WHO: Liam and Rory WHAT: A delightful wake-up call WHERE: Rory's room, NY Public Library WHEN: Early morning on February 10th, 2019 RATING: Medium, swearing STATUS: In Progress
Sleep was a beautiful thing. It wasn't guaranteed anymore, that was damn sure. When Rory spent the night away from the library, for one reason or another, she took for granted how easily she could sink under a blanket and just sleep. Her son was her world, but Jesus Christ, he made it difficult to sleep. It was bad enough that the entire world had gone to shit and nightmares were the price many paid for sleep, but having a teething toddler too restless to settle down left Rory more exhausted than she cared to admit. She missed her baby whenever medical cases demanded her attention at other safe houses, but she didn't miss this part.
At all.
Whether that made her an awful mother or not, Rory was grateful when he finally slipped into a quiet sleep, breathing softly against her chest. The boy was carefully put in his crib, and by then, Rory was barely able to crawl in bed before she was following suit. She didn't have time to worry about anything, to momentarily dread familiar nightmares about having her flesh torn into, or losing her son. She just fell into a hard, deep sleep that easily would've carried her through the night.
Except a man named Liam Nolan-Bryne was trying to fucking kill her.
There was no other explanation.
If the man had waited a few hours to drunkenly crack his skull open, it would've been a different story. Rory wouldn't have decided it was something personal. But she was sleep deprived enough as it was, and when she suddenly had someone forcing her awake, her only thought was that this man was undoubtedly doing this on purpose. His accent was familiar enough that she didn't try to deck him, but as she pulled her pillow over her head and groaned, Rory made no attempt to hide her discontent. If it meant getting back to sleep faster, she would've given up her stethoscope and forfeit her doctor status.
Refusing to remove the pillow from over her head, Rory mumbled "Fuck. Go away."
As pleasantly as she could, of course. Bedside manner and all that.