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“Turians don’t nap,” Vetra had told Ryder earlier that week, though she wasn’t really an expert on what “turians” did and didn’t do. It seemed easier, more playful than: I don’t nap. Never had the time. Never had the space. Never had a break from responsibility.
“Well, humans do,” Ryder had replied, and Vetra had responded with an affectionate flick of her mandibles.
“Enjoy your nap, Ryder.”
Ryder had sighed and made her way to her quarters, and Vetra had busied herself browsing parts requests until the dinner call came, and Ryder’s hair had been adorably ruffled when she took the seat across from her.
“Enjoy your nap?”
“It was alright.”
She seemed dissatisfied, and Vetra let out a sympathetic hum. That has been Wednesday.
Today, they had taken a beating. Kett platoon after kett platoon on Voeld had marked the end of a three day stint in a blizzard, and Vetra wasn’t sure she’d ever been quite so relieved to return to the Tempest. As they left the atmosphere and shook out their armor in the cargo bay, Ryder came to hover close.
“I’m going to take a nap,” she said, and Vetra looked up from where she’d been unclasping her boots.
“Have fun.”
Ryder hesitated for a moment before nodding and taking her exit down the hall. Vetra wondered if she’d said something wrong. Hanging her thawing armor near an air vent, she nodded to Jaal before returning to her room. She took a seat at her desk, rocking back in her chair. There was a little crackle over her comm line.
“Vetra?”
Vetra perked up.
“Yeah?”
“Would you come nap with me?”
Turians don’t nap— she almost protested on instinct, but she shook her head because the thought made her feel a little silly, fee a little warm.
“Yeah. Yes. Of course.”
She walked with purpose to Ryder’s room, pace bordering on a jog, and when the doors slid open she found Ryder smiling on the bed, half-shadowed in the dim light.
“You don’t have to sleep,” Ryder told her softly as the doors closed behind her. “I just want— Would you hold me?”
“Of course, Ryder,” Vetra managed over the sudden lump in her throat. “Of course.”
Ryder was stripped down to her pajamas: a long sleeved shirt and fuzzy pants. Maybe she was still chilled from the mission. She seemed so soft like this…vulnerable, where she was always so strong. She scooted back in the bed, patting the space beside her, and Vetra set her visor on the bedside table before climbing in.
“It’s a little short for you,” Ryder commented, and she wasn’t wrong—if Vetra stretched out, her feet would hang off the end.
“It’s perfect,” she said, though, because Ryder was there. “Come here.”
Ryder snuggled close with a contented sigh, resting her head against Vetra’s chest, and Vetra let a talon glide through Ryder’s hair.
“S’nice,” Ryder mumbled. “Thank you.”
This was better than any requisition list.
Sometimes, Vetra wondered how Ryder kept going, bouncing back again and again, always cheerful, always on her game. Maybe it was in the moments like this. Maybe it was in jokes with her brother in the med bay, and in sweet soaps from Aya, and in the blanket from home she kept on her bed.
Maybe, Vetra was starting to realize, she was part of it too--these moments together: talking, laughing, laying in her bed. ( And maybe , a voice that sounded suspiciously like Ryder’s whispered, you, Vetra, deserve this too .)
Ryder hummed like she knew what Vetra was thinking, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her tight. Vetra hummed back, low and thick with subharmonics. Purring, Ryder had called it once, which had made Sid laugh and show her a vid of a cat. Ryder smiled softly, eyes falling shut, and before long her breathing evened and her body relaxed. Vetra kept an arm around her, staring up at the ceiling.
Class A water filters, timing belt for a Mako, new boots for Sid.
Ryder was so soft. Vetra could feel her heartbeat through her chest, alien and growingly comforting. She finally felt warm after their stint on Voeld.
She felt safe.
She shut her eyes. She decided to try. She nuzzled Ryder’s hair, curling around her as she sank into the pillows. She took a deep breath.
She awoke later to Ryder watching her, a soft, sleepy look on her sweet, round face. Vetra sighed, and Ryder stretched, extracting her arm from between them.
“You napped,” she said, voice hoarse.
“I did,” Vetra admitted, and her mandibles flicked out at Ryder’s pleased smile.
“I hoped you would. You needed it.”
“Ryder….”
“It’s okay to take a break, you know.” With one finger, she traced a winding path down Vetra’s chest. “It’s good to take a break. The world won’t fall apart because you took care of yourself for an hour.”
There was a time, when she was younger, when that assertion would almost have hurt.
“Thank you,” she whispered now, because she didn’t quite know what else to say.
“I’ll help you,” Ryder murmured, taking her hand. “Part of what I’m here for, you know.” Her thumb smoothed across Vetra’s, little five-fingered hand holding hers tight.
“I love you,” Vetra whispered. It hung heavy for a moment. It scared her. She held her breath.
“I love you, too,” Ryder responded, like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Vetra squeezed. Ryder snuggled back close.
“Thank you for napping with me.”
“Anytime,” she murmured. “Anything.”
“You, too, Vetra. Anytime you need me. Anything. Anywhere.”
“Okay,” Vetra whispered. “I believe you.”
She realized that she actually meant it.
“Good.” Ryder’s eyes met hers.
“Good,” she echoed, almost breathless. “Yes.”