Thread: Lifeguard and Thunderbird Who: Heather Cameron and Neal Shaara NPCs: None When: April 16, 2009 Where: Heather's room What: Heather's still recuperating from her concussion and full-out embarrassment of wiping out in front of everyone. Neal swings by to check on her. Rating: A for awkwardness. Really, there shouldn't be anything in here that's going to go above PG or PG-13 considering Heather is still seeing double.
Really, after four days, she'd expected the pain in her head to go away, at least somewhat. It was driving her crazy to be completely useless like this. But with her head still throbbing like nobody's business, Heather really wasn't up for research or Excalibur work, though she'd tried to get up and do both of those things a few times since the accident.
No dice.
She still kept the lights in her bedroom off; it helped not to have the glare of light in her room. So did the codeine. She was starting to feel like a codeine junkie. But regular Tylenol wasn't doing the trick and if she didn't take the stuff, she was afraid she wasn't going to be able to take the pain. And that was simply unacceptable. It was bad enough that she was in the position she was in to begin with.
Even more, it meant that she couldn't check in on Neal, who was probably still dealing with the aftermath of his kidnapping and his leg injury. She was keeping as up-to-date on things as she could, but Heather could slowly feel herself slipping behind. On everything.
Luckily, she'd gotten over her initial irritation at being strong armed into going to the doctor. Davis had talked her down from that ledge. Which was good for both him and Neal.
Sighing, she turned on her side, shutting her eyes and trying to block out the headache as best she could. Stupid powers. Now would be a good time to be able to use them at will.