Outtake

On one hand, this is made of adorable. (Which is why it didn't make it into The House on the Moor.) On the other hand, poor, poor Abigail. It must suck to know the guy you think is a murderer can pick you up. There go your hopes of, 'well, if he tries to stab me I can totally overpower him'.
* * *

She’d lost track of time-staring at the scenery would do that-when she became conscious of a warm weight on her shoulder.

“Nathan?”

Don’t be dead, don’t be dead…

No, just asleep. He’d been quiet, but…never mind. It had been a busy day.

She ought to move him, really. But they couldn’t be that far from home…she’d just leave him there. If she was being honest, she didn’t have the heart to move him.

She did make herself a little more comfortable, at least, before going back to looking out the window. He didn’t wake and she found herself checking every so often that he really was still asleep.

At one point he shivered and nestled up against her side. She reached over for the mack kept in here for sudden downpours and tucked it around him.

“’bigail?”

“Go back to sleep, we’re a ways out yet.”

“Thanks.”

“Shh.”

He sighed and said nothing else. She wasn’t sure he’d been awake at all, really.

She leaned against the window and took no small pleasure in being warm for the first time since they’d gone out. He didn’t move other than to burrow under the coat, one hand creeping up to hold it closed around his neck.

She’d close her eyes for a minute, she decided. Just for a minute…

* * *

She woke, a little, to Nathan’s voice.

“I’ll take her up to her room. Good night, Palmer.”

“Good night, sair.”

What? What was he talking about? Were they back already?

“Abigail.” She was awake, just give her a minute… “Come on.”

Before she could gather her wits enough to protest, he’d picked her up. No. No, she could walk, just give her a minute to wake up proper!

“C’n walk…”

“I doubt that very much.” She squirmed-well, twitched, anyway. “Don’t do that, you might find yourself dropped.”

Good. Dropped was better than carried.

“Down.” Lord, why wasn’t she waking up?

“In a minute.” Soon enough, he set her down on what she vaguely recognised as her bed. “There you go. Good night, Abigail.”

“Nathan?”

But he was already gone, door closing softly behind him. Well. If she wasn’t becoming aware of a dry mouth, she’d have thought she dreamt the whole thing. Stranger things had happened, but not many.