You see, there's this very British thing that very British people do when it comes to comfort and consoling one's melancholic temperament, and that is: making tea. The making of said tea probably comes with the drinking of said tea to complete the whole comfort cycle, but the Doctor has found that it's the act of putting on the kettle and pouring the hot water to steep those fine-smelling leaves that serves as the comforting bit. And so Sam will find himself walking in on what appears to be the Doctor having prepared enough mugs of tea to comfort an entire small British village.
In fact, he's certain he's about to run out of mugs. ]
Oh! Yes, hello. Help yourself to tea if you'd like. I think I've made ... a fair amount of it.
[ Sam lets his gaze sweep over the assorted cups, the veritable army on offer here, and feels a strange calm settle over him. Right. He doesn't have the faintest, but something's going on here, and it's probably not too far fetched to guess...
People have been vanishing, haven't they. And he remembers holding it together on a roof above a jazz club until Bucky came, just so he could break down on someone before moving on to tell Yelena and Tony, and then everyone else, back when Natasha had vanished. Apparently, the Doctor instead breaks down on a repetitive, soothing task.
Alright then. Sam nods. ]
Think you could do me a fresh one so it's nice and hot? [ He touches the outside of a mug with the back of his fingers, not surprised to find it cool rather than warm, much less hot. ] I'll get started on the dishes while you do. I can just sort of exist at the sink for a steady supply of clean mugs.
[ Keeps his voice soft. A pointed look, but not an unkind one. Because that's the thing about coping mechanisms. Sometimes you gotta quietly be there through them, even if they're not the perfectly healthiest. Long as they're not harmful to anything but their supply of tea - easily remedied - Sam doesn't consider an intervention helpful here. But a quiet presence helping the Doctor keep the ritualistic step-by-step process going? Whatever brings him comfort. And if at some point he feels comfortable enough to talk, then Sam's already there. ]
[ Now that he's been interrupted, it takes him a moment to glance over at the collection of mugs of various shapes, sizes, and depths, all filled with tea. Most of them are, yes, as Sam has accurately observed, cool now to the touch. Hardly drinkable, really.
Oh, well. ]
Yes, I suppose they've cooled beyond drinkable. A missed opportunity for a post to the network. Free tea! All flavours!
[ He chuckles, but it feels a little emptier than usual. He has already started moving towards the kettle for fresh hot water though. Best to make a new pot of it, specifically for Sam's request, but also ... yes. It keeps his hands busy. ]
Did you want some biscuits along with it? I think we should still have some.
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Well.
You see, there's this very British thing that very British people do when it comes to comfort and consoling one's melancholic temperament, and that is: making tea. The making of said tea probably comes with the drinking of said tea to complete the whole comfort cycle, but the Doctor has found that it's the act of putting on the kettle and pouring the hot water to steep those fine-smelling leaves that serves as the comforting bit. And so Sam will find himself walking in on what appears to be the Doctor having prepared enough mugs of tea to comfort an entire small British village.
In fact, he's certain he's about to run out of mugs. ]
Oh! Yes, hello. Help yourself to tea if you'd like. I think I've made ... a fair amount of it.
no subject
[ Sam lets his gaze sweep over the assorted cups, the veritable army on offer here, and feels a strange calm settle over him. Right. He doesn't have the faintest, but something's going on here, and it's probably not too far fetched to guess...
People have been vanishing, haven't they. And he remembers holding it together on a roof above a jazz club until Bucky came, just so he could break down on someone before moving on to tell Yelena and Tony, and then everyone else, back when Natasha had vanished. Apparently, the Doctor instead breaks down on a repetitive, soothing task.
Alright then. Sam nods. ]
Think you could do me a fresh one so it's nice and hot? [ He touches the outside of a mug with the back of his fingers, not surprised to find it cool rather than warm, much less hot. ] I'll get started on the dishes while you do. I can just sort of exist at the sink for a steady supply of clean mugs.
[ Keeps his voice soft. A pointed look, but not an unkind one. Because that's the thing about coping mechanisms. Sometimes you gotta quietly be there through them, even if they're not the perfectly healthiest. Long as they're not harmful to anything but their supply of tea - easily remedied - Sam doesn't consider an intervention helpful here. But a quiet presence helping the Doctor keep the ritualistic step-by-step process going? Whatever brings him comfort. And if at some point he feels comfortable enough to talk, then Sam's already there. ]
However long you gotta keep at it.
no subject
Oh, well. ]
Yes, I suppose they've cooled beyond drinkable. A missed opportunity for a post to the network. Free tea! All flavours!
[ He chuckles, but it feels a little emptier than usual. He has already started moving towards the kettle for fresh hot water though. Best to make a new pot of it, specifically for Sam's request, but also ... yes. It keeps his hands busy. ]
Did you want some biscuits along with it? I think we should still have some.