[It's a risk he's willing to take, to piss her off for her own good. Hasn't he proved that he will risk her anger if it means that he gets to keep her already tonight. He won't have her pushing herself and wrecking the hard work of the doctors that fought to keep her alive.
Not tonight. Any other night than tonight, Mako, please.
He's got her hand held tight and he's probably making another bruise on her knuckles, from how tightly he's holding her hand, both a warning and a comfort. Don't try and go anywhere and he's right here, Mako, he's here, she's not alone, it's not her fault.]
I know, baby, I know. They didn't say much of anything. It doesn't look good for her, but they were surprised she survived the surgery at all. She's a strong one, our kid.
[ It's fortunate that she's only just recovered, and that outburst has taken out more than half of what she's capable of. Raleigh's hurting her, his grip unwavering, but maybe that's what she needs right now -- the comfort and the reminder that she's not alone.
But her heart is breaking at the thought of her baby, their baby all alone in the NICU, fighting for her life. She turns away, fighting for control, to get herself together because it won't do to fall to pieces now.
Her hand is still in his grip, and she knows that the wait must be killing her husband too. She brings their joined hands up to press a kiss over his skinned knuckles, willing herself into calming down before she fixates on the next concern, because she's not going to fight him. She can't fight him. ]
[He doesn't let go of her hand one bit, even when she seems to calm down on the outside, when she stops fighting him and insisting to get out of bed right now, right here. It's a silent reminder that he's here, he gets it and he's just doing what's best for her right now.
He's always just trying to do the right thing for her, for their son, now for their little girl.
Raleigh leans in closer, covering their hands with his other one, holding her hand between his because he can't pull her into his arms right now and the bed's probably too small to crawl in there with her and there's the well of guilt they're both feeling between them, for not being good enough to prevent this from happening.]
[ Mako knows that's just another word for Raleigh raising some hell while she'd been unconscious. Such attacks never go without reprisals, and perhaps she should be grateful that he didn't look as awful as it could've been. Raleigh, when furious, has the rage of an avenging god, his temper terrifying to behold when he reaches unprecedented heights of brutality and callousness that sometimes leaves her stunned.
But she only nods, because he's right -- with the adrenaline and the rush and the rage over, what comes is guilt and grief and fear and worry, and she's grateful that he's there, a solid presence in the turmoil of her thoughts. ]
Oh, Raleigh. [ She reaches up with her other hand, trembling from the effort to trace his black eye, soft and gentle. ] You need to get that seen to.
[It hardly even bothers him, honestly. The bruises growing on his ribs actually hurt more but he tries to ignore it, finds it easier than it should be to ignore himself when it comes to her, when it comes to making sure that Mako is alright.
Don't worry about him, baby, get yourself better.]
It's fine. [Raleigh turns his head slightly and kisses her hand, her wrist.] You should see the other guys.
[ Mako accepts the kiss, and would've smiled if she had less weighing on her mind. It drives home the truth of their lives, and she and her baby had been lucky enough to survive, so far. But what if she'd fought them harder, if she'd been even stronger? Would their little girl still be fighting for her life?
Her eyes lid, and she curls her fingers around his hand, wanting him here. ]
My fierce king. [ She exhales. ] If only I fought harder, Raleigh. I'm sorry.
[Raleigh shushes her, immediately for that sentence. It's absolutely not her fault at all. None of it is her fault. He doesn't want an apology from her. If she'd been any weaker, had fought any less, he doesn't doubt that both their daughter and Mako would be dead right now.]
[ Sleep will be hard-won tonight, especially when she knows that her baby is fighting for her life in the NICU. Mako's exhausted and worried and no, she's not going to be able to sleep until she knows that their little one is out of the woods. ]
[This Raleigh sighing, more to himself than to her, and hitting the call button with his knuckle because she has to sleep. She needs to rest if she's going to get better and he will ask the nurse for something to help her sleep, watch him.]
How many times do I have to tell you that we can't do anything tonight? You're not going to help her by making yourself worse.
[He's glaring back at her. He's not mad at her, he's really not, he doesn't blame her for anything but he's tired and maybe he wants to sleep a little himself (in the chair, whatever) and how's he going to do that when he has to keep an eye on her.]
[ Mako pulls back; how is she to rest when she can't bring herself to, that worry roils in her mind like a plague, weighing her down with every moment that she thinks of her obscenely empty womb -- a child taken too early.
Her hands move to it, the pain blunted but keenly felt, even through the painkillers -- she grits, but doesn't say a thing. The pain, like the anger, keeps her focused. So instead of picking a fight with her husband, she says instead: ]
[That's why he was calling the nurse. Raleigh watches her hand for a moment. She's too flat, even he can tell that. Something's wrong and she wasn't even that big, she thinks she whales up when she gets pregnant but he doesn't see it the same way. She's beautiful and it's all wrong now.]
[ Yes, she is. It's a jarring, unpleasant reminder of what just happened -- it's wrong, it's unnatural and the trauma behind it is awful. It's a beautiful thing gone so wrong and Mako doesn't know how to begin to fix it.
She sighs, and turns away from him on her side, aching and trying not to cry. ] I'll sleep. Promise we'll see Nicki tomorrow?
[That little gesture hurts more than any of the bruises and cuts he's sporting from his retaliation earlier. More than the gnawing worry about their daughter and the sickening fear that he was going to lose Mako too because as awful as that would be, to lose her, Mako's never turned away from him before.
He's quiet, letting it happen because she's agreed to sleep and he wants that desperately, more than he wants to make everything better right now because he can't and he would never lie to her.]
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Not tonight. Any other night than tonight, Mako, please.
He's got her hand held tight and he's probably making another bruise on her knuckles, from how tightly he's holding her hand, both a warning and a comfort. Don't try and go anywhere and he's right here, Mako, he's here, she's not alone, it's not her fault.]
I know, baby, I know. They didn't say much of anything. It doesn't look good for her, but they were surprised she survived the surgery at all. She's a strong one, our kid.
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But her heart is breaking at the thought of her baby, their baby all alone in the NICU, fighting for her life. She turns away, fighting for control, to get herself together because it won't do to fall to pieces now.
Her hand is still in his grip, and she knows that the wait must be killing her husband too. She brings their joined hands up to press a kiss over his skinned knuckles, willing herself into calming down before she fixates on the next concern, because she's not going to fight him. She can't fight him. ]
What happened to you?
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He's always just trying to do the right thing for her, for their son, now for their little girl.
Raleigh leans in closer, covering their hands with his other one, holding her hand between his because he can't pull her into his arms right now and the bed's probably too small to crawl in there with her and there's the well of guilt they're both feeling between them, for not being good enough to prevent this from happening.]
Keeping the peace.
next tag of mine will be timeskip!
But she only nods, because he's right -- with the adrenaline and the rush and the rage over, what comes is guilt and grief and fear and worry, and she's grateful that he's there, a solid presence in the turmoil of her thoughts. ]
Oh, Raleigh. [ She reaches up with her other hand, trembling from the effort to trace his black eye, soft and gentle. ] You need to get that seen to.
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Don't worry about him, baby, get yourself better.]
It's fine. [Raleigh turns his head slightly and kisses her hand, her wrist.] You should see the other guys.
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Her eyes lid, and she curls her fingers around his hand, wanting him here. ]
My fierce king. [ She exhales. ] If only I fought harder, Raleigh. I'm sorry.
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Get some sleep, Mako. You need it.
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I can't. Not when --
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How many times do I have to tell you that we can't do anything tonight? You're not going to help her by making yourself worse.
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Not yet. Don't call the nurse.
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[He's glaring back at her. He's not mad at her, he's really not, he doesn't blame her for anything but he's tired and maybe he wants to sleep a little himself (in the chair, whatever) and how's he going to do that when he has to keep an eye on her.]
You've done everything you can.
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Her hands move to it, the pain blunted but keenly felt, even through the painkillers -- she grits, but doesn't say a thing. The pain, like the anger, keeps her focused. So instead of picking a fight with her husband, she says instead: ]
...You look tired, Raleigh. Why don't you rest?
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I can't. If I know you aren't.
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She sighs, and turns away from him on her side, aching and trying not to cry. ] I'll sleep. Promise we'll see Nicki tomorrow?
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He's quiet, letting it happen because she's agreed to sleep and he wants that desperately, more than he wants to make everything better right now because he can't and he would never lie to her.]
I promise. First chance they let us.