One of the things she'd come to find over the course of their relationship was that whenever they separated, whether it was an amicable parting of ways, an abrupt cut off with one of them storming away from the other, or whatever the case might be, it always still felt like they were still linked somehow, and that was why he could cup the side of her face and she could look at him with tenderness. It was how they could link hands standing beside each other over a sink, and how they could banter about cults and not-cults when they came face to face again. In other words, no matter what happened, they could still find some level of comfort in each other, with each other. That was why she was trusting him right now, letting him guide her and shifting on the couch accordingly.
When he told her to stay calm, of course that meant she wanted to panic. The good thing about being an ER surgeon was that she was conditioned not to panic in any scenario. They'd both seen some pretty dire conditions in patients they'd worked with and maintained their calm. Christine could do that now, too. At least, she hoped she could. She was relying solely on that learned instinct to do as Stephen told her and relax. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she took a deep breath. One of the ridiculous videos she'd watched on YouTube started this same way, but somehow she knew this was going to be different.
And boy, was that true.
The next thing she knew, she was hovering above herself -- which was a very bizarre concept to have to accept as a realization. The Christine and Stephen she could see looked like they'd just fallen asleep on the couch together after back to back long shifts at the hospital. That actually was a comforting sight and it allowed her to look around and take in everything else around them. That was about the time she started to hear the sort of glass like sound. It reminded her of one time they'd gone away together for a weekend in Vermont and it had begun to snow overnight. She'd stepped outside of the cabin they were staying in and just listened. It was so quiet she could actually hear the snowflakes hitting the ground. It sounded a lot like that.
His voice pulled her from that memory, and she looked over at him again. "Is it going to keep breaking? What does that mean if it does?"