Title: What goes down, must come up.
Author: Jodie
Email: jod21@tstt.net.tt
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: They're not mine Joss owns em I only play with em.
Spoilers: Epiphany. If u haven't seen it, u can't read this cuz it won't make sense *S*
Summary: Lil explanation for the curative powers of a shower
Feedback: Pleeeeeeease oh please oh please! I promise to love u forever if u do *S*
"Yeah, okay, that's it. Come on, cough." Angel urged his eyes slipping closed gratefully as Kate stirred under the spray of the shower, coughing heartily to expel the water from the back of her throat. He allowed her to collapse against him for a few seconds resting his cheek against the crown of her head, incredulous he'd actually gotten here in time. "That's right. Cough it all out." He whispered stroking her wet back. Finally she gave a weak shiver and went still in his arms slipping back into unconsciousness it seemed.
Shit! Couldn't allow that.
What to do now? What to do now? Then he spied the toilet against the far wall. Pulling her out of the shower stall and across to the toilet, he dropped to his knees urging her down next to him.
"Kate! Kate!" He shook her roughly. "Kate! Wake up! No, don't go back to sleep on me! Come on, get up!" He urged. "Kate you have to throw up those pills you swallowed! Kate! Are you listening to me!" He turned her to face him and found no recognition in her heavy lidded blue eyes, as a matter of fact she looked like she was about to pass out again.
Bracing her with one hand he took the fingers of the other and pried open her mouth, sticking the fingers as far back as they would go, wiggling them around until her gag reflex kicked in and she choked, then lurched forward vomiting again, and again and again. Through it all, he stayed with her holding back her wet hair and rubbing her back until finally she collapsed against the wall on the opposite side of the toilet, head between her knees taking deep breaths trying to stave off the sobs that she was sure would soon be forthcoming now that there was nothing left to throw up.
He got up then and she snorted to herself in her head. There you had it. Once the crisis was averted, wham, he was off again. Not a word, nothing until the next crisis or the next time he needed information from her which considering her current fired status with the police force would be sometime after hell froze over again. She blinked furiously to clear her eyes and ignored the lancing pain that shot through her ribs each time she breathed in deeply until finally she felt in control enough to lift her head without the room spinning or feeling the need to puke again. And when she did, she found him standing there, wet washcloth in hand. She accepted the little aquamarine towel mutely and wiped her mouth, folded it and ran it across her forehead, which was glistening with sweat. She tried to rise to her feet and was surprised to find the world spinning again. And again he was there, hand on her elbow, the other slipping around her waist steadying her as she walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet, rinsing out the last vestiges of the bitter taste of tablets and vodka and bile going down and coming back up.
She pulled away from him after splashing her face with a few handfuls of icy cold water and turned towards her bedroom, tripping over her own feet halfway there and yet again he caught her. Releasing her to the privacy of her room once they reached the door he leaned against the wall outside it and let his chin drop to his chest, listening for sounds of distress from inside.
Author: Jodie
Email: jod21@tstt.net.tt
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: They're not mine Joss owns em I only play with em.
Spoilers: Epiphany. If u haven't seen it, u can't read this cuz it won't make sense *S*
Summary: Lil explanation for the curative powers of a shower
Feedback: Pleeeeeeease oh please oh please! I promise to love u forever if u do *S*
"Yeah, okay, that's it. Come on, cough." Angel urged his eyes slipping closed gratefully as Kate stirred under the spray of the shower, coughing heartily to expel the water from the back of her throat. He allowed her to collapse against him for a few seconds resting his cheek against the crown of her head, incredulous he'd actually gotten here in time. "That's right. Cough it all out." He whispered stroking her wet back. Finally she gave a weak shiver and went still in his arms slipping back into unconsciousness it seemed.
Shit! Couldn't allow that.
What to do now? What to do now? Then he spied the toilet against the far wall. Pulling her out of the shower stall and across to the toilet, he dropped to his knees urging her down next to him.
"Kate! Kate!" He shook her roughly. "Kate! Wake up! No, don't go back to sleep on me! Come on, get up!" He urged. "Kate you have to throw up those pills you swallowed! Kate! Are you listening to me!" He turned her to face him and found no recognition in her heavy lidded blue eyes, as a matter of fact she looked like she was about to pass out again.
Bracing her with one hand he took the fingers of the other and pried open her mouth, sticking the fingers as far back as they would go, wiggling them around until her gag reflex kicked in and she choked, then lurched forward vomiting again, and again and again. Through it all, he stayed with her holding back her wet hair and rubbing her back until finally she collapsed against the wall on the opposite side of the toilet, head between her knees taking deep breaths trying to stave off the sobs that she was sure would soon be forthcoming now that there was nothing left to throw up.
He got up then and she snorted to herself in her head. There you had it. Once the crisis was averted, wham, he was off again. Not a word, nothing until the next crisis or the next time he needed information from her which considering her current fired status with the police force would be sometime after hell froze over again. She blinked furiously to clear her eyes and ignored the lancing pain that shot through her ribs each time she breathed in deeply until finally she felt in control enough to lift her head without the room spinning or feeling the need to puke again. And when she did, she found him standing there, wet washcloth in hand. She accepted the little aquamarine towel mutely and wiped her mouth, folded it and ran it across her forehead, which was glistening with sweat. She tried to rise to her feet and was surprised to find the world spinning again. And again he was there, hand on her elbow, the other slipping around her waist steadying her as she walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet, rinsing out the last vestiges of the bitter taste of tablets and vodka and bile going down and coming back up.
She pulled away from him after splashing her face with a few handfuls of icy cold water and turned towards her bedroom, tripping over her own feet halfway there and yet again he caught her. Releasing her to the privacy of her room once they reached the door he leaned against the wall outside it and let his chin drop to his chest, listening for sounds of distress from inside.