knowthyexits | (no subject)

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neil

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Sarah's shift hasn't been anything out of the ordinary. She's kept to her tables and there are slow periods just like any other day. She notices in the post-dinner rush that her pulse is racing, but she figures it has to do with the high heat of the kitchen and the pace from the hurrying she's just done. It's not unusual to happen to her. What is unusual is that she starts having trouble catching her breath.

She pulls up a stool, getting a water for herself and breathing in deeply. It's reminiscent of some of the milder panic attacks she's had in her time -- when John's life was on the line, when she didn't know if their safety had been compromised -- but the only battle she faces now is getting from session to session. She's nearing completion and had stupidly thought that the side effects would fade.

She's fairly sure she spoke too soon.

"Neil," she summons him quietly, when the dizziness hits again. "Neil, I need you to do me a big favor. Can you do that?"

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"I won't be long," she promises, but it's a mad dash to get to a spot with vaguely remote privacy, keeping her food down just long enough to head around the back. She returns to Neil fives minutes later, a pale look to her face and a rueful curve to her lips. "I think that's everything I've had lately. I'm ready to go."

"Gross," I say, teasing her just as much as I dare to, and waiting for her to slide back into her seat before I take off again.

I want to get there as fast as I can. If she gets worse, suddenly, I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do for her, and the idea of that is scarier than I'd thought it would be.

"I hear that a lot," she jokes in turn, grateful that every moment brings her closer to the clinic. "You don't have to wait for me once we get there," she promises. "Rory will take good care of me, he always does." She's a little scared that she doesn't know what's wrong, but dealing with this stuff on her own has become something of a forte.

"I'm not gonna just fuckin' leave you," I say, even though I'll be no help. Even though I know Rory's the type that'll do whatever he can to make sure she's okay. Letting her out at the door and driving off just feels wrong.

"Neil," she promises, as soft and swift as she can. "Neil, I'm going to be fine as soon as I get inside." In fact, she's going to focus on that now: one foot in front of the other, making her way slow but sure inside. "You can come if you want," she offers, over her shoulder. "It just won't be very fascinating."

Rolling my eyes, I hop off the ATV and follow her, slipping ahead just so I can open the door for her.

"I was expectin' it to be a fuckin' laugh riot," I roll my eyes, "Look, I'll at least get you through the fuckin' door, then I'll quit hovering."

"I'm just not used to being the one on this side of the hovering," she admitted, raising a brow as she shakes her head. "Usually, it's me who can't keep her nose out of my family's business." Or their associates, since she's not sure she'll ever want to call Cameron 'family'.

"I'm not stickin' my nose in, I'm just openin' doors," I remind her with a smirk, walking down the hall toward the clinic with her, and then, just as I promised, opening the door to let her in.

"You're still here," she pointed out, which was more than she could say about other people in her life. She managed a smile, as best as she could. "Thank you, Neil, for getting me here." She wrapped an arm around her stomach to try and keep the nausea back, just until they got inside to talk to Rory.

"No problem," I say with a shrug, and when we step through the clinic doors, I hang back, letting her talk to Rory on her own.

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