Shenko drabble. Feels. Spoilers. Etc.
Wake up.
Goddamn it, Shepard, wake up.
I sit by your hospital bed. I can't find the energy to speak, let alone move. My hand has been in yours since God-knows-when. I force my tired body forward and hunch my shoulders. The aches of the scars and the sleepless nights are starting to catch up with me. My jaw tightens, my teeth grind, I bite my chapped lip and I taste blood soon after. The sudden taste of iron and bitterness overwhelms me. "Goddamn," I growl, my breathing getting heavier.
You just look like you're sleeping. You haven't woken up yet, but they keep saying you will. I don't know if I believe them anymore. It's not fair that I made it out with a couple wounds and some stitches, and you're halfway to chewing your tongue for the rest of your life. The only nose in the room comes from those damned machines. Beeping, cold and cruel and out of tune at all hours. Why can't they wake you up? Why can't I wake you up?
Why can't I take your place.
I look up at you. I want to cry, but I don't. I'm past tears. I'm just… done. You promised you'd come out alive. I knew it was a front, but I needed it to be true. I clung to those words while I fought through those Reapers, Shepard, I did. You nearly died. To be honest, you should be dead. By some miracle, some act of God, you've still got a fighting chance. I think you always fought for your own chances.
"Shepard," I try to say, attempting regulation in my ragged breathing. No such luck. I can't see straight.
I force myself to let go of your hand. I can't hang on while I'm getting this worked up. I feel a forceful shiver of biotics run over my bones. I thought I'd been doing better at controlling my anger. I guess not.
"Fuck, Shepard, just wake up!" I cry through my gritted teeth. Nothing. Damn it. I knock the stack of papers from your bedside table onto the floor. I kick the wall. "Damn it!" I yell out. Next thing I know, there's a dent the size of my fist in the bathroom door. A noise rips from my gut that I didn't know I could make. I look down at my hands, trying not to go cross-eyed. Blue energy ripples out from my fingers. Another wave of anger flies through my muscles. I throw a couple mugs and plates onto the floor, and they shatter. You still don't stir.
I'm about to wind up and blow a hole straight through the wall, when a rough pair of hands grab my wrists and push me into the door.
"Damn it, Alenko, pull yourself together," Garrus's growl rings clear through my rage.
"Let go of me, Garrus," I try to shove him off, but he's got a grip on me. I let my muscles go slack and my face presses against the wall.
"I know you're upset, Kaidan, we all are. But blowing a hole through a hospital that doesn't have enough money or resources as it is is not going to solve a damn thing," he reasons with me, keeping his hold on my arms. The last of any biotic energy I mustered drains from my fists and I give up. Bitter tears come from my eyes, burning in streams down to my chin. I hate him in that moment, but I know that it's for the better if I listen to him.
"When's the last time you slept? Showered? Changed?" he asks, turning me around. I can't look at him. I can't even remember when I'd done any of those things. "Kaidan, for your sake, for our sake, for her sake, I'm begging you. Please, take some time for yourself."
He lets go of my arms and I move to the hallway without a word. I turn around and look at the chaos I'd just created. Guilt flushes out whatever anger I had left in me. An apology dances on my tongue but I can't open my mouth.
"I'll stay here, alright? I'll take care of her. Go get some sleep," he says, and all I can do is nod. I look across the room. You're still there. Still sleeping. Was this what you felt like when I was at Huerta?
I just need to see your eyes again. Hear your voice.
Damn it, Shepard. Just wake up.
