(no subject)
When Eiko had called, he was there immediately. He scrambled for the PINpoint, dropped it once, but finally managed to hit the button that would return him to the labs. He already had it set those coordinates, ready to, at a moment's notice, press the button that would take him back. To be there the second he hung up the phone.
He's running down the halls of Eiko's complex, his heart hammering in his ears, becoming the only sound he can hear. Setting the beat for the only thought going through his head, over and over. Oh please, oh please, oh please...
He hung on Eiko's every word, but once the sentence 'she's going to be okay' left her lips, his mind switched gears. He had to get in there. He had to see her. He had to touch her.
One quick detox later, he stood at her bedside, eyes wide and watery, looking over her sleeping form. Her hair was gone. She was so very, very pale, enough that she rivaled his own skin tone. There was a tube going across her face and inserted into her nose. There were dark rings under her eyes and an IV in her arm.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He's scared to touch her at first. Afraid that it would bring her discomfort, that it would somehow break her while in this fragile state. He pointedly ignores the hum and beep of the equipment around her. He hates those noises. But he would endure them for her and for the chance to be near her.
Glancing back at where he had come from, to the door Eiko was waiting behind, he hesitates momentarily before he carefully hoists himself up onto her bed. The sheets are starched and dissinfected, feeling sort of stiff. They crinkle. He moves so carefully, frightened of disturbing or hurting her. He made sure to get up onto the side of her that doesn't have the arm with the IV. He doesn't want to bump that.
Biting his lip, he finally places a shaking hand onto her shoulder.
"Mi amor..."
Then he sits down gently next to her, hip to hip, keeping his hand where it is. All his movements are slow and delicate and his repositioning here is no exception.
Then he waits for her to open her eyes.
He's running down the halls of Eiko's complex, his heart hammering in his ears, becoming the only sound he can hear. Setting the beat for the only thought going through his head, over and over. Oh please, oh please, oh please...
He hung on Eiko's every word, but once the sentence 'she's going to be okay' left her lips, his mind switched gears. He had to get in there. He had to see her. He had to touch her.
One quick detox later, he stood at her bedside, eyes wide and watery, looking over her sleeping form. Her hair was gone. She was so very, very pale, enough that she rivaled his own skin tone. There was a tube going across her face and inserted into her nose. There were dark rings under her eyes and an IV in her arm.
She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He's scared to touch her at first. Afraid that it would bring her discomfort, that it would somehow break her while in this fragile state. He pointedly ignores the hum and beep of the equipment around her. He hates those noises. But he would endure them for her and for the chance to be near her.
Glancing back at where he had come from, to the door Eiko was waiting behind, he hesitates momentarily before he carefully hoists himself up onto her bed. The sheets are starched and dissinfected, feeling sort of stiff. They crinkle. He moves so carefully, frightened of disturbing or hurting her. He made sure to get up onto the side of her that doesn't have the arm with the IV. He doesn't want to bump that.
Biting his lip, he finally places a shaking hand onto her shoulder.
"Mi amor..."
Then he sits down gently next to her, hip to hip, keeping his hand where it is. All his movements are slow and delicate and his repositioning here is no exception.
Then he waits for her to open her eyes.