[Vorkosigan ficlet] Protocol
For philomytha's stocking, at fandom_stocking.
Protocol (300 words | PG | Simon/Alys | Memory)
Simon makes an uncharacteristic slip, with unexpected consequences.
Protocol
Simon woke.
Hadn't he? Or was he still dreaming?
Because the chip wasn't there. There was no response from it at all.
He scrambled to access it, even if only to read the time, but his mind was sluggish. Hazy. Trying to remember was like trying to see through a glass smeared with grease.
Simon heard his own breathing, fast and shallow. "Don't panic," he muttered. "Nightmare."
And then warm hands closed gently around his cold, clenched fists. "Simon. It's all right."
Lady Alys.
That was not a voice he could ever forget. He stilled, listening.
"You're safe," she went on, her voice quiet but firm. "Your chip malfunctioned, and the doctors have taken it out. But you'll be all right now."
Simon remembered, then, waking up once before. Seeing Miles and all the ImpSec medical personnel. But even that most recent memory was elusive, indistinct-like a dream. It hardly counted as a memory at all, compared to the ones he'd known for more than half his life.
"Simon?" It was a question this time.
He opened his eyes and saw her staring back at him, full of concern. He felt much of his tension seep away. A little smile even tugged at his mouth.
"Alys," he said.
And then he froze.
Even without his chip, Simon's gut told him that he had never been so presumptuous as to use the familiar form of her name, not aloud. Lady Alys valued protocol so very highly; what must she think of him?
He shrank back a little into his pillow, and made to apologize-
-except that her lovely eyes lit with a new, soft light, and her hands tightened around his.
And he knew, beyond all doubt, that the look on her face right now was something he would always remember.
~ fin ~
.
Protocol (300 words | PG | Simon/Alys | Memory)
Simon makes an uncharacteristic slip, with unexpected consequences.
Protocol
Simon woke.
Hadn't he? Or was he still dreaming?
Because the chip wasn't there. There was no response from it at all.
He scrambled to access it, even if only to read the time, but his mind was sluggish. Hazy. Trying to remember was like trying to see through a glass smeared with grease.
Simon heard his own breathing, fast and shallow. "Don't panic," he muttered. "Nightmare."
And then warm hands closed gently around his cold, clenched fists. "Simon. It's all right."
Lady Alys.
That was not a voice he could ever forget. He stilled, listening.
"You're safe," she went on, her voice quiet but firm. "Your chip malfunctioned, and the doctors have taken it out. But you'll be all right now."
Simon remembered, then, waking up once before. Seeing Miles and all the ImpSec medical personnel. But even that most recent memory was elusive, indistinct-like a dream. It hardly counted as a memory at all, compared to the ones he'd known for more than half his life.
"Simon?" It was a question this time.
He opened his eyes and saw her staring back at him, full of concern. He felt much of his tension seep away. A little smile even tugged at his mouth.
"Alys," he said.
And then he froze.
Even without his chip, Simon's gut told him that he had never been so presumptuous as to use the familiar form of her name, not aloud. Lady Alys valued protocol so very highly; what must she think of him?
He shrank back a little into his pillow, and made to apologize-
-except that her lovely eyes lit with a new, soft light, and her hands tightened around his.
And he knew, beyond all doubt, that the look on her face right now was something he would always remember.
~ fin ~
.