IDC wonders if she's been enough, Florida is not unfamiliar with this particular train of thought.
Government Trio Headcanons from guessimdemons92
IDC sits on the couch, DC and Gov on either side of her, looking at the table but not seeing as a movie plays on the TV in front of them.
The other two are dressed down for a change, DC in one of Texas's shirts and a pair of sweats, and Gov in a sweater that covers a shirt he borrowed from Austin and a pair of pajama pants.
They talking about the movie and IDC has yet to acknowledge the fact that they're speaking at all.
She doesn't have to say anything for Florida to recognize how she's feeling.
"Jenny," her eyes snap to him like she didn't realize he was there, "can you help me real quick?"
"Yeah." Her voice is soft when she speaks, as though she weren't quite ready to speak yet.
She walks into the kitchen with a blank stare he recognizes from himself, something so very tired in a way that is much more than just physical exhaustion.
"Are you alright?" He keeps his voice low, aware of Gov and DC's presence in the other room.
"Yeah," she says and he hears his own reply before she says it, "I'm just tired."
He sighs to ground himself and speaks, "it's alright if you need help, just say the word and I'm here."
"I know." There's a hint of a smile on her face, but it isn't enough to assuage his concern.
They go through the repetitive motions of a basic dish he's made a hundred times before in silence.
As they're wrapping up, she finds her voice, "do I do enough?"
He bites back a joke about how she does too much, "of course, you're a great sibling."
She stills from where she's plating; she was expecting a comment on her professional life or their friendship, not for him to understand the question.
She takes a big, shaky breath, and sighs something akin to a sob, "they both struggle so much still," she trails off.
"Because that's part of life, there's nothing else you can do but what you're already doing," he says, "except maybe," she looks over expectantly, "offer yourself the same level of care you give them."
Her brows draw together, lips pursing into a thin line, and he knows she wants to argue, "go easy on yourself," he stops her before she can start, "they'd want you to."
She's silent at this and he takes over playing for her.
The encouraging smile at her small, "thank you", is a step in the right direction, for both of them.
