Oh.

what happens if we're separated?

I don't think we can be. She doesn't seem to mind, though that might just be that she's too stunned to really think about it.

...wait.

That's not how this was supposed to be.

They were supposed to be – together, not the same.

He doesn't...want to disappear anymore. There's been a mistake.

She looks again.

It could progress. But we'd have to do something at least that intense to fuel it; it's stable right now. I don't think we need to worry.

He buries his face in her shoulder while she's still someone else no, she said it's fine and tries to stop thinking for a minute.

This is stupid. Isn't this what he always used to want? To be close enough to someone that it'd be impossible to take them apart?

No, he still does want that. But becoming the same as them? Not being able to escape hurting them? It's terrifying.

She holds him tight. It's fine, Love, it's fine. We're still ourselves. And we will be. Here, look.

He looks. He sees their connection.

He sees where they're in love – that's bright, running through the center of everything.

And he sees where they were in pain, the vastness of the space made for their triumph and their suffering, and its emptiness.

...oh.

okay.

There's always the possibility that they'll feel more than that someday – that they'll need more space to hold them – but...he doubts it's going to be an immediate issue.

Yeah.

Love you.

And the pain, well - she's not really worried about it. They need different things, in some ways - she remembers now that they talked about that, once - and this is just another example of that, one she's sure they can find a way to handle. It'll take more than that to scare her off.

love you.

He kisses her.

...we were going to do...that food thing.

Yeah. What time is it, even?

It's the middle of the night, as it turns out; Daisy is long back, and the hospital kitchen is closed, but she has menus from a few all-night restaurants for just this eventuality. She also has instructions to ask if the nurse can come in to check on them, now that they're awake.

He leafs through the menus (awkwardly, one-handed). It's great that Basic is on everything.

"Yeah. I think that'd be okay."

Of the five restaurants, three offer primarily fish - sushi, battered fried fish, and flaked grilled fish wraps with rice and vegetables - one is vegetarian, offering an array of mostly unfamiliar dishes, and the last offers a variety of types of sandwiches on an even wider variety of bread.

I'm not feeling adventurous enough for the veggie place, and I'm not in the mood for fried, either. Sushi or sliders are probably our best bet.

i don’t think i’m tired of sushi yet.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of sushi. It’s food that tastes like something.

Maybe they'll have more of that blue stuff and we can figure out what it is.

The nurse arrives as they're giving Daisy their order, and hangs back by the door until they're done.

He thanks Daisy and turns to the nurse.

(He honestly doesn't intend the weird stare.)

She doesn't do a very good job of hiding her nervousness, but she approaches anyway. "I'm Mrs. Scurlock, your nurse for the evening; Dr. Deyne asked me to check on you. May I?" She gestures with her scanner at Pradnakt.

That's odd. But she nods anyway, and lets her do it.

    "I'll forward these to Dr. Deyne, but I'm not seeing anything concerning. And, may I-?" she turns to him.

He nods, and holds out his left arm just in case.

And she scans him, paying special attention to where his arm joins with the machine. "You're healing well," she nods.

He’s a little disconnected, still, a little wary, but he smiles.

“We’re good at that.”

She nods. "Dr. Deyne will be back in the morning. In the meantime we have protein supplements at the nurses' station if you're still hungry after your meal, just send the droid down."

He resolves never to eat a “protein supplement” for the rest of his mortal life.

“Thanks.”

The nurse recoils a little. "All right, I'll let you rest."

Her relief once she leaves the room is palpable.

i'm not used to this.

He was never really scary. Intimidating when he needed to be, maybe, but not the kind of person who has people rushing to leave the room.

He can't decide whether it's a relief or it's lonely.