She reads over Cara's shoulder, frowning at the casual tone. Too chipper. Too many jokes. But... maybe that's what Cara's friends expect from her.

"Fine. Post it." She leans back on her hands, watching Cara work. "And the email to your professor. Get that done too."

She's trying not to think about how normal this feels - sitting on a bed with someone, watching them type on a laptop. Like they're just two students working on homework together.

"Make sure you log out of everything when you're done."

She posts the Q&A to a few different websites, and then opens up her email to write a much less (but nonzero) joking-and-casual version of the same message to Prof Meadows, along with an apology for missing TAing on short notice, again letting Vera see it.

"If I log out of these accounts, we won't be able to log me back in," she says quietly.

She considers that for a moment. Leaving Cara logged in means she could potentially send messages when Vera's not watching. But logging out means losing access entirely, which could be worse if someone needs an urgent response.

"Close the laptop. You don't touch it unless I'm here watching." She rubs her temples. "We'll check for replies tomorrow."

She shifts on the bed, exhausted but wired at the same time. It's past one in the morning now.

"Get changed. We need to sleep."

Fine with her. (Though it wouldn't matter if it wasn't, really,)

She removes Vera's clothes (wincing in pain when they touch her injuries) and pulls on... a pair of basketball shorts and an worn, loose crop top, apparently?

She also pulls out and puts on her sleeping mask, though she doesn't cover her eyes with it yet.

She watches Cara change, noting the wince when fabric touches the bite mark. Good. She should remember what happens when she acts like a person instead of furniture.

She strips down to underwear and a tank top, not bothering with actual pajamas. Too tired. Too done with this day.

"You're sleeping here," she says, getting under the covers. "In the bed. With me."

She doesn't phrase it as a question. They need the contact for guiding, and she's not letting Cara out of arm's reach anyway.

"And take off the sleeping mask. I need to be able to see if you're awake."

She follows those instructions in the order she was given them, climbing under the covers next to Vera and then slipping the mask off her head, dropping it back on top of her backpack.

(She's careful not to initiate any snuggling that might happen, lest she accidentally let slip that she has a preference. Furniture doesn't have preferences, after all.)

She lies there for a moment, stiff and awkward. The bed feels too small with both of them in it. She can feel the heat radiating off Cara's body, even with the careful distance between them.

Fuck it. She needs the guiding.

She rolls onto her side, wrapping an arm around Cara's waist and pulling her back against her chest. Spooning. Like they're a real couple instead of... whatever this is.

"Don't move," she mutters against Cara's shoulder. "Just sleep."

Don't move is sure a thoughtlessly unkind order to give someone who you actually want to sleep! Vera pulled the blanket into her hurt knee, and now it stings as Cara breathes. 

She can't show this her body language (lol) and doesn't want to Be A Problem about it by trying to say something, so she's left to stew in annoyed silence and stillness for a while before she actually passes out.

She can feel Cara's breathing change, tension in her body that shouldn't be there if she was actually falling asleep. But she doesn't ask. Doesn't care. As long as the girl stays still and quiet, that's all that matters.

Her thoughts settle into something manageable, the endless branching possibilities narrowing down to just this: warm body against hers, steady breathing, the faint smell of Cara's shampoo.

She drifts off still holding too tight, fingers pressed against Cara's ribs like she might disappear if Vera lets go.

The tension starts to leave her body as she becomes more convinced that Vera's asleep.

There's a lot of mental troubleshooting she feels like she really should do. Conversational strategies she should be considering, messages to begin drafting, ways to figure out how best to navigate this fascinating prison situation she finds herself in. And there's still that feeling of nagging confusion, something that seems off, but it's so vague and she's exhausted and her brain doesn't work right...

Her thoughts go in unhelpful circles like this for a while, but eventually she falls asleep as well.

She wakes up slowly, disoriented. There's someone in her bed. Someone warm pressed against her front, her arm still wrapped around-

Cara. Right. Yesterday comes flooding back in pieces. The pool. The kidnapping. The baseball bat. Everything after.

She doesn't move yet, taking stock. Her head feels clearer than it has in days - the prolonged contact doing its work overnight. Cara's still asleep, breathing deep and even. Still obeying the order not to move, even unconscious.

Morning light filters through the windows she never closed. What time is it? She can't see the clock from this angle, doesn't want to move and risk waking Cara before she figures out what to do with her today.

This close to the fall equinox, the sun rises at about 7 am here, though this may or may not be something Vera knows offhand.

Cara shuffles in her sleep, curling inwards. Another nightmare, perhaps?

She feels Cara start to curl up and tightens her grip automatically, pulling her back against her chest. Not out of concern - she just doesn't want the movement to wake her properly. A conscious Cara means questions, decisions, having to figure out what comes next.

Saturday. No classes, at least. But that means more people around campus, more chances of someone noticing something's off. She needs to check the messages on Cara's social media, make sure no one's getting suspicious. Need to figure out food. Need to

Too many things. She closes her eyes again, letting herself have just a few more minutes of this strange peace before everything gets complicated again.

Cara makes a noise that might be either confusion or distress (or a secret third thing) when Vera restrains her, but she doesn't otherwise resist.

She lies there for a while longer, listening to Cara's breathing settle back into something steadier. The warmth between them is almost comfortable now, the guiding flowing easy and constant.

Eventually, her bladder makes the decision for her. She untangles herself carefully, sliding out of bed without jostling Cara too much.

"You can move," she mutters, mostly out of practicality - she doesn't need Cara lying frozen all day while she's in the bathroom.

She grabs her phone from the nightstand. 7:43 AM. Earlier than she usually wakes on a Saturday, but the sleep was good. Better than it's been in weeks, honestly.

She heads for the bathroom, leaving the door open. Not out of trust - she just wants to be able to hear if Cara does anything stupid.

Cara wakes up in time to hear the command. She yawns and stretches, noting how much less backlashed she feels - Vera met have held her all night...

She almost makes a noise, but then she remembers her current strategy is "furniture", so she'll wait until Vera gets back from the bathroom. 

...huh, she needs to use the bathroom. She should mention that when Vera gets out, probably?

She finishes up and washes her hands, catching her reflection in the mirror. She looks... better than yesterday. The dark circles under her eyes are less pronounced, her skin less sallow. The guiding really did help.

When she comes back out, Cara is awake, sitting up in bed with that carefully blank expression that means she's conscious but trying not to show it.

"Bathroom's free if you need it." She sits on the edge of the bed, checking her phone. No urgent messages. Good. "Then we need to check your socials, make sure no one's panicking."

She glances at Cara, taking in the way she's holding herself. Still, quiet, waiting. Like furniture.

Something about it makes her stomach turn, but she ignores it.

Cara nods and rolls out of bed to use the bathroom, splashing some water on her face after she cleans her hands. 

Her hair is annoyingly frizzy, but that's really low on the list of her priorities, all things considered.

She returns and looks at Vera expectantly, then hastily attempts to adjust to more of a blank stare. 

She catches the shift in expression - the brief flash of something before Cara smooths it away. It irritates her, but she's not sure why.

"Get your laptop. Sit next to me." She pats the bed beside her, then adds almost as an afterthought: "You can talk. When it's relevant."

She pulls up Cara's social media once the laptop is open, scrolling through the responses to last night's posts. Mostly well-wishes, a few nosy questions about her backlash that she can ignore. Nothing that looks like someone's about to call the cops.

"Anything here need an actual response?"

She takes a closer look. None of the comments seem important, but she has new DMs.

"I should probably check these," she murmurs, almost apologetically. Does Vera object? 

She gestures at the screen. "Go ahead. I'm watching."

She shifts closer, pressing her shoulder against Cara's so she can see every message as it opens.

"Read them out loud if they need context."

She has a few messages that don't seem to be relevant and then a groupchat with a lot of messages in it:

Reve: Caraaaaaaa holy shit you're going to be an esperrrr

Reve: Are you ok? Do you want help with your backlash? What's your backlash?

Mags: Reve she literally said she was keeping it private?? Don't pry or I'll whack you.

Mags: Also Cara I want you to know that she copy-pasted both those messages from our text thread before I pointed out that you said your phone was destroyed. 

Reve: They were good messages! Why rewrite them?

Mags: :p

Reve: What kind of backlash destroys a phone, anyways?

Reve: ... Cara she HIT me. With our MATH homework. please use your esper powers to save me?? 

Mags: She doesn't have her powers yet, dummy.

Reve: I knowwwwww, I'm just joking! 

Reve: seriously, though - Cara, if you need anything, please please please let us know, ok?

Reve: ...I know we haven't been hanging out as much lately, and I know that's mostly my fault, and I'm sorry. But I've been reading about hell week, memoirs and stuff, and - it seems really isolating and miserable, so if you need anything, please - don't be a stranger, okay? 

Mags: ^^^^ 💙🩵

...Cara sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks, furniture strategy forgotten in the roiling emotions,