Page 9 of The Entire Team

Sylvie clicked her tongue as she started to push off the side of the bed. Rave was at her side, wrapping an arm around her hip. He felt her jerk away from his fingers, “I’ll fucking kill him.” In the process of trying to get his hands off more bruises, she had put her shoulder into his side and settled for a second, trying to inhale him. He pulled on the waistband of her scrubs to expose the bruises on her hip.

“Hey! I’m standing here,” she slapped his hand away from her clothes. She glared at him though her good eye.

“So, we’ll be outside,” Tech cued the team.

“Sylvie, glad you’re…alive,” Red stumbled over which was met by Flash slapping the back of his head.

“Hope you get to feeling better,” Stitch said following the rest.

Genie took up the rear, “Let us know if you need anything. We’re local for a while.”

Through her embarrassment Sylvie answered them, “Thanks for coming, guys.”

Rave satdown on the edge of the bed, “I left you to that asshole.”

“You had a job to do, that simple. We’ve known each other for like 3 seconds. I’m not talking about this again.”

“How?” He looked up at her.

“I had a migraine.” He watched her replay the memories in her head. “I was in the bathroom, it was too bright, he hit me,” she motioned at the stitches.

“With what? I’ve seen you fight.” Thinking back to their kiss and sizing up the circumference of the stitches he realized the answer to his question.

“Fire extinguisher,” they said in unison.

She shook her head, clearing it. “Don’t look at me like you’re crushed. You don’t have to live with this. This didn’t happen to you.”

“It shouldn’t have happened to you.”

“Well, that’s a moot point isn’t it.” Changing directions, “Are you really stationed here?”

Rave blinked, his forehead wrinkling in question, “Yeah.” He reached up and tucked back the hair that was covering up her swollen eye. “Are you pressing charges? Did they--?”

Sylvie growled.

“It is my business. If I’m gonna be with you I should know, don’t you think?” Rave retorted.

“They did what they could before I got off the ship. Look, you don’t want to be with me. You don’t want to inherit this. This is gonna get so much worse before it gets better.” She hesitated, “If it gets better.”

“You don’t understand, this isn’t something I will get rid of. You’re it for me, I feel it. I will be whatever you need when you need it, and we’ll go from there.”

“Why is it every time you start talking it sounds too good to be true?”

“Because you don’t know me yet.” He answered simply. “Are you supposed to be out of bed? You have injured ribs, bruises, stitches.” Sylvie growled again. “I can wait for your doctor, or you can tell me.” When she wasn’t getting so mad at him, he’d have to tell her how cute it made her look.

“I can walk and the DFAC has awesome coconut macaroons sometimes,” she started toward the door slowly. He walked on her right side, to protect that blind side. They were alone in the elevator, but it stopped on the fourth floor and people got on. Sylvie turned in toward Rave, wanting to hide. He gently placed his left arm around her, pulling her in closer. No one would be able to see her face that way. More people got on when the elevator stopped on the second floor. Sylvie shrunk into him even more. When the elevator opened on the first floor she turned right and headed to the dining room.

He stayed tight to her as she walked the line in the serving area, sending off in waves hisdon’t fuck with meattitude.When they got to the cashier, he looked down at her, “You’re not eating enough.”

The cashier interrupted, “Ma’am, is that all?” It wasn’t her first day and she’d seen Rave nearly standing on top of Sylvie the entire time they’d been in there. She thought it was nice he’d grabbed extra macaroons for her tray, but now he seemed controlling. She rang up the cup of soup, three servings of macaroons, and two fountain drink cups on the tray. Sylvie faced the cashier and nodded. The cashier’s eyes widened, and she took in the scrubs. Her gaze went back to Rave and narrowed slightly.

Obliviously, Rave pulled out his wallet and set the money on her counter. He took Sylvie’s tray and lifted his chin toward a table by a window. The cashier watched them sit down, concerned about what appeared to be a ‘good guy’s’ attentiveness. Once she was settled, her bruises facing the window, he went to get their drinks.

Sylvie played with her soup. “Are you going to eat?”

“Are you going to entertain me?”

“What do you want to know? I’ll entertain if you eat.” He smiled at her.

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