There's a pause, then: "Come in."
I push the door open with my good shoulder and find Rachel exactly where I left her. Curled up on the bed, knees to chest, looking small and lost in a way that makes something ache in my chest.
She looks up when I enter, and her eyes go to the plate in my hands.
"Just a sandwich," I say, setting it down on the dresser next to Luna's medications. "Nothing fancy. Didn't know what you liked, so I kept it simple. Turkey and cheese."
"It's perfect." She unfolds herself and moves to the dresser, picking up the sandwich with hands that shake slightly. "Thank you."
"You already thanked me. Don't need to do it again."
She takes a bite, and I watch her close her eyes like it's the best thing she's ever tasted. Probably because she's been running on nothing but fear and adrenaline for days.
"You should eat too," she says after swallowing. "You look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm fine."
"You keep saying that. I'm starting to think you don't know what 'fine' actually means."
Despite my exhaustion, despite the pain, despite everything, I feel that almost-smile again. "Probably not."
Rachel finishes half the sandwich before setting it down, her appetite apparently catching up with her stomach. She picks upthe water bottle and drinks deeply, and I try not to notice the way her throat works as she swallows.
Try not to notice a lot of things about her, actually.
Failing spectacularly.
"You're an odd man, Shadow."
"So, I've been told."
"Not necessarily a bad thing. Just... odd." She picks up the pain medication Luna left and stares at it. "Will you stay? Just for a little while, until I fall asleep. I don't... I don't want to be alone with my thoughts right now."
Every instinct I have screams at me to say no. To maintain professional distance. To not get any more involved with this damaged, prickly woman who's already gotten under my skin in ways I don't understand.
But I hear myself say, "Yeah. I'll stay."
Relief flashes across her face, quickly hidden. She takes the medication and settles onto the bed, pulling the thin blanket up to her chin. I grab the chair from near the dresser and position it by the door, far enough away to be respectful but close enough that she knows I'm here.
"Shadow?" Her voice is sleepy, already getting drowsy from the medication.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For defending me. For staying. For... everything."
I don't know what to say to that, so I just nod even though her eyes are already closed. I watch as her breathing slowly evens out, her body relaxing as the pain medication pulls her toward sleep. The tension in her shoulders gradually eases, and some of the haunted look fades from her face.
She's even more beautiful like this. Peaceful. Like maybe she's dreaming of something better than the nightmare she's been living.
I should leave now that she's asleep. Should go back to my own room and get some rest before my shoulder gives out completely. But I stay in the chair, watching over her like some kind of fucking guardian angel.
Which is ridiculous because I'm nobody's angel. I'm a weapon. A shadow that moves through the darkness, taking lives and carrying ghosts.
But for this woman, for Rachel with her walls and her pain and her refusal to be anything other than exactly what she is, I can be this. Can be the steady presence in the darkness, the one who stays when everyone else leaves.
Even if I don't understand why.
Even if it scares the shit out of me.
