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[Ah. That's right. The interview that she had given a day before leaving New York and arriving to Moira. She didn't really care much for the notes and they were originally meant to be published and to be read by the public so she hadn't seen much harm with letting Miles to read them. But there was something about his reaction that J didn't understand, he's looking so gravely and almost upset. The story she had told was supposed to be one of those "from hardships to the glamour" kind of tales so there shouldn't be reason for this kind of response.

Her brows knotting into a frown J gives him a slight nod as an answer --not quite getting why he's asking about Rita. J doesn't even remember if she had mentioned her during the interview or not.]

[ okay, well, she remembers rita, then. he's not so sure if that makes this any easier or not. that...really, really depends. miles rubs at his lips. ]

Ah. And the last time you saw her was...?

[ has J already left her? are they still together? when, exactly, in that tangled clusterfuck of romance, did J leave off? miles almost wishes she'd said no, she doesn't know rita, after all. maybe that would be easier. ]

[Right, now this is getting too specific and is starting to remind an interrogation of sorts. J huffs, blowing air out in obvious irritation.]

when i did that interview. why are you so interested in her all of the sudden? did she arrive here or something?

[ dammit, this is so...delicate. miles feels inadequately equipped to handle this. but he can't just let this go, either. J said she didn't have any reason to make changes in her life, nothing to really live for but her own survival. he can't just let her go on thinking that. he can't. ]

No -- no, nothing like that.

[ best not give her false hope, if...hope is what that news would instill in her, anyway. no, based on the notes he has, and what he's piecing together from this conversation, he's not sure hope is the right word. he chews on the side of his thumb, trying to figure out the best way to say what it is he wants to say.

in the end, he just winds up babbling. typical miles. ]

It's just that there are things about her in these notes that you don't know -- that you couldn't possibly know, because they haven't happened yet. For you, I mean. These notes aren't just from the interview you gave, there are things from...afterward. Things I think you'd want to know. I mean, I know you don't think you --

[ please stop him, J, he's just going to keep babbling. ]

[Her frown deepens, lips curling slightly downwards as she watches him talk. His mouth is running faster than his train of thought, making it difficult to follow the red thread -- if he even has one at the moment.

J stands up and takes few quick steps so that she's standing right in front of him. She first places her hand gently on top of his head and then slowly slides it down under his chin, lifting it a little so that their eyes meet. Why is he bringing all of this up right now? When the whole ship was still in chaos and everyone, they included, trying to recover and find their footing again.]

[ miles cuts off abruptly when J touches his face, bringing his gaze back up to hers, biting his lips together. he tries to breathe through his nose to calm his hammering heart, but it just makes him more aware of the uncomfortable twisting in his gut. shit.

miles draws in a breath and tries not to talk too fast. ]

According to these notes, you left Rita, not long after you remember, if I've got the dates right. But she's been looking for you. [ he swallows. don't back out of this now, boy. you can't leave this door half-open. follow through. ] Because she was pregnant.

[The hand on his face tenses up as J's whole body freezes, the previous slight grip tightening a little. Her wide eyes keep staring down at him and her lips pressed into a thin line. There's a cold, uneasy and nauseous sensation in the bottom of her stomach, one that's climbing up with a rabid speed and spreading all over her body -- settling down on her limbs and muscles.

Because she was pregnant.

J doesn't understand. What does that mean? What does any of this have to do with her? After all all, the baby would be Arther's. It had to be. What else could it be?

Pregnant.

It couldn't be. But she's looking for her instead of staying with Arther--- even though she had used and left her in such a cruel way. Holding her breath she only keeps her eyes at him, waiting for him to confirm her fears.]

Edited 2016-07-27 23:08 (UTC)

[ miles bites his lips together, searching her face, trying to unknot his stomach, but it's not happening. she...doesn't look thrilled. maybe she's just scared. she's still so young, he reminds himself. maybe she just doesn't understand yet. ]

You said before you didn't really have anything to live for. A reason to change. [ he puts his hand over hers, squeezing gently, and tugs it away from his face. ] But you do.

['Not thrilled.' That's really an understatement.

The little color that's left on J's face drains away when he drops the last statement, leaving her skin white as a sheet. All the sounds disappears around her as the nausea stings her even stronger, stopping her breath and making her shake. The only thing she can feel out of the sickness is his touch -- one that's meant to be comforting and gentle is like a violent grip that's forcing her stay there, preventing her to move.

Rita was pregnant. With her child! Nononono, this can't be happening. She can't be... a mother.. or father?

A brief memory of her parents and what happened to them -- to her -- flashes in J's mind and that's what it finally takes to push her over the edge, the nausea, anxiety and fear turning into hot, burning spikes that pierces her body from the inside. With quick movements she pulls her hand away from him and barely manages to turn away when her knees buckles and she empties all the contents of her stomach to the floor. ]

[ WHOA that is not the reaction miles was expecting. sure, she's maybe not thrilled, but vomiting at the idea of having a child? shit. shit, shit, shit. miles made some serious misjudgments here.

he doesn't mean to freeze when J whirls around and drops to her knees, but he's torn by several impulses all at once -- to reach for her, to try to catch her, to babble some senseless apology, to bolt right out of the medbay with his heart in his throat. but he just stands there with a hand half-outstretched and his mouth half-open, watching helplessly as she vomits onto the floor, and for a second the only inane thought his blanked-out mind can produce is, thank god someone else is going to clean that up.

his hand tenses when it seems like she's done, retracting his fingers back against his palm, and he realizes he's not holding his breath, he's just hardly breathing at all. he sucks in a breath, rubbing his mouth, and takes a step closer. his hand hovers over her shoulder and he mutters a quiet shit to himself. ]

J?

[Luckily there isn't much in her stomach that could end up on the floor. Her appetite hasn't been the best after the horrors of the invasion and she's found herself replacing the food with cigarettes, coffee and small sugary snacks she had gotten from the Collective. So, the pool of vomit stays relatively small as she continues to cough and dry heaving, her whole body shaking violently and palms pressed against the hard floor.

Her having a child shouldn't be possible. It just couldn't be! It's such an absurd idea that J had completely blocked it out of her mind. After all, it's not like she could get pregnant. That's the reason why men liked having sex with her, right? No need to use protection and worry about her showing up on their doorstep after 9 months.

But just because it was impossible to her didn't mean it was to others.

The thought of it made another nauseous wave hit her. Each of her muscle tenses up so that it almost hurts, cold and odorless sweat covering every inch of her. All of it making her feel dizzy

she turns to look back at him. There's still little vomit on her chin and eyes red and full of tears. And only when their gazes meet once again J realizes that she's afraid. Afraid of what he just told her, afraid of the files on his hand. Afraid of him.]

[ that look on her face, directed at him, somehow makes him feel sicker than everything he'd read in those files. he wasn't expecting her to be thrilled, no, but this kind of reception -- that fear on her face... god, was that how he'd looked to her on their first meeting, after she'd spat those words out so carelessly and shoved him to the floor? he'd thought that was bad, but being on the other end of it is even worse. he feels his chest tighten, and he licks at his lips, struggling for words, for some kind of bandage to the wound he'd apparently ripped wide open. ]

Shit. [ he's swearing out loud now, looking a little panicked now, like he's catching it from her. he draws back out of her personal space immediately, almost tripping over his own feet, and he drops the file in his hand, papers scattering everywhere. ] Shit, J, I'm sorry, I didn't think --

[Of course he hadn't been thinking. Or rather, he had, because this is Mr. Miles, but everything else but J. Because even after knowing her after all these months, having read the papers and interviews about her life, being aware of her emotional instability better than anyone else on this damn ship he had decided to tell her -- apparently truly believing that the news about a child in her home would help her. In a way, she could appreciate his honesty and trust in her, if she weren't in such deep shock and devastated state. Right now she couldn't think of anything.

She watches him through her tears as he takes the clumsy steps back, eyes wide and unseeing. It's the sound of files dropping on the floor that brings her back to the moment, the soft and subtle thud-sound echoing loudly in her ears. She lifts her gaze from the floor to meet Miles' upset and concerned eyes. Shit, indeed.

The fear of something still refuses to let go of her and the medbay starts all of the sudden feel too small and she couldn't breathe. She needs to get up, leave and go somewhere safe, away from the files and him. With her head still spinning and stomach burning, J pushes herself up from the floor as fast as possible, swaying little on her feet and runs off, heading towards the exit.]

[ J blows past him, still frozen, and he's left staring at the puddle of sick on the floor and feeling pretty sick himself. shit. shit. miles, you idiot.

really, he'd like to blame anyone but himself for this, but there are no scapegoats, only him in this medbay room with someone else's life scattered all over the floor. he doesn't call for anyone to clean up the mess until he's gathered every last page and tucked them back in the file, and then, still feeling sick, he hurries out of the medbay. ]

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