He had my dog tags. The whole time I was lying in that hospital bed, he had them. Not only did he keep the dog tags, he wore them. He could have simply given them to my mother or even put them in the drawer beside my bed. Instead he chose to wear them around his neck, everyday for four months.
That simple action made my head spin. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the tears on my hand. I heard my mother talking to someone outside my door, so I quickly moved to brush away the few tears that I shed and put the dog tags around my neck. Judging by the look she gave me, I was sure she waited until James left before she came back. She was accompanied by yet another familiar face, Dr. Karin Chakwas.
"Dr. Chakwas! I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. What are you doing here?"
"I convinced your previous doctor to let me take over your primary care. I am more familiar with your past medical history and Cerberus upgrades than any of the doctors here." Karin said as she took a seat in the empty chair on the left side of my bed. She was right, as usual. One thing she forgot to mention is she's just about the only doctor I'll actually listen to.
"Well Doc, you were with me before this mess even started so it only makes sense to have you here with me at the end." It really was good to see her again. After a short examination, Dr. Chakwas informed me that the extra hardware Cerberus put into me was doing its job. A good majority of the injuries I had were three-quarters of the way, if not completely healed. I would still require some therapy to get myself back into working order. Once I got the basics of walking and eating solid foods down, I could then get myself back into shape and (hopefully) back to work.
Once she left, it was just me and my mother. She brought my lunch in with her which was I very grateful for. Since the doctors didn't want me eating anything that required too much chewing, all I got was some mashed potatoes, bananas, and a popsicle for desert. Delicious, I know.
While I ate, my mother grabbed the remote off my bedside table and turned on the tv that hung on the wall opposite my bed. The sun was beginning to set and it caused a glare that was giving me a slight headache. My mom saw me squinting, so she went over to the large picture window to my right to close the blinds. She sat down on the couch in front of the window and turned up the volume on the tv.
Somehow Alliance News Network caught wind that I was awake. This was particularly embarrassing for them since they were the ones attempting to spread the rumor that I was permanently brain damaged and never going to wake up. It seems like ever since the end of the war, ANN did nothing but go downhill. I didn't think it was even possible for them to get any worse.
After about ten more minutes of listening to the rumors and innuendo that they considered "news," my mother turned down the volume and shifted to face me.
"So, how did it go?" she asked me. There was no need to clarify as I knew exactly what she was referring to. The problem was, I hadn't had much time to digest exactly what happened.
"I don't know. Good I guess." was the only answer I could come up with.
"I see you got your dog tags back." she said while gesturing to the tags that now hung around my neck. I looked down at them and began to play with the chain. The silver of the chain shone brightly against my dark brown skin.
"Yeah. James gave them back to me. Why did he have them though? Where did he get them? Why didn't he give them to you? Why did he keep them?" The questions rushed out of me before I could stop them. I looked up at my mother, hoping that she could make some sense out of the situation I found myself in. She looked back at me, her dark brown eyes full of sympathy and sorrow. She ran a hand through her short, naturally curly black hair and took a deep breath.
"I can't tell you why he kept them, that's something only he can answer for you. What I can tell you is how he got them." I laid back against the headboard of my bed and waited for my mother to begin. She turned off the television and placed the remote on the table to her left.
"After the Reapers were destroyed, it didn't take long to clean up the Husks and other enemies that were left. The Normandy's ground team quickly regrouped and decided that the easiest way to find you would be to split up into groups. Since Liara, Garrus, and James were the least injured, they were ones who lead the teams who went into the Citadel to find you. James got to you first." She paused and looked away from me. She kept her eyes trained on the floor for a full minute before she began again.
"He told us that he never would've seen you if it wasn't for the trail of blood you left on the ground. The blood led to a pile of rubble, and sticking out between some beams was a pair of N7 dog tags. He immediately recognized them as yours. James and his team began to clear away the rubble to get to you. When they got to you, James carried you all the way back to the Normandy. He stayed with you in the Med Bay, and when you landed he carried you to this hospital. While they were prepping you for the operating room, a doctor went to remove your dog tags but James stopped him. He took the dog tags off himself and then walked out the door. I didn't know he kept them until you told me."
When she finished, the only thing I could do was stare at the ceiling. Instead of clarifying things, her story just made things a hell of a lot more complicated. Part of me wanted to believe that he did all of that because he cared for me. That he really, truly cared for me in the same way I cared for him. Another part of me, the more cynical part, believed that he was simply doing his job. For six months he was my warden, my bodyguard, my protector. It could be that he simply fell back into that role. I didn't know what to think at that point.
"You need your rest Andrea." My mother's statement broke me from the steadily declining train of thought I was on. She got up from the couch and gave me a kiss on the forehead like she used to do when I was little.
"I'll be back to check on you tomorrow. Try to get some sleep."
"I will. Goodnight mom."
"Goodnight honey."
When the click of the closing door signaled that my mother had indeed left, I slid down in the bed, laid on my back and stared up at the ceiling. The coolness that came from the metal of my dog tags felt like a ten ton weight on my chest. Why couldn't things like that ever be simple? Why did they always have to be so complicated, so confusing, so... scary? I needed to talk to him, to clear all of this up. I knew it was the only way I would ever be able to find peace. As I rolled over on my side to sleep, I made a promise to myself that I would stop being such a chicken shit and I would tell him how I felt.