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Captain Daniels cannot sleep.
No, Walter amends, observing as her head lolls on Tennessee’s shoulder. Not cannot. Will not.
Not unless exhaustion forces her hand, he’s learned, and there has been plenty of that to go around. Landing on Origae-6 had only been half the battle, after all. It would take years of work to turn the planet an adequate home to their dwindled numbers, and though their foundations had been firmly set, there was still so very much to do.
“Looks like Captain Daniels has reached her limit,” Tennessee quips, though the drink at her feet is only half-emptied. He catches Walter’s eye across the flicker of firelight and gestures to their slumbering captain, careful not to jostle her awake. “Walter, would you mind - ?”
Walter inclines his head in agreement, abandoning his seat by the fire and approaching with nimble footsteps. Daniels fails to wake even as he dips down and lifts her into his arms, her head lolling along his collar before she settles against his chest. Tennessee’s expression softens as he gazes at her wan, tired face, his palm lifting to curl around her forearm for a moment before it drops.
“Make sure she gets some sleep, eh, Walter?” he asks, his usual jovial voice heavy with its own share of exhaustion. There is concern there too, of course, and grief. There will always be grief, Walter expects.
“Of course,” he returns amiably, taking a step beyond the firelight before he stills, glancing over his shoulder and adding, “You should rest as well, when you’re able.”
Tennessee smiles, waving his hand in acknowledgment without offering anything more, and then Walter is off, his feet trodding a familiar path toward the large, silent lake nestled just a few yards beyond the circle of their campfire.
The cabin sits squarely upon its shore, the moons above casting its sturdy wooden walls in muted shades of silver and gray. Its construction had been completed only recently, a joint effort between Daniels, Tennessee, and himself, and though the Captain has taken to spending her nights there, she seldom emerges with the countenance of the well-rested, her shoulders bowed with fatigue and her eyes wreathed in shadow.
Walter studies her sleeping face as he maneuvers her limp body through the front door and into her bedroom, his gaze lingering on the thin, bruised skin beneath her eyes. He wonders why she had not come to him for aid. There were medications he could administer to facilitate sleep, if she were truly struggling. The Covenant had suffered extensive damage from the alien creature’s attack, yes, but their medical stores had not been so depleted as to require strict rationing. They could afford the loss, if it meant their captain remained hale and hearty.
And yet she had refused to seek relief. Walter wonders why, even as he lowers the captain’s body onto her unmade bed and tugs the blankets over her slumbering form. Perhaps she was afraid of what she might find in her dreams. She and Tennessee had both suffered significant mental distress during the remainder of their cryogenic slumber, their dreams rife with loss and terror. Walter could not readily blame her for avoiding what may lie waiting within her dreamscapes.
“Walter?”
The captain blinks open heavy eyes, confusion clouding her expression as she glances about the room. Confusion, and a hint of fear.
“I am here, Captain Daniels,” Walter assures her, curling a bracing hand around her shoulder. Her heart rate has increased, though it calms slowly beneath his touch. “You fell asleep by the fire. I carried you home.”
Daniels sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly through her nose. “Right,” she murmurs, reaching up to rub at her temple. “Right. Home.” She pushes herself into a sitting position, his hand slipping from her shoulder, and murmurs sheepishly, “Sorry for the trouble. Guess I was more beat than I thought, huh?”
“It was no trouble, Captain Daniels,” Walter retorts. “You were in need of rest.” She still is, though Walter doubts the distraction of his presence will allow her to obtain it. “Allow me to take my leave, and - “
“Could you - “ Daniels interrupts, though she hesitates, as though she had spoken without thought, before finishing, “Could you drop the ‘Captain Daniels’ bit, just for a while, Walter? Just while we’re alone?”
After a moment of hesitation on his part, Walter nods. “How would you have me address you then, Cap - ? Hmm.” He breaks off as he realizes his pending mistake, though his brief confusion seems to humor the captain, who laughs and pillows her cheek on her palm, gazing up at him with soft amusement writ across her face.
“Katherine,” she offers, reaching out to offer him her hand. Her face looks brighter in that moment, color sitting high on her cheekbones. “No titles or ranks. Just Katherine.”
Walter nods resolutely, reaching out to fold his palm against hers. His fingers dwarf hers. “Just Katherine, then.”
Katherine smiles, before the warmth of her hand disappears from his and she pushes both palms through her short hair, the strands falling haphazardly over her brow as she blows out a breath.
“I should get up,” she reasons, already pushing herself to do so. “Check on the colonists, our rations, plan for tomorrow - “
“Katherine,” Walter interrupts, both of their eyes drawn to the curl of his fingers over her shoulder. “You require rest.”
Katherine’s lips twitch, eyes widening by a fraction, as though she had not expected Walter to protest. “I’ll rest later, Walter - “
“You will not,” Walter returns knowingly, and though Katherine seems intent on arguing his point, she ultimately seems to think better of it, throat working around a swallow as she settles back against her pillows.
“You’re probably right,” she croaks, fists curling into the crumpled bedsheets pooled in her lap. “I just - “ Her teeth worry at her lower lip, knuckles flaring white as she grips at the fabric between her fingers. “Walter,” she rasps, a desperation in her gaze that speaks of some larger torment. “I can’t - “
“If it would ease your mind,” he interrupts her, eager, somehow, to chase the looming darkness from her eyes. “I could stay by your side through the night. Keep an eye on you.” Chase away her nightmares, if need be.
Katherine’s gaze jumps to his face. “You’d stay?” she asks quietly, and though his confirmation seems to please her, her smile is thin when she asks, “Won’t you be bored?”
Walter smiles. “I’ll survive.”
Katherine huffs out a laugh before her expression softens. “Thank you, Walter.”
Walter dips his head in acknowledgement, moving to take a seat by the window only to be stalled by the sensation of Katherine’s fingers wrapping furtively around his wrist. “Captain - Katherine?”
“Could you - “ Katherine’s tongue darts out to wet her lips, brows furrowing over frustrated eyes. He has seldom seen her struggle to find her words, and remains perfectly still as she does so. “Could you lay with me?” she asks eventually, quickly amending, “Just until I fall asleep?”
It isn’t a request Walter had expected, but as he recalls the sparse moments wherein he has actually seen Katherine succumb to slumber in the past few months - drifting off against Tennessee’s shoulder or tucked against his side at the end of a long day - he supposes it makes sense. Contact - particularly contact from those she deems close to her - seems to soothe her.
“Of course,” he acquiesces, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. “Where would you like me?”
Color seeps into Katherine’s cheeks, a cough catching in her throat before she eases into her side, mutely patting the space behind her.
It takes a moment of jostling before they settle into a comfortable position, Katherine curled on her side and Walter tucked gently against her back, the line of her spine a warm weight against his chest. His arms remain firmly by his sides, but only for a moment before Katherine huffs and reaches out to catch at his wrist, drawing his arm over her waist and curling her fingers through his.
“Is this alright?” she questions, her voice soft. Her heart rate has increased again, her skin warm to the touch. She does not seem to be in distress, however, and so Walter does not fret.
“It is,” he returns, his nose touching the crown of her head.
She sighs, torso swelling and ebbing within the circle of his arms.
“Feel like a goddamn kid,” she murmurs exasperatedly, her fingers fidgeting with his. “Can’t even sleep alone. What kind of captain does that make me?”
Walter gathers her fingers between his and squeezes. “The captain we need,” he answers simply, and Katherine peers over her shoulder at his face, her gaze huge and wet, before she presses his hand to her chest. “Sleep, Katherine,” he urges her, and she nods, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand, before she settles into stillness against his chest.
He waits until he hears the first deep breaths of slumber to settle his brow against the back of Katherine’s shoulder, eyes closed as he monitors her heart rate and vital signs. Her chest heaves gently against his curled fingers, breath whistling softly through her teeth as she begins to snore, and Walter feels his lips twitch as he glances over her shoulder to the stretch of dark, silent lake outside her window.
I loved her, of course. Much as you love Daniels.
It was not often that Walter thought of his predecessor, and even less so that he thought of the words David had spewed. They did not bear thinking about, in truth, and yet they lingered in Walter’s memory regardless.
He had denounced those words then. You know that’s not possible.
Really? David’s voice, soft, cajoling, slithered through his processors. Then why did you sacrifice your hand for her life? What is that if not love?
Duty, Walter had answered, only to be met with David’s pitiable stare, as though he knew better.
The splayed corpse of Elizabeth Shaw flashes through his mind and Walter frowns, tucking his sleeping captain a little more securely against his chest.
Duty or love or some other manner of creature entirely, he would see that she never suffered the same fate.