Work Text:
Tech must have been exhausted to fall asleep wearing his goggles (again). He wakes with a start, as if from an unpleasant dream.
"Goggles off, Tech", I sit on the edge of his rack, holding a cup of caf for him.
"Mrmph..." His wordless reply is uncharacteristic of Tech, except on a particularly rough morning. He sits up, pushing his goggles off his head to loop around his wrist, then takes the proffered mug.
"Sorry, we're out of the good stuff."
Tech grimaces, but sips more of the fortifying beverage gratefully. His eyes are still half closed and bleary. I know that look. Too little sleep under pressure will cause anyone to fray, given enough time. Together with Echo, he's saved all our lives three times in two days, fixing the unfixable and bypassing seemingly inevitable disasters. This morning he's obviously feeling the strain.
I scoot in beside him once he sets the mug down and reach around to massage his temples. His posture loosens the slightest bit and he scrubs at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, blinking to clear the last residue of the dream. I pause to let him take another pull from the caf.
"Better?"
"Significantly better. Thank you."
I look him over with a practiced eye and rest my hand on his shoulder. "Hmmm, nope. You're still a tense mess."
"That is fair assessment." His mouth quirks into a half smile.
"Give me another minute or three, then?" My thumbs find the tension between his shoulder blades and begin to work out the knots through the fabric of his black undersuit.
"I won't fight you. Take all the time you need." Tech shifts on the narrow rack to make it easier to reach his back from where I'm sitting. "Where did you learn to do this?"
One hand on his shoulder to steady him, I work the other up to the base of his neck. "In another life, it seems like, now. I've picked up some handy skills along the way."
My fingers root out the tension of too many long hours spent over his data pad, or scrunched into cramped parts of the ship's inner workings that were not designed with someone as tall as he is in mind. Sliding my hand up the back of his head, I work the pressure points behind his ears. His breathing is more relaxed now, his head wobbling a little under my hands. My strong fingers inch slowly farther up the curve of his skull, pressing through the remaining tension and rubbing soothing circles as they go.
Tech hums a soft sigh of relief as I smooth his now mussed short hair. Stroking more gently down his neck, to his shoulders, I lift my hands away slowly to let him steady himself again. Slipping his goggles back into place, he looks ready to tackle the day.
Tech touches my wrist as I stand to leave but whatever he was about to say is interrupted by Echo waking with a curse and a lurch that spills him half off the rack across from Tech's.
As Echo remembers where he is, I reach for the thermal carafe and another mug.
My work here is not yet finished.