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[mr_gaeta]

"Alone she sleeps in the shirt of man
With my three wishes clutched in her hand..."

Simon finally hooked him up to a morpha -- morphine, whatever it's called here -- drip once the nerve block wore off and the supposedly unidentifiable opioid had left his system. Gaeta's half-drowsing, eyes closed in a vain attempt to sleep outright; the pain's still too great, though, and the exhaustion more prominent.

And if he sleeps, that means he can't do the only thing that's worked so far.

"The first that she be spared the pain
That comes from a dark and laughing rain..."

The words are a little roughened with hoarseness, a touch slurred by morpha -- but his voice still rings clear through the infirmary.



[ooc: for continuity's sake, all threads now take place before Boyd's and Simon's.]

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[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta shakes his head, just once, and casts his glance away. In spite of his best efforts, a tear leaks out the next time he blinks.

"I missed him so much," he whispers.

[wheatencrown]

"What's kept you from each other?"

It worries her that they're not together, not now when its clear they need each other.

[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta anchors himself to that question, trying to grapple himself up back to steadiness. It's just like giving a sitrep. You can do this much.

"I was on a mission," he mumbles. "Um -- a volunteer mission. The Demetrius. It took me off Galactica for two months."

[wheatencrown]

She stays steady, there if he needs to hold onto her,

"That's so long away, but you're together once more?"

[mr_gaeta]

"No."

This won't be as good an anchor as he hoped.

"I haven't seen him since I..."

[wheatencrown]

"Shh, oh child,"

That makes it so much worse and she strokes his hair.

[mr_gaeta]

"I don't know where he is, I don't even know if he knows -- "

His voice twists up and away.

[wheatencrown]

Demeter doesn't say anything, just holds him, stroking his hair and back.

If she could make Louis appear she would, but she's not sure she can do that.

[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta shivers, presses his face against her shoulder -- it makes the cannula pinch a little, but he could not give less of a good godsdamn -- and remains completely silent.

[wheatencrown]

She continues stroking his back and begins to sing an old lullaby in Greek. As long as he needs her, she will be here.