Author's Note: Written for the Ranger Romance Theme Challenge at Ars Amatoria. This piece was written and released without my usual scrupulous second and third rounds of fine-tuning and without a second opinion. I'm turning it over to the masses because I'll nitpick needlessly if I keep it to myself, and I have other projects that need finishing. This was supposed to be a brief drabble anyway. Heh…who was I fooling :-)
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Dependence
He sat on the patient bed, legs crossed at the ankles, hands in his lap. Somehow he'd come to be in flawless full uniform again, but he wasn't doing anything. His back was against the headboard and he sat absolutely still, staring ahead at something she was sure he couldn't see.
Her approaching footsteps broke the stillness, making his gaze dart in her direction. But his eyes were cast downward, unfocused, useless, and, she thought, a little scared. He looked so different now that that he wasn't able to glare at anyone. It seemed like the one whose expression hardly ever changed ended up being the one easiest to read.
"You're still here?" Syd tsked as she walked in and perched on the tall stool that stood beside the bed. "You've been here all day. When was the last time you've eaten anything?"
Sky frowned at her scolding, but didn't reply.
"I know your voice works just fine," she went on, trying to provoke him into some kind of reaction, preferably some type of motion. "You've got to eat something. What do you want? I'll get it. I'm not leaving until you do."
He wasn't taking her bait, and that's when she grew really concerned.
"Sky," she said, this time very gently. "You can't just sit here and wait for your vision to come back."
"Yes I can," he said stubbornly, and if the situation hadn't been so serious, she would have smiled at his naïveté.
"No you can't," she said firmly. "I'm going to get food into you, and then you're going to go back to your room."
She didn't wait for a reply this time. Out she flounced, out of the medical wing and to the rec room with its handy food replicator. After a minute of deliberation, she settled on some granola with yogurt and a fruit salad. Both would be easy enough for Sky to eat, healthy enough so he wouldn't fuss, and hearty enough that he wouldn't starve to death before she could get him to try a more substantial meal. She added to this a glass of cranberry juice and returned to the medical wing.
"You." She carefully set the tray of food on his lap. "You eat or I force feed you. It's that simple."
He moved his hands to steady the tray, and asked with the reluctant curiosity of someone who didn't want to give in to her bullying, but was hungry enough to respond to the presence of food, "What is it?"
"Granola and yogurt, and a fruit salad," she answered. In her hand was the glass of juice, taken from the tray so it wouldn't spill. "I brought you some cranberry juice too."
"It's not morning, is it?"
She hadn't realized that the selection she'd brought was somewhat breakfast-y, but it worked out because technically this was Sky's first meal of the day.
"It's late afternoon, Sky. I told you, you've been here all day. Couldn't you tell?"
"No, I couldn't!" he burst out, startling her. His voice was a mix of irritation and something else a little more frantic. "I can't tell if it's been half a day or three! I can't tell what time it is or who keeps wandering in here, talking down to me like I'm some child or a helpless, pathetic creature—"
His hands were gripping the tray so tightly, his knuckles went white. This spasm of emotion worried her ten-fold times more than the fact that he was blind. Kat had been pretty sure that his loss of vision wasn't permanent, but she didn't know how long it would take for his vision to come back. Judging from the felinoid's expression when she had told them, she wasn't expecting it to be anytime soon. Sky would have to learn to function without his eyesight, a reality Syd knew he didn't want to face. There would be no Rangering, no training simulations, no patrolling in the city. There would be nothing of the things he knew how to do best, nothing of the things he lived for.
She picked up a square of honeydew and put it against his lips. Coddling wouldn't quiet him, so she instead tried to get him to do something useful, like eat. His hand came up and took the cube from her fingers, holding it away for a moment before eating it. She watched as his hand descended back to the tray, groping around the circumference of the fruit bowl curiously before reaching in and withdrawing a grape. He ate very slowly, hesitating before he put each piece of fruit in his mouth. Maybe he was trying to guess what each one was first, either from its feel or from its smell.
The bowl of granola and yogurt, which would require the use of a spoon, sat untouched. When the last of the fruit was gone, she gently took his hand and pressed the glass of juice into it. This time he visibly sniffed the contents as he put the glass to his lips, then finished it all in one swill. She smiled.
"Feeling better?" she asked lightly.
He set the empty glass down on the tray. "Kind of."
"You still have your granola."
He raised an eyebrow at that, but it looked so strange this time when his gaze was so blank. "No cardboard?"
That was what she usually called granola when she saw him eating it.
"I think there's some in there," she returned genially.
His expression turned a little suspicious as he fumbled for the bowl and spoon. She rolled her eyes; the thought of tricking him at this point was the furthest from her mind.
"There's sugar in here," he complained after he swallowed his first bite. That made her peer closer at the layers in the clear plastic bowl.
"No, there isn't."
"I can taste it," he insisted.
"I don't see any in there."
"It's brown sugar. It blends in."
The strange irony of their argument hit them both at the same time, and they lapsed into a weird silence. He continued to eat without a word, and when he was finished, he seemed significantly calmer.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
"Any time."
His unfocused stare continued to unnerve her. There was usually such a sharp look in his eyes, and though there was still a strong awareness in them now, it was awareness of new sensations, of senses that had always been secondary when he'd been able to see.
"Come on," she took the tray from him and set it aside, then tugged at his hands. "You'll be more comfortable in your room. And I bet Bridge misses having someone to talk at."
Sky let out a long-suffering sigh, but obediently swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up without much difficulty. It was when he was on his feet that he failed to move any further, seemingly frozen in place with a deep frown marring his features. He closed his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Syd asked immediately, moving in closer. "Are you still dizzy? Do you want to sit back down?"
"It's not that," he opened his eyes briefly, frustration evident in their pale green depths. "It didn't matter so much when I was sitting there, but now when I have to move, I want to wait until I can see again, as if my eyes will adjust and the darkness will go away. But I know it won't. I can't see anything, Syd, not even light and dark. Everything's just black."
She swallowed as her heart went out to him, at the same time feeling disconcerted to see the Blue Ranger almost frightened. There weren't many weak spots in the walls he locked his emotions behind, but the few that existed were especially thin. Being this helpless had to be driving him out of his mind.
"It'll be okay," she soothed, reaching for the fist he had clenched at his side and clasping it comfortingly between her hands. "You'll be okay." She took his arm. "But for now, you have to let us help you."
"I can't even walk without someone's help," he said miserably. "I hate needing to rely on people."
"Don't I know," she teased. "I bet you could learn to get around fine on your own so long as the Base doesn't transform. You've already got the layout of the Academy memorized."
She pulled on his arm, trying to coax him to take a step forward. He obliged, and after a few supremely cautious steps, his stride became a little more natural. As they rounded their first corner in the corridor, however, his free hand reached out for her, a seemingly unconscious effort, and she took hold of it without a word, relishing the feel of his fingers tucked trustingly inside hers.
Her eyes were on his face for most of the trek to his room. Occasionally they would pass a cadet who looked curiously at the Blue Ranger, at his halting steps and closed eyes, and the way he grasped the shorter Pink Ranger's arm as he walked. A warning glare from Syd kept them quiet.
When the pair reached Sky's room, he let go of her hand, walking forward more confidently, almost pulling away from her. She imagined he knew his tiny living space quite intimately, and would be able to move around with relative ease even without his vision. He found his bed without her help, and she knew then she was right in her guess that he'd be more comfortable here.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, head turned in her general direction.
"Now what?" he asked after a silent pause.
To be honest, she hadn't thought that far ahead.
"I don't know," she admitted. "I promised Z I'd work out with her for an hour tonight, but Jack and Bridge should be done with their shifts by then. They could keep you company while I'm gone. That is, if you want."
She wracked her mind for ideas of activities he could keep busy with, preferably ones that made him feel useful, but was dismayed to find she could think of none.
Sky started to nod absently at her suggestion, but his expression suddenly turned very troubled.
"Syd, has Cruger said anything about what will happen to the team while I'm…out of commission?"
Can I ever be a Ranger again? The subtext in his question was clear as day.
"He said he's willing to wait a little while to see if your condition improves. We should be okay if Shadow Ranger pitches in."
He nodded again, and said quite plaintively, "I hate this."
"So do we," she said sympathetically. Then she added a little quieter, "Having you out there made me feel safe."
Somehow it was easier to admit that to him when she knew he couldn't see her, and especially when he wasn't looking at her. She felt a little guilty for it, as if she were taking advantage of his predicament. But it was also easier to go and sit down beside him, to put her arm around him and give him a heartfelt squeeze. Her head told her that her coddling would just make him feel worse, but her heart said it was the right thing to do.
"Let me return the favor," she said softly.
He didn't answer her verbally, but she felt his arm come around her and squeeze her back. They sat in companionable silence for a long while, having no need for words. Evening came and darkened the room around them, but only Syd noticed and she didn't care.
Eventually, the hour that she'd promised to spend with Z arrived, and by then, the only illumination in the room was from city lights filtering in through the curtains. Only with the utmost reluctance did Syd break the fragile stillness.
"I have to go," she said awkwardly. "I'm supposed to meet with Z now."
Immediately, Sky's arm fell away from around her, and she slowly rose to her feet, feeling graceless and a little sorry that she had said anything.
"Do you want me to find Jack or Bridge? I'm sure they'd be pretty entertaining to have around."
"That's okay," he declined, that eerie blank stare pointed towards the floor.
"Are you sure?" She edged backwards incrementally towards the door though she was unwilling to leave him. Now that he knew she had plans, he might feel like she was babying him if she insisted on staying.
"I'll be fine." He lay down and stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes.
The doors slid open when her foot hit the threshold, and the light that spilled in from the rec room hurt her eyes, which were accustomed to the dark. She raised a hand to shield them protectively, and immediately felt a pang of sorrow as the thought occurred to her that Sky wouldn't be reacting at all behind her. The whole world was a room of darkness to him.
"I'll see you later, okay?" she was trying to be cheerful, but she realized too late how tactless her choice of farewell words was. She winced in spite of herself and quickly turned away.
"Syd?"
She paused mid-step, pretty much ready to say yes to anything he might have asked for.
"Can you stay?"
He sounded so lost, so tremulous, as if he were afraid to ask her, or perhaps embarrassed that he did. It broke her heart, and for the first time in her life, she would have done anything to give Sky his old spark of over-confidence back. Her blue eyes were misty as she stepped away from the doors, darkness enveloping her once more when they slid shut.
"Of course," she answered him, more so he'd know she was still there. Even as she spoke, she was moving towards the bed, climbing on to sit beside him.
She wasn't sure how it happened exactly, but a series of shifts in the dark resulted in them drawing closer and closer together until she was sitting in his lap, her back against his chest, his arms around her waist with their fingers intertwined. She could feel his rapid heartbeat against her shoulder blade, the only indication that their close proximity might have meant more to him than he let on. She herself felt pretty relaxed, safe, warm, and maybe a little giddy.
His fingers kept trailing idly over her hands as he held them, exploring her palms, the skin on the backsides, and a bit of her wrists with his fingertips. He never went past the edges of her sleeves. At first it was a little creepy, until she realized why he was doing it. Robbed of the security of being able to see, he was discovering the comfort of tactile affirmation, of physical touch. That was the reason he'd asked her to stay with him. For now, it was all he had.
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Author's Note II: One-shot. I don't know what the heck happened out there. ;-)
