angelslietokeepcontrol:
“You don’t hate me, I’m touched.” Rye dramatically pressed her hand to her chest. She hopped off the table and started towards the wall. “I’m usually decent at patching myself up but head injuries always throw me off.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I bet you get concussed every week. At the rate you’re going, you’re better off walking around with a helmet,” she said as she watched her walk. “Any dizziness or nausea?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at her.













