Quietly, Carolina slipped her hand into York's. She sat at his bedside, her eyes rapt to his face. Half was covered in bandages, hiding the burned flesh underneath. She knew that if she were to pull his blankets down, the bandages would continue down along his entire left side.
The right side of his face was left uncovered, saved by the quick thinking of Agent Texas. It was peaceful in its drugged sleep, and if she focused only on that half, she could pretend that nothing was wrong.
She couldn't say how long she sat there, unable to leave. Hours at the least, it could have been days for the all the attention she paid to the passage of time. Still she couldn't bring herself to end her vigil, not when the threat to his life had only just passed.
Sometime during the night a medic had come in to check his vitals, reminding her that he'd be okay. She didn't need to stay all night, he had said, she should take a break and rest for when he had more strength and would be aware of her presence. When she'd ignored his suggestion he'd offered to have a cot rolled in so she could sleep without leaving him. That too she had refused.
She couldn't get it out of her head that he still might not get better, despite the doctor's words. He'd been her rock since they met in the program, her confidant when she had something to say, her friend when she needed a smiling face. Now she might be losing all that.
She wasn't going to move from her seat at his side until he woke. Only then would she be able to convince herself that he really would be okay.
Despite her insistence that she'd stay awake, sometime past midnight she felt her body fighting her intentions. Her eyes started to droop, and she couldn't suppress yawn after yawn.
Just as she was about to nod off, she felt his hand tighten on hers. Her eyes flew open, and she moved to pull her hand away, suddenly embarrassed by the close contact.
His grip tightened again, not letting her go and she moved her eyes up to his face. His right eye was slowly opening, glazed from the heavy dose of painkiller they had given him, but still he saw her.
"Now isn't this a lovely sight to wake to." He spoke slowly as if unsure of his voice, but it was filled with all the warmth she remembered.
She smiled at that, knowing full well how she looked. Her hair was a mess and in need of a wash, and her clothes were rumpled from spending the night in the infirmary. "Not as good as seeing you awake." She was surprised to here the thickening of emotion in her own voice.
He stared at for a moment, something strange in his eye which she accounted to the drugs. Very quietly he said, "No, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen 'Lina."
She blushed at that, hating herself for acting like a silly schoolgirl. Besides, it wasn't like it meant anything, he was too delirious for her to take anything he said seriously.
"York, you're half blind and pumped full of painkillers. You'd say Maine was beautiful in your state," she replied.
"No," he shook his head slowly, cringing from some pain hidden under his bandages. "But you are."
She smiled ruefully but decided it was better to just drop it. "How do you feel?" she asked instead.
That got that foolish look out of his eye, and instead he grimaced. "Like I've been run over by a herd of elephants, shot in the head a few times, then blown up by a grenade for good measure."
"Not quite," she replied. "But you've got the last one right."
He reached up to the bandages on his face at that point, as if only noticing them now. He fingered them curiously, while Carolina watched, nervous of his reaction. Finally he asked, "What did the doctors say?"
She sighed, but resigned herself to reply. "You'll get better they said, but York, you'll never see out of your left eye again. There was nothing they could do for it."
He seemed to sink further into the mattress. A lost expression came into his eye and she left him to his thoughts. Instead she took the time to breath a deep sigh of relief.
He was okay. He was still York. He might never look the same, but inside he wouldn't change.
When she looked back up at York, it wasn't just the pensive look she noted in his eyes, but exhaustion was etched there as well. He'd been through an ordeal, and despite having slept most of the day and night away he was still exhausted.
"You should sleep," she said.
He looked up at her, breaking out of his thoughts. "You'll stay won't you?" To her shock there was a pleading note in his voice, and even more in his eye. "You'll always stay with me won't you?"
"I'll be here all night," she said gently. "I'll stay with you."
She didn't miss the hurt in his eye but she couldn't bring herself to say anything more. Something held her back. Was it fear?
Nodding slowly, as if he knew he couldn't expect anything more from her, he closed his eye, and after a time his breathing fell into a slow, steady rhythm.
In the quiet of the room, with him asleep beside her she suddenly felt the courage she never had when she was with him. Softly, more to herself than him, she whispered, "Always."
Content that he was okay, she lent back in her seat to catch a few hours of sleep herself. As she moved to slip her hand out of his, again she felt his grip tighten, refusing to let go.
Author's Note: I'm not sure if I like this one as much as the first, but I hoped you enjoyed it anyway. Let me know what you thought :)