staring down the sun

[27] back into the arms that care

Connor started feeling antsy a little over a week into his recovery, and rightfully so. It wasn't so much the decrease in physical activity or being stuck at the church; it was more because he wasn't used to being taken care of. He'd been so used to taking care of everyone else, always knowing when someone really truly needed help, so being forced into a submissive state was incredibly aggravating.

But there was an upside to the whole situation...

Elena kneels behind him as he sits on the edge of the bed. She carefully lifts his right arm, stretching his side slowly before lowering his elbow. Connor smiles to himself, still thinking about how she had offered to do a little physical therapy with him. She reasoned that she had a similar injury a few years ago, but deep down it felt like she just wanted to be close to him...she just couldn't say it.

"You know, you never told me why you and Murphy tattooed each other's backs," she mentions lightly.

Feeling her eyes on his bare back suddenly makes him feel self-conscious...another feeling he's not used to. But he chuckles as he feels his muscles strain with the repeated stretch. "I don't know. Suppose it was something to do to pass the time on the sheep farm, keep our hands busy whenever we felt the itch to return to...this. Don't think we really thought that much about it."

"So how did you decide who'd get the face and who'd get the...oh fucking Christ."

"Lord's name, lass!" Connor snaps with a laugh, but he winces almost instantly in pain.

Elena places her other hand on his left shoulder, her hair tickling his skin as she leans around to glare at him. "Don't tell me you fucking flipped a coin!"

All he can do is smile, that mischievous MacManus smile, and Elena rolls her eyes, mumbling another blasphemous exclamation under her breath. That one, though, he lets go.

As the stretching resumes, Connor breathes deeply, inhaling her scent of eucalyptus and sea salt. "I'm not used to this, ye know."

"What?"

He exhales slowly. "Letting someone else take care of me."

"No kidding," she laughs.

He smirks, raising his eyebrows at the memory that rushes back into his brain. "Right. We've talked about this before, yeah?"

"We have." Elena draws in a slow breath herself, and Connor feels her hand twitch against his shoulder. "I think I'm starting to understand it now."

"What's that?"

"Why you take care of everyone else."

He shrugs nonchalantly, somehow still afraid of Elena getting in his head. "Someone has to do it," he states with tender confidence.

She remains quiet, though, and Connor's curiosity piques, wanting to know whatever revelation Elena's had.

And clearly, she can read his mind. "Because you might lose them. And you want to do whatever you can to keep that from happening."

Fuck. Elena has finally done it...she finally cracked the code to Connor's sub-conscience. She figured out something about him that he didn't really understand himself, honestly. Until now.

He can't help but smile, feeling a bit of relief even as she extends his arm higher, stretching his side more. "Ye might be on to something there, Elena."

She slides off the bed and moves to stand in front of Connor. He lifts his arms straight forward out of routine, and she presses down on them while he stiffens his muscles to prevent his arms from lowering under the force. After a few rounds, Elena places her hands on her hips in satisfaction. But her lips twist with a hint of despair. "I haven't had someone to lose in so long that I forgot what that feels like...to take care of someone like that."