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Christina has no idea how she didn't see this coming. It's so obvious. For some reason, she never considered the possibility that French cuisine could be a trigger for her. But here she is, sitting at a table in Paris surrounded by leading astronauts from space agencies all around the world— she should be in her element! But the dishes in front of her are all extremely unfamiliar, and now she has no idea how she's going to get through the rest of this dinner.
It's day two of the ESA summit, and this is the first time they are being served a meal during a meeting. It wouldn't be polite to decline… she doesn't have a good reason to, and she can't think of any excuses as panic begins to cloud her mind.
She's sitting between Sophie and Jeremy. She's not sure if sitting next to a French person is providing her with comfort, or exacerbating her anxiety. At least she can look to her if she needs help understanding how to eat something; but she definitely can't vent to Sophie about her fear of eating her cuisine.
Jeremy has some French blood in him too, that's how Canadians work, isn't it? This is really her worst nightmare. (Aside from the time Jeremy threw up on her during centrifuge training; that was worse)
One of the dishes in front of her doesn't even look edible; it just looks like a cluster of sea shells. When she watches Sophie use a utensil she's never seen before to pull something green and slimy out from one of them, she doesn't feel any better.
Can people normalize buffets in fancy settings like this? It would make life a whole lot easier.
"You okay?" Jeremy asks her quietly. She nods, plastering a smile onto her face. "I'm good!" She's not sure he buys it. He knows about her strained relationship with unfamiliar foods, but thankfully, he doesn't press any further.
She takes a deep breath and tries to mirror Sophie's motions. Tears are simmering just beneath the surface, and she can feels her breathing beginning to quicken despite her efforts to maintain— at very least, the illusion of— composure. She avoids having to talk by making sure it always looks like there's food in her mouth. "You must be hungry!" Jessica says with a sincere grin.
Multiple people laugh along, and Christina attempts a smile that feels more like a grimace. She hates when people comment on her eating, but if she opens her mouth to respond she's going to cry, and that's not an option right now.
Minutes feel like hours as she tries to at least make it look like she's eaten most of her meal. She doesn't participate in conversation at all, instead consciously forcing her expression not to give away how miserable she feels.
Once she decides she can't eat anymore, she dissociates, her mind involuntarily ticking through the myriad of worst-case scenarios of what could happen when the food reaches her digestive tract. There are so many terrifying kinds of food poisoning, and she hates that she knows them all off the top of her head.
Christina has no idea how much time passes before she notices people starting to stand around her. "Tina?" Jeremy lays a hand on her shoulder. She flinches, the touch abruptly snapping her out of her rumination.
"Are you okay?" he asks again, leaning down slightly in order to communicate discreetly. She nods, still not trusting herself to speak. Jeremy frowns, but is roped into another conversation before he is able to say anything else. Sorry, he mouths at her as he is pulled away, his face an image of concern.
Christina stands slowly, trying to find a focus point to keep herself grounded. She spots Victor from across the room and makes a beeline for him, not sparing a glance at anything or anyone else.
"Hey, Chris— sorry, yeah, I'll talk to you later!" Victor immediately wraps up the conversation with whoever he was talking to as soon as he sees the look on her face.
He places a hand on her back, leading her into a corner, so they are slightly separated from the buzz echoing throughout the hall. "What's going on?" he asks her.
"Hmmm…" she whines, her eyes wide and glassy with barely restrained tears. She knows what she wants to say— It's too loud in here. The food was too unfamiliar. My brain won't slow down and I can't breathe. I need to get out of this room before I have some sort of meltdown— but her mind is whirring, and her senses feel so heightened that the words stick like cement to the back of her throat.
"Do you want to go back to our rooms?" Victor offers, trying to interpret the situation as best he can given her limited communication. She nods immediately and grips his hand so he can lead the way.
They collect Jeremy on their way towards the elevators, but can't spot Reid. Christina doesn't focus on that, or the conversation between the boys as they make their way up to the hotel room. She just concentrates on the prospect of getting to a safe, quiet place, away from watchful and judging eyes.
When Jeremy unlocks the door to their shared room, she rushes inside, nearly shutting the door in his face. "It's my room too…" he says with a hesitant laugh as he follows her inside, closing the door behind him.
Christina collapses onto her bed, trying to talk herself down. She's safe… but she's not. She's in an unfamiliar country with only her crew (who she loves very dearly) and no way to get home. Thinking about the distance and the difference from everything she knows and loves freaks her out even more…
She tries not to cry, she really does, but the tears are already flowing; she can't hold it in anymore. Her sobs come out choked and desperate. She's hyperventilating, hugging herself, and trembling so hard that her teeth chatter together.
Jeremy's at her side in seconds. "Are you in pain?" She shakes her head. There's nothing physically wrong with her.
"No, I just… I'm not having… a good night…" she hiccups, forcing the words out between breaths. Jeremy blinks at her, unsure of what to do. "I… hated… every second… of that dinner… and now I feel… panicked and guilty and anxious and homesick and-"
"Christina, it's okay… I know your brain is telling you that it's not, but I promise you're gonna be okay. There are so many people in this building who adore you. We won't let anything bad happen to you. Do you want Reid? Victor? Jessica? Name an astronaut and I'll get them up here." She shakes her head.
"I just-" She tugs on his arm, pulling him closer to her. She needs pressure: deep, safe pressure to calm her body down. Jeremy shifts towards her, and is only a little surprised when she wraps her arms around his waist, gripping his shirt like a lifeline.
"Okay, can I-?" She nods before he can even explain what he means.
"Alright…" He gently pulls her into his lap, settling them both against the pillows and headboard of the bed. Christina immediately buries her face into his side.
"I don't want to be disrespectful… but I also can't do that again…" she tells him between sobs.
"Don't worry about that right now… we'll come up with a plan for the rest of the week later on. What can we do for you tonight?"
Is it bad that she already knows precisely what she needs?
"Can I have my comfy clothes… and some mouthwash?" she murmurs, "And could you maybe play with my hair?"
Jeremy is definitely surprised by the immediacy of her answer. "Yeah, we can… do all of that…" He grabs his phone, shooting off a few text messages.
He helps her change into a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and then they find some travel mouthwash that Victor had packed. Afterwards, they settle back on Christina's bed.
"How does one play with hair?" Jeremy asks, feeling completely out of his depth. "You just play with it, there's not a right or wrong way… Do you not do this with Catherine, or your daughters?" she asks, furrowing her brow.
"Catherine hates people touching her hair, so does Ashley. I'm not sure about Katelyn…" Christina hums in acknowledgment. She used to be like that, but definitely isn't anymore.
"You could braid it…" she suggests, looking out the window at the Paris sunset.
"That I can do…" she smiles. She loves that all three of her crewmates are girl dads. The tiny things– like braiding hair, always carrying spare tampons, or treating her with simultaneous respect and familial care— are so, completely natural for them, but bring her a greater sense of security than she cares to admit.
Jeremy braids her hair into a very loose, messy braid and then does it again. It keeps her grounded as she fights the voices in her head that are insisting she's going to get sick.
When Reid and Victor come to check on them an hour later, they find them both asleep on Christina's bed. Christina's hair is half-braided and Jeremy is practically spooning her.
"Should we wake him?" Reid quietly asks Victor, who is snapping a quick picture. "No… they're content there." Victor decides. Reid wants to ask how he knows that, but then he realizes that he's never seen Christina so calm directly after a panic attack… or, whatever it was that she experienced.
Reid nods and they return to their room, locking Christina and Jeremy's door for them on the way out.
—
Christina wakes nearly ten hours later, with Jeremy still asleep at her side and a sense of safety that feels almost unfathomable given yesterday's events. She may not have her husband, her dog or her own bed, but she truly does have the best crew on the planet and right now, that's more than enough for her.