Ever notice how in Gongman harbor, Tigress didn't wake to Po calling her name, but to him taking her hand?

Surfacing

Twenty years. Twenty years since she'd arrived at the foot of thestairs to the palace for the first time. Twenty years since she took her very first kung fu stance against an imaginary opponent. Twenty years since she'd been instructed to strengthen her palms, as her specific style would require a lot of impact to them in combat. Twenty years that she'd been spending the second half of her daily training amidst the ironwoods, as per Shifu's instruction. Twenty years of shouting kiais with every deadly blow at the indestructible bark. Twenty years of training, twenty years of numbness in her hands. And it had paid off, ever since then not a single blow to those hands had caused her any pain in combat. She could deliver swift, strong punches and block even harder ones merely with her palms, thanks to the two long decades she had spent numbing them. Yet somehow, after taking a cannonball to the gut and being forcefully thrown onto driftwood in the Gongman harbor, those strong hands failed her for the first time. Laying on her injured stomach, face down and fighting unconsciousness that the shock of pain was threatening to bring, she vaguely heard a voice through the fog in her head. Her name, perhaps. From a comforting, familiar voice. Yet not enough to wake her, only to briefly occupy her mind as she drifted further from consciousness.

"Tigress?" And suddenly, her palm awoke.

She lifted her head, shocked from the sensation in her paw. For the first time in 20 years, her numb paw was responding to touch. She smiled at it's source, floating in front of her. He looked at her with an even mixture of concern, apology and confusion. The confusion most likely stemming from the fact that though they were surrounded by an enemy army, weakened by injury and in spirit, and to top it all off, most likely at the brink of surrender- she was smiling. Weakly, but with genuine joy. But how could she not? The first time that cannon had been aimed at him, she had failed to protect him. She'd though him dead, and rightfully so as she'd seen him become a projectile and shoot far away from her protection. But this time, she'd succeeded in keeping him alive. Not only for the sake of China and it's warrior, but for the sake of her need for him to be alive. She was proud. Proud she'd taken the bullet for him, proud she'd moved him in time, and proud of him for surviving. And so she smiled. Wolf army or not, he was alive and well and right in front of her instead of in front of a canon. His hand in hers felt warm and safe, and how good it felt to be able to feel that.

But the little strength she had was beginning to fail her, and her heavy head fell to the wood once again. Her grip on his hand tightened as she began to near unconsciousness again. She allowed it this time, comforted by the tender sensation in her palm and the warm, almost protective hand atop her shoulder. Against the circumstances, she was as content as she could ever remember in this exact moment. Her mind swirled in sleepy, painful fog as she began to forget exactly where she was. And suddenly, the only two points of sensation grounding her to reality were gone. She mustered the energy to open her tired eyes, to find herself unwillingly drifting away from the dragon warrior and the sense of serenity he had provided. Her eyebrows furrowed in discontent, and she somehow raised her arm towards him, extended her hand in a "come back" sort of fashion, partially because she missed the reborn feeling in her palm, and partially because he was leaving her protection.

Come back. She begged, but the words never made it out of her mouth. She had just gotten him out of the line of fire, and here was putting himself right back in it. She was almost willing to surrender, at this point. All hope was lost, nothing they could possibly do could save China at this point. They had just proved that. There was nothing left to do, but he was still trying anyway. She was proud of him for that, she thought, as she drifted further and further from him.

When all was said and done in Gongman, the masters returned to their homes and recruited volunteers to help clean up the city. The Five returned to their daily training routines at the Palace, after spending some time recovering. All was back to normal, albeit a certain member of the five no longer striking tree trunks for hours on end. Instead, she spent that time sparring. Perhaps, she thought, it was time to become a little less numb, and learn to embrace sensation once again. And of course, the dragon warrior was willing to help in that.