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When Kim wakes up, it kind of feels like she’s on fire. Still on fire? She has vague memories of being on fire from before she woke up, but those could be holdovers from the last traumatic battle or something.
What’s certain is that her whole body hurts - hurts in the kind of way that it hasn’t hurt since she became a fucking superhero - and that she’s terrified for her friends.
Kim bolts upright despite the spike of pain she feels everywhere, radiating out from her chest. Her vision is blurred, hazy and dark around the edges, and the only thing she knows is that she needs to go, needs to find her friends, needs to help them, protect them.
Through the haze of her panic, she feels someone pushing her shoulders back firmly.
“...you have to...”
“...let her...”
“...holy shit!”
In broken patches, she can feel herself morph; an arm enclosed in pink armor, then bare again. Her shoulder. Part of her face. Each time, it feels like her armor is clawing its way through her. Each time, Kim thinks she screams.
“Kim–.”
...
When Kim wakes up, her whole body hurts - this deep ache that spreads out through her, making it painful to breathe. Her throat is raw. She tastes blood.
She tries to move, but the ache is too deep, too strong, sharpens into something world-ending. Someone shrieks.
It takes a long moment to realize that someone is her.
...
When Kim wakes up, she doesn’t know where she is. Not at first anyway, not when she blearily opens her eyes and adjusts to the semi-darkness of the room.
It’s not quite enough to set her nerves on edge, but almost. Almost enough to raise the alarm.
Someone warm is holding her hand. Turning her head to see who it is feels like a monumental challenge, overcome only by Kim’s own near blind-curiosity now that her interest has been piqued.
For a terrifying moment, Kim can’t think of the name of the girl curled up in the chair beside her. Can’t conjure any concrete details about her. But she looks comfortingly familiar; even if Kim’s brain can’t bring forth her name, her heart remembers loving her. So it’s okay. It’s okay.
...
When Kim wakes up, her head is fucking pounding.
“Fuck,” she grumbles, going to roll onto her side and finding, irritatingly enough, that she can’t for the ache in her ribs.
There’s a brief flicker of movement beside her and she looks up just in time to see Trini drag a hand down her face, her expression of relief tempered by exhaustion.
Kim glances down at herself – yep, that’s the med bay bed. And yes, those are bandages. She pieces the rest together quickly enough.
Looking back to Trini, Kim offers a weak smile. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she croaks. “But you look like shit.”
For a split second, Trini wears this adorable look of bewilderment. Kim adores that expression, loves catching Trini off-guard enough that she doesn’t have quite enough time to school her features into her usual mask of neutrality. Loves knowing that she’s still able to fluster the other girl so completely.
“You asshole,” Trini hisses after a beat, her previously adorable expression morphing into one equals parts furious and terrified, relieved and righteously indignant. “You got blown up, you’re not allowed to crack jokes.” She pulls away, drawing into herself more with each word she says and it breaks Kim to watch.
Sure, she may not remember the whole getting blown up bit, but she sure as hell feels guilty about it if it makes Trini hold herself away like this, like she’s afraid to touch or be touched.
“I’m sure I had a good reason,” Kim offers weakly, even though she knows that there are only a handful of reasons good enough to warrant getting blown up. One of them is staring her down with incredulous eyes at this very moment. Not that Kim will share that with her, at least not at this very moment.
There’s this face Trini pulls when she wants to say something, but won’t; her brows furrow just the slightest, her jaw sets like she’s actively holding herself back from speaking. Kim’s well-acquainted with it, has honed the skills to push just enough to get her girlfriend to finally, finally say what’s on her mind.
Somehow, when she sees this looks appear now, she has a sinking feeling that all her hard-won knowledge of the ins and outs of Trini Gomez won’t do shit for her.
“Trini, I–,” she starts, cut off by Jason slamming into view of the open med-bay door, closely followed by Zack and Billy.
“Holy shit, Kim,” Jason pants, doubling over as he reaches her bedside. “You - you gave us a fucking scare.”
Zack, arguably, has the best bedside manner of the whole team. He comes in quietly, asks her seriously, “How are you feeling?” as he adjusts the blankets over her legs.
“‘ve been better,” Kim mumbles, eyes still on Trini even as the other girl stares up at the ceiling. She finally turns to look at the boys on her other side. “What happened?”
Jason and Zack exchange a look; Zack sends a furtive glance in Trini’s direction and presumably receives no answer.
Over their shoulders, Billy hovers, worried. “You absorbed a bomb,” he supplies, turning his attention onto the control panel mounted on the wall. “Do you not remember that?”
Oh. Right.
Here’s the thing: Kim still doesn’t really remember the actual event. Like – Billy says you absorbed a bomb and it matches up, roughly speaking, with the way Kim’s body feels, but there’s this gaping hole in her memory around whatever happened, a disconnect between the way she feels and what she remembers.
“We were -,” she stumbles over her words, head throbbing. “We were fighting?”
“You don’t remember?” Jason asks, alarmed. “Billy?” He turns to the other boy, already deep in discussion with Alpha-5 about brain injuries and traumatic amnesia and Kim’s head is swimming in it, in the thought that she doesn’t remember, in the thought that she can’t remember, and Trini still can’t look at her.
“Hey,” Zack soothes, glancing between Kim and Trini, worry written across his face. “Kimmy–,” Kim won’t even hold the name against him, “–you gotta stay calm, okay? You just woke up.”
Kim focuses on Zack, then. Everything else sucks. Her chest aches, each breath a sharp pain, and apparently she literally got blown up, and there’s a selfish, pitifully needy part of her that just wants Trini to get over whatever it is she’s stewing on and crawl into bed beside Kim, just wants the reassuring weight and warmth of the other girl pressed up against her side.
Without the words or the wherewithal to ask for that, Kim focuses on Zack. On the feeling of his hand on her wrist. On his breathing, carefully controlled. Obviously measured for her benefit.
He raises his eyebrows in a silent question and Kim’s not sure of what the answer should be, but maybe he sees whatever it is that he needs to see, because then Zack is on his feet again, his hand still carefully lain over Kim’s arm.
“Hey guys,” he says, drawing Jason and Billy’s attention. Alpha-5, oblivious, whirls over to the readout of Kim’s vitals along the wall. “I think Kimmy needs her rest,” Zack tells them. “She’s awake, she’s lucid. Let’s give her some room.”
Jason looks like he’s on the verge of protest, his Team Dad instinct kicking into overdrive, but it’s Billy that looks to Kim for confirmation, concern written in the crease between his brows. “Would that be better?” he asks. “I know I didn’t like it when my mom hovered when I would get sick as a kid. It would make sense if you didn’t like it now.”
Kim nods, grateful for the out. It’s not that she doesn’t want her family near – because that’s what they are to her now, Kim realizes with a jolt: family in a way that her own parents could never even dream of – but their concern is making her claustrophobic, only serving to reinforce just how close to death Kim apparently came.
“We’ll just be – we’ll be right out in the Roost,” Jason says haltingly, obviously hating the idea that he’s being dismissed from his duties. He rubs at the back of his neck roughly, looking haggard. “If anything changes–.”
“Jace,” Kim manages, her voice rough with disuse. “I’m fairly sure you’ll know if something’s gone wrong long before I will.”
That placates him a little, Kim thinks, if his shoulders slumping is any indicator, some tension relieved at least.
“Okay,” he assents, though he still doesn’t look happy about it.
The boys shuffle out after saying their goodbyes, Jason casting a final worried look over his shoulder before he disappears down the hall.
And then it’s quiet. Alpha’s gentle whirring disappears as he makes himself scarce, slipping out of the room to head to the supply closet, Kim’s sure.
Beside her, Trini shifts in her seat, obviously uncomfortable. “I should let you rest,” she says after a long, silent moment as she makes to stand.
“Trini,” Kim murmurs, exhausted.
“I’ll be nearby,” she promises halfheartedly.
It feels like something’s broken between them and Kim can’t remember what it is or when she broke it – because it must have been her, right? She must have done something or said something that put Trini off, brought them back to where they were at the start: Trini, skittish and distrustful, always keeping her thoughts to herself. Kim, making it worse.
“Trini,” Kim manages again, her voice breaking and eyes burning. God, this is pathetic. She’s pathetic. That doesn’t stop her from adding, as Trini slips out of her chair and rounds the corner of the cot, “I’m sorry.”
It’s enough to make the other girl freeze, snapping her head to look at Kim with this unreadable expression. “Don’t do that,” she says.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t–,” Trini crosses her arms tightly over her chest. “I don’t know. It’s like you think I’m mad at you.”
“Aren’t you?” It might be the fact that she’s recently out of a coma or that, she’s sure, she sustained a wild amount of head trauma, but Kim feels like she has whiplash, her head spinning. Isn’t Trini mad at her? Isn’t that why she won’t come any closer?
“I – I’m mad. But not at you,” Trini sighs. “I’m mad that you almost died. And,” she struggles for a moment, her eyes darting around the room. “And I’m mad that I couldn’t protect you.”
Oh.
“Trini,” Kim breathes.
"You probably don’t remember this,” Trini states, voice tight, “but my Zord was in better condition. I should have been the one to take the hit.”
“Trini.”
“You were on fire, Kimberly. You just – you were just falling and I really–.” Trini chokes on her words, swaying on her feet. Kim reaches for her and she doesn’t pull away, lets Kim weakly pull her closer. “I really thought I was going to lose you,” Trini manages finally, her hip bumping against the edge of Kim’s cot.
“I...” Kim trails off, at a loss of what to say. She thinks that maybe it would have been better if Trini was mad at her – at least she knows how to fix that. She’s not sure what she can do here.
If this all went down how Kim thinks it did – throwing herself between a bomb and everyone else to dull the impact, putting herself in danger to avoid Trini being in danger – well, Kim can’t bring herself to regret it. Can’t muster a sincere apology, because she knows that she would have never forgiven herself if she hadn’t done it, if she’d watched Trini’s Zord go up in flames.
But she can manage a sincere apology for the dark rings under Trini’s eyes. For the way Trini’s clutching her hand, like she’s not sure Kim’s real.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Kim tells her earnestly. “But please don’t be angry with yourself because I’m a self-sacrificial dumbass.”
Trini scoffs at Kim’s attempt to lighten the mood. “What am I supposed to do, then?” she asks shortly.
“Just stay with me.” Kim shuffles over in the cot with some difficulty and pats the newly opened space beside her with free hand. “I’m pretty sure it’s the doctor’s orders.”
“Kim–.”
“If I’m not allowed to martyr myself, neither are you.” Trini’s avoiding her eyes again, looking hard up at the ceiling, her nose red from crying. Kim tugs on their joined hands and tries to meet Trini’s gaze as evenly as she can when the other girl finally looks at her, her eyes dark and deep and wet. “I’m asking you to stay, Trini. Please.”
For one long moment, Kim thinks that Trini’s going to pull away - that she’ll decide she needs some space to process, some breathing room to just get a handle on her own head. Kim wouldn’t blame her if she did, even if she would miss her.
But then Trini’s letting go of Kim’s hand in favor of gently shuffling Kim over a little more, carving out a little more space for her to crawl into. She curls around Kim carefully, wrapping a tentative arm around Kim’s waist.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” she says quietly, laying her head close to Kim’s on the pillow. Her warm breath fans over Kim’s neck, sending shivers radiating out from the spot.
Kim hums in response, wishing that she could turn onto her side to face her girlfriend. But still – it’s nice, the reassuring warmth of Trini curled around her.
“Kim?” Trini murmurs, her lips brushing Kim’s shoulder.
“Hm?” She laces her fingers through Trini’s, squeezing weakly.
Trini’s silent for a moment, then another. Finally – “Thanks for, like, not dying.”
Of all the things she expected Trini to say, it wasn’t that, and it’s enough to startle a snort of laughter from Kim.
“Oh my god,” she giggles, wincing. “Don’t make me laugh, asshole.”
She feels Trini’s lips quirk up against her skin. “Oops,” she says, not sounding very apologetic at all. “Don’t get blown up next time.”