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The first sound that reaches Minkowski’s ears and drags her from her slumber is so quiet she almost thinks she dreamt it. She lies there, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, staring at the ceiling and willing her eyes to adjust to the dark. It wouldn’t exactly be out of the question for the ship to be making weird noises- sure, Jacobi did a great job, but the Urania has been through a lot in the past few, well, ever- but this seems different.
Closer.
It's a human sound, and as it comes again, Minkowski hears it for what it is. A gasping, scared and almost choked, followed by mumbling too quiet for her to make out any real words. Reaching to undo the straps that keep her in examination-table-turned-bed, Minkowski turns to look at the other person in the room.
Between the issues that were divvying up rooms for the surviving crew and Minkowski still recovering from her stomach wound, she and Lovelace had settled on both of them staying in the medical bay. So the night prior, Lovelace had dragged in a sleeping bag and gotten it mounted in place to the wall a few feet away from Minkowski's bed. The muttering grows faster, and as Minkowski's eyes adjust to the dim light she can see Lovelace attempting to thrash in her sleep, held in place by the confines of her sleeping bag.
“Lovelace?” Minkowski tries, voice just barely above a whisper. There's no response- at least, not one that's actually meant for her- as Lovelace gasps out again. Tentatively, Minkowski reaches out to touch her arm, and Lovelace suddenly jerks awake. She's wide-eyed, staring at Minkowski silently for a moment. Then, her hands begin to awkwardly fumble with the zippers on her sleeping bag, eyes still locked on Minkowski.
“Minkowski. You're here.” Lovelace breathes out as if in disbelief. Her words come as more of a question, though her tone is flat in a way that Minkowski can't exactly parse what emotion it’s supposed to convey. Even in the dark, though, Minkowski can see the terror and confusion etched on her face.
"Yes…? Why wouldn't-” Her confused reply is cut off by the sudden hug Lovelace pulls her into, arms wrapped tight around her as if Minkowski is going to disappear any moment. Lovelace's face is pressed against her shoulder, and now that they're this close Minkowski can feel her shaking.
“You're here.” The captain echoes, though the words are so faint that Minkowski gets the feeling they're not really meant for her.
The two of them stay like that for a long moment; no words being exchanged, Lovelace trembling like a leaf as Minkowski's arms come up to hold her in turn. She's not crying- at least, Minkowski doesn't think so- but her breaths catch every few seconds, unsteady and hiccuping in her throat like she's trying to draw herself back from being on the verge of a breakdown. Minkowski's nails trace shapes on the small of her back, over her shirt. “Bad dream?” Minkowski murmurs.
She half expects Lovelace to laugh at the question- of course it was a bad dream, Minkowski, what else?- but Lovelace just shudders, her hold on Minkowski tightening. Instinctively Minkowski braces for pain where her stomach is still wrapped in gauze, but just as quickly she realizes that Lovelace is careful not to squeeze anywhere near her abdomen. She merely clutches at Minkowski's shirt, restrained, hands grasping at the fabric near her shoulders, and Minkowski is actually worried Lovelace isn't getting enough air from where her face is buried against her. When she notices Minkowski tense up, her grip goes slack and she begins to pull away.
"Wait- sorry, Lovelace. I'm okay, you didn't hurt me. You can-"
"Don't."
Minkowski blinks. "Don't…?"
Lovelace's head hangs, gaze locked on the empty space between them. "Don't say that. Don't apologize. You didn't-" She inhales, hands resting on Minkowski's shoulders like putting distance between them is only thing stopping her from dragging Minkowski into another embrace. Her voice is barely above a murmur, picking up speed as she talks. "It wasn't your fault. We didn't know what would happen, with Cutter, and things went terribly, so, so terribly, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I-" The words catch in her throat, breaths stuttering as she finally breaks into a sob.
Minkowski doesn't give her the chance to reply, because this time she's the one pulling Lovelace in. A choked sound wrenches its way from Lovelace's mouth as she practically crumbles in Minkowski's arms, as if that's all the permission she needed to fall apart. "Easy, easy. It's-"
"Minkowski-"
"Just breathe. I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Just stay with me."
Lovelace tucks her face into the crook of Minkowski's neck, hands hesitantly ghosting over Minkowski's shoulderblades. They hover there for a few seconds, and Minkowski frowns ever-so-slightly.
"Lovelace, you're… you're allowed to touch me."
"Don't want to hurt you." Minkowski can swear she hears a 'more' tacked onto the end of that. Or maybe it's just Lovelace breathing.
"You won't."
"I-"
"You won't." Minkowski repeats, voice firm. She hopes she sounds as strong as she's trying to be, for both their sakes. "Please touch me."
Hesitantly, Lovelace's trembling arms wrap around her, cautiously squeezing around her upper body as if she's ready for Minkowski to change her mind and push her away at any moment. Minkowski traces shapes on the space between her shoulderblades, and Lovelace sinks into the touch, clinging so closely to Minkowski that the problem of breathing properly flashes through her mind once again. The silence is broken only by the sound of Lovelace quietly crying into her shoulder and Minkowski gently shushing her. For everything she's been through on the Hephaestus, Minkowski doesn't think she's all that good at comforting people. Given, none of them are, for the most part- a mission like this is much more along the lines of force it down and deal with it on your own than it is talk it out and feel better when it comes to the inevitable emotional baggage you end up carrying. At the very least, she's glad that whatever she's doing seems to be helping Lovelace.
Minkowski isn't sure how long they stay like that, her cradling Lovelace as her sobs ebb into weak hiccups, and as soon as the thought of how long they've been here crosses her mind she realizes just as quickly that she doesn't care. She'll stay here as long as Lovelace needs her to. Forever, if she asked.
"It was," Lovelace shudders, squinting her eyes shut against Minkowski's shoulder as she rubs Lovelace's back. She breathes out a noise that sounds close to a bitter laugh, but it's hard to tell. "A bad dream. Yeah."
"You don't have to tell me about it. If... you don't want to."
"Okay. Yeah, okay." Lovelace shifts, adjusting where her chin rests against Minkowski. Minkowski can feel the tear-soaked fabric of her shirt clinging to her skin but pays it no mind, opting to instead listen to the sound of Lovelace's breathing steadying out, the way she clears her throat before she talks again. "You haven't been sleeping well either."
It's not an accusation, nor is it a question. It's only a statement, something to nudge the topic to something else, and it's just as gentle as Minkowski assuring her she doesn't have to go over the details. And Lovelace is right, she hasn't. There'd been about a days gap between Minkowski waking up in the medical bay and Lovelace moving her semipermanent sleeping accommodations there. According to Doug, Lovelace had stayed with her most of the time she was unconscious and recovering, but decided to give Minkowski some space once she wasn't comatose. The first night Minkowski had actually slept was lonely, fitfully, and interrupted by nightmares where she wasn't in control of her own body, where she watched her hands reach for the handle of an airlock or tighten around Eiffel's neck without her input. Every night terror woke her up feeling terrified and left her unable to fall back asleep for what felt like hours. Maybe it's selfish to say she was more than a little happy to hear that the lack of space meant they'd be technically sharing a room. Now, though, she sighs and closes her eyes. "...Yeah. It's better with you here, though."
She laughs again, quieter this time, but genuine. Not uncomfortable or forced like earlier. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Minkowski echoes. Now that they've both calmed down a little, Minkowski feels the exhaustion begin to creep back in, sweeping away the worry that had flooded her system when Lovelace had first woken up. "I just... I feel safer." Minkowski pauses, embarrassment suddenly rushing in at the admission. "I don't know why I said that, just..." She trails off, and hopes that Lovelace can't feel her face get warm from where she's cuddled up against her.
Lovelace smiles, and any self-consciousness Minkowski feels is washed away. "No, I think it's sweet. Really." A hand comes up to brush against the nape of Minkowski's neck, fingers gently tracing over her skin. "...Thank you."
Minkowski blinks- partially distracted by the affection, partially confused. "For...?"
"Anything." Lovelace sighs out, tilting her head back. She meets Minkowski's eyes, and before Minkowski can process how Lovelace's gaze softens when she looks at her, she leans back in, forehead resting against Minkowski's other shoulder. After a moment, she presses her lips to Minkowski's cheek, reaching to thumb some hair away from her face before kissing her jaw. "Everything. I just wanted to make sure I said that."
"Oh." Minkowski mumbles, quiet, adjusting her hold on Lovelace and letting her eyes close. Lovelace is warm; feeling safe in her arms is the easiest thing in the world right now. At least, it's miles easier than getting herself to say what she wants to. "Do you want to," Minkowski starts, then clears her throat and tries again. "Could you stay here the rest of the night?"
Lovelace grins a little bit against her neck. "I'm already here, Minkowski. I'm not going anywhere."
Good, is what she thinks, but: "I mean here. In the bed."
At that, Lovelace snorts, shoulders shaking with quiet but unmistakable laughter. "You really think it'll fit both of us?"
"Well-" Minkowski begins, feeling her face flush again. That is a good point. "We don't have t-"
"That'd be a yes, Minkowski." A beat. "Please."
There's another moment of silence, of the two of them unmoving, wrapped in each others arms, before Minkowski reluctantly reaches out an arm to pull them back towards the bed. The straps are fiddly, and some of them don't stretch long enough to properly snap over both of them, but by the time they're all clicked into place, the two of them have figured out a mostly comfortable way to make it work. Holding onto each other makes up for where they aren't technically secured, anyway. It's nice, Minkowski thinks, to be able to be close to someone without the reason being dragging them from certain death or something just as emotionally taxing.
"You sure you're going to be able to sleep like this, Minkowski?" Lovelace murmurs, even though there's no way she wasn't able to feel some of the tension drain from Minkowski's body once Lovelace had enfolded her in her arms. She's too tired to be embarrassed by the soft sigh that escapes her mouth as one of Lovelace's hands runs through her hair.
"Mm. Yeah. Are you?" Even as she tries to keep up conversation, it's a struggle for Minkowski to keep her eyes open. It's weird, in a way. Being so relaxed like this feels so unnatural that it almost makes her worried, like something is wrong. She tries her best to ignore that feeling, opting to nuzzle her face against Lovelace's chest.
"Eehh..." The noncommittal noise makes Minkowski stir, and Lovelace quickly continues before Minkowski can pull back enough to allow Lovelace to see the light disapproval on her face. "I don't sleep much. Since..." She trails off, silently drawing Minkowski back into her embrace in lieu of a verbal reply.
"Oh." Minkowski replies dumbly, readily relaxing back into Lovelace's arms. Honestly, even if she were fully awake, her answer probably wouldn't have been much better. "Well, just... try and take it easy. You deserve it. You've done a lot over the past few..." What can she even say? Days? Weeks? Months? "Ever." Is what she settles on, though she can feel sleep pulling at her- she's not even sure if she spoke the words, or just imagined herself saying them.
What she is sure of is the kiss that Lovelace presses to her temple, and the smile in her voice as Minkowski drifts off. "Yeah. I will. You too, Minkowski. You too."