugs and goes back to his book.
It's not a big deal, really.
It'll go away.
He searches his pockets in a rush.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Front pockets, back pockets. Inner pockets. Top desk drawers, lower desk drawers. Inner pockets.
He takes in a sharp breath as a lightening of pain goes up his spine, "Van Pelt?", he says slowly and as she turns around she looks at him, a soft expression on her face.
"Yeah, Cho?"
"Do you have any aspirin?"
The light smile disappears from her face as she reaches for her top shelf. The bottle in there's empty and she curses under her breath. She goes to her bag and sighs when she finds a half-full bottle.
"Here you go.", she says as she throws it to him. He catches it with one hand and flinches.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Like someone's hitting his spine with a baseball bat.
"Thanks.", he says simply, opening the orange bottle, and swallows the pills with some coffee.
He grabs the bottle - tenth? eleventh? fifteenth? she lost count on how many she bought - out of her hand as she goes to open the top. She looks at him slowly, trying to figure out what he wants.
He's always been hard to figure out.
"You'll ruin your liver.", he says and throws the aspirins in the trash bin.
She laughs, "Not before you ruin yours.", she turns her body to face him, "Those are just aspirins. What are you on? Vicodin?"
He says nothing but just looks at her and she feels like she's under a microscope, "My head hurts.", she blurts out and it's like weight has been lifted off her shoulders. He curtly nods and continues walking towards her car. He sits at the driver's seat and she tosses him the keys.
A part of her is angry because he doesn't say anything.
Dum. Dum. Dum.
It's like someone's playing the drums on her head.
She puts one hand to the her left temple and uses the other to open the glove compartment of her car - she doesn't give a damn about ruining her liver. She takes the bottle of aspirin pills she keeps there and opens them, taking two and swallowing them dry.
She puts the bottle back to the glove compartment with the empty ones - she just keeps throwing new bottles in, forgetting about them - and realises she has to make another trip to the pharmacy. This bottle's down to three.
She leans back in the car seat and closes her eyes for a moment, concentrating on her breathing and trying to tune out the pain. The beating of the drums.
She opens her eyes and looks ahead of her, her eyes focused at the big house at the end of the street. She feels his eyes on her and tries to ignore them again, just like she's trying to ignore the pain in her head.
Migraine. It's a migraine. A migraine that'll disappear if she just takes enough aspirin.
He looks away again and she sighs in relief and searches the street with her eyes again, not really looking as she can still feel the slight drumming in her head. A faint one, but still there. She massages her temples with her hands, touching the skin lightly and making circles.
He looks at her again and her fingers are still drawing circles on her temples, but she puts her hands down quickly, as if she's five again and has been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"My back hurts.", he says bluntly, and looks away. He doesn't judge her, she realises that and she shakes her head lightly.
She looks at him, now, and he's the one staring in front of him, eyes locked on the house at the end of the street. She remembers the accident and all the jumps and dives he had to do after it, like he was supposed to forget about the pain and move on as if nothing happened.
She lightly moves her hand towards his and it lingers above it for a while before she puts it down on his. His skin is warm and gentle and she holds his hand tightly.
It'll go away.
"I won't say anything if you don't."
"Okay."
"Cho?"
"Yeah?"
"I'll stop if you do."
Dum. Dum. Dum. Like someone's playing the drums on her head.
She doesn't reach for the glove compartment.
Bam. Bam. Bam. Like he's being hit in the spine with a baseball bat.
He doesn't search his pockets.