Kaidan & Jane
His first thought in waking is of her, and she knows it, fingers gently running over his brow.
"Don't try to talk," she says. "You had a bad reaction to the anesthesia, and your airway collapsed. They had to put a tube in your throat. Thanks for that moment of terror, by the way."
He opens his eyes and finds her smile in the darkness. Only one lamp, somewhere behind him, illuminates the angles of her tired eyes. Her hair is long, longer than he's ever seen it, and pulled into a loose braid at her neck. He reaches out unsteadily, catching a few strands by her ear.
"My mom's here. Anderson, too. They're with the baby. Doctors want to run a few more tests. They're concerned about his low birth weight, but he's nursing just fine. They said it's nothing to worry ourselves over."
She fits her small hand around his, turning her face and kissing his palm. Her breath on his skin is feather-light and cooling.
"Garrus is with Tali. They put her in infectious isolation. Xeno-specialist here is in contact with quarian medical services on the Citadel. Mordin's helping. She's going to be sick for awhile, but she should be just fine."
She shifts, resting her head in his palm, and he traces the curve of her cheek with his thumb.
"Joker went back to EDI. Normandy's in retrofits or repairs or something. I wasn't paying that much attention. Jack's been standing guard outside for hours. Should pay her overtime."
She laughs for both of them, nuzzling into his hand.
"Everybody else scattered. Thane's around, I think, but Zaeed's gone. Kasumi disappeared. Grunt's waiting for a message from Urdnot. Samara went straight for a shuttle to asari space. Kirrahe's debriefing the Council. The marines are here, or getting reassignments at HQ. That lieutenant, Vega, he's still here somewhere."
He smiles around the tube—not that she can tell.
"I think that's everybody. Now you. One blink, yes. Two blinks, no."
So he blinks once.
"Okay. You in any pain?"
Two blinks.
"Do you want the doctor?"
Two blinks.
"Still love me?"
One blink, though he teases her with hesitation.
"You're mean," she says, catching his thumb with a light kiss. "You have any questions for me?"
He was always the communications specialist, while she was obsessed with mechanics—Morse code is a little outside her wheelhouse, so he brings his hands together as best he can, left fingers drawn to an unsteady point, coasting across his right palm.
"Write? You want to write it?"
One blink.
She rises and crosses out of his field of vision, tottering to the foot of the bed, where he can hear her rummaging through a series of drawers. She returns just as slowly, easing her body into the chair, pressing a stylus and datapad into his somewhat numb hands.
Every part of him strains to write, dragging the tip of the stylus like a stick through dried mud. It's barely legible to his eyes, but she leans forward, head tilted, and reads.
He has name yet?
Two blinks, almost instinctual he thinks, as she shakes her head and says, "Not yet. I was waiting for you."
Good. Had some ideas.