log: kaidan+hawke WHO: Kaidan Alenko + Garrett Hawke (Bioware boys ftw) WHEN: November 19, morning WHERE: Somewhere in medical, in a relatively quiet area WHAT: Kaidan's headaches caused by his L2 implants are worsening, and he fears that his luck's run out and the common side effects of being an L2 biotic (crippling pain, insanity) are around the corner. He seeks out Hawke for pain relief, as usual, but Hawke's magic is tapped. Hawke can't bear to see Kaidan in that much pain, however, and considers an alternative method. WARNINGS: N/A
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There were things that Kaidan didn't tell Commander Shepard.
He had reasons. It seemed a little unfair for him to spill everything when Shepard was so hesitant to talk about himself. That was how it was — Shepard was a listener, not a talker. Still, it was unbalanced when it came to a partnership, and Kaidan felt like he talked Shepard's ear off anyway. Part of him still thought that he had to be a soldier under him, that he still had to be in fighting shape. So when he was in pain, he didn't complain.
When the headaches got worse, he didn't mention it.
When the pain traveled down his spine and felt like little spikes in his nerves, he didn't bring it up.
When his hand started to twitch and spasm and it threw off the delicately-controlled movements required of a biotic, he didn't say a word.
The spasms came and went, the pain flashed and went away. It was less frequent than the headaches, which were more persistent. It crept up on him, causing him to clench a pencil and not let go, or made his fingers twitch and tingle painfully like tiny needles were being jabbed into his skin. That tingly needle feeling spread mostly across his arm and up between his shoulder blades to the back of his neck.
This was it, wasn't it?
This was the beginning of the end. L2 biotics were all going to suffer eventually. Kaidan had just been lucky longer than most.
He finished washing his face, and when he splashed water on his skin it felt like he was getting hit by a wall of iron spikes. He looked in the mirror, his vision blurred and the light causing his head to throb.
After he got dressed, he kissed Shepard goodbye without a word and went to medical instead of to the law enforcement offices. Pain medication was limited, but Kaidan had Hawke.
It may have surprised people to know that Hawke spent most of his time in medical doing homework. There were dozens of medical textbooks, and Hawke was determined not to be useless without his magic. It meant that he hovered over Simon's shoulder to learn what to do and spent a lot of his downtime with his nose in a book.
Today, he was sitting up in one of the hospital beds and flipping through a cardio textbook, scribbling notes into a pad in his scratchy (but oddly legible) handwriting. They had periods of chaos and quiet here in such a small community, and for this second, it was quiet. Anyone with chronic issues was either back in their own apartment or in a private room. He'd spent some time with Donna Noble, giving her an energy boost even if he couldn't properly heal her, and between that and some routine scrapes and bruises from some of the kids roughhousing, his magic was drained and left him weary. Without lyrium to boost himself, it took hours before he was back up to speed again.
When Kaidan walked in, Hawke eagerly sat up, happy to set boring work aside. "Kaidan. Is it your head again?"
Kaidan nodded, but it was obvious that it was so much more than his head. He seemed genuinely out of it, keeping his eyes lowered and away from the light, keeping his right hand shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. His movements were painful and he carried himself delicately.
"If you have a moment, yeah," he said.
"For you? Always. It's been a long day, but let's see if I can help." Climbing out of the bed, Hawke quietly ushered Kaidan to sit down. "Eyes closed."
He barely touched Kaidan's forehead. Normally, this was when his hands would glow and a warmth would wash away the pain. Now it helped, but only barely, and Hawke grumbled. "Mm. Shit."
Kaidan felt the initial edge of his pain start to ease, but that was it. He frowned slightly and opened one eye. "Shit? Shit, what?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"
"It's me," Hawke said tiredly. "I'm dry. Less Fade to draw on and no lyrium to boost it. I'll be fine in a few hours, but you… probably won't be." He'd been helping Kaidan for long enough to know how habits, and may have been one of the only people who knew how bad Kaidan had it. "Hm."
Kaidan's expression fell. The color was already gone from his face, and the pain caused his right eye to twitch slightly. He wasn't as good at pretending he wasn't in pain anymore, not when he didn't have regular medication. Hawke was usually able to help rid him of the pain temporarily and it kept him off his regimen of pills to keep the headaches away.
"No, no, no," he said, shaking his head. He started to push himself up. "It's fine, Hawke. I'll stop by another time when you're not drained, I'll get, um." He trailed off, pain breaking up his concentration. The lapse caused his heart to skip a beat, a sudden and brief surge of anxiety. The L2s were finally catching up to him. Other people with L2 implants suffered crippling pain, paranoia, insanity. Kaidan had been lucky in that he only got migraines.
"We have painkillers, Kaidan." Though even as he said it, he sounded sorry. The medication was tightly rationed, and the heavy stuff -- the pills that would actually help Kaidan -- was usually reserved for emergencies and bigger injuries. But still: "I can't let you just walk out. That's not fair."
Kaidan's smile was brief. He didn't hold it against Hawke, he already felt like he monopolized Hawke's energy sometimes to begin with. "No, it's not, but I'll push through." He meant it, honestly, but he didn't look like he could push through. This was perhaps the worst that Hawke had ever seen him, and this clearly went beyond a headache.
Hawke sat down next to him on the bed, pensive. He thought it over for a few long moments, worrying his hands and rubbing at his palm. It was cruel to ask Kaidan to leave without giving him help, but they'd had this conversation about the medication before.
Then, finally, he sighed. "All right. I need you to pretend the next ten minutes aren't happening."
Kaidan tipped his head slightly to one side. "Why?" he asked. He glanced briefly over his shoulder (with another stab of pain that shot right down his neck). "What are you going to do in the next ten minutes, Hawke?"
"Nothing you need to tell anyone else about, for my sake." Hawke shifted his weight to the side so he could reach the sheath he kept tucked under his clothes. The knife he drew was dwarven-made, a gift from home that he didn't wave around if he could help it. He rolled up his sleeve.
"This won't hurt," Hawke said quietly. "The opposite, actually." He flinched when the knife bit into the back of his arm, drawing a shallow cut. "Just close your eyes." Setting the knife aside, Hawke let his hand hover over the blood as it welled up on his skin, pulling the magic from it before again reaching for Kaidan's forehead.
This time, the pain retreated faster than usual, its warmth somehow less foreign, more primal.
Kaidan's eyes widened at the sight of the cut, but Hawke was moving to action before he could ask what the hell he'd just done.
The warmth of Hawke's magic flooded over him in a rush, tugging at the painful places. It was less like being bathed in warm light and more like a cleansing fire, searing the pain away until there was nothing left but a faint tingling heat.
It was such a relief that Kaidan almost broke down and wept.
He blinked away tears when he opened his eyes again, staring hard at Hawke. "You said you couldn't do it," he said.
"Not with regular magic." Hawke healed up his arm with a quick swipe of his hand before getting up, heading over to the sink. "Like I said, that didn't happen."
Kaidan felt different. He'd been healed by Hawke before, multiple times over the past several months, but it had never felt like that. It had never felt like the pain was being burned away, and he was never left feeling like he was still pulsing with primal energy. He felt overwhelmed in a way that wasn't normal for him.
"What was that?" he asked. He followed Hawke to the sink, more energy in his step now that he wasn't in debilitating pain. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "What did you do?"
"Kaidan, truly." Hawke looked up, his hands still under the water, his blood making it run pink. He was serious, unnervingly so. "Don't ask. I did nothing. Hopefully I won't have to do nothing again anytime soon. I'm busy, so you should go." And then he looked back down, dismissive, and turned up the heat on the faucet.
Kaidan took a small step back, watching the blood wash down the drain. He'd never seen Hawke so serious, never seen him so unwilling to talk.
He was about to back away when he was struck with a thought, and he asked: "My face is itchy. Is that normal?"
Hawke looked up again, raising his eyebrows. "Is it?"
Kaidan started to touch his cheekbone to explain that yes, it sort of felt itchy. It wasn't painful, but it tingled in a way that he could only describe as itchy, and he felt sort of warm, and he thought it was in a good way, but it was also a little unnerving — but one look from Hawke and Kaidan knew this wasn't the time to ask.
"I'm sure it's nothing," he said carefully. "It's fine."
He cleared his throat and tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "See you around, Hawke." And thank you, but that went unsaid. Hawke, after all, didn't do anything.