faderift | { OPEN } catchall for the month

The month has been full of ups and downs, and when it comes to the downs, Christine finds the best thing to do is to push all thoughts of them aside to focus on more work. Therefore, she's been spending long hours in her office, leaning over paperwork of some kind and letting the fire in her fireplace burn down to embers. Releasing a sigh, she sets aside one document and picks up the next, not noticing the time or who might be coming to the door.

When Christine starts losing track of time, when she comes back home late and apologetic and distracted, she's working too hard. Working too hard usually means she's stressed out and throwing herself into something that's just as stressful if not more stressful, and it becomes a cycle for a while until she busts out of it.

Or until Church comes and busts her out of it, either way. And damn does he try. Church plucks the document from her hand and replaces it with a hot mug of tea. Places a plate of something light from the kitchen with a solid clunk down on the desk. And then he busies himself with stoking the fire back up, because there's not enough light in here and she's going to catch a death of cold and--

Sometimes he manages to be a pretty decent boyfriend, if he does say so himself. He has to wonder if this is him making up for his previous relationship, or if he's just learned enough by now to put in the effort.

"Wha--" she begins, looking up in confusion and irritation. The tea is then stared at, then the food, then Church's back as he moves away to tend to the fireplace. Her lips press into a firm line and she looks at the document he's put aside. If he's not looking she can just--

Well, no. The food smells good and it is getting too dark in here. What time is it? Picking up the fork, she brings a bite of dinner to her mouth, pausing long enough to say, "You are good to me."

He's definitely treating her better than she's treating herself right now, but there are worries on her mind. Not just professionally, but personally too. Worries she hasn't yet shared with him. She's been doing that whole "ignore the problem and bury yourself in work to forget it" solution. It's been working out so far, except when she forgets to eat.

"Meh, I try." Girls love humility, right? He finishes with the fire, more satisfied with its flame now, and moves back over to the desk.

"Also, your puppydog gets real lonesome without you. Ponce, too." Church cocks a smile at her and sits on whatever edge of the desk has the least amount of stuff on it. "What's up?"

Christine gives him a closed mouth smile as she chews. When isn't he comparing himself to an animal? At least it's not a stallion this time.

Once she swallows, she says, "I have been going through reports on red lyrium shipments. Every time one operation is shut down, it seems two more spring up in its place." Shaking her head, she pulls up another forkful of food, but holds it in mid-air as her eyes settle on Church. Christine then stays in that position: staring at him unblinkingly, fork not moving any closer to her mouth.

"Means we have a lotta little shits working against us. Maybe they have contin...gen...what?" No, that's not even her face of realization, that's just...distressingly unnatural. He waves a hand in front of her face. "Christine, hey, Earth to Chris--hey?" And a touch to her hand.

Her hand moves a little at his touch, but only from the pressure of his fingers and not her own movement. The whites of her eyes are beginning to turn pink from the air hitting them, because she still isn't blinking. She does appear to be breathing, and because of that, she's able to force out a soft little hum in the back of her throat: a sign she's conscious and can hear him, but can't move or speak herself.

Okay, so, that would be comforting except for the fact that now he's panicking because who likes the idea of being trapped in their own body? He jumps up and immediately has no idea what to do. "Okay, uh, uh, I'll go grab a healer and--" and stand around pacing with nervousness, probably.

But before he does that, he reaches over to slide her eyes shut. Like one would a corpse. And that's a pretty terrifying thought right there that he does not like at all no sir.

Another hum -- this one a little louder -- is heard from Christine's throat. Her eyelids close with Church's help, and she continues making sounds, though what she means by them is anyone's guess. However, before he can leave her to get help, whatever has caused her to freeze ends and her fork clatters across her desk as she slumps back in her chair.

Breathing hard, Christine blinks rapidly and lifts a hand, flexing her fingers in shock.

"What-- what happened? I was-- I couldn't--" She stops herself, pressing a fist to her mouth as tears form. She was trapped; caged in her own body, and it was terrifying.

"Wha-!" He's literally on the way out the door when she snaps back into being, and his heart is hammering in his chest as he rushes over and gathers her up in his arms.

"I don't know, but you're okay now, hey, what the fuck was that even about?!"

"I--" she begins, before being pulled into his arms. She clings to him tightly, relishing the ability to make herself move again.

"I stopped moving. It was beyond my control." There are tears in her eyes, but she's determined to speak now that she can. "Something strange is happening. This exact thing has never happened before, but these last few weeks I have been feeling... off. There has been a weakness in my legs at times." She lets out a shaky sigh.

"I feared I was inheriting my mother's poor health, but Faith says she can't see anything wrong with me. I do not know what to think, or what could be causing this. And now this happened and-- and what if it grows worse?"

"What--what, why didn't you tell me? Have you had anyone, y'know, actually physical check you out? Jesus, should we get you in bed? Maybe you picked some kinda, I dunno, disease up? Or, shit, could it be red lyrium related? But you're so careful about it, fuck..."

"I did not want to worry you," she replies, a little shame-faced. Plus she was afraid that she was deteriorating in her legs the way her mother has, and she would spend all her time sitting with a quilt thrown across her lap to keep her weak legs warm.

Christine sighs, because she's been frustrated by this too, but her solution had been to ignore it and throw herself into more work. Clearly, that hasn't made the problem go away.

"If a spirit who can see inside me cannot find a physical cause, then it is either buried too deep to be healed at all, or does not exist in the first place." It goes without saying that she fears it's the first option. "I do not think it red lyrium related. Faith knows what the crystals look like."

"Well, unless you're stressing yourself out so much that you're giving yourself some fucked up psychosomatic symptoms, then I dunno the hell else it could be." Yes, he knows the word psychosomatic, don't anyone faint now. "Maybe you should...take a break? Take a vacation from this stuff. I'm sure the cold's not doing you any favors anyway."

"Neither do I." Her voice sounds defeated, because she has no idea what she can do to stop this from happening again. "I am not sure if I should take a break. I will be left with nothing but my thoughts about this and wondering when the next occurrence will be. If I am keeping busy, I will not think of it as much."

"Okay." It's not okay, but if neither of them have any idea where to even start with this, then... "How about you just come home right now, though, and finish up the rest of...all this tomorrow? Cuz otherwise I'm just not gonna be able to leave you here."

Then they should simply try to go on as normal, and hope more clues arise that can lead towards a solution.

"Yes, all right. I do not think I can focus anymore tonight, and I would prefer not to be alone." In case there's another incident.

"We should tell someone. Not that I'm gonna throw shade on Faith or anything, but maybe she's wrong? And at the very least, someone should check in on you now and then."

That someone might just be him, though.

Christine hesitates, not wanting anything big to come of this, but it can't hurt to bring one more person into the fold.

"I will talk to Sam. He saw me stumble last week, but I told him it was nothing. I will let him examine me."

"Please? It'd make me feel a lot better. If it's just me, and I don't know what the fuck to do, then what if I mess something up, you know? We don't have to make a big deal of it, just...maybe it'll go away, but. Ugh. Too many unknowns."

"You would not mess anything up. I do not have to know what this is to know that." Christine brushes fingers back through his hair, torn between thinking it's a good thing he knows, and thinking it has only put a burden on him now too. She hadn't wanted him to worry about this, especially since there are so many unknowns. It will only be a frustration to them both.

"You only say that cuz I'm so cute when I look all worried." Jokes! That's the way to make it through this sudden crisis, as with any crishs. Jokes.

"Maybe just don't keep stuff like that from me in the future, okay? If you're worried about something, I wanna know. I'm your boyfriend."

Christine releases a slow breath through her nose, looking him over carefully. She knows he's trying to lighten the mood because it's how he deals with things. He shouldn't have to deal with this strange occurrence in her life.

"I suppose I thought if I could bury it deep enough, I could ignore it and it would go away. Then I would never have to worry you over nothing." She smooths a hand across his jaw. "I do not like worrying you, even if you do look cute." She swallows the lump threatening to form in her throat.

"But I will not keep things from you in the future, even if they might be nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing now. So." They say doctors make the worst patients, the same has gotta be true here. "I don't like having to worry about whether my girl's gonna freeze up in the middle of a fight or in the middle of anything, but I'd much rather worry about you than...than not know and then something happens to you and I didn't know. You know?"

It's very true in this case. She would much rather take care of others in need than admit to being in need herself. That would mean she's not perfect at all times, and Christine hates admitting to that.

"Yes," she answers, feeling rather ashamed of herself for hiding this. But she wanted it to be nothing. She has her future all planned out and though she keeps telling herself that things could happen to throw all that into an uproar, clearly she didn't believe it until now. What if she doesn't stand overlooking a scenic valley in the Frostbacks someday where she's living as an Avvar? What if she becomes bedridden and Church has to take care of her? It's a frightening thought, and one she can't allow to happen.

"I promise, I will talk to Sam tomorrow. For tonight, let's just go home."

{ OPEN } catchall for the month

{ closed to church }

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