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Syd(ney) Barrett (_donttouch) wrote,

And here she thought she got over at least the surprise part of her own ability years ago. Silly girl. She nodded at the advice, a smile flashed in silent thanks. And with the moment gone, Syd was left with that weird feeling of being pulled out of the memory, like sitting up too fast or the head rush from being upside down, and shook her head to clear it, smiling more and bumping shoulders back at the motion.

Looking to Melanie-as-Rudy, the smile turned apologetic. She knew that it must have been more than three hours. And everyone was still in their proper-improper place. She was really trying, guys. “Possible answers. More questions.” Business as usual. She shrugged, still needing and wanting to process everything. But she tried for that optimism, eyebrows lifting questioningly. “It’s a start, though? And I have a test to do the return switch.” One that she hoped would work, at least for now if not as a permanent thing.

Distracted by her own, singular noise in her borrowed head – how in the hell did telepaths, and telepaths-by-proxy, deal with more than that? – Syd looked over with wide eyes at the second conversation and then nodded. “Times like this, you’re right and winter sucks.” Because a bit of fresh air might have done well too. Alas, her coats wouldn’t fit right now. Hopefully soon, though. While she could, she snuck bigger hand over smaller one and gave a small wave with the free one. “We’ll come by again..hopefully all sorted out.” A pause, “If –“ No, another pause and shake of her head. “When it works, you guys should be fine. Bodies tend to follow consciousness.” Which was how they ended up with a Sydney instead of a David to begin with.

Once they were walking again, footsteps cruising toward the safe haven of one of their rooms on their own accord, Syd looked over with a quirk of mouth upwards. “I think I might miss this.” She tugged on his fingers, indicating what she’d miss in a bit of an understatement. “It’s nice to have the option.” But everything they did, the fabric and mind connection, little tugs on clothing and nudging of shoulders, was nice too. The fact that it was them, their things and their small rituals, made it all the better.

They reached her room first and, as she plopped on the bed, drawing longer legs up close to her chest, she peered at David with knit eyebrows and worry creeping on shared features. “What if I can’t change it all back?” She knew that there was the option, last option, of asking him to fix it, but that didn’t stop the worry that she was as over her head as he often felt. Then she scowled, annoyed with herself and the worries. “I don’t like not knowing myself.”