"Then we're even."
"Hardly." His eyes drifted closed, exhaustion finally winning out over painkillers and determination. "But we can negotiate the balance later. After I heal. After Will and Lisa wake up. After you eat something and sleep for more than three hours."
He was right. I was running on fumes and adrenaline and the high of having survived another impossible situation. But I didn't want to leave. Didn't want to break this fragile moment where we'd finally admitted the thing we'd both been avoiding.
"I should let you rest," I said reluctantly.
"Stay." The word came out somewhere between order and plea. "Just for a while. I'll sleep better knowing you're here."
So I stayed. Pulled a chair close to his bed, kept my hand wrapped in his, and watched him drift into genuine sleep instead of medicated unconsciousness.
Around us, the medical bay hummed with quiet activity. Bea checked monitors, adjusted regeneration fields, made notes on her datapad. In their stasis pods, Will and Lisa slept on, unaware that they'd been saved. That someone had finally found them. That Elena Vasquez had kept her promise to Will Peters, and had lived, instead of just survived.
I was still terrified. Still convinced this would end badly because good things always did. Still carrying guilt that wouldn't wash off no matter how many times I scrubbed my hands.
But Vaxon was alive. Will and Lisa were alive. And for the first time in months, I wasn't facing the future alone.
Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was everything.
The medical bay doors opened quietly. I looked up to find Dana peering in, concern etched on her face. She caught sight of me holding Vaxon's hand, saw his peaceful expression, and smiled, small and knowing and absolutely unbearable.
I glared at her. She grinned wider, gave me a thumbs up, and retreated before I could throw anything.
Behind me, machinery beeped and whirred. Life support systems. Regeneration fields. The constant heartbeat of a ship that had become home despite never being what we'd planned.
I looked down at Vaxon's hand wrapped around mine, massive fingers dwarfing my own, callused from weapons training and combat, gentle despite the obvious strength.
A warrior's hand. A protector's hand. A man who'd taken plasma fire for me and called it his job while admitting he'd wanted me for months.
My heart did that complicated flip again. The one I'd been ignoring. The one that meant I was in serious trouble.
Because Elena Vasquez didn't do relationships. Didn't let people in. Didn't risk the kind of vulnerability that came with caring about someone who could leave or die or break her carefully reconstructed heart.
Except apparently, she did now.
Vaxon's breathing evened out into genuine rest. His hand stayed wrapped around mine, anchoring me to this moment. To this choice. To the terrifying possibility that maybe, just maybe, I deserved something good after all the bad.
Outside the medical bay, Mothership hummed through space. Somewhere in the cargo bay, Er'dox was probably debriefing the security team. Somewhere in engineering, the damage reports from our escape were being processed. Somewhere in his office, Captain Tor'van was updating records, two more survivors recovered, mission successful despite hostile engagement.
Life continued. The ship moved forward. And I sat beside Vaxon's bed, covered in his blood, holding his hand, and tried to believe in a future that didn't end in disaster.
The medical bay doors opened again, this time revealing Bea with a tray of food and a look that promised no arguments.
"Eat," she ordered, setting the tray on a nearby table. "Then shower. Then sleep for at least six hours. Non-negotiable."
"I should stay?—"
"He'll be unconscious for another four hours minimum. You won't miss anything." She softened slightly. "Elena, you did good today. You saved people. Including yourself. Now take care of that remarkable person so she can continue saving people tomorrow."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to insist I was fine, that rest was unnecessary, that I needed to stay vigilant in case something went wrong.
But exhaustion was crashing over me in waves now, and the food smelled incredible, and Vaxon was sleeping peacefully instead of bleeding out in some derelict corridor.
Maybe Bea was right. Maybe I could take care of myself for a few hours. Could eat and sleep and exist without constantly preparing for the next disaster.
"Six hours," I agreed reluctantly. "Then I'm coming back."
"I'll have him awake and waiting." Bea's smile turned knowing. "And probably driving me insane asking when you'll return."
