The regular bleep of the monitors was almost soporific, only punctuated by the odd whirr and hiss of the oxygen line. Cass suddenly felt very tired; the combination of lack of sleep and the exertion of the past few hours having caught up with him. He shifted in his chair and stretched out his arms, rotating his shoulders. He brought his hands to rest on the bed before him and, tentatively, ran his fingers over Jayne's arm, bringing them to rest lightly in her palm. She did not stir.
Cass watched the sleeping Captain. She was smaller than he imagined. He realised how odd that seemed, but it was the truth. On the monitor, in orbit around Carpathia, heroically risking her life to save her crew, he had imagined some tall, battling, Amazonian creature, but here, lying in a hospital bed, she just looked small and human. And fragile. Cass got the distinct impression that fragile was not a description attributed to Jayne Williams very often. Certainly not when she was awake, anyway. It was all in the eyes. They lit up her face when she smiled, and danced with mischief when she made a joke, but all the time there was something behind them. Something determined. Cass saw it come to the fore one evening, when he had asked her about her life back on Earth. She had fixed him with a look that, even through the fuzzy picture on the monitor, unmistakeably told him to back off, before changing the subject. Since then, he had instinctively felt himself drawn to her. He understood. His fingers stroked her palm, absent-mindedly. He just wanted her to wake up.
"She's doing well?" Tate stood at the end of the bed, accompanied by Stella.
Cass's head snapped up. He had been so lost in thought he hadn't heard them arrive. He quickly pulled his hand away from Jayne's and stood.
"She's fairly unscathed, considering," Stella began. "Concussion, loss of blood, a couple of stitches, a first degree burn on her left arm, smoke inhalation. Pretty minor stuff for someone who just dropped out of the sky and hit an electric storm en route for good measure."
"When will she wake up?" Tate asked.
"Soon, I would imagine," Stella walked to one of the machines and checked a readout. "She'll have quite a headache."
"How are the others?" Cass enquired.
"Mostly very well," Stella looked over Jayne as she spoke. "Relieved, a little overawed, but in good health overall. The occupants of the crashed pod are being treated for a minor injuries and their physicians are working with us on one or two passengers with some mental health issues, but nothing we can't easily cope with."
"I told you," Tate smiled. "Today everyone got here alive. We were overdue some good news."
"It appears so, yes," Stella walked back to join Tate at the foot of the bed. "And in small thanks to the ACs, I hear."
"Yes," Cass raised an eyebrow. "Rudi pulled Jayne… Captain Williams from the pod just in time."
"First the whiteout and now this?" Tate ventured. "A small step forward, perhaps?"
"I dunno if I'd go that far," Cass grimaced. "Human decency, perhaps."
"Well, I'll take my small miracles where I can find them," Tate walked to the door. "Cass, you should get some rest, you look exhausted."
"In a while. I'd rather stay here until she wakes up…" Cass trailed off.
"Of course," Stella smiled. "But you know, Cass, patients who come around after being unconscious later report that they liked it when they woke up to someone holding their hand."
Tate and Stella stepped through the door into the corridor before they could see Cass blush a deep crimson. He settled himself back in his seat. After a few moments he slid his hand into Jayne's and gripped it tightly.
The first thing she knew was that it hurt. Her head throbbed like her brain was trying to hammer its way out of her skull. She groaned and opened her eyes, feeling a searing pain rip through her pupils as they adjusted to the bright light in the room. Where the hell am I? She tried to bring her hand to her head, but something tugged at her arm. She looked down; an IV line ran from a clear bag suspended high above her body into her forearm. There was some kind of dressing on her upper arm and whatever wound lurked underneath stung like crazy. She felt something across her face - an oxygen line? She could feel the cold air being blown up her nose. She breathed deeply, and realised her lungs felt like someone had been at them with a cheese grater. She looked down. She was wearing what looked like a hospital gown. What the hell happened to me?
Slowly, fragments of memory drifted back into place; the power failure on CT8, the mad dash to the shuttle, the manual release, an almighty bang and a jolt which knocked her off her feet before she had chance to engage her harness and then not much at all. She had a vague recollection of an intense heat, and someone grabbing her arms, pulling at her, but it was hazy at best. She smiled ruefully to herself; welcome to Carpathia, Jayne. Way to make one hell of an entrance….. is that someone snoring?
She turned to see the top of a head, covered in short dark brown hair, resting on her hand. The owner of the head was sat in a chair, his arms folded on the bed, one hand gripping hers tightly. He was sound asleep.
"Sleeping on the job again, Cromwell?" she whispered, amused. Her breath caught in her throat and she began coughing violently. Cass woke with a start and looked up, confused. Jayne sat forward, doubling over as the coughs wracked through her chest.
"It's alright, it's alright," Cass rubbed her back gently. "It's smoke inhalation, it'll pass. Don't try to speak."
Eventually Jayne regained her composure and sank back into the pillows. "Don't try to speak? You don't know me very well yet, do you?"
Cass smiled; a broad, easy grin that immediately made her relax. "You need to rest."
"The others?" She sat forward again as her memory cleared. "My crew, are they…"
"All fine," Cass interrupted. He gently guided her to lie back again. "A few cuts and scrapes, but everyone got here. Everyone survived. You all made it. They're fine."
She closed her eyes in relief. When she opened them again a tear fell. She swiped it away quickly, Cass noted. Jayne Williams was obviously not a woman who cried easily.
"I must see them." Jayne sat up and pulled the covers back. Almost immediately a dizzy spell took her and she fell forwards. Cass caught her and lay her back down on the bed, before resolutely tucking the covers around her.
"You're staying put," he pronounced. "Your crew will still be here tomorrow, and the day after, and even the day after that. You won't be if you carry on the way you're going. Now lie down and shut up, or I'll knock you out again," he added, smiling.
"Like you knocked yourself out just now?" She raised an eyebrow. "That's twice you've fallen asleep on me, Mr PAS Officer. Doesn't bode well for that date you promised."
"Hang on, it was just a beer earlier," Cass grinned. "Now it's a date?"
"Yeah, well I had to get a good look at you before I made my mind up." She coughed again, less violently this time. Cass poured her a glass of water. "Thank you."
"Well, I'm glad I measure up," he winked.
"I don't know about that," she murmured. "Yet. Let's just say you have potential."
The glint in her eye was back, and Cass decided he liked it. A lot.
Julius Berger peered through the viewing glass at the door, watching Cass and Jayne with a sense of growing irritation. Typical Tate, he thought, posting one of his most senior PAS Officers to babysit the new Captain, just to be sure she can't be accessed by anyone Tate might disapprove of. He had been hoping to speak to the new arrival before she had been given a full debrief; he wanted to get a feeling for which way she might fall once everything changed. A Captain leading a crew of one thousand people could be very useful, or very dangerous, depending on her political leanings. However, she would have to keep for the time being. It was not a discussion he cared to have in front of Tate's right hand man.
Julius walked on towards the main ward. He smiled and nodded at the medical staff as he passed them by. He wandered past the row of beds and shared a few pleasantries with the patients he found. None of them were in uniform, just passengers, wives, children and the like. No-one of any particular importance, but still, it couldn't hurt to appear like the concerned councillor.
"Doctor, how are the patients?" Julius smiled.
"These people will be released soon," the doctor consulted a data pad. "We have a few who will require an overnight stay. We'll be keeping the captain in for a day or two."
"I'd like to speak with the people, if that's okay," Julius' face creased into a look of concern. "Welcome them to their new home, allay any fears."
A nurse approached. "Excuse me doctor, Psych are asking for you."
"Psych?" Julian interrupted.
"One or two of our new arrivals have some psychological problems," the Doctor explained. "Normal in these circumstances. If you'll excuse me."
"Maybe I could counsel them, being a new arrival myself?" Julius offered.
"We'll get the psych evaluations done first," the Doctor began to walk away. "In the meantime, I'm sure these patients would appreciate your guidance."
Julius frowned at the doctor's retreating back. Crazies and nobodies. He wanted to speak to that Captain. He wanted her on side.
And what Julius wanted, he invariably got.