He Saw Her
Author's Note: So episode 4.15 was so amazing with Joan and Arthur moments, but I really had no intention of writing anything based off the episode. Apparently my brain had other ideas right when I was trying to go to bed. I wrote them all down and started writing the actually story the next morning. I'm not sure it turned out quite as smoothly as it was going in my head, but hopefully it is decent enough.
Sure, Arthur had a rather large stab wound in his side and back plus a multitude of stitches, but there were few times he'd been happier. Perhaps happier wasn't quite the right word. Maybe relieved or content would be better. He wasn't really sure what word best described what he was feeling. Joan was okay, they were together, and that was all that mattered.
He reached out and gently stroked her hair. Ever since she'd walked in he hadn't done much else. They'd talked or rested in silence for the entire day with very little time apart. Unless the times earlier in the day when he'd fallen asleep thanks to the painkillers counted as apart, which he really didn't. Eventually the strain of the day finally took its toll and Joan had fallen asleep curled up next to him. That had been a little over an hour ago. She shifted slightly and wound up pressing more of her body against Arthur's injury. He winced but refused to move. If he tried to slip out from under her he could accidentally wake her, and that wasn't what he wanted. A little pain was well worth it if she could sleep comfortably. With how far along she was in her pregnancy she was a restless sleeper even at home. Considering they were both sharing his tiny hospital bed Arthur was rather surprised she'd managed to fall asleep at all. He definitely hadn't, though that had nothing to do with being uncomfortable. There was too much on his mind. He had almost lost her. Even now, half a day after he'd been bleeding to death in a barn, the thought of her death nearly took his breath away. Arthur had to stroke her hair again to remind himself that he had no reason to panic anymore. She was fine, and she was here with him.
She hadn't wanted to leave him any more than he'd wanted to be alone. Minus the few times Joan had needed to leave the room for bathroom or food trips, there hadn't been a moment when they didn't have some form of physical contact until the nurses had come in to inform them that visiting hours were over. Joan had been far from pleased. She'd fought vehemently with them about leaving since it was something she was not willing to do. She was staying the night whether she was allowed to or not.
"Mrs. Campbell, your husband needs rest."
"And he'll rest better if I'm here with him where he knows I'm safe."
"I'm sorry, but once visiting hours are over you can't stay."
Joan's eyes narrowed darkly and she took a power stance Arthur had seen many times before. It was her "director" look. The one that said she expected to be obeyed and wouldn't back down if she wasn't.
"I'm not leaving him. If you want me to go you'll have to get security to drag me out."
The nurses hadn't been sure what to say to that and left Joan and Arthur alone. Having won that battle, Joan promptly returned to Arthur's side and curled up next to him again. Hours later she was still next to him. He honestly couldn't decide what had been the key factor in letting her stay. Maybe she was being shown leniency because she was pregnant. Of course it could have just as easily been because of Joan herself. She was Joan after all. Scary and hard as steel were normal parts of her repertoire. She was very good at using her talents too. Arthur knew that. He'd been on the receiving end of her glares and sharp words more than once. In the end it didn't matter why she'd been allowed to stay; only that she was there.
He pulled her hand into his and stroked her knuckles. Her hand was so small in his own, her fingers so slender. Arthur couldn't help thinking that those hands that could take out terrorists seemed incredibly fragile. It wouldn't be hard to shatter her hand. Worse yet, it wouldn't be much harder to shatter her and end her life. Luck and Joan's talent as a spy had gotten her through. She'd told him what had happened and how close it had been. Too close. Far too close. He kissed her fingers before resting her hand back across her stomach and returning to stroking her hair. She was his world and almost losing her had reminded him of that. He desperately needed her in his life.
Arthur had thought he'd understood her concerns and fears about raising their child alone, but he'd been wrong. After everything that had happened that day he finally understood true terror. As he'd lain on the barn floor all he could think about was her lifeless body on the floor of their home. That image had pierced his soul and left a wound that bled figuratively as much as the one on his back bled literally. The moment he'd realized her life was in danger all concern for himself was gone. No matter what happened to him, he had to keep her safe. If making the decision to call her instead of calling for help cost him his life he would have been fine with that. Joan and the baby were worth it. They always would be.
He continued stroking her hair and watching her. As he watched she tucked her arm almost under her cheek and nestled into it. The change in position had pulled the blanket off of her so Arthur gently pulled it up again and draped it over her shoulder. She made a quiet noise of contentment, and he smiled. He'd watched her sleep like this early in their marriage and had always thought she was beautiful. None of the times before came close to how much the sight of her was touching his heart at that very moment though. He didn't want to take his eyes off her. When he'd first woken up after his surgery his first thought was of her. He'd needed to see her to prove to himself that she was fine. That hadn't changed much so far. It was one of the reasons he kept touching her in one way or another. Feeling her hair or her arm beneath his fingers was reassuring and comforting. They'd been fighting so long that he hadn't been seeing her in the same light because of his own anger. It was time to make up for that now.
Arthur shifted to find a more comfortable position to watch Joan, but the creaking and movement of the bed drew her out of sleep. Awake now, she tried to turn toward him. Her condition and the lack of space made that impossible. Despite that she kept trying until Arthur rested a soothing hand on her arm.
"Shh. Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Arthur?" Joan asked sleepily. "You're still awake?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. I'm probably keeping you up, and you need sleep."
She moved to get up so he could have the bed to himself and get the sleep he needed to recover, but again Arthur stilled her.
"Stay. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Sleep."
"Okay," Joan said softly as she reached up and touched his hand. "I love you."
"I love you too, Joan. More than I could ever put into words."
"You don't need to put it into words." And he didn't. She understood and felt the same way. "I'm so glad you're alright."
"You're alright too. That's what matters."
"What matters is we're here together," she corrected.
"Together," Arthur confirmed warmly. "Now go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere."
"Good because I'm not either."
Joan tugged on his wrist to get his arm draped over her the way she wanted and held tightly to it while she snuggled in for sleep again. Arthur let her cling to him and kept his eyes on her. He wasn't giving her any indication that he was watching, but somehow she knew.
"Arthur. Sleep."
"Sorry. I can't help myself."
"Sleep," she reiterated.
"Sleeping."
She chuckled and mumbled, "Liar."
Arthur grinned and closed his eyes to obey her. His beautiful, amazing, strong wife would be there, safe, the next morning. He could sleep comfortably with her at his side.
