( felicity swears as she lets the man sit down- or rather, places him into a sitting position, given how he crumbles once they're safe. kicking the door closed, she breathes in, out, and in again. too many things run through her head; too many ideas scattered.
if he's injured, she'll need to take care of that- there's a first aid kit at the front desk, thankfully, but it might not be enough. but mostly, she thinks she needs to pull him back to reality. crouching in front of him, felicity speaks firmly but gently. )
It sucks, doesn't it? What those things do to your head. Think you can breathe in on ten counts?
no subject
if he's injured, she'll need to take care of that- there's a first aid kit at the front desk, thankfully, but it might not be enough. but mostly, she thinks she needs to pull him back to reality. crouching in front of him, felicity speaks firmly but gently. )
It sucks, doesn't it? What those things do to your head. Think you can breathe in on ten counts?