As a medical man, there was a lot Doc could learn from the rate of someone's pulse. A racing heartbeat could be anger, panic or excitement and arousal. Fear could make it stop for a moment, the sudden lack of the internal rhythm shaking a person to the core. Surprise could make it stutter, missing a beat. A slower, steady and strong beat was relaxation, peace, sleep.
A weak one, with long lapses between beats, was one he as more familiar with than he would like. It meant someone was in trouble, hurt probably bleeding. Maybe dying.
How many times in his dreams had he reached for her, searched for a pulse and found nothing? How many times had he felt his own heartbeat in his ears, drowning out all other sounds as he realized that that meant?
Now the steady thump thump of a healthy heartbeat chased those old fears away, grounding him in this moment. It was the most soothing thing Doc had ever felt, his fingers gently laid across the carotid artery in Deena's neck as each beat reassured him of her presence.
She was here.
She was alive.
For the first time in years he felt like he could breathe.
Before Deena came into his life, he'd never put much stock in love, and even less in monogamy. With her those things didn't seem as stifling, as terrifying. With her it was all he wanted, to spend the rest of his life taking care of her, learning everything about her-her thoughts, her dreams, her fears-and just being able to bask in her presence.
Losing her had felt like dying, finding her again was a dream come true.
One he was terrified of waking up from.
That was how he ended up here; lying in bed with her resting in his arms, feeling her breath on his skin and her pulse against his fingers too afraid to go to sleep. It had been three nights since they were reunited, three nights he didn't dare close his eyes until exhaustion caught up to him.
He didn't want to fall asleep ever again, not with her here, where he could count her heartbeats.
His proof she was alive.