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"Good evening, Major Alenko. Again. That was a short dinner break for you."
The nurse is the same dark-haired woman who'd been on duty all afternoon. I suppose they're all working ten-hour shifts these days, as short-handed as the hospital is. She looks tired now in an unguarded moment, but straightens her back as she checks Shepard's IV line and the monitors before moving toward the door.
"You look like you could use something to eat yourself." Rummaging in my pack, I fish up a protein bar and offer it to her, but she shakes her head.
"Not while I'm on duty. But thank you for the thought. I only have an hour to go, then I can grab something before sleep finds me."
"Okay, then." I turn to look at the man tethered to the bed by tubes and wires, forehead furrowing as I try to make sense of the life-support read-outs. "How's he doing? Any change?"
She shakes her head. "No change, Major. But you can take that as a good sign. He's stable... has been for the past eight hours." Her voice softens as she shifts from giving a medical report to trying to comfort the man who spends nearly every hour at this bedside. "You need to take care of yourself too. Did you even eat?"
Nodding, I put the protein bar on the bedside table. "I grabbed a sandwich and a cup of coffee. Terrible coffee, by the way. And I have some of these snack bars for later tonight. I'm fine."
"All right. I'll check back in twenty minutes or so. Just ring the call button if you need someone sooner."
"Thanks. I'll keep an eye on him."
I don't know if I was supposed to hear her last comment as she closes the hallway door behind her. "I know. You always do."
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Pulling the chair closer to Shepard's bedside, I'm just starting to try to get comfortable when I remember that there's something I wanted to do first. It's part of the reason for having had such a quick dinner – so I'd have time to stop by my makeshift quarters to pick up something I'd meant to bring with me yesterday.
I don't like being gone for long. The thought of him maybe waking up and finding himself alone twists my stomach into knots and makes my heart hurt. I'll never forget what he said to me in London, before... 'When this is over, I'm going to be waiting for you. You'd better show up.'
I open my pack, feeling more than a little self-conscious about what I'm planning to do. How strange is it that I've faced battlefields with less trepidation than I feel in deciding to display a simple item on a bedside table?
When Liara contacted me to tell me she was planning to stop by for a visit, she'd asked if there was anything I needed or wanted from the loft on the Normandy.
Once the Normandy had docked, my need to get here as fast as I could meant that I hadn't brought much with me. Just a duffle of clothes and a few data tablets. And Shepard's hoodie, now laid carefully on my pillow. During the long trip back to Earth, that hoodie had been my only source of comfort on sleepless nights.
I only asked Liara to bring one thing and told her where to find it. I run my fingertips over it now, a simple chrome frame enclosing a photo. Shepard had displayed it on his desk. When I was staying in his cabin alone... when I was so afraid I'd lost him for good, I'd tucked it away safely in the top drawer of his nightstand.
I'll never forget when the photo was taken. It was one of our last nights on the Citadel and Shepard had impulsively pulled me into a photobooth kiosk to pose for a few shots together. Some of them were just clowning around, but my favorite was the one where Shepard had his arm draped over my shoulder, his head leaning against mine, our faces close together. Both of us were smiling.
Before we left the kiosk, Shepard had insisted on getting one shot of just me. I didn't think it was a great shot personally, but Shepard said there something in my eyes and expression that just connected... That's the picture he'd framed and kept on his desk.
And it's the one I now hold in both hands for a long moment before swallowing my self-consciousness and placing it carefully on the bedside table, facing Shepard's hospital bed.
"There you are, John." My voice is the whisper I sometimes use when I talk to him here. "If you wake up and I'm not around, you'll know I've been here and will be back soon. You'll know I kept my promise."
Now I can settle into the chair and reach for the only part of him that I can touch without setting off alarms. Shepard's right hand had been less damaged than most of the rest of his body, and I've spent countless hours holding that worn hand in my own.
Tonight, alone together for a few minutes, I drop the whisper and speak aloud to him as my thumb strokes across the palm of his hand.
"I'm here with you. I don't know if you hear me, John, but always know that I love you."
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The door opens behind me, but I don't move as the dark-haired nurse returns. I might have drifted toward sleep or was just lost in thoughts and memories. As she adjusts Shepard's IV drip, she notices the addition to his bedside table.
There is understanding in her eyes and I smile at her comment. "That's a nice picture... you get that same look sometimes when you're watching over him."
I don't know how to reply to that and she continues with checking Shepard's vitals. Before she leaves, finally off-duty for the night, she catches my eyes.
"I'm glad he has someone who cares so much about him, Major."
"Just call me Kaidan, okay? You'll be seeing a lot of me in the next few months." I give Shepard's hand a light squeeze. Maybe one of these times, I'll feel an answering touch. My voice drops back to a whisper.
"I'm just so glad he's still here with me."
She dims the room light as she leaves. "Goodnight, Kaidan. Try to get some sleep."
Maybe. Right now I just want to watch over him in the darkness.
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