Resting her head to the rapidly heating tiles of the shower wall, Steph closes her eyes, letting out a slow hiss as the water beat down against her aching shoulders.
There was a good chance all her upper back would be the same color as her suit come morning, but that was just part of the job. Taking a deep, almost soothing breath of the steamy air in, she slowly straightened up, and took to washing the blood (not hers, this time) from her hair, gingerly prodding at her ribs.
After the shower, that cleaned her, but didn't make her feel any better, she shuffled off to her bed, pulling on her well loved blue and purple striped pyjamas, flopping face down, unmoving.
If aches, pains, a little blood and going to bed sore was her penance to pay, she would continue to pay it, until she was no longer able to. ’There's room in our line of work for hope, too.’template credit.