Root must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew she was being gently shaken, a soft voice calling her name.

"Hmm?" She said, raising her head. She looked up to see Shaw gazing down at her.

"Not out of the woods yet, every fifteen minutes for the next few hours."

"Right. Possible concussion." Root let her head rest back on Root's shoulder. She sighed.

"Hmm?" Shaw asked, her eyes already closed again.

"My shirt is all... crusty. If I have to stay awake, can I shower?"

"You're a fall risk, Root." Shaw said, straightforward as always. "My place doesn't have a tub." Root remembered falling into Shaw's arms in the doorway. Surely she felt better than that now.

"New shirt?" Root asked. Shaw had cleaned the blood off, but the shirt was bothering her, and her hair had dried crispy. Shaw sighed, moved as though she was going to sit up. "Nevermind," Root said suddenly.

"Nauseas?" Shaw asked, concerned.

"Yeah. Opiates?"

"It was the best I had in the kit. Sorry."

"No, they're good," Root said, waiting for the flaming carousel in her head to stop. She wasn't thinking about her shirt any more, at least. Exhausted, she closed her eyes.

Root heard a beep, then her name. She nodded her head against Shaw's chest, let her fingers loosen their grasp on Shaw's forearm. She opened her eyes a little, looked at the tattoo. Traced it with her fingertips, interested in the way it made Shaw's breath hitch.

Another beep, another quiet "Hey," in the dim light of the bedroom.

"Hey yourself," Root said, wrapping her fingers around a muscular bicep. Root felt Shaw's huff, deep in her chest, and smiled against Shaw's cheek.

Beep.

"Root?"

"Mmm," Root replied, sliding her arm around Shaw's waist and burying her face into Shaw's neck.

Beep

Root felt a series of taps against her ribcage: ".-. - - -"

"... ... .- .-", Root tapped back, one fingertip for the dots, holding down longer for the dashes. Shaw's hand went back to where it had been on Root's back, between her shoulder blades.

Beep

".-. - - -"

"... . -.-"

Beep

".-. - - -", Root felt on her shoulder blade. She tightened her grip on Shaw, moved to get more comfortable.

"-.- . .- ..."

Beep

".. ·-· - - -.-", Root tapped out.

"Good," Shaw said. "I'm calling in sick tomorrow."

Root nestled her head against Shaw again, feeling Shaw's hand find its way up to her hairline, rubbing the sides of her spine where it joined her skull.

Beep.

There was something resting on Root's back, not heavy, just definitely not part of Shaw's body. Root raised her head, turned it a little, squinting. There was an ereader propped on her, like she was a table.

"Shaw?" Root asked groggily.

"Mmm."

"What are you doing?"

"Reading."

"Oh." Root dropped her head again. "Out loud?" Root asked hopefully.

"It's a medical text book, Root, not a bedtime story."

"Oh." Root sounded disappointed, and Shaw sighed, pushed a button. A robotic voice started reading out loud, something about ligament repair. "Oh," Root said, even quieter. She'd been asking for the sound of Shaw's voice.

"I'll let you go to sleep if you can tell me who the president is, your real name, and how you were injured," Shaw said, pausing the voice. "Unless you really want to listen to the updates since I last checked in on my half-assed degree."

"Barack Obama, Samantha Groves, and I was... I was... I was trying to retrieve something that had been taken from me."

"Who from?" Shaw asked, suddenly interested, and Root didn't answer. "Good enough, I guess. Good night, Root. You want the lights out?"

"Do you have to get up to turn them off?" Root asked.

"Yeah," Shaw said, cradling Root's head to move it onto the pillow.

"Then no, this is fine." Shaw picked up her ereader again. "But I wouldn't mind if you kept listening to the book."

Shaw turned the voice back on, and Root drifted off, listening to words she was proud that Shaw understood.

Beep

Root felt Shaw turn to grab the device that had been beeping, presumably to turn it off. Root lay still, playing possum, as the voice droned on. The technology was lagging so far behind; this voice had a lot of funding behind it and presumably a voice actor as well, yet it was jarring to listen to. Root felt Shaw grasp the ereader again.

"- ... .- -. -.- -.- - ..-"

Shaw roused, translated sleepily. She put the ereader down on the bed next to her, let her hands rest on Root's back again.

"-.- - ..- ·-· .-. . .- . .-.. -.-. - - .", Shaw tapped back, finally, and she felt Root relax into her.

Notes:

I mean, it's a pretty boring conversation. Your call on translating it; google has some converters.