A Sister to the Creed
Another unmanageable groan escaping sleep jolted Tasha awake. Her vigil at Connor's bedside was exhausting, but she refused to leave. He had been unconscious for hours, the agony of his injury dragging him into a troubled slumber, finally. He had been writhing in agony for hours after she and Achilles had been summoned to Dr. White's. Dr. White said he hadn't broken any ribs but the bruising splattered on his side spoke otherwise. He had difficulty breathing and could not find a comfortable position to rest, and each movement resembled torture. Her own body screamed as she lifted herself from the kneeling pose she had somehow fallen into. She rubbed at the indents molded into her arms and legs from the rug and bed had left and winced at the soreness and stiffness that lingered. She laboriously dragged herself from the floor and quickly studied her charge. In the vague morning light, Tasha could see the gleam of sweat coating all of his exposed skin. Each shallow breath brought a pang of pain to his face. She fumbled for the damp cloth she had been using to dab at the fever he had somehow developed. The rag was no longer cold and wet with Connor's sweat than actual water. He kicked feebly at the blankets covering his legs as Tasha tried to comfort him.
"Tasha dear, did you sleep at all?" Diana whispered as she entered the room with a fresh bowl of water and some blankets dangling from her arm. She quickly emptied her arms and pulled the drenched blankets from Connor's legs. Diana soaked a fresh cloth in water and placed it delicately on the blotches of bruises blooming across his ribcage. He stirred, his eyelids fluttering, his head lolling side to side. Tasha watched as Diana slowly eased herself onto the bed and tried to hush Connor back into his unrest. As she rubbed the sleep or lack of, from her eyes, Dr. White filled the space next to Tasha and gave her a reassuring shoulder squeeze.
"I want you to sleep." His tone was serious and concerned. As Tasha began to stand to protest, her legs, numb from being sat on, gave out. Dr. White assisted her into a nearby chair and with an understanding and sympathetic voice explained that she needed to rest so that she could help Connor recover. He needed her strength for the times when he didn't have any, he needed her gentle female hand to take his mind off the pain, and he needed her…needed her. Tasha understood and reluctantly loitered near the bed before wandering into the next room and collapsing onto the bed there. She had assumed she would have trouble falling asleep, but she was wrong and collapsed easily into peacefulness.
Each day was similar to the last. Tasha guarded Connor, watching Dr. White monitor his recovery, Diana struggling to get him to drink water and eat, Achilles hovering in the doorway almost every day as the other homesteaders came and went in a blur. Each night Dr. White had to force her into a bed.
"You are…still here." Connor mumbled after Tasha nearly chased Dr. White out of the room. She had been facing the door with her arms crossed under her breasts when Connor spoke. She whirled around to face him and rushed to his side.
"Ratonhnhake:ton…" She whispered his name in relief as she pulled back the blankets to check his injuries. He lifted his hand to stop her; he did not want her to access his wounds; to see him in his weakness. She shooed his hand away and lowered the blanket to his waist, just as Dr. White had done every time he checked on Connor. She held her palm inches above the bruising, feeling the heat radiate from his body. She watched the slow rise and fall of his necklace as his breathed from the corner of her eyes. Tasha absently reached for the cloth and wrung it out before placing against his forehead. She studied his face; the slow trickle of water dripping from the cloth and the faint fevered haze in his eyes. Tasha watched his face twitch with each breath.
"You need to sleep." She was overwhelmed with alleviation at seeing him finally open his eyes and speak to her, but she knew his wellbeing was more important than her desire to feel him respond to her touch. He held her cheek and slowly rubbed his thumb under the dark circles of her eyes and pointed out the obvious,
"I am not the only one." Tasha slowly climbed into the bed with Connor and slipped under the blankets. She was careful to avoid his side that was blemished with bruises and nuzzled her head against the side of his chest. He welcomed her next to him by gently squeezing her body closer to his with a feeble tug. Tasha hesitantly placed her hand on his bare chest, but as soon as she made contact, Connor held her hand firmly against him. She relaxed, not realizing she had been tense and fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart.