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English
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Published:
2013-08-03
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762
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1/1
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Scars

Summary:

Some mornings Raleigh's scars give him a lot of grief, and Mako takes care of him because that's what copilots do.

Notes:

I feel like this is the fluffiest thing I've ever written and I really like it idec

Work Text:

He remembered right after Alaska, when he would wake up with his left arm cramped and clenched so tight he could see the individual tendons standing out beneath the skin like they were ready to snap, when the scar tissue burned red and leaked pus and he’d have to run ice-cold water over it in the tiny hotel bathroom he had found himself in.

He missed that. He missed that a lot.

Especially in times like this, where he woke up screaming in agony as his whole right half seized up, his knuckles white and his kneecap feeling like it was shattering.

"It’s okay," Mako whispered as she gently wiped a cool, wet rag over his skin. His jaw was clenched so hard all he could do was whine. “You’re okay. I’ve got you."

(no right arm and our right leg is crippled we can do this hang on mako)

"I’ll go get your pills, I’ll be right back," she said. The pills were kept in the kitchen so he didn’t take too many in the night. That had happened exactly one time, and Mako was very adamant about it never happening again.

"Don’t leave me," he practically sobbed.

She leaned over him, pressing her cool nose against the side of his neck, and he could feel her even breathing and the gentle double-thump of her heart against his chest. He turned to breathe in the familiar smell of her hair. “You’re okay, I’ll be right back. I’ll be back."

She stood up slowly, smoothing back his sweat-slick hair and bumping her forehead against his. “I’ll be right back."

And then she was gone, and his ankle felt like it was twisting off, and he could see the light scars on her arm too, they matched his in shape and size but not severity and she hated that, he knew she did and his calf was clenched and burning, she hated that he was hurting worse than she was but he was glad because he couldn’t deal with it if she had to handle the horrible ripping agony in his thigh—

"Shh, shh," she said, returning to her perch at the edge of the bed. She helped him sit up so he wouldn’t choke on his water, which she held up to his lips. Then she fed him those horrible fish-tasting horsepills, weird aspirin-glucosamine mixtures that had been developed specifically for jaeger pilots with injuries like this. He choked them down and greedily drank the rest of the water, and when he was done he leaned back against the headboard, shuddering. Mako set the glass down on the bookshelf that served as a bedside table.

"Give it a few minutes," she said as she began rubbing gentle circles against his arm, working the tension out. “You’ll be fine."

"Thank you," he said.

"Shh." She pressed her thumb into the crook of his elbow, and he sighed at the soothing pressure. “I will talk to the doctors about your dosage. You should never have to wake up with it that bad. Once the medications kick in I want you to go back to sleep and I’ll call them myself."

"Don’t wanna sleep," he muttered. He was glad for her talking though — the inane chatter was soothing, and if they talked fast enough it was almost a bit like drifting. She understood, because she kept talking rather than dropping the subject.

"Then you can sit at the kitchen table and listen to me yell at people on the phone. You like that."

"You just get this little—" He scrunched his nose and pursed his lips a bit. "—look when you yell at doctors. It’s great."

She smiled and carefully rotated his wrist. “Whatever. I do not."

"Yeah-huh. Can we watch more of that cartoon when you’re done on the phone?"

"It’s an anime, Raleigh."

"Whatever."

"And it’s called Sailor Moon."

"Yeah, that one."

She laughed at him, shrugging her shoulders. “If you want. I don’t even remember which episode we’re on."

"Thirty-two."

"You can remember that?"

"Uh, duh. Of course I remember. That cartoon’s great."

"Anime."

"Whatever." His leg felt like it could move without snapping in half, and he gently pulled his arm out of her grasp. She stood up and helped him swing his legs over, then pulled him upright, catching him when he stumbled. She walked with him out into the kitchen, and sat him down, fussing a bit over his scars.

She scolded the doctors for a whole half-hour, and Raleigh was totally right about the look on her face.