“The risk I took was calculated, but man, I’m bad at math.” -- TheDragonsFlame
It was later. The wounds had been repaired and bandaged. The fires had been extinguished. The echoes of the explosions had long since died down. And Tierl was still pissed. Because she was waiting for Jan to wake up after the flakking mess she'd made. Sure, there were upsides and downsides to loving a Lucker, and this was the one that irritated Tierl the most. Watching time tick by. Watching the health indicators tick and jig as Jan's body recovered from everything Jan had done to herself.
Love could be a pain in the arse, sometimes. Just like Tierl's belief that visiting Jan's recovery drawer would somehow speed her recovery from the coma she had put herself in pulling some damn fool stunt to save the day. Which, in her defense, Jan had done. But at severe cost.
Sure, medical care was subsidised, but visiting her wife's drawer every day was flakking painful to endure. And, of course, when Jan recovered consciousness and movement capability, it was when Tierl was at work because of course things worked that way when one was married to a Lucker. It would have been exhausting, but Jan was back amongst the allegedly cogniscent.