"Coffee," Beckett echoes, and then nods slowly, encouragingly.

It's a good start, at the very least, and she heads down the hallway to the guest bathroom, prepared to stand under the spray for as long as she needs.




Twenty minutes later, after doing her best to cover up where she can (though there's still some obvious marks peppering along the side of her neck), she reappears in the kitchen, wet hair pulled up and away from her face, looking a little more awake and alert than she was upon first waking up.