Be Brave

What's the Plan, Cap'n? Part 1

After dinner, two men, boys actually; they didn't look older than Amara, cleared the dishes as last round for drinks were being made. Amara had three more and she was finding it tough to stay awake, opting instead to rest her head on her arm on the table. 

Her eyes grew heavy and she yawned every few minutes. She heard hushed voices all around her but couldn't make any of them out and everything else was quiet. 

Heath and most of the crew had already gone to bed she reckoned. She only stayed because she wasn't too sure of the protocol. Was she supposed to excuse herself? Say her thanks and good nights? Did she need to help clean anything? Back at Kylie's, Amara had to help make the dinner AND clean the dishes afterwards since it was part of her home duties.

She could faintly feel herself nodding off when a warm hand rubbed her arm, pulling her back from the brink of sleep. Kirk stared at her, a warm fatherly smile splayed on his face.

"Go to bed, kiddo. You've had enough excitement for today. The ship's ready to head out soon enough." Amara nodded her head and went to stand, the weight of the alcohol hitting her all at once. 

She stumbled and fell back in her seat again, her eyes widening in shock. She didn't realize how drunk she was. She tried again, this time taking her time, getting up gently. Much better. 

She walked back to her room which seemed to take forever because the halls kept spinning. Once she opened the door, the sight inside that greeted her hit her like a curve ball. 

Heath sat on her bed, no, lounged, on her bed, taking up the whole space, practically making himself at home. She must be imagining it. She walked into the room and he stood up, walked passed her and tossed her a bottle of something before walking out of the room, leaving her feeling puzzled. 

She looked at the object in her hands, a clear bottle full of little pills; aspirin. Thank Gods.

"Um.... Thanks?" she slurred her words. She struggled for several minutes, feeling flustered when she couldn't get the top off. She was about to give up and slam the bottle down, shattering it and getting the pills that way, when she gave it one last try and the lid popped off in her hand. Eureka!

She fished out four pills and chucked them in her mouth, finally noticing the glass of water placed on the desk. She drained the entire glass, grateful to have something else to drink besides alcohol.

She sat on the bed, stripping off her boots which felt heavy after having them on for almost three days and crawled into bed, piling the furs on top of her and surrounding herself with the pillows. It didn't take her long to fall asleep. 

This time, she was too exhausted for any dreams to haunt her.

She awoke to the sun nearly blinding her, even though her eyes were closed. 

She pulled a fur over her head to try and block the light for a little more time to sleep but that soon got too hot and she felt stifled and sweaty. She moaned and tried to roll out of bed. Too fast, too soon, everything is spinning. She had to rush to the window and nearly broke the glass trying to open it so she could retch what was in her stomach. The spasms it caused her body made her feel whiplash. 

Finally getting over the nausea, a new sheen of sweat covered her forehead and upper lip as well as her back, making her dress stick to her. Her eyes watered, from either the sunbeams hitting the water and shining into her eyes, or from the vomiting. She stuck her head back inside, closing the window and reached for the glass of water Heath had placed on the desk for her the night before. So he did come in here last night. I thought it was a dream. Much to her disappointment, it was empty, having already drunk it all last night.