Watching Her Sleep 2
The solitary figure stood at the bedside, very silent and absolutely still.
The doctor came to stand at that stiff shoulder, in unconscious imitation of the other's formality.
The watcher took no notice.
McCoy spoke, his voice almost gentle: "It's been a long day. You should get some sleep."
Eyes flicked to him, just for an instant; then back to the bed. There was no further response.
After a few seconds, Leonard deliberately reached out, and carefully placed one hand on the rigid back.
Before he could reconsider the words, he said, "The next shift will be arriving soon, Commander. I'll stay."
Dark eyes slid over to meet his.
He hoped he wasn't saying too much. "She won't wake alone. I promise."
Those eyes shifted again to rest on the sleeper.
A moment passed. Leonard could feel the tiniest lessening of tightness under his palm. He dropped his hand.
His companion nodded, twice: Motion barely visible, but expressing, none the less, acknowledgement – and gratitude.
As the upright figure turned and moved away, Leonard said softly, "Don't worry."
But the other had gone.