Mostly due to the bruises that have only just in the last few days given over to his normal skin color, replacing sick green and purple like he'd tie-dyed himself with kelp, allowing muscles to bunch and relax without shocks of pain or wincing. Not enough to keep from coaxing Grace away from the beach so she wouldn't see what's left of the patchwork, but enough that it doesn't make an unconscious stretch of his back and sides into a sudden misery.
Mostly, it's the concussion that's been dragging him along, leaving him in a constant state of exhaustion for the first week and truncating his ability to focus for what has felt like years. Writing reports, checking emails, wrapping his head around a case: it's all felt like rolling a boulder uphill, and he doesn't like it, hates feeling like anything less than sharp and on top of his game. He's sick of walking into rooms and not remembering why he decided to go there, and the third time he came back from the store without milk, it was a real effort not to just dropkick his bowl of dry cereal through the window.
But it's fading, that confusion, the fuzziness and inability to remember, and he guesses he's pretty lucky -- with the amount of time he was out in the trunk, it could have been a lot worse. So he pops Advil when his prescription runs out, and grumbles through the headaches, and actually managed to put on a pretty good face for the whole time Grace was here.
She'd been delighted at the idea of house-hunting, and had spent hours searching through real estate ads, pointing out this house or that, carefully noting pros and cons like a little secretary, discussing them with Danny with the kind of precision and solemnity that makes him wonder if she's already aware that she's probably smarter than he is. Follow that up with a night of board games and a movie, and it made for a pretty good Saturday. Sunday, Grace wanted to go to the Arizona Memorial, pointing out they should call Steve so he can give them a real tour, but he'd gently side-stepped the issue, telling her Steve was busy.
He might be. You never know. They couldn't spend every weekend together, and though the invitation to bring Grace over to use the beach and house is still standing, silently, they hadn't talked about it and Danny had made the executive decision to let it sit for a little while longer.
At least, until they've had a chance to talk about it. This thing. The one that keeps happening.
So they end up with a picnic at a park instead, and before he knows it, it's dinner time and Grace has spent the afternoon doing homework, and he's dropping her off in front of that graceful mansion, with Rachel nowhere to be seen and his little girl's hug still warm around his neck. It makes the first few moments without her worse than ever: he's never used to it, but this sudden absence is always like losing a hand, or a leg, or being chopped in half. The car is too quiet without her chatter, so he turns on the radio, glances at the clock.
When he reaches for the phone and hits the second name on that list, it's almost reflex.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-23 02:32 pm (UTC)Mostly due to the bruises that have only just in the last few days given over to his normal skin color, replacing sick green and purple like he'd tie-dyed himself with kelp, allowing muscles to bunch and relax without shocks of pain or wincing. Not enough to keep from coaxing Grace away from the beach so she wouldn't see what's left of the patchwork, but enough that it doesn't make an unconscious stretch of his back and sides into a sudden misery.
Mostly, it's the concussion that's been dragging him along, leaving him in a constant state of exhaustion for the first week and truncating his ability to focus for what has felt like years. Writing reports, checking emails, wrapping his head around a case: it's all felt like rolling a boulder uphill, and he doesn't like it, hates feeling like anything less than sharp and on top of his game. He's sick of walking into rooms and not remembering why he decided to go there, and the third time he came back from the store without milk, it was a real effort not to just dropkick his bowl of dry cereal through the window.
But it's fading, that confusion, the fuzziness and inability to remember, and he guesses he's pretty lucky -- with the amount of time he was out in the trunk, it could have been a lot worse. So he pops Advil when his prescription runs out, and grumbles through the headaches, and actually managed to put on a pretty good face for the whole time Grace was here.
She'd been delighted at the idea of house-hunting, and had spent hours searching through real estate ads, pointing out this house or that, carefully noting pros and cons like a little secretary, discussing them with Danny with the kind of precision and solemnity that makes him wonder if she's already aware that she's probably smarter than he is. Follow that up with a night of board games and a movie, and it made for a pretty good Saturday. Sunday, Grace wanted to go to the Arizona Memorial, pointing out they should call Steve so he can give them a real tour, but he'd gently side-stepped the issue, telling her Steve was busy.
He might be. You never know. They couldn't spend every weekend together, and though the invitation to bring Grace over to use the beach and house is still standing, silently, they hadn't talked about it and Danny had made the executive decision to let it sit for a little while longer.
At least, until they've had a chance to talk about it. This thing. The one that keeps happening.
So they end up with a picnic at a park instead, and before he knows it, it's dinner time and Grace has spent the afternoon doing homework, and he's dropping her off in front of that graceful mansion, with Rachel nowhere to be seen and his little girl's hug still warm around his neck. It makes the first few moments without her worse than ever: he's never used to it, but this sudden absence is always like losing a hand, or a leg, or being chopped in half. The car is too quiet without her chatter, so he turns on the radio, glances at the clock.
When he reaches for the phone and hits the second name on that list, it's almost reflex.