Chapter Text
Gurathin had only told them he would “look into some options” regarding SecUnit’s lost memories. So when he stumbled back looking manic and ill and saying he “had it,” none of them had quite understood at first. But then he took out his hard wire and handed it to Bharadwaj.
She plugged them in. From SecUnit’s rapidly changing eyes, it was obvious that something was happening.
And then it asked about Sanctuary Moon. Hardly a sensible priority but one uniquely its own. They all broke out in delighted laughter.
"I only did it to mess with the company," Gurathin said with a smirk.
Bharadwaj hugged Gurathin from behind (he would appreciate it whereas SecUnit wouldn’t), then stayed close. He looked wobbly and she wanted to be within arm's reach to catch him if he did a header.
After everything calmed down a little, she asked, "Do you want help showering?"
The answer obviously should be yes, because he both stank and was unsteady on his feet. But it was Gura, so he stared into the distance doing some complicated calculation of his own, perhaps weighing the odds of concussion if he fell in the shower versus the horrors of being assisted by a good friend. Finally he met her eyes and mumbled “yeah.” His gaze then skittered away again, nervous and shy.
"Come on then, I’ll give you a hand."
He removed his upper clothing on his own, but she made him sit before tackling pants. No MedSystem meant his leg was healing slowly. He'd been doing okay before overextending his augments but she didn't trust his balance.
With a little combined effort, they got the pants off. Bharadwaj also stripped off the bandage and checked his leg wound carefully. It looked swollen and felt hot to the touch, but it didn't seem infected, just angry from overuse.
"It looks good. I'll give it a thorough cleaning in the shower."
"I can do it."
She suppressed an eye roll. She'd argue later.
Next they removed his underclothes. Bharadwaj kept her gaze away from his privates, feeling weird and rude about averting her eyes but knowing he would be more comfortable.
She stripped off her own clothing. Gurathin carefully avoided looking at her breasts and her crotch. Since he also wasn't meeting her eyes, this left him limited places to look. A Preservation friend would have either been completely casual or they'd have given her a little compliment. A lingering gaze and a smile, just to show she was worth looking at. But this was Gura and she knew he meant well.
In a rare example of Corporation Rim utilizing good design procedures, the shower had hand grips. Maybe when half the population couldn't get medical care, shower hand-holds were in high demand.
Deity, what a depressing thought. She shook it off and focused on the person in front of her. With one hand on the grip, Gurathin efficiently scrubbed his torso. He shifted his weight to his good leg and reached lower, but Bharadwaj said, "Let me, it's why I'm here."
"It's a little trickier than I expected," he admitted ruefully.
She soaped and rinsed his good leg first. Then the other, working carefully as she cleaned the wound. He hadn't been noisy at any point, but while she worked on his injured leg he went dead silent in a way that made her heart ache.
She stood up. He picked up the shampoo and let go of the hand grip to open it.
"Gura, let me. You're going to need me to wash your hair anyway."
"I can--"
"No concussions allowed," she said firmly.
That got a snorted laugh.
He ducked his head under the water, then pulled back. Bharadwaj gently worked soap into his hair. His breathing grew audible.
Bharadwaj had half expected this. Gurathin responded intensely to touch. Anyone on the team would be glad to fold him into a long hug, but he wouldn't let them. And yet he seemed to crave contact too.
He did better when he could be the one offering, providing something the other person needed. Earlier on the mission when they'd been taking that shuttle ride to who knows where, fleeing DeltFall, she'd been the one to rest her head on his good leg while he remained too agitated to rest. Then he'd let her touch his forehead to check for fever, a defined purpose making it easier for him to lean into her touch.
Here too she had a defined purpose. She guided his head so she could work the water through the strands without drenching his face. He let out a choked sob and tears rolled down his face.
"Sorry, sorry," he gasped.
"Oh Gura, it's fine. The shower is the best place to cry, no one's going to know."
He nodded.
"Physical touch can bring feelings to the surface like this." Cautiously she added, "Some people seek that out. It's therapeutic to release these feelings that it can be hard to voice."
"I... yeah."
She'd have loved to work his scalp over at length. She'd have loved to massage the rest of him too. Press out that tension and press in all the love that Preservation had to offer. But it was best to count this as a success and not push her luck.
She continued rinsing his hair. He shed a few more tears while she worked, then roughly scrubbed his face after she finished. She helped him dress and then he retreated to his bunk.
She thought he might need to withdraw as he sometimes did after even the slightest display of vulnerability, but he looked over at her and his face was warm and open. "That was nice," he said shyly.
"Any time, really."
He fell asleep while the others were still active. That too was new. He was usually the last to drift off, and she'd never been sure if he was keeping watch until they were all safely tucked away or staying awake to guard himself. Maybe neither and he was just a currently exhausted night owl.
And she was fading herself. She was doing well but the worm had left its mark. Thankfully she hadn’t been needed for the most recent meeting. Bharadwaj crawled into the small bunk and drifted off herself.