Chapter 5
Just wanted to let everybody know that there will be a minor change introduced in this chapter. I've been so used to calling all the characters in the movie by their last names (Vickers, Weyland, Fifield, etc.) that it didn't even occur to me to call Shaw anything else in this fic. But it was pointed out to me that a person probably wouldn't refer to themselves by their last name, and I have to admit that's a good point. So from now on, our heroine will be referred to as "Elizabeth" rather than "Shaw." I'll have to go back and edit the previous chapters for consistency's sake when I have some time.
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The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Elizabeth spent most of it either reading or napping, and trying not to go stir-crazy. The escape pod may have been a luxurious prison, and a necessary one, but it was still a prison. She hoped she and the Engineer would figure out a way to escape this planet, because she thought she might lose her sanity rather quickly if she had to stay cooped up in here for two years.
The Engineer had spent part of the day napping as well, comically cramming its massive body onto the sofa that was directly across from the one Elizabeth herself was lying on. When it wasn't sleeping, it was exploring the escape pod, pacing from room to room and fiddling with every switch, button and appliance it came across. It was almost endearing in a way, reminding her of her father on the rare times when they stayed at hotels during their travels. He had always gone from room to room familiarizing himself with everything in there…the thermostat, air conditioner, television, phone, lights, the fans in the bathroom. Perhaps when faced with unfamiliar surroundings, males simply had an instinctive need to seek out all the buttons they could find and press them.
The creature had done a little bit more than exploring at one point however, because she'd woken up from a nap to a series of crashes and thunks coming from one of the other rooms. Which room she didn't know, but she was too sleepy to bother with getting up and finding out. Whatever he was doing in there probably wasn't any cause for alarm, since he certainly would have warned her somehow if he were doing something dangerous. Still feeling tired, she'd put him and his noisy escapades from her mind and returned to sleep.
When she woke up again, the light told her it was late afternoon. The escape pod was strangely quiet, and when she raised her head to look around, she saw no sign of the Engineer. She wondered briefly where it had gone, but assumed it was simply in one of the other rooms. It would return soon enough.
But the minutes stretched out to a half-hour, then an hour, and finally, when orangish light bathing the landscape outside told her the sun was setting, she began to get worried. She wasn't sure if she was worried something had happened to the creature, or that it had left her alone, although she was almost ashamed to say that it was most likely the latter. Although she had been preoccupied with other matters the last day and a half, the desperation of her situation was finally beginning to fully sink in, and she realized that she was terrified of being left completely alone on this desolate moon.
Unable to stand it any more, she got up and wrapped her blanket loosely around herself as a makeshift robe. She went over to the doorway leading out into the hall and stood there, wondering what exactly she was hoping to accomplish by leaving the room. She couldn't exactly go outside and start wandering around the planet looking for the creature, now could she?
But she couldn't just keep sitting in here waiting forever, either. She was driving herself crazy. She decided that it couldn't hurt to at least get up and take a look around the escape pod. To check all the rooms, and, if it wasn't in any of them, maybe go over to the door that led outside and see…see if it had left some trace of itself there. Something that would show her that it had indeed gone outside. Missing oxygen cylinders or…something. She didn't really know what else it could have left. But she wanted to look anyway. It certainly wasn't going to be any less fruitful than sitting in the living area like a bump on a log.
She glanced over at the door that led to the infirmary uneasily. Her "children" were in there, and she really didn't want to see them again. Or smell them, for that matter. Their bodies had been lying there for nearly two days now, and they had almost certainly begun to rot. She wondered how long it would be before the smell began leaking into this room…and what she would do about it when it did.
Deciding to check the infirmary last, she headed over to the door that lead to the airlock. She pressed the button that operated the doorway and it slid open with a soft hiss. She took a few steps out into the hallway hesitantly, feeling almost nervous. The whole place felt empty and abandoned. And it was silent, the only sound the soft buzzing of one of the overhead lights. The metal floor was cold beneath her bare feet.
But the warm light of the sunset was spilling in from the small window in the door, making the hallway look almost cozy. Instinctively, she began moving toward it, thinking it might be nice to feel the sunlight on her face. And she could look outside and see if she could spot any trace of the Engineer while she was at it.
She had a sudden mental image of him trotting toward the escape pod in one of those strange, elephant-headed spacesuits she had seen in the holograms, waving at her and saying "Hi, Honey, I'm home!"
She laughed, feeling relieved that the action only made her abdomen hurt slightly now, and started toward the door.
She only got a few steps before she paused. Her feet had touched something…gritty.
She looked down and was surprised to see mud on the floor. Fresh mud, too, or at least, mud that had been tracked in recently. It was still slightly moist. That definitely meant that it wasn't something that she had tracked in when she'd come inside yesterday.
It had to have been left by the Engineer. It had gone outside. And, from the looks of things, had come back in. Recently.
She turned, looking back toward the way she had come, her forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. So where was it? It hadn't been in the living quarters, and she saw no reason why it would have gone into the infirmary, or any of the storage rooms. At least, no reason why it would stay in them for half the day.
Had it gone back outside again?
She looked back down at the dirty spot she was standing in. It was slightly oval shaped. Nearby, she saw another, similar spot.
Footprints.
She turned and saw, to her, relief, that there were several more of them, leading back down the hall toward the living area. She turned and followed them, still wondering how the creature could have gotten past her and inside it without her seeing it.
But the muddy footprints didn't lead to the door of the living quarters. Instead, they kept going past it and down a short hallway that led to a wide doorway. One of the storage rooms, certainly.
She looked at it with misgiving. What could the Engineer be doing in there? And why hadn't he come out yet?
Her mind went over a host of reasons as she walked slowly down the hallway. Maybe it had tried to climb up and get something from a top shelf and had fallen. Or one of the shelves had fallen over on it. Or it had eaten something that turned out to be poisonous to Engineers or that they were allergic to. Maybe it had succumbed to its injuries. That burn on its face was serious, but didn't look immediately life-threatening, but maybe it had been injured internally as well in the crash. It hadn't seemed ill before, but sometimes injuries crept up on a person. Maybe it had felt the end coming and had dragged itself off into a private spot to die.
She reached the door and hesitated once more, afraid of what she might find in there. If the Engineer had really been in there for hours, she doubted that the reason was trivial. What if he really was dead? Or even injured? How would she help him?
She knocked softly on the door and waited. One minute stretched into two, then five, then almost ten.
No sounds from within.
Panic seized her in its hot, suffocating grip, and she threw the door open, almost in terror. Inside, the room was surprisingly spacious, and filled with shelves and shelves of boxes and containers. Filled with two years worth of food, medical supplies and other essentials. But she didn't have to rush back into the depths of the room searching. No, what she was looking for was lying in the corner to her right, not ten feet from where she stood.
The Engineer lay curled in a fetal position, his huge legs drawn up against his body, both arms wrapped tightly around himself, his face buried in them as though he was hiding from something. She was relieved to see that he was moving, and therefore alive, but his movements consisted only of weak, almost rhythmic shivering. He didn't look up.
She was at his side in an instant, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in her abdomen that reminded her that her incision wasn't quite healed yet. She knelt down next to him, taking hold of his huge shoulder and shaking him, trying to get his attention so she could find out what was wrong with him.
"Engineer!" she said, feeling a touch of embarrassment mix in with her fear at the fact that she didn't know what to call him. Why had she never bothered to ask him his name? True, they didn't speak the same language, but that didn't mean they couldn't have communicated simple concepts like names to one another. It didn't take much effort or understanding to point to yourself and say a name.
Still, there was no help for it now. "Engineer" would just have to do.
"Engineer!" she said again, shaking him harder. "What's wrong?" The words were useless, the question was useless, but she didn't know what else to do.
He still didn't look up. Nor did he react to her touch, or her shaking him. It felt almost like she was shaking a giant piece of meat instead of a living creature. Other than the shivering, all the life seemed to have gone out of him. It almost seemed as though he didn't even realize she was there.
"C'mon," she said helplessly, shaking him again. He still didn't even acknowledge her presence.
"Engineer!" she shouted again, practically in his ear. He didn't even flinch. What had happened to him?
She glanced around the room, searching for some clue as to what had happened, and her eyes fell on a black, rubbery heap that was lying in the other corner. The texture of it reminded her of the suit the Engineer wore, only heavier. Beside it, she could see a solid, round form that was practically covered by the material. As she took a closer look at it, she was able to make out a single, gleaming black eye and what looked like the start of an elephant-like trunk. The sight would have been startling had she not recognized it from her study of the dead Engineer's head two days ago. It was a helmet. And the rest of the pile was probably the spacesuit that went with it. Since he certainly hadn't been wearing that when he'd entered the escape pod yesterday, he had to have gotten it when he'd gone outside earlier. Which meant he had gone to his ship. Something must have happened there.
That black goo. That had to be it. The ship was full of it, and it must have…have…spilled or something when the ship crashed. Perhaps all those neatly piled and stacked urns had come loose when the ship had crashed, spilling their contents everywhere. What if the Engineer had accidentally touched some? That would certainly account for why he seemed so…sick. Like…like Charlie had been….
Charlie had certainly touched some of that black goo, although how or where she didn't know. But it hadn't been much, because neither of them had even noticed when it had happened. Yet it was still enough to…to make him…
What if this creature was now doomed to the same fate? Would she have to watch him get sicker and sicker, screaming in pain as the veins on his body turned a tarry black color? Would the Engineer beg her to kill him the way Charlie had begged Vickers?
Tears blurred her vision as she remembered the flames…and the blackened form lying at Vickers's feet when they'd subsided. All that was left of the man she loved.
She couldn't go through that again. Especially not if it meant the loss of her only companion left on the planet.
But if she didn't, what would happen? Would the Engineer end up like Fifield? Would he attack her in a bout of dying madness?
Strangely, that still seemed less scary then killing him now and being alone on this inhospitable moon.
"Oh, Engineer," she said, and her voice sounded tiny and scared. "You…you have to be all right…please…" She placed her hand over one of his own. "Please," she whispered again, lifting his hand and placing it gently against her cheek. It took both of her own hands to lift it.
Still no response. His hand was so limp and heavy that it might as well have been fake.
"Engineer…" she said again, looking down at him in concern…and then she gasped.
He was crying.
His eyes were closed, but huge tears were steadily trickling out the corners of them, leaving long, wet trails on his cheeks. The rhythmic shuddering of his body she now saw was him trying to control his weeping.
Perhaps it was a profound discovery that the Engineers wept like humans, or perhaps it was to be expected, but right now, she didn't stop to ponder the implications of this discovery. Her reaction to seeing his tears was the same reaction she'd have to anyone's…the instinctive urge to comfort.
She reached out to place her hand on his face, but thought better of it when she realized she would be touching his burned skin. Not wanting to cause him further pain, she gently placed her hand on his neck instead. "Engineer…" she said softy, so softly that she was almost whispering. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer, of course, and she knew he probably wouldn't have answered even if he did understand what she was asking him. He didn't even seem aware of her presence, as if whatever had upset him had caused him to shut out the outside world.
She sat beside him for several minutes, feeling useless. Without knowing what was wrong with him, there was little she could do to help him. Although she now knew his behavior was caused by grief rather than illness, his tears didn't necessarily rule out something physically wrong with him. He could have realized his infection or the extent of his injuries and been weeping over the prospect of his approaching death. And if that was the case, she still would be able to do nothing to help him, other than put him out of his misery, if he wanted that…and if she could bring herself to do it.
However, if there truly wasn't anything physically wrong with him, she was still at a loss of what to do. He couldn't tell her what had upset him, and she wouldn't be able to say anything comforting even if she did know what had happened. Still, her mind tried to puzzle out what could have happened anyway. Maybe he had assessed the damage to his ship and realized that there was no way he could fix it. Maybe he was crying because he realized there was no way off this planet and he now knew he was going to die here.
They were going to die here.
She pushed that thought aside. The last thing either of them needed was for her to sink into despair too. She had to keep it together right now, if he could not. She owed him that much, at least, after last night.
She gently caressed his hand while she tried to think of what to do. It still felt like a piece of dead meat, all the life gone from it. It almost reminded her of the way she had felt when she'd awoken after Charlie had been killed. The feeling that moving, thinking, breathing, living…all of it was just so pointless after what had happened. What was the use of even opening her eyes, when she knew that the only thing that awaited her in the conscious world was pain?
Her eyes softened as she looked down at his face, twisted with grief and damp with tears. Perhaps he mourned his own comrades the way she mourned Charlie. Maybe he had watched the holograms while he'd been in the ship, or even found his crewmates' bodies. Perhaps he was even now going over their last moments in his mind, unable to do anything to help them, unable to do anything but watch as they met their grisly fates, fates likely as horrible as those that had befallen many of her own crewmates. Maybe the grief was just as fresh in his mind as her own grief was in hers, despite the length of time that separated the two disasters. After all, he'd been in hypersleep all this time, so even though two-thousand years had passed, for him it probably felt like-
She lost her train of thought as her eyes widened in horror. She looked down at his anguished face, finally understanding reason behind that anguish. The reason why even acknowledging the outside world was suddenly too difficult for him. Why both his mind and spirit seemed so shattered.
Two-thousand years.
"Oh…oh God…" she whispered, looking down at him horrified pity. He'd been in hypersleep for two-thousand years. He…he hadn't known that, had he? He'd gone into it after sealing the chamber, likely to wait for help. Help that had never arrived. He must have looked at the dates on the hypersleep chamber in his ship to determine just how long he'd been kept waiting. And now he knew.
"Engineer…" she whispered, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what to do. Even if she could communicate with him, anything she could say to him would be horribly inadequate. He'd lost everything. His entire world was gone. What could she possibly say that would comfort him after such a discovery?
Perhaps he'd had a family back home that he'd longed to return to. Perhaps a mate, or even children. They were dust now. Although she didn't know for certain low long Engineers lived, she doubted they lived for several millennia. Everyone he had ever known and loved was gone. And their descendants were likely so far removed that they would essentially be strangers.
Even worse, it wasn't just loved ones he'd lost. He'd lost everything. Every single thing he remembered about his life had probably changed immensely. She tried to think of what it would be like if someone from two thousand years ago on earth had suddenly woken up in the present day. Everything would be different. Not just the technology people used, but the food they ate, the language they spoke, the gods they worshipped, the nation they swore allegiance to….everything that made a person who they were would have been altered to the point of being unrecognizable. The whole world would seem like an alien planet. How alone would someone feel if they woke up to that?
And what made things even worse for him, is that he would never know why.
Why had no one come? Had something terrible happened back on his planet? Were his people gone? Or had he simply been…forgotten about? Or even deliberately left on this moon to rot, the existence of the project he'd been working on covered up for some reason? Who could he ask? Who could tell him what had happened, why his entire world had been taken away from him? They were all dust too.
He'd woken up to find himself completely alone in the universe. There was nothing for him here…and there was nothing for him back home either.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to him, tears filling her eyes. As miserable as she was, as bleak as her situation looked, he had it worse. She never thought she would be able to feel pity for one of these godlike Engineers, but she did. She pitied him.
But pitying him wasn't going to help him. She didn't know what would, but she had to do something. She couldn't just sit there and stare at him.
She gently reached down and caressed the back of his neck, murmuring softly to him as she did so, telling him it was going to be all right, telling him she was here and wouldn't leave him. He couldn't understand her, of course, but it didn't really matter. The important thing was her tone. He would understand that. If he could even hear her. He still hadn't moved or acknowledged her presence since she'd entered the room.
She wondered vaguely why he had even returned to the escape pod at all if the knowledge of his time in hypersleep had broken him so badly. Why hadn't he simply slipped into this catatonic state at the foot of his hypersleep chamber? Why wasn't he lying there right now?
Unless he'd come back for her. Maybe he'd come back here because he knew he couldn't leave her all alone. Maybe he'd gotten himself back to the escape pod somehow, but didn't feel like he was in any kind of a state to face her. Perhaps he'd hidden in here to grieve his grief out…and simply lost track of time. Or fallen so deeply into despair that he'd forgotten about her…and that she still needed him.
She shook her head. It didn't matter. Right now, he needed her more.
She reached down and gently wiped his tears away with her thumb, an action that proved to be futile when more just replaced them. His face was just soaked with them, and she saw that there was a huge damp spot underneath his head. He must have been crying for a long time. Poor thing would get dehydrated if he kept at it for much longer.
She supposed she could get up and get him some water. He would probably be thirsty when he calmed down, and sipping on cool water might comfort him. It would be small comfort, but it would be something. She couldn't bring his loved ones or home back, but she could attend to his physical needs, his hunger, his thirst, his pain…
She looked down at his burnt face, suddenly wondering if he would allow her to finally tend to his injuries. If he was truly unresponsive to outside stimuli, then maybe he wouldn't care if she cleaned and bandaged it, or injected him with antibiotics. Perhaps she should try it. It would likely be uncomfortable for him, if he noticed it at all, but it was the only way he would begin to feel better. Physically, anyway. The only possible comfort she could provide him right now.
"I'm going to go get a few things," she told him gently. "But I'll be right back." She got reluctantly to her feet, not wanting to leave him alone, but she reminded herself that he'd been alone in this room for several hours now and nothing had happened to him yet. He would be all right for a few more minutes.
"I'm coming back," she said to him again, as she started for the door. Once outside, she walked as quickly as she could back to the living area, the pain in her stomach the only thing that kept her from breaking into an all-out run. Once there, she began picking through all the medical supplies, looking for the appropriate items to treat his burns. And the wound on his leg, while she was at it. Bandages, syringes, painkillers, antibiotics, antiseptic, needle and thread, salve. She tossed them onto her blanket, which she'd spread out on the couch. Next, she walked into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth. Then, she went back out into the living area and grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator. She tossed everything onto the blanket with the medical supplies, and then, after a moment's thought, grabbed the box of chocolate bars out from under the table and added it as well. Anything she could think of that might make him feel better.
Once she had everything, she gathered it up in the blanket and used it as a makeshift sack to carry everything. She hurried back down the hall toward the supply room.
He was right where she'd left him, still weeping and unresponsive. She knelt down beside him once again, and placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.
"I'm going to take care of the burn on your face," she told him, keeping her voice soft and gentle. "It might hurt a little, but it's the only way you'll feel better. I promise I'll be as gentle as I can, all right?" As usual, she knew the whole speech fell on uncomprehending ears, but again, she hoped at least some of her comforting tone would get through to him. There was nothing to be afraid of. She wouldn't hurt him.
Much, anyway. She couldn't help feeling a bit of misgiving as she readied the syringe filled with the painkiller solution. As she placed it over the wound, she wondered what his reaction would be. Just because he was unresponsive now didn't mean he would stay that way if she did something to cause him pain, and since he didn't appear to be in his right mind at the moment, he might be more likely to lash out at her to get her to stop. The idea made her shudder. She'd seen what he was capable of. He could knock her clear across the room with a single strike.
Still, what else could she do? It wasn't like she could restrain him somehow. Hoping for the best, she gathered her courage, stuck the needle into his flesh and depressed the plunger.
His entire body went rigid and his huge dark eyes flew open in shock. He gasped loudly, looking up at her in surprise as she pulled the needle free. He saw the syringe in her hand, and she suddenly saw a tiny touch of fear enter into his eyes as well.
"All done," she soothed him, setting the syringe down on the blanket beside her. "It's all done. That wasn't so bad, now was it? And you'll feel better once the painkillers take effect." She kept her tone soft and comforting, the same tone she would have used with her children, if she'd been able to bear any.
He kept looking up at her with wide, fearful, tear-filled eyes. Pity filled her so strongly that tears filled her own eyes, but she blinked them back. She needed to remain calm for his sake. She picked up the washcloth and moistened it with water from one of the bottles she'd brought with her. As gently as possible, she dabbed at the wound on his face, trying to clean it.
He winced sharply, cringing away from her, but didn't resist her. She didn't know if it was because he knew the doctoring, painful as it was, needed to be done, or if he was simply so broken that all the fight had gone out of him.
Once she'd cleaned his injury as best she could, she took out the disinfectant, poured some on the washcloth, and began dabbing it onto the wound. It must have stung, because he cringed away even more sharply and let out a small, breathy sound that could only have been a whimper, although it was far deeper than any whimper she'd ever heard a human make.
"Shhhhhhhh…" she soothed him, rubbing the back of his neck with her other hand while she continued to dab at his wound. "It's all right. It's all right, my beautiful Engineer…"
She almost snapped her mouth shut in surprise at what she'd just said, and silently thanked God that the creature couldn't understand her. Still, she could feel herself blushing, and was relieved that he wasn't looking up at her and therefore didn't notice. It had felt strange saying it out loud, as if she was finally admitting to herself something that she'd been trying to deny. She found him beautiful, and it was no longer the distant, almost sterile beauty she'd originally seen in him and the rest of his people. No, his grief and vulnerability had softened his strange, stony features and made him appear more human, more alive, more…real. Even his eyes looked different. This close, and in the bright overhead lighting of the storage room, she could see that they were not the shiny back color they had originally appeared to be, but were instead a very deep, glassy blue, like the eyes of a newborn baby. If she looked closely, she could even make out his iris and pupil, faintly outlined amid the expanse of dark blue. The pupils were a strange shape, almost looking like little crosses rather than circles. Still alien, but so much more human than they had originally appeared to be.
He was beautiful. And seeing something so exquisite and lovely so vulnerable and in such pain made her heart ache. Despite how much more relatable it made him, she still hated seeing him humbled this way.
"You'll feel better soon," she murmured to him as she continued to dab at the wound. She honestly doubted that, but she didn't know what else to say. Hopefully, he would feel better physically, at least.
Once she was finished disinfecting the injury, she readied another syringe with the regenerative solution. Like all the other medicines, she didn't know if it would work on Engineers, but figured it was worth a try. The similarity between human and Engineer DNA made it a possibility, anyway.
He whimpered again, and she looked down at him to see that he was now looking at her…and the syringe she held in her hand.
"I know, I know," she murmured, giving him a pat on his broad shoulder. "It'll be over in a second, all right?" Still, her stomach did flip flops as she brought the syringe down toward the wound. He wasn't going to be taken by surprise this time. If he didn't want a shot, there was nothing stopping him from knocking her block off to prevent it.
But he didn't try to fight back, or even try to make any sort of resistance at all. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and laid his head back down almost pressing his face into the floor…a gesture of such submission that she was almost horrified. She suddenly got the idea that he would let her do anything she wanted to him. That he would have submitted even if she'd gotten to her feet and kicked him in the face.
Having such power over something so large and strong was almost terrifying to her. He was supposed to be the strong one. She'd decided that last night. How could the roles have been reversed so suddenly? Just when she'd found something to rely on, something to help her through this, it was taken from her. She felt like she was on her own again, her caretaker reduced to an invalid. She couldn't do this…she wasn't strong enough.
Instinctively, she reached toward her neck to clutch her father's cross, although, like everything else, that had been taken from her too. But she didn't need to feel it there to remember it…or to remember her father and her father's words.
She went searching among her memories, memories that now felt tainted by David's voyeurism, but in the end, were still hers (if not hers alone anymore), searching for some form of comfort, some form of advice from the man who had always known just what to say, just how to make it better. But as she searched, as she tried to remember, the only thing that kept popping up in her mind was the phrase she'd remembered last night.
It will be all right, Lizzie…
She smiled almost bitterly, blinking back the tears that had been gathering in her eyes. You can't tell me anything else, Daddy? she thought ruefully. Nothing about HOW it's going to turn out all right, or what I can do to make that happen? It figured. Even with her father's assurance, she was still on her own.
But it was better than no assurance at all. She could give up, or she could believe him when he told her everything would turn out all right. And, as long as that was the case, did it really matter how? Whether someone else made it all right or she did so herself, the outcome was the important thing.
It will be all right, Lizzie…
She nodded and looked back down at the cowering Engineer. She could do this. She could take care of him, just as he'd taken care of her yesterday. She was strong enough. He was safe with her, and she would make him well again. She would make sure of it.
"It will be all right, Engineer," she whispered to him, and slid the needle into the wound.
And in the end, it was surprisingly anticlimactic. A sharp inhalation from him, a quick movement of her thumb as she injected the solution, and then it was over. She almost smiled in relief…and at her own foolish fears.
"All done," she murmured to him, and began spreading the light green salve over the wound. The soft scent of aloe filled her nostrils, and she saw a touch of relief fill his eyes as the cooling salve must have soothed the pain.
By the time she had finished, he was no longer cowering. Instead his eyes were open, and fixed on her, although they still looked empty and miserable. Still, the fact that he was taking any kind of interest in his surroundings at all was a good sign. And despite his newfound alertness, he still allowed her to tend to the wound on his leg without a fuss. He was still submitting to her, but it now seemed to be out of trust rather than fear or despair. She finished off her doctoring by giving him a final injection of antibiotics, an injection he accepted without complaint, then turned back to the pile of supplies she'd brought with her, meaning to put the first aid supplies away and get out one of the water bottles.
Before she could do so, however, she felt movement beside her, and she froze in surprise.
He was getting up.
She turned toward him just in time to see he had had gotten up on his good knee and was reaching for her. She gasped in surprise as he scooped her into his arms and sat back, leaning against the wall as he settled her into his lap. His arms tightened around her as soon as she was situated, and there was almost desperation in the gesture, as if he was afraid he'd lose hold of her if he relaxed his grip. For a moment his embrace was almost too tight, and she squeaked in fear, realizing that he could probably crush her to death if he wasn't careful with his own strength, but thankfully, he realized his mistake and loosened his grip, although it was still tight enough that she didn't think she could get away if she tried.
She didn't though. He needed her too much. He was comforting himself by stroking her hair, her neck, her back…reaching down to touch her hands, lifting them , spreading the fingers apart as if marveling at how delicate and perfect they were. He held her close as if she were a cherished little being who he couldn't bear to be parted with. And perhaps she was. After all, without her, he would have been completely alone. Perhaps he was as grateful for her presence as she was for his. Perhaps he realized that he needed her as much as she needed him. Who else was there to care for him, or to comfort him?
"I'm here," she whispered to him. "I'm here and I won't leave you. I promise."
At the sound of her words, he pulled her even closer and leaned down to bury his face in her hair. She felt him sniffle against her, and was suddenly reminded of a child who picks up and holds close the family dog or cat, come to comfort him after a bout of inconsolable grief. He completed the effect by beginning to rock her slightly in his arms, a gesture that was probably more to comfort himself than for her benefit.
It didn't matter though. He needed her and she was there. And she would stay there, in his arms, for as long as he wanted.
Knowing that would probably be for the rest of the night, she closed her eyes and nestled close against his chest as he clung to her. She felt like a mortal nestled in the arms of a god, she felt like a child nestled in the arms of a parent she had finally reconciled with after years of estrangement, she felt like a woman nestled in the arms of a companion…she didn't know which of these was the truth of their relationship, or if they were all the truth, or if none of them were, but she was content regardless. He would take care of her. And now she knew that she would take care of him too. As long as they had each other, everything would turn out all right.
She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes as around them, night settled heavily over the empty landscape.