Bioware owns all. Shenko.

Shepard was right. He was stubborn.

Slumped in the shower gripping his aching head in his hands, he wished he wasn't. He wished he had taken Dr Chakwas advice and just downed the meds like the Doctor had advised. But no, he just didn't want to waste another day comatose, not with so little time left. The quiet hours after a mission with Shepard were his most precious, and he didn't want to be drugged and asleep for them.

He moaned quietly as the pain gradually intensified. It always started in his L2 implant, then radiated out across his shoulders then up his neck to settle into white hot points at his temples. His head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice and the muscles in his shoulders tightened, the added tension only adding to the discomfort. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to manoeuvre himself under the steaming spray of water in an attempt to get some relief but his movements had to be tiny and slow, lest the agony deepened and caused him to pass out.

Briefly he considered calling out to EDI to summon Dr Chakwas, but he didn't relish the thought of being at the Doctor's mercy while he was completely bare ass naked. He could ask EDI to call Shepard, but she was somewhere else on the ship with more pressing matters relating to the war effort to deal with. He sighed in frustration and clenched a fist. He felt twinges in his stomach and knew instinctively he had pushed it way too far today. He was hungry, exhausted and still not 100% after the beating he took on Mars, and today was a rough mission that pushed his limits to the extreme.

Unable to hold himself upright anymore, he let out a groan and slid down the side of the cubicle, resting his head against the cool metal walls. It was a nice contrast to the steam rising around him from the water that still poured out of the shower head. Through the haze of pain, he realised he should probably turn the water off, but he couldn't seem to lift his arms enough to do so. At this point, it was all he could do to stop his stomach rolling from the agony emanating from his implant.

He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in his world of suffering when he became dimly aware of the water being turned off and cool hands brushing the wet hair away from his forehead. He tried to open his eyes but the harsh light was like stabbing blades in his eye balls. He moaned involuntarily and squeezed them shut, fighting back a surge of nausea at the surge of pain that suddenly assailed him.

The cool hands skimmed over his face to his shoulder and he heard a soft voice speak quietly. He could have wept in relief. Shepard.

Her hands left his skin and he wanted to cry out at their absence, but barely a moment later, he felt a soft white towel wrap around him. He unconsciously winced at the tiny movements but he was able to sit forward enough for the towel to go around him.

He heard Shepard's voice again but couldn't make out her words. He hoped she was alone. He didn't relish the thought of being naked as a babe in front of any other crew. He was simultaneously embarrassed and relieved at her presence.

It got worse before it got better. Shepard helped him stand, murmuring quietly as he moaned out his suffering. His head felt heavy and his stomach protested at every movement. He felt his muscles clench as a wave of nausea overcame him. He bent forward and dry retched into the shower. There was nothing in his system, his biotic metabolism long since devouring whatever substance he had ingested hours ago. Shepard's hands rubbed his back sympathetically and when he eventually stopped trembling, she helped him shuffle down the stairs to the bed. It wasn't far but to him, it might as well have been miles.

He melted into the soft mattress gratefully, sinking down onto the cool white sheets and soft pillows. He was vaguely aware of Shepard moving around him, smoothing the towel down his limbs gently to dry his body. He felt as helpless as a newborn baby but was too deep in his discomfort to care overly much. He felt Shepard press a small object to his neck, a sharp prick, and then he sighed in relief.

The medication swam its way through his blood stream, numbing and dulling the pain as it traveled through the veins in his body. His muscles relaxed almost instantly and his limbs felt heavy and boneless. He could feel the blackness of a drugged sleep trying to claim him, trying to suck him under and instinctively he fought it. It wasn't until he heard Shepard murmur the words, "Hush, let go. I won't leave you," that he surrendered and his world went black.

—
Shepard smoothed back the dark hair of the man lying in her bed. His skin was still damp from the shower and his wet hair curled deliciously around her fingers. As she looked down on him, his face peaceful now thanks to the meds Chakwas had sent her to administer, she was filled with love for him. So typical of him to try and suffer through his migraine alone, but she had known he would become floored by it even when they were in the shuttle. She had seen his eyes screwed shut as it bounced its way through the atmosphere and eventually back into the Normandy shuttle bay. She'd noticed the paleness of his skin and the way he sat apart from the rest of the team, quiet and introspective.

Even though he tried to downplay it, she could see the tightness around his eyes, the pain building as he stepped out of the shuttle and held himself rigid as he stripped out of his armour. He didn't join in the jabs and jokes from Vega and Garrus as they also stripped down and went their separate ways, but she knew this man well. She knew his ticks, his tells. She could read him like a book. She knew he was suffering but also knew better than to make a big deal out of it.

So she let him go without a word, knowing he would find his way back to her, no- their cabin, to rest after the mission. His migraines weren't new but she just hadn't realised how bad this particular one was. They seemed to be more frequent and even more vicious after Mars.

With a soft sigh, she had watched him go and instructed EDI to monitor his vitals. She wasn't surprised when EDI discretely notified her of his distress an hour later. A short stop to Dr Chakwas, where the two women shared a grimace over the stubbornness of men, then she was in the cabin, shutting off the water in the shower and chastising herself for selfishly admiring his naked form while he was in such a helpless state.

Now, with the medication safety administered, he was resting quietly in their bed and no longer in pain. The lights in the cabin were turned down to their lowest setting, and she took the moment to simply gaze at him. She trailed her fingers over his 5'olcock shadow, traced the small scar on his lip, smoothed his dark eyebrows and enjoyed the contrast of his salt and pepper hair against her pale skin. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, careful not to wake him then moved to rise from the bed. As she turned away, his large hand wrapped around her wrist and held her back.

Startled, she peered closely at him, but he was asleep. Even in sleep he was aware of her, and her heart surged a little bit at the realization. After a second's hesitation, she quickly slipped out of her uniform. It had been a long day, and saving the galaxy could wait a few hours. She turned back and eased herself onto the bed, carefully sliding close but taking care not to jostle him. She arranged herself to be pushed close up against his side and draped her bare limbs over him. With one arm, she pulled the sheet up over them both.

"I'm here," she whispered as she planted a kiss to the smooth damp skin of his chest and fell into a dreamless sleep beside him.