[ The last time — the only time before this that he'd been here had been when he came to her for help with keeping an eye on Kate. They'd been here for about thirty seconds before rushing off again, so she hadn't really had time to consider the strangeness of him standing here, an awkward statue, in her little cabin. But here he is, back in his coat and cap, performing his self-inflicted community service, checking in like the dutiful officer he is. ]

It's mostly bruises. Some pulled muscles. No doctor's gonna tell me anything but 'rest, ice, and ibuprofen,' even Goodsir.

[ She's pretty sure none of those things will help the soreness she's feeling right now, deep in her chest and stomach. It feels like when that kid Mal landed on her, a sense of increasing pressure, everything inside her tender and bruised.

He's watching her, brown eyes big and worried, and her gut feels like it's never going to relax again. There's a tense knot just below her diaphragm that makes every breath feel like it's going to crack her ribs from the inside out, and she'd meant to just dismiss him, but the thought of telling him to leave only makes everything worse. Despite everything, she'd missed him. How stupid is she? ]

What do you even care?

[ She needs to— move, to extract herself from getting stuck staring at him, so she turns away, limps over to the kitchen to rummage through a drawer as she keeps going, edged sarcasm layered over the deep well of sore feelings beneath, but not thickly enough to keep them from bleeding through. ]

Or did you just remember I'm still a part of your community and decide to swing by on one of your patrols?