A/N: This was originally intended to be part of my longer story Loyalty, but that took a different turn, so here's a quick one-shot.
Joker's hair is still wet from his shower when he passes through security at the hospital. Shepard should be just about done with her therapy for the day, and he's brought holovids and an old chess set to distract her. Week four of her (conscious) hospital confinement isn't going well for anyone, and Joker's started to feel bad for the nurses.
He juggles four cups of coffee in one hand, a his crutch in the other. He drops three of them at the nurses' station, because nurses are either angels sent from heaven, and keeping them happy is just plain good sense. He misses the look of exasperation on the face of the orderly who passes out of Shepard's room as he enters.
The moment Joker crosses the threshold, though, he can tell that things have gone to hell in his absence. Shepard's curled up in her wheel chair, eyes clenched shut, head turned to the side so she doesn't have to face the prosthesis. Fuck, they weren't supposed to fit the thing until tomorrow. He wouldn't have left if he'd known.
The PT looks ten steps past screaming, and Joker wonders if Shepard's threatened her with a court-marshal or dishonorable discharge this time. It'd be funny, except Hackett's been a little too keen on giving the savior of the galaxy whatever she wants.
"Feeling sorry for yourself, Shepard?" Alliance triage procedure dictates Joker hand the PT the coffee he'd meant for Shepard. He drops the datapad on the bed and glances discreetly at Shepard's neck to make sure she doesn't have her biotic amp plugged in.
"Shut up, Moreau," she says, but there's no venom in it. She doesn't open her eyes to greet him.
"So where are we in the process, doc?"
The PT pinches the bridge of her nose. "Standing."
Joker nods. "Alright, Shepard, up and at 'em."
"Go away." Her voice is wet with the sound of unshed tears. "I'm too tired for this."
"Well why didn't you so, Shepard? If we'd known you were tired..."
She doesn't even glare, so Joker nudges the doctor's stool towards her chair, and maneuvers himself to sit beside her. The fracture in his tibia is healed enough to be weight bearing, but not enough to move quickly. Not bad for a crash landing, really.
"You cannot sit here and waste away." Joker lays a hand on her thigh, letting his fingers just brush the edge of the prosthetic cuff. It's always meant something to him when people aren't afraid to touch him, and he can only hope Shepard's the same. He squeezes hard, because he knows she's stronger than this.
Her eyes open at that, and the hatred in her gaze is scalding. "Fuck. You. You have no idea-"
Joker cuts her off with a derisive snort. "No idea? Come on Shepard, surely you can do better than that. I've got a pretty good idea."
"I don't need your warped cheerleading," Shepard says, but she forces herself to her feet, and Joker counts it as a victory.
The PT is good, the best if Liara's information is reliable, and doesn't tell Shepard 'good job' or any of that crap, just goes straight to work measuring, poking, making sure the fit is secure. It's rare to have to fit a prosthetic for more than temporary use, but there's not enough bio tissue to fit a clone to. Joker will never forget the horror on Shepard's face when they told her.
One more thing she's given to the war. In the list of words they don't say, 'active duty' and 'Normandy' are at the top. She'll never again be cleared for either.
Shepard makes it almost a full minute before her legs begin to tremble, another thirty seconds before she falls back into the chair.
"I hate this!" she screams.
This is the worst part, when the woman he loves is erased by pain and suffering, leaving only a scared little girl in her place. Joker ducks his head and lets the wave crash over him.
Her fists slam against the arms of her chair. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it." A push of biotics slams the bed against the wall, not for the first time, and probably not for the last. Even without her amp she's damned powerful. Her angry eyes settle on him."I hate you."
There's no good answer to that, but the anger ebbs as quickly as it came, and Shepard puts her head in her hands and sobs.
Joker pulls her into his arms then, holds her while she shakes. There are no words to be said, no platitudes to offer, and Joker doesn't try. He rubs circles on her back and wills the pain from her body. It's not long, though, before her tears subside, and though her breath still hitches on every inhale, she slides her arms around him and returns the embrace.
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
He's sorry too, but doesn't say it. Instead he answers her, "It's alright to fail, but not to give up." Those are the words his mother said to him every day after the surgery to implant rods in his bones, when standing was difficult and walking impossible. They are all he has to give her.
Shepard moves to sit up straight, once more aware of their audience. Before he lets her go, Joker presses his lips against her ear and growls, "I'm fucking proud of you, Shep."
Shepard pulls a breath, holds it, and turns back towards the PT. "What's next?"