Which is why he's wondering why he's staring at the ceiling rather than sleeping. The last few hours- never mind the last few days- have been a whirlwind. Once the helicopters plucked he and Mako out of the ocean it was back to the Shatterdome and straight to the infirmary- as much as people wanted to celebrate and pat their backs or hoist them up on their shoulders or what have you. They'd been through a lot, the least of which was oxygen deprivation. They'd been pretty much ordered to report straight away, just in case.
The infirmary had also been occupied for a time by both Doctors Gottlieb and Geiszler. It had been... quite loud. Raleigh found he didn't really have the patience for their sniping at each other, thanks mostly to exhaustion, but managed to keep his mouth shut.
Now that the scientists and the medics have departed, leaving he and Mako on separate cots in a darkened infirmary to rest and recover, he finds that he cannot, for the life in him, fall asleep.
He rolls over, eyes falling on the outline of Mako on the next bed over. He's not entirely sure if she's sleeping or not, and can't bring himself to risk waking her. She's been through a lot, too. He knows, he understands intimately what it's like to lose family. But sometimes knowing it's coming is worse than not knowing. He'd been in her head when it happened, and he felt everything she felt. She'd lost more than a mentor- she'd lost a father.
There's a part of him that wants to squeeze into that little cot with her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go, ill-advised as that may be considering what they've recently gone through. She's become nothing short of precious to him in such a short time, and it's a little astounding to think about. She's his co-pilot. His other half. A voice in the cold, lonely silence left by Yancy's death. Before he met Mako, he could have sworn that silence was never going to end. He'd to anything for her, he knows that with absolute certainty.
None of this contemplation is getting him any closer to sleep, however, so he swings his feet off of the cot and pads over to where Mako is resting. His eyes have adjusted enough that he can see a stray lock of hair has drifted over her cheek. He lets out a soft, amused exhalation, a small smile forming on his face. Even if she could probably kick is ass in a hundred different ways, there's something undeniably sweet about the sight of her lying there.
With careful fingers, he tucks her hair behind her ear. He'd been fully prepared to die in that Jaeger, but fate obviously had other plans.
And if it meant having Mako in his life, then he was certainly glad to be alive. ]
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Which is why he's wondering why he's staring at the ceiling rather than sleeping. The last few hours- never mind the last few days- have been a whirlwind. Once the helicopters plucked he and Mako out of the ocean it was back to the Shatterdome and straight to the infirmary- as much as people wanted to celebrate and pat their backs or hoist them up on their shoulders or what have you. They'd been through a lot, the least of which was oxygen deprivation. They'd been pretty much ordered to report straight away, just in case.
The infirmary had also been occupied for a time by both Doctors Gottlieb and Geiszler. It had been... quite loud. Raleigh found he didn't really have the patience for their sniping at each other, thanks mostly to exhaustion, but managed to keep his mouth shut.
Now that the scientists and the medics have departed, leaving he and Mako on separate cots in a darkened infirmary to rest and recover, he finds that he cannot, for the life in him, fall asleep.
He rolls over, eyes falling on the outline of Mako on the next bed over. He's not entirely sure if she's sleeping or not, and can't bring himself to risk waking her. She's been through a lot, too. He knows, he understands intimately what it's like to lose family. But sometimes knowing it's coming is worse than not knowing. He'd been in her head when it happened, and he felt everything she felt. She'd lost more than a mentor- she'd lost a father.
There's a part of him that wants to squeeze into that little cot with her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go, ill-advised as that may be considering what they've recently gone through. She's become nothing short of precious to him in such a short time, and it's a little astounding to think about. She's his co-pilot. His other half. A voice in the cold, lonely silence left by Yancy's death. Before he met Mako, he could have sworn that silence was never going to end. He'd to anything for her, he knows that with absolute certainty.
None of this contemplation is getting him any closer to sleep, however, so he swings his feet off of the cot and pads over to where Mako is resting. His eyes have adjusted enough that he can see a stray lock of hair has drifted over her cheek. He lets out a soft, amused exhalation, a small smile forming on his face. Even if she could probably kick is ass in a hundred different ways, there's something undeniably sweet about the sight of her lying there.
With careful fingers, he tucks her hair behind her ear. He'd been fully prepared to die in that Jaeger, but fate obviously had other plans.
And if it meant having Mako in his life, then he was certainly glad to be alive. ]