A follow-up to Whatever It Takes. Content includes mention of serious illness. –N
Another perfect brain scan. No tumors, no abscesses, nothing.
Then why was Shego so anxious?
Drakken kept sneaking glances at her as he drove. She kept drumming her nails on her knees, which were curled up against her chest. Several times, she bit down on her lip, hard. Finally he said, "Is something bothering you?"
"No. Why?"
"You're going to make your lip bleed."
She curled her hands into fists and pressed them against her legs. "I'm ok."
He pulled into the lot outside of Bueno Nacho – why did there seem to be one in every damn city? – and killed the engine. "Talk to me? Please?"
Another moment of silence. And then Shego said, "I just … I don't believe it's really gone."
"Is this … Does this have to do with you leaving the hall light on before bed?"
Shego's eyes darted to the side, then back. "I didn't think you noticed …"
He took her hand. "You're ok now," he said. "We just got proof."
Deep breath, Shego. Don't cry. "It could still come back," she whispered. "When I see the light on I know … At least I haven't lost my sight again …" She choked back a sob as a tear freed itself from her eye. Damn.
"I can't promise you it's never going to come back," Drakken said. "But we are getting you scanned very frequently. And I can promise that if you ever lost your sight again for any reason, I'd describe everything to you."
"You're horrible at describing things."
"I'd practice for you."
Finally, Shego cracked a smile. "Ok." She brushed her tears away. "Can we go home now?"
"Of course." He put the car back in drive, then immediately reclaimed Shego's hand in his own. She closed her eyes and hummed with contentment as he rubbed the back of her hand in slow, steady circles. Fuck, she was still so tired from all of this. It was going to be an early night, for sure.
But maybe when she did sleep tonight, with Drakken next to her of course, she might try it with all the lights out.
