Somehow Medlab always seemed colder in the early mornings. Delenn shivered a little, pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders, and sipped experimentally at her mug of tea. It was just cool enough not to scald her tongue, but it still sent a tide of warmth running through her body until it concentrated in her chest. It was such a small comfort, but a much-welcomed one. She was incredibly grateful to the night nurse who had taken pity on her as she had stirred from her sixth night dozing on and off in her chair, upper body draped over Lennier's bed.
As always, the first thing she had done when she had woken was to make sure Lennier was still breathing. He had been, and his skin felt cool but not cold against hers – as usual, she had dozed off while holding his hand. Satisfied that her dear friend yet lived, at least for the moment, Delenn had blinked fiercely and tried unsuccessfully to rub the sleep from her eyes. She'd sat up slowly, wincing as her back cried out in protest at the less than ideal position in which she had spent yet even more time.
"Good morning, Lennier," she had whispered tenderly, the action of running her thumb over his knuckles now so embedded in muscle memory that she was barely aware she was doing it. She had glanced up at the vitals monitor above the bed. Over the past day, Lennier's temperature had finally declined to normal. Doctor Franklin had cautioned her that this was likely due to a combination of Lennier's exhaustion and kidney injury rather than a sign that he was recovering, but Delenn allowed herself a bit of relief at the fact that her friend was no longer burning up as he had been. High fevers in Minbari were such terribly scary things, and she was desperate to take comfort where she could. But it had been a week now since she had found Lennier feverish and confused in his quarters, and four days since he had last woken. Doctor Franklin continued to give him the artificial antibodies he needed to fight the infection and take his blood for analysis every few hours. Last he had told her, there had been no change. That was to be expected, he had reassured her. Lennier would not get better instantly, if he was to get better at all. He needed time. But the more time went by, the more unsettled Delenn began to feel again. And she missed her friend – his constant, steady presence at her side, perceiving and giving whatever she might need often without her even asking, be it a warm smile or reassurance or simple closeness. It was not just Lennier's role as her aide that Delenn had come to depend so much on – it was his friendship. And she would have given so much just to have her friend back right then.
Delenn had bit her lip as she reflected, and right then the nurse had come in to replenish the syringe of antibody and seen her troubled expression. Delenn had not looked in a mirror as of late, but she imagined she looked like a creature to be pitied.
"Ambassador?" the nurse had asked softly. It had taken Delenn, exhausted and lost in thought, a moment to realize she was being spoken to. She had jerked to attention.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the nurse had apologized.
"No, no. It's all right," Delenn had replied. "I am afraid a combination of grief and worry and lack of sleep have frayed my nerves quite badly. What can I do for you?"
"Actually, I was hoping perhaps I could do something for you," the young woman had said. Delenn had furrowed her brow curiously as the nurse continued. "It's just you've been here for days, and I think it's so wonderful that you haven't left your friend's side all this time. But you haven't been back to your quarters in so long, and since my shift is over now, I was wondering if there was something you'd like me to fetch for you."
Delenn had opened her mouth and then closed it again, at a loss for words at the simple yet pure kindness this young woman whom she did not even know was showing her.
"Thank you," she had managed finally. "I…I don't know what to say." She had felt tears spring to her eyes at the gesture, her heightened emotions taking over. The nurse had just smiled warmly at her and given her a few moments to collect herself.
And that was how Delenn had ended up with her favorite shawl and a large cup of tea. She had only asked for the shawl – the sweet nurse had brought her the tea of her own accord. Delenn had embraced her and thanked her once more for her kindness.
Now, Delenn sat wrapped up in the shawl, its familiarity helping to take the edge off of her anxiety just a bit. She had not realized how much she had missed it over the past days. It was for her an object of comfort; much like a stuffed toy gokk would be for a small child. The shawl was made of li'tiya, a soft, warm material woven in such a manner that it made the wearer feel as though they were being embraced.
Delenn had acquired it thirteen years previously at a market stall in Yedor, her home city. She had been visiting her father, and they had gone shopping together. It had been a wonderful day. They had laughed and talked and caught up on the events in each others' lives. Delenn had been preparing to be sworn into the Gray Council, and she could still remember how proud her father had looked as he smiled at her. ("My little ball of star-stuff, soon to be Satai!" he had exclaimed in wonder, and she had smiled at the use of his childhood term of endearment for her.) The shawl had caught her eye as they had walked past it, a deep red woven through with shining gold accents. Her father had seen her admiring it, and he had draped it over her shoulders and proclaimed how beautiful she looked in it and how she absolutely must have it. He had bought it for her on the spot, as a gift in celebration of her achievement. It was the last day Delenn had ever seen her father. She had gone back to work with Dukhat the very next day, and her father had passed beyond the veil before the war had ended, before she could see him again. And now, whenever she wrapped the shawl about her shoulders, she imagined she was being enclosed in her father's embrace. It made her times of trouble just the tiniest bit more manageable.
One of those times had been a few short weeks ago when she had been lying in Medlab herself, recovering from the wound she had sustained during the hostage crisis. Her and Lennier's places had been exchanged then, with her as the patient and Lennier ever at her side, his constant presence something to cling to as she endured her pain. Even though Doctor Franklin had reassured them that Delenn would be all right, Lennier had still worried. He had tried to hide it for her sake, but she knew him too well not to see it. And that worry had only heightened his already honed sensitivity to her needs and desire to serve her. She had been so grateful to him, and she still was. Every time she had awoken, he had been there, asking how she was feeling and how he could help her, all the while looking at her with those soulful, caring eyes that had dulled the pain from her wound and made her feel warm inside. After the worst was over, she had insisted that he go and get some sleep – he had looked so terribly exhausted, much like she now felt. After a bit of protest, he had left, and she had nodded off herself. When she had awoken, she had found Lennier dozing in the chair beside her bed, and she was tucked lovingly beneath her favorite shawl. She had not even realized he knew about the shawl – he had seen her wearing it, but she had never told him the story behind it. But Lennier was nothing if not incredibly perceptive – he had doubtlessly picked up on the fact that it was important to her and that wearing it brought her comfort. Delenn had been touched by the sweetness and thoughtfulness of the gesture, and the fact that he had noticed and remembered such a small detail.
"But that is kind of person you are," she murmured to her unconscious friend now, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "Always giving of yourself and asking nothing in return, and then thinking of new ways to give. My sweet Lennier."
She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Doctor Franklin approaching. He was holding a data pad in his hand, and something in his eyes gave her pause.
"Good morning, Doctor," she greeted him as he pulled up a rolling chair next to her.
"Good morning, Delenn," he replied. Was she imagining it, or did the ghost of a smile grace his lips? "I just got Lennier's latest blood work back, and there are some things I wanted to share with you, if that's okay."
"Of course." Delenn placed her tea on the floor and leaned forward, her heartbeat quickening with trepidation. If Franklin wished to speak with her about Lennier's test results, it meant something had changed. She could easily be misreading the doctor's body language in her desperation for some good news – perhaps the antibodies were not working after all, and she would still lose her dear friend even after all of this. But the more closely she studied Franklin, the more she began to suspect that something was different. He seemed to be attempting to conceal excitement, and the energy that radiated from him far surpassed anything he had given off over the past few days. Something was definitely afoot.
Franklin held the paper containing the laboratory results between them so that Delenn could peer at it. She had no idea what any of the strange words or numbers meant, but fortunately Franklin was very good at explaining things.
"There are a few values I've been keeping a particularly close eye on. The BUN and creatinine, here," he pointed to the corresponding numbers, "show his kidney function. They're not great, but they're better than they were. We'll keep dialyzing him and maintain a careful fluid plan and the damage should resolve itself."
Delenn nodded slowly, her tired mind working a million miles a minute trying to process what he was saying. But as was her way, she also tried to read the true message behind his words. We'll keep dialyzing him. The damage should resolve itself. Franklin seemed to be implying an indefinite time period for these things to occur. Did that mean what Delenn thought it meant? She felt her stomach flutter with hope, but she could not dwell on those thoughts any further, because Franklin was continuing his explanation.
"But now for the really important stuff. His blood antibody levels to Pseudocyanin ubique have risen and stayed up as we've continued to supplement him. They're far from normal, but the important thing – the really wonderful thing – is that they've brought his bacterial titers down considerably, and they're still dropping. And because of all of that, his platelet counts are rising – the DIC is resolving itself. Delenn, he's fighting the infection. And I think he's got a good chance at winning."
Delenn gasped, her hand flying to her cover her mouth. Her hopes had been dashed so many times as of late that she had not allowed herself to believe Franklin might have good news. But there it was. Lennier. Lennier was getting better. He was getting better. After all of her grief and worry, after all of her weeping at his bedside because she thought she would never hear his voice again, her dear friend was getting better. Delenn felt herself begin to tremble, overcome with emotion, and Franklin laid a hand on her arm.
"Nothing's certain yet. I'll feel a lot better when he wakes up. But things are looking so much better – they started a couple of blood panels ago, but I wanted to make sure the trends were real and not just an aberration before I told you."
"Oh, Doctor," whispered Delenn. It was all she could manage to say, so instead of speaking further, she threw her arms around him. Franklin returned her embrace warmly.
"I guess hope pays off sometimes, doesn't it?" he murmured.
"It always pays to hope," she whispered into his shoulder. "And there is always hope."
"Yeah, well…" he trailed off thoughtfully before releasing his side of the hug, and she followed suite, sitting back in her chair. "Like I said, I'll feel a lot better once he's awake and talking. Anyway, I have a lot of researching to do about what might have caused all of this. I'll be in my office, okay?"
Delenn nodded, squeezing his hand in gratitude as he rose and left. She studied Lennier. He was still terribly pale, with deep black circles beneath his eyes, and the small bruises that covered his skin as a result of the blood condition he had developed - DIC, as Doctor Franklin called it - were still present. But they were beginning to fade just the tiniest bit, and his breathing was more even than it had been. And the beeping of the monitor that tracked his heart rate was less fast and urgent.
Delenn grasped Lennier's hand in her own shaking one and held it up to her cheek so that his palm touched her skin.
"Oh, Lennier," she whispered. "You have done so well. You've been so brave and strong. I knew you could do it, and I am so proud of you." She lowered his hand down onto the bed in front of her, still holding it in her grasp. "I know you are tired and you desperately need your rest, and that I should not ask this of you so soon, but I want to hear your voice, Lennier. I need to know you that you will truly be all right."
She inhaled shakily, and her request sounded more like pleading than she had intended. But it reflected the true state of her heart – hopeful, but desperate and exhausted.
"Please wake up, Lennier. For me?"
She was so wrapped up in her emotions, which held her even more tightly than the shawl about her shoulders, that she almost missed it. But then she felt the slightest pressure of the hand within hers against her fingers. And then came just the softest of murmurs. She was barely even aware of it at first, but there it was - the voice she would have moved galaxies to hear over the past few days.
"I'd do anything for you, Delenn."
And suddenly those soft, loving eyes were looking up into hers and it was all Delenn could do to stop herself from taking his frail body into her arms, burying her face into his shoulder, and sobbing with joy.
"Lennier!" she cried, contenting herself with cupping his cheek in the palm of her hand. "Oh Lennier, I was so scared I would never hear your voice again. Oh, thank Valen you're awake, my dear, dear friend…"
The look in Lennier's eyes showed the same relief that she felt. His voice was hoarse and barely audible, but he smiled weakly at her and whispered words mirroring the last ones she had said to him before he had lost consciousness for what Delenn had feared so much would be the last time.
"Faith manages, Delenn."
"Yes, it does. It does manage." Her words came out half as a laugh and half as a sob. She felt him weakly press her hand as though he was trying to calm her, to tell her that everything was all right now. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and then sighed shakily and smiled at him. Despite the exhaustion apparent in his eyes, he gazed at her with such deep affection, as though he could not look at her enough – as though he had missed seeing her face as much as she had missed hearing his voice. For she had missed him so much. And she wished him to know what he meant to her.
"Oh, Lennier," she murmured, bringing his hand up to her heart for a moment before bringing it back down to rest on the bed again, still nestled in her grasp. "For the past week I have been sick at heart at the thought of losing you." Pain clouded his eyes at the reminder of the suffering he had caused her, but she stroked his knuckles reassuringly – he needed to know that none of this was his fault. Her touch seemed to calm him a bit – he still looked unsettled, but in his compromised state his need for comfort seemed to outweigh even his default need to serve her even at a detriment to himself. Delenn continued, hoping her words would help him feel better.
"But what made it even worse was the fact that I did not know if I would ever get to tell you how important your friendship is to me. Ever since the first day you came to me, you have just kept giving and giving of yourself and never asking anything in return. You are always there for me and you care with a depth unmatched. To have such a friend is an incredible blessing, and one that you deserve. I want to be that friend for you, Lennier."
Delenn was overjoyed to see Lennier's eyes shining with gratitude and warmth rather than a perceived unworthiness. He spoke, haltingly and with great effort, but his meaning was clear.
"I'm so glad you're here with me, Delenn. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"I told you I would not leave you," she murmured, managing a smile despite her roiling emotions. "I do not break promises, Lennier. If you will stay by my side, then I will also stay by yours."
Lennier looked as though he wanted to say something else, but whether he decided against it or simply lacked the strength, she could not tell. He settled for a weak squeeze of her hand, and although Delenn wished to speak with him for hours and hours, she knew she would need to be content with that for now. The last thing she wanted was to tax what little strength Lennier had.
"Oh! But we should let Doctor Franklin know you are awake!" Delenn exclaimed, suddenly remembering that this was probably important. In all of her relief and joy, she had neglected to think of anything else but having her Lennier back. "I will be right back!"
Lennier's look of affection mingled with mild amusement at her unbridled excitement. She ran out of the room, her stiffness resulting from sleeping in the chair long forgotten. She swept into Doctor Franklin's office with such alacrity that the poor, tired doctor startled.
"Delenn, what…?"
"He's awake! Lennier is awake!" she exclaimed as he leapt to his feet in surprise, mouth falling open in amazement.
"What? Already?"
"Oh, Doctor, you've worked a miracle!" Delenn threw her arms around him for the second time that morning. "You've brought my dearest friend back to me. I do not know how to thank you."
Franklin relaxed into her embrace – it was as though Delenn could feel the stress of the last week physically draining out of him.
"Your joy and his recovery are the only thanks I need, Delenn. But I should check on him now that he's awake."
"Yes, of course. Of course you must." Delenn released him immediately, but Franklin just smiled and motioned for her to lead the way. When they got to the ICU room, Delenn immediately returned to her chair and took Lennier's hand once more. Lennier, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them to look at her and managed a weak smile. He was tiring quite quickly, Delenn could tell, but she supposed that was to be expected.
"Hey, Lennier! Boy, is it good to see you awake," Franklin said as he walked around to the other side of the bed. With a grin, he added, "Let me tell you, you sure know how to give a doctor one of the biggest professional challenges of his life!"
"I am not sure if that warrants a response of 'I'm sorry' or 'You're welcome'." Lennier attempted a chuckle but failed miserably. He seemed ready to give out then and there after only a few minutes of being awake. Delenn ran her hand up and down his arm, hoping to convey a bit of strength to him.
"I think both are appropriate responses," replied Franklin with a grin, already in the process of his giving his patient a quick once-over. "How are you feeling?"
"Terribly weak, and very tired," murmured Lennier, clearly struggling to keep his eyes open. "And a bit cold."
"Well, you'll be glad to know you can have as many blankets as you want this time," Franklin replied with a smile, then addressed Delenn. "There should be some in the closet just outside."
Delenn got up and quickly located the closet. She selected a thick, warm-looking blanket and returned to the ICU room. She spread the blanket over Lennier and tucked it lovingly around him. For a moment, he looked as though he were going to protest that she would do such a thing for him. But she smiled reassuringly at him, and his gaze turned to one of gratefulness and adoration.
By that time, Franklin had finished his examination. "Okay. We're going to have to keep a close eye on you for awhile, but right now things are looking okay, all things considered. You can go back to sleep now, but you have to promise you'll let me know if something starts to feel like it's going wrong, okay?"
Lennier managed a weak nod and mumbled "Thank you, Doctor," before his eyelids fluttered closed. Delenn kissed his forehead, and the corners of his mouth pricked upward briefly.
"Sleep well, my dear," she murmured, but he was already blissfully in the arms of his subconscious. Delenn held her palm to his cheek for a moment and just watched him sleep, his face so much more peaceful than it had been when the fever dreams and delirium had wracked him. Then she shut her eyes and silently thanked whatever higher beings there might be in the universe for bringing Lennier back to her. It was not a Minbari prayer, steeped in ritual – it was a human prayer, a heartfelt offering from the depths of her soul.
She felt Franklin's hand on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes to look up at him.
"How is he, Doctor? Really?"
Franklin shook his head incredulously. "For a patient with severe sepsis and DIC, I'd say it's nothing short of a miracle. And I'm a scientist – I don't use that word lightly. Don't get me wrong," - he held up a hand to solidify his point – "he's not out of the woods yet. We've still got to keep a very close eye on his platelet count, and his kidneys have taken a beating. He's going to be in Medlab for awhile, and on bed rest in his quarters even longer. He's got a rough recovery ahead."
"And I shall do whatever I can to help him through it," said Delenn with conviction.
Franklin shot her a small smile. "I know. I also know that if I tell you to go back to your quarters and get some real sleep, you won't listen."
"Not just yet," murmured Delenn. "I need to stay with Lennier until he is at least a bit stronger. He needs every bit of comfort he can get right now."
Franklin let out something somewhere between a chuckle and a sigh.
"Well, at the very least drink your tea. It's probably getting cold."
He left the room as Delenn reached down and retrieved her forgotten cup from the floor. The tea was tepid now, but that was all right. She no longer needed the warmth to fortify her. She had her Lennier back, and he had given her all the strength she needed.