When she wakes up–and it probably can't even be called waking up, considering her head is pounding, her limbs feel like a geth ship dropped on them, and what is that clicking noise–there's a glass of water on her bedside table. No, wait, this is definitely not her bedside table. Last time she checked, it was full of datapads and an empty box of dextro noodles from the mess hall. This one had a glass of water (oh, there's a straw, beautiful), and a holo of her and–
Ah. Oh. She glances around the room, slowly as to not exacerbate her headache, and confirms her suspicions upon seeing (thankfully alive) fish swimming in their tank without a care in the world.
"Keelah."
There's a rustle from behind a wall of carefully assembled model ships, and Shepard appears next to the Destiny Ascension. Her brows (such an interesting human attribute) (then again, Liara has them too) are furrowed in what Tali has come to recognize as concern, and she's kind of slouching against the wall in what Tali has come to recognize as feigning peace of mind.
She furrows her own brows even though Shepard can't see. "I…said that outloud, didn't I."
Shepard gives a small smile and every part of her face softens. "Yep. How are you holding up? Is water alright? The extranet wasn't being very helpful when I tried to search 'hangover remedies for quarians."
She looks over at the water and contemplates reaching over for it, but no, no, any movement other than slight inclinations of her head and the room will start spinning again. "That's because quarians don't really drink that much. For good reason, ah keelah, I'm never doing this again. And water is wonderful, thank you. Could you uh…?" She raises a weak arm.
Shepard un-slouches and gently settles down on the mattress next to Tali. Carefully, very very carefully, Tali sits up just enough so she won't end up choking. Shepard places one hand, one very gentle and warm hand on her back, and the guides the straw towards her induction port with the other.
This shouldn't make her cheeks warm. "Thankyouagain." She coughs as the liquid coats her dry throat and the suit starts softly blinking as a sign that the biofilters are doing their job. "For the water. And for the straw in the water. And for….talking to me. And then bringing me back here. I'm sorry I was such a mess last night."
Shepard starts to rub her back. Tali wants to cry. "Of course. And I'm sorry. You've been bottling all that up for a long time. I know I haven't been as supportive as I should be."
She starts, and reaches out a hand to a soft cheek. (Thankfully, her headache continues its dwindle into a dull throb.) "Shepard, you're supporting the entire damn galaxy! I should have–"
"Tali, none of that matters if I can't be there for you." She inhales sharply and something warm stirs in her stomach, something that's been there since this was a Cerberus ship trying to take down the Collectors. Shepard's eyebrows are still furrowed.
She moves her hand to the side of her neck and leans in to press their foreheads together, and before Shepard she hadn't really thought about life outside her suit, but now she just hopes for that sunny spot on Rannoch where she can take off her helmet for good.
"Alright." Tali says. "But don't be afraid to come to me when you're feeling bad. I know you've been bottling things up too."
She leans back opens her mouth to say something but closes it with an exhale and a quirk of her lips, almost wry, but it's too damn sad. "Yeah. Yeah."
"You don't have to be unshakeable around me, Shepard. My suit is very tear-absorbent, especially on the shoulder pads."
Shepard laughs, big and full and beautiful, and leans back in. "Thank you," she says.