Jay & Catseye
May. 2nd, 2005 12:11 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
x-icarus.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsCatseye takes it upon herself to look after Jay. He is surprisingly welcome to the gigantic purple cat.
Birdboy was sleeping, sort of. It was the light, wary sleep of the recently ambushed, one she knew well. The scent of blood in the room and the still lingering echo of a small, lost whimper spoke of a wounded creature, still not feeling safe despite a healing such as Catseye had never seen. She purred lowly in reaction nonetheless, curled up beside the bed on a small couch she'd dragged inside, a large cougar's paw carefully nestled on the side of the bed with claws tucked in so as to not damage anything.
Jay had promised himself that there'd be no more tears after talking to Forge, and he'd actually managed to keep that. Mostly. One or two leaked out every so often, but for the most part, he'd numbed himself to everything, and instead spent his time lying on his side on his bed, staring straight ahead, but not seeing the poster of Adam Levine hanging on his wall.
Catseye had come in a few minutes ago. Or maybe a few hours. Jay wasn't paying attention to the time. Eyes fixed blankly ahead, he'd laid his hand on top of Catseye's huge paw. The soft fur reminded him of a stuffed mountain lion he'd had as a child.
Motion. That was a good thing she decided, since it was the first since she'd arrived. Shifting carefully on the couch (which she'd tied the legs of to the base of the bed, after discovering rather quickly that big cats tended to fall between a couch and bed unless moorings of a sort had been arranged) she stretched out her head, brushing a furry cheek against his hand, the purr kept as low as possible. A sound from outside in the common drew her attention, but she knew it wasn't Forge - he was in the medlab, where she'd be going a bit later. Sharing her time watching over the sleep of the two boys wasn't tiring at all when you could sleep during the day. Thankfully. The sounds drifted away and she rested her head down once more, though still on her guard. It was all she could do, keep guard, but she intended to do it well.
His hand instinctively reached out to scratch under her chin and the side of her neck. It was strange, he thought (the first conscious thought he'd had pretty much all day), being affectionate to a cougar of all things. After everything that'd happened, a kitten might have been more calming. But oddly enough, the large purple cat did more to soothe him than he'd thought possible.
The rumbling purr didn't increase though it steadied out, oddly dimmed for a creature her size yet somehow still very much there. Gently she accompanied the scratching with a tilting of her head, leaning every so lightly into his hand, making sure it would not add pressure that would run down to his shoulder and back in the process. He smelled of hurt that went deeper than anything she could see. But he hadn't tried to keep her out and as long as Catseye could keep an eye on him, she would not complain.
It was the lack of dialogue, Jay decided, his hand moving up the scratch between Catseye's ears. No questions, no accusations, no blame, no words at all. There was no discussion of his pain and his experiences. All that was at issue was comfort and security. That did more to console Jay than any amount of talking ever could.
Birdboy was sleeping, sort of. It was the light, wary sleep of the recently ambushed, one she knew well. The scent of blood in the room and the still lingering echo of a small, lost whimper spoke of a wounded creature, still not feeling safe despite a healing such as Catseye had never seen. She purred lowly in reaction nonetheless, curled up beside the bed on a small couch she'd dragged inside, a large cougar's paw carefully nestled on the side of the bed with claws tucked in so as to not damage anything.
Jay had promised himself that there'd be no more tears after talking to Forge, and he'd actually managed to keep that. Mostly. One or two leaked out every so often, but for the most part, he'd numbed himself to everything, and instead spent his time lying on his side on his bed, staring straight ahead, but not seeing the poster of Adam Levine hanging on his wall.
Catseye had come in a few minutes ago. Or maybe a few hours. Jay wasn't paying attention to the time. Eyes fixed blankly ahead, he'd laid his hand on top of Catseye's huge paw. The soft fur reminded him of a stuffed mountain lion he'd had as a child.
Motion. That was a good thing she decided, since it was the first since she'd arrived. Shifting carefully on the couch (which she'd tied the legs of to the base of the bed, after discovering rather quickly that big cats tended to fall between a couch and bed unless moorings of a sort had been arranged) she stretched out her head, brushing a furry cheek against his hand, the purr kept as low as possible. A sound from outside in the common drew her attention, but she knew it wasn't Forge - he was in the medlab, where she'd be going a bit later. Sharing her time watching over the sleep of the two boys wasn't tiring at all when you could sleep during the day. Thankfully. The sounds drifted away and she rested her head down once more, though still on her guard. It was all she could do, keep guard, but she intended to do it well.
His hand instinctively reached out to scratch under her chin and the side of her neck. It was strange, he thought (the first conscious thought he'd had pretty much all day), being affectionate to a cougar of all things. After everything that'd happened, a kitten might have been more calming. But oddly enough, the large purple cat did more to soothe him than he'd thought possible.
The rumbling purr didn't increase though it steadied out, oddly dimmed for a creature her size yet somehow still very much there. Gently she accompanied the scratching with a tilting of her head, leaning every so lightly into his hand, making sure it would not add pressure that would run down to his shoulder and back in the process. He smelled of hurt that went deeper than anything she could see. But he hadn't tried to keep her out and as long as Catseye could keep an eye on him, she would not complain.
It was the lack of dialogue, Jay decided, his hand moving up the scratch between Catseye's ears. No questions, no accusations, no blame, no words at all. There was no discussion of his pain and his experiences. All that was at issue was comfort and security. That did more to console Jay than any amount of talking ever could.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}