willnotbemine, posts by tag: entry [log] - LiveJournal

Lucky's out like a light and she's grateful he's getting the much needed sleep. She thinks almost everyone's asleep, though she'd bet her life on Sonny being up looking over paperwork and making sure the Crowbar's in better condition than when they first arrived. She needs to talk to him and she will, but she doesn't want to leave Lucky just yet. Lena always needs less sleep than he does, and even then, she's a person that belongs to the night. Some people are morning people. They're up once the birds start chirping and just after the sun's risen.

Lena's a night person. She always will be.

There's something comforting about that not changing.

She sits beside his sleeping form, one of her hands curled gently into his hair. The bed itself is pressed against the wall. She has a perfect view outside the window. Her index finger lifts up to pull away the curtain and she can see the alleyway from here. That's where... that's where.

They sleep and they get the rest they need over the next couple of days. They'll likely eat lunch with the whole family but Lena isn't planning on staying in her room for good. Before she leaves, she's going to go over to Sonny's office, with a small piece of lemon meringue pie Lou made. She just doesn't want to leave without having talked to Sonny, explaining to him that her not staying doesn't mean their estrangement is back on.

At least, she hopes not.

Lena slept for two days straight. From the moment she said she'd crash, she let herself fall into deep sleep, her head hammering with a painful migraine that wouldn't go away no matter what, and it's only until over forty-eight hours later she resurfaces from that sleep. She doesn't remember crying, but her pillow is wet with tear tracks, and she feels vaguely disoriented when she wakes. The clock on her nightstand lets her know it is nearing three in the morning, and she sits up straight, waiting until the feeling returns to her bones. The feeling her body is hers, and it's strange how she has been more grounded and stable now than she's been in years, but her body comes to remind her that it's not always true. She feels more energy and stability than she has in days, but she knows it's only stage one--and stage one is the easiest.

Glancing at the clock again, she closes her eyes and stretches. She takes a long shower to regain the strength back in her muscles, brushes her teeth and changes into fresh clothes, and by the time she's making her way down the stairs, it's three-thirty. There's only one other person that'll be awake at this hour, she knows. Well, there's also Gates, but Gates will be in his room, working on profiling the bomber, most likely.

Lena knows Sonny will have been worried about her and more importantly, she'd been worried about him, so she doesn't waste time going to his office.

Surely enough, he's there.

But then again, he always is. There's a comfort that comes with that, as much as she'd like it that he not be cooped up in his office. He's gotten a lot better with that lately, so maybe there's hope.

"You know," she says while leaning against the door frame, fully aware she is being the queen of double standards. It's mostly to be teasing. "Despite evidence to the contrary, you are not a Bat."