Soma closed her eyes as Lingormr put the device away and tried to focus on her breathing. Now that the bulk of the anesthetic effect had faded, the sheer enormity of what had just happened was finally beginning to catch up with her.
It was true, she had always been the type to act first and think later, but that had generally been limited to charging headfirst into battle and leaving it to the lieutenant colonel to actually talk tactics. Persuading a trusted friend to perform makeshift abdominal surgery on her was something else entirely. She was suddenly grateful for the anesthesia, for having been mostly spared that trauma. Lingormr hadn't been that lucky, and all of this must have seemed terribly foreign to him, on top of everything else.
She tried to think of something else to talk about, something more reassuring, but her brain was still refusing to cooperate. All that was coming to mind was the image of Lingormr on his feet in the visitors' room, shouting at a tall blond man with a rage and a hurt she'd never seen in his eyes before. Even in her drugged state, she knew that was a conversation neither of them would want to have right now.
Lingormr returned then, sitting down beside her, and she responded to his comment with a faint noise of assent, her eyes still mostly closed. After a moment, she felt a gentle pressure against her forehead, Lingormr's fingers surprisingly cool as he brushed her hair back. Simple as the gesture was, she felt the beginnings of tears prickle at her eyes. She hadn't had time to think about how scared she was, either.
"I mean it," she said quietly. "Thank you. When we get out...my world's not perfect. But it's better than most."
And considering what he'd done for her, he'd always have a place at their house, she wanted to add. But she didn't have the energy to say it, and she wasn't sure how he'd react, either.
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It was true, she had always been the type to act first and think later, but that had generally been limited to charging headfirst into battle and leaving it to the lieutenant colonel to actually talk tactics. Persuading a trusted friend to perform makeshift abdominal surgery on her was something else entirely. She was suddenly grateful for the anesthesia, for having been mostly spared that trauma. Lingormr hadn't been that lucky, and all of this must have seemed terribly foreign to him, on top of everything else.
She tried to think of something else to talk about, something more reassuring, but her brain was still refusing to cooperate. All that was coming to mind was the image of Lingormr on his feet in the visitors' room, shouting at a tall blond man with a rage and a hurt she'd never seen in his eyes before. Even in her drugged state, she knew that was a conversation neither of them would want to have right now.
Lingormr returned then, sitting down beside her, and she responded to his comment with a faint noise of assent, her eyes still mostly closed. After a moment, she felt a gentle pressure against her forehead, Lingormr's fingers surprisingly cool as he brushed her hair back. Simple as the gesture was, she felt the beginnings of tears prickle at her eyes. She hadn't had time to think about how scared she was, either.
"I mean it," she said quietly. "Thank you. When we get out...my world's not perfect. But it's better than most."
And considering what he'd done for her, he'd always have a place at their house, she wanted to add. But she didn't have the energy to say it, and she wasn't sure how he'd react, either.