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"With every mistake we must surely be learning" Beatles - "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"
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It had been three days since her anniversary, two days since she had hastily thrown Conrad out of her apartment. She didn't have his number and didn't want to call to the base to try and find him that way. Anyway, he probably didn't want to hear from her again. She was the psycho-moody-pitiful creature that had to be treated with kid gloves. But she wanted him to call, more than she wanted to admit.
She got up in the morning, threw on a pair of sweats and took her cane to grab some bagels at the deli a couple of doors down. It was funny, Chevy was definitely a night-dog. He hated waking up early and tried to stay nestled in his dog bed for as long as she would allow. So when she got up for breakfast, she let her strange dog nap. She let her long cane guide her out of the apartment and onto the street with ease. No streets to cross to get to the deli, so it was a very easy and pleasant walk. She had really grown to love the constant bustle of New York. It was never quiet there; even though her eyes couldn't see the people passing, she could always hear them and it helped to remind her that she was never alone.
Except for when she was alone and no one could help her and she couldn't get up and all she could think about was the crinkle of black plastic. She shuddered and paused, leaning against the wall, having lost her breath and almost any desire for breakfast with that little flashback. No one paid her any attention; this was New York after all. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to get the sounds out of her head, the smell of her own burning flesh and fluids, the intense fear that engulfed her. She fought, her hands balled into fists, trying to regain control over her mind through a force of will.
She didn't know how long she stood there, leaning on the wall and her cane for support, before she heard a breathless voice call her name from a distance, across the street perhaps. She straightened herself, trying to hear the voice better, determine whether it was friendly or hostile and where it was coming from.
"Shana! Are you alright?" It was Conrad, she could hear it clearly, as clearly as she could hear the concern in his voice.
She opened her mouth to rudely tell him off to cover her own fear, and then closed it again, trying to follow through on what her therapist had spoken to her about. When she still didn't respond, she could hear his movements as he moved to look behind her to check for wounds or threats and she assumed he then started scanning the environment for something wrong.
"Shana?" Now his voice was a little unsure, wondering if perhaps his presence was causing her continued troubles. "I was out doing PT. I saw you and thought you were in trouble..." He trailed off and she could hear that he turned his head away from her at the end.
A moment more, then she found her voice; as weak as it was, it was better than nothing. "It's not your fault." She let out a deep breath slowly. "I'm sorry." Now she was just whispering, berating herself internally for her fear and weakness, more so for showing it to someone who knew her. Part of her mind tried to reason that it was normal and Conrad would understand, but that other part had so much more power, she had given it free reign for too long. She turned abruptly and starting almost running back to her apartment, not the wisest idea considering she was only caning.
Fate perhaps had pity on her and all obstacles were either detected or moved themselves out of the way as she plunged headlong down the sidewalk. She arrived back at her apartment, fishing out her keys to retreat to the safety of her haven. "Shana...Wait. Please?" Conrad still. Of course, who really thought that she could outrun him; that had been a stupid idea.
Her hand hesitated as it turned the key. She stepped in without saying anything, but held the door open so he could follow her in. She felt the resistance of the door lessen as he took it and walked in, staying silent for now at least. She unlocked the door to her apartment and let him enter first, closing the door and engaging the many locks carefully. With the door closed the silence was broken as they spoke at the same time, "I'm sorry."
"No Shana," Conrad's voice overrode her attempt at an apology, "I'm sorry about the other night. It was inappropriate and I wasn't trying to take advantage of you or anything like that. I just...I wanted to make it better. I'm sorry for making it worse."
Shana set her cane down, scratching Chevy's ears as he padded up to greet her. "Don't be. I wasn't mad about that. I should be thanking you for that. I needed the sleep - without the nightmares." She retreated to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. "I just don't like to be seen as weak."
She didn't expect to hear the chuckle from Conrad after she said that. "You are not weak Shana. You may have weaknesses, but so does everyone else. I just could never picture you as weak." Another chuckle as he took the glass from her.
She smiled tentatively, "Really? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?" She winked conspiratorially, which was an eerie gesture considering the faux eyes. "By the way, it is working." They moved to sit down on the couch together so they could more easily talk.
She felt a hand move slowly over her own, giving it a gentle squeeze then quickly retreating, "I mean it Shana. The fact that you are alive at all and living just like you were before is amazing." She heard sincerity in his voice, but she bristled anyway, feeling suddenly like the cute little puppy that learned to roll over.
Her voice hardened a bit, "It's not a big deal." She bit back the urge to say something sharp to him as well, trying to reign in her hostility as best she could.
There was a pause, "It is a big deal and could you for just for a little while talk to me without trying to prove you are superwoman or something?"
Defensive about her behavior, she quickly countered, "Well, can you stop feeling sorry for me and thinking of me as some stupid cripple?"
"I don't feel sorry for you Shana. Correction, I am sorry that you had to go through what you did. I am sorry that the recovery has made you feel like you have something to prove to everyone. I am sorry that I don't get to see you every day at work. But you seem to have bounced back and made a new life for yourself, something I'm not sure I could do if I went through what you did." She tried to think of a way to counter his words and could feel a blush rising to her cheeks at the praise. His voice dropped a little, softening the impact of his next words, "You have nothing to prove to me or anyone else. Just yourself and I think you are doing a damn fine job of it from my perspective."
She mumbled, "Thank you." She tried to accept his words at face value. She was so used to looking for insults, patronizing tones and condescension, she was having a hard time just believing him. Another pause and she took a small step to trusting him, "Flashbacks. I still get them. I'm fine then...I'm not."
"I was worried about you. What kind of protection do you have out here?" She could hear the concern, and amazingly, not pity, just the same concern he always had for his friends. "Cobra is still out there."
She shivered and a small muscle below her right eye twitched, "I know. HE is still out there. I think that contributes to my panic attacks sometimes." She shrugged it off, "But, as for protection, not too much besides flying under the radar. That and myself." She smiled slyly as she spoke, "I was a fair blind fighter before. I've improved a lot." She spoke with more confidence than she felt; it was one thing to spar and train, another to be in an attack situation with stress. She wasn't sure she could withstand that again.
He chuckled seeing her smile, sensing a bit of her apprehension about a combat situation, but also having a lot of faith in her instincts. "Likely the flying under the radar will be the most effective. You'll always be one of the team, so we'll always be around if you ever need us." He reached over touched her shoulder gently to punctuate the sentiment.
Shana nodded with a faint smile, "Thank you, that's nice of you to say, especially after the hell I put a lot of you through afterwards."
"Forget about it. I think everyone understands and I know they don't hold a grudge. You should come back and visit sometimes. I think you'd be surprised how happy everyone would be to see you. Especially Allie."
"Maybe," she said non-committally. "I'll think about it."
"Please do. I have to go back to base tomorrow, if you want to come with me for a visit, it could be arranged." She liked the sincerity in his tone and again felt surprised and relieved that he seemed to be talking to just Shana, not the Blind Woman. The Blind Woman had to be coddled and tiptoed around, she had to be helped with everything she did in her life because she was incapable, from making her own food to making her own friends. Shana hated the Blind Woman and hated when anyone treated her like she was that cripple. "I bet Chevalier would have a ball with Junkyard and Timber if you gave him the time off." She grinned at that thought and knew he was too.
She inhaled deeply, "Alright. You convinced me. If it isn't a bother, I'm come over and visit for a couple of hours."
She was unexpectedly wrapped into a tender hug, "I'm glad Shana, you won't regret it."
Despite her shock at the hug, she responded in kind, inhaling lightly the scent of his cologne, enjoying the feel of his arms around her again. She didn't want to admit how much that night they slept with him holding her had really awakened her need for physical contact again. She realized how painfully lonely she was much of the time, despite Chevy's best attempts at comfort. "I hope not. If I do, I'm blaming you." She smiled as she felt the low chuckle rumbling in Conrad's chest.
They spent the rest of the day just talking like normal people, chatting and rekindling their friendship. In the back of her head though, Shana was worried about the coming trip to base. Most people she trusted Conrad's estimation that they would welcome her back, but she hadn't spoke to Snake Eyes since leaving the hospital. She prayed for strength to get through the confrontation she was fairly certain was coming.
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"With every mistake we must surely be learning" Beatles - "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"
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It had been three days since her anniversary, two days since she had hastily thrown Conrad out of her apartment. She didn't have his number and didn't want to call to the base to try and find him that way. Anyway, he probably didn't want to hear from her again. She was the psycho-moody-pitiful creature that had to be treated with kid gloves. But she wanted him to call, more than she wanted to admit.
She got up in the morning, threw on a pair of sweats and took her cane to grab some bagels at the deli a couple of doors down. It was funny, Chevy was definitely a night-dog. He hated waking up early and tried to stay nestled in his dog bed for as long as she would allow. So when she got up for breakfast, she let her strange dog nap. She let her long cane guide her out of the apartment and onto the street with ease. No streets to cross to get to the deli, so it was a very easy and pleasant walk. She had really grown to love the constant bustle of New York. It was never quiet there; even though her eyes couldn't see the people passing, she could always hear them and it helped to remind her that she was never alone.
Except for when she was alone and no one could help her and she couldn't get up and all she could think about was the crinkle of black plastic. She shuddered and paused, leaning against the wall, having lost her breath and almost any desire for breakfast with that little flashback. No one paid her any attention; this was New York after all. She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to get the sounds out of her head, the smell of her own burning flesh and fluids, the intense fear that engulfed her. She fought, her hands balled into fists, trying to regain control over her mind through a force of will.
She didn't know how long she stood there, leaning on the wall and her cane for support, before she heard a breathless voice call her name from a distance, across the street perhaps. She straightened herself, trying to hear the voice better, determine whether it was friendly or hostile and where it was coming from.
"Shana! Are you alright?" It was Conrad, she could hear it clearly, as clearly as she could hear the concern in his voice.
She opened her mouth to rudely tell him off to cover her own fear, and then closed it again, trying to follow through on what her therapist had spoken to her about. When she still didn't respond, she could hear his movements as he moved to look behind her to check for wounds or threats and she assumed he then started scanning the environment for something wrong.
"Shana?" Now his voice was a little unsure, wondering if perhaps his presence was causing her continued troubles. "I was out doing PT. I saw you and thought you were in trouble..." He trailed off and she could hear that he turned his head away from her at the end.
A moment more, then she found her voice; as weak as it was, it was better than nothing. "It's not your fault." She let out a deep breath slowly. "I'm sorry." Now she was just whispering, berating herself internally for her fear and weakness, more so for showing it to someone who knew her. Part of her mind tried to reason that it was normal and Conrad would understand, but that other part had so much more power, she had given it free reign for too long. She turned abruptly and starting almost running back to her apartment, not the wisest idea considering she was only caning.
Fate perhaps had pity on her and all obstacles were either detected or moved themselves out of the way as she plunged headlong down the sidewalk. She arrived back at her apartment, fishing out her keys to retreat to the safety of her haven. "Shana...Wait. Please?" Conrad still. Of course, who really thought that she could outrun him; that had been a stupid idea.
Her hand hesitated as it turned the key. She stepped in without saying anything, but held the door open so he could follow her in. She felt the resistance of the door lessen as he took it and walked in, staying silent for now at least. She unlocked the door to her apartment and let him enter first, closing the door and engaging the many locks carefully. With the door closed the silence was broken as they spoke at the same time, "I'm sorry."
"No Shana," Conrad's voice overrode her attempt at an apology, "I'm sorry about the other night. It was inappropriate and I wasn't trying to take advantage of you or anything like that. I just...I wanted to make it better. I'm sorry for making it worse."
Shana set her cane down, scratching Chevy's ears as he padded up to greet her. "Don't be. I wasn't mad about that. I should be thanking you for that. I needed the sleep - without the nightmares." She retreated to the kitchen to get two glasses of water. "I just don't like to be seen as weak."
She didn't expect to hear the chuckle from Conrad after she said that. "You are not weak Shana. You may have weaknesses, but so does everyone else. I just could never picture you as weak." Another chuckle as he took the glass from her.
She smiled tentatively, "Really? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?" She winked conspiratorially, which was an eerie gesture considering the faux eyes. "By the way, it is working." They moved to sit down on the couch together so they could more easily talk.
She felt a hand move slowly over her own, giving it a gentle squeeze then quickly retreating, "I mean it Shana. The fact that you are alive at all and living just like you were before is amazing." She heard sincerity in his voice, but she bristled anyway, feeling suddenly like the cute little puppy that learned to roll over.
Her voice hardened a bit, "It's not a big deal." She bit back the urge to say something sharp to him as well, trying to reign in her hostility as best she could.
There was a pause, "It is a big deal and could you for just for a little while talk to me without trying to prove you are superwoman or something?"
Defensive about her behavior, she quickly countered, "Well, can you stop feeling sorry for me and thinking of me as some stupid cripple?"
"I don't feel sorry for you Shana. Correction, I am sorry that you had to go through what you did. I am sorry that the recovery has made you feel like you have something to prove to everyone. I am sorry that I don't get to see you every day at work. But you seem to have bounced back and made a new life for yourself, something I'm not sure I could do if I went through what you did." She tried to think of a way to counter his words and could feel a blush rising to her cheeks at the praise. His voice dropped a little, softening the impact of his next words, "You have nothing to prove to me or anyone else. Just yourself and I think you are doing a damn fine job of it from my perspective."
She mumbled, "Thank you." She tried to accept his words at face value. She was so used to looking for insults, patronizing tones and condescension, she was having a hard time just believing him. Another pause and she took a small step to trusting him, "Flashbacks. I still get them. I'm fine then...I'm not."
"I was worried about you. What kind of protection do you have out here?" She could hear the concern, and amazingly, not pity, just the same concern he always had for his friends. "Cobra is still out there."
She shivered and a small muscle below her right eye twitched, "I know. HE is still out there. I think that contributes to my panic attacks sometimes." She shrugged it off, "But, as for protection, not too much besides flying under the radar. That and myself." She smiled slyly as she spoke, "I was a fair blind fighter before. I've improved a lot." She spoke with more confidence than she felt; it was one thing to spar and train, another to be in an attack situation with stress. She wasn't sure she could withstand that again.
He chuckled seeing her smile, sensing a bit of her apprehension about a combat situation, but also having a lot of faith in her instincts. "Likely the flying under the radar will be the most effective. You'll always be one of the team, so we'll always be around if you ever need us." He reached over touched her shoulder gently to punctuate the sentiment.
Shana nodded with a faint smile, "Thank you, that's nice of you to say, especially after the hell I put a lot of you through afterwards."
"Forget about it. I think everyone understands and I know they don't hold a grudge. You should come back and visit sometimes. I think you'd be surprised how happy everyone would be to see you. Especially Allie."
"Maybe," she said non-committally. "I'll think about it."
"Please do. I have to go back to base tomorrow, if you want to come with me for a visit, it could be arranged." She liked the sincerity in his tone and again felt surprised and relieved that he seemed to be talking to just Shana, not the Blind Woman. The Blind Woman had to be coddled and tiptoed around, she had to be helped with everything she did in her life because she was incapable, from making her own food to making her own friends. Shana hated the Blind Woman and hated when anyone treated her like she was that cripple. "I bet Chevalier would have a ball with Junkyard and Timber if you gave him the time off." She grinned at that thought and knew he was too.
She inhaled deeply, "Alright. You convinced me. If it isn't a bother, I'm come over and visit for a couple of hours."
She was unexpectedly wrapped into a tender hug, "I'm glad Shana, you won't regret it."
Despite her shock at the hug, she responded in kind, inhaling lightly the scent of his cologne, enjoying the feel of his arms around her again. She didn't want to admit how much that night they slept with him holding her had really awakened her need for physical contact again. She realized how painfully lonely she was much of the time, despite Chevy's best attempts at comfort. "I hope not. If I do, I'm blaming you." She smiled as she felt the low chuckle rumbling in Conrad's chest.
They spent the rest of the day just talking like normal people, chatting and rekindling their friendship. In the back of her head though, Shana was worried about the coming trip to base. Most people she trusted Conrad's estimation that they would welcome her back, but she hadn't spoke to Snake Eyes since leaving the hospital. She prayed for strength to get through the confrontation she was fairly certain was coming.