Sensory Overload
Her eyes burned, yet she wouldn't let herself fall asleep. The pain, while intense, was not altogether unbearable and she had made a promise to herself and more importantly, to Mulder.
She could do this.
She had to do this.
Blinking furiously, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. A little pressure was relieved. She settled her gaze back on the blaring television set.
The lines blurred into each other immediately and even after forcing her mind to interpret more clearly the scene playing out in front of her, she found that she couldn't grasp the whole concept.
The pictures while helpful were quite difficult to comprehend without the words being properly digested. She was on a sensory overload.
Giving up on the TV, she turned wearily to Mulder.
"Hey, are you still up?" she whispered, reaching over to run a hand through his mussed up hair.
No answer.
"Mulder?"
Nothing.
She could barely make out the top of his head from the pillows he'd piled around himself and so gently removed one, two, three of them.
"I guess you've fallen asleep," she sighed. "Typical."
She muted the TV and shifted into a more comfortable position, careful not to disturb him. "Goodnight, Mulder."
fin.