The Sad Blanket Tour [Open]

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and whoever else wants to join in
What| Those last two missions were terrible, and Wash is checking in on his friends to make sure they're okay and nudge them in that direction if they're not
Where| All over the ship
When| After Silent Horizon and No Sanity Clause; the rest of the afternoon/evening after Kid Q's briefing
Warnings/Notes| This is mostly for Wash's extant CR, but I'm absolutely down for him meeting new people. He's not going to turn anyone away right now, after all. Also, behold the mighty planning spreadsheet.

It has been, to put it lightly, a shitty day.

They'd beaten the Joker but lost one of their own. Half the team had been through what sounded like literal hell. Clown in a fridge victory aside, things hadn't gone well for anyone.

So, once Wash had gotten himself out of medical with a promise not to do anything strenuous until he'd healed completely, he'd hunted down as many blankets as he could find and gone looking for his teammates. He couldn't fix what had happened, but at least he could try to help.

Comments

[unrecovered]

Wash blinks and looks up at Chief. It's odd to have specific, explicit permission to be human. To come to someone that he hasn't known for years and still trusts enough to admit that he's not okay and ask for what he needs. To have someone offer it, no strings attached. It's freeing and terrifying all at once, and he's not sure what to do with that.

He's still processing when Chief follows it up, and he breathes a weak, helpless laugh, so short it almost stops before it starts. "Around here, I'm usually in medical when the dust settles. I don't get started until after they let me out." In this case, getting started trying to put people's lives back together, because the last thing they need is to end up like him.

Anything that might have been good humor fades, and he tugs at the blanket again. This is why he went looking for Chief in the first place - because he's exhausted, because he's done too much today, because he's seen his friends as wrecks of their usual selves, because he's worn himself out and left himself feeling small and weak and fragile-

But he has permission now, and Chief's arm is still up on the couch.

He scoots over, closing the gap between them before he can change his mind (because, despite everything, that's still a possibility), and after a moment, he leans against Chief's side. Chief isn't Maine - he's bigger and built differently and sane and still here - and that's going to take some getting used to, but for now...

For now, Wash can allow himself to feel small and fragile and weak, because right here and now, he also feels safe. That's a feeling that's been hard to come by over the past few years of his life.

A quiet "thank you" is all he can manage. Hopefully that's enough.

[prettycoolguy]

The Chief lets Wash settle, then puts his arm down around him. It's not like the Valor's Day incident, he's relaxed this time. They've established what this contact means, he understands, and though it's still unfamiliar it's not uncomfortable. If this lets him share a measure of stability, then it's worth doing.

Without another word, the Chief goes back to using his free hand to check over the last of his comm-related to-do list. There's nothing else he feels like he needs to discuss. He can sit here and do this and let Wash lean on him.

The Chief is worried about a number of things (and people), but he's still steady. He's still alright. Wash doesn't have to strive to be the okay one, here. The Chief doesn't need him to be.