Chloe woke to the sound of crying. For a brief moment it sounded like someone was in her room sobbing, but as consciousness reasserted itself, the room was silent and still and she was lying there alone. Confused she toggled the light on and sat up, but the room was empty and the door still closed. She realised it must have been a dream.
She checked her watch, three forty four am. Lying back on the pillow she tried to get back to sleep. Matt had pulled an early shift and they'd elected to be sensible and sleep in their own rooms so she didn't keep him up and he didn't wake her in the morning. Now, in bed on her own, she wasn't sure if she was glad or regretted it. Finally she drifted back into sleep.
She went to the mess hall and had the usual breakfast of some sort of carbohydrate porridge, this version of which appeared to have a slightly toasted popcorn flavour and she suspected it was a different main ingredient to the previous version, which had been made out of some sort of starchy root. She had a bridge shift later in the day, but after putting her bowl back she took herself off to the core interface room to see if she could be useful.
She could hear the voices as she approached.
"We have no working shuttles." Young's voice was raised. "We need food supplies urgently. We need that shuttle to be working again!"
"And I've said I'll get round to it." Rush's voice was quieter. "Put Brody on it."
"Brody has already said he needs your input." A pause. "Are you even listening to me Rush?" Young demanded.
She turned the corner into the room to see Young grab Rush by the arm. At the angle she was standing to them, she couldn't miss the flinch that Rush gave as the other man's fingers closed round his arm. There was a second of delay before Rush responded acidly.
"Colonel, I am working on the shields, without the shields the ship will come apart, I am fully aware of our food situation, but not being vented into space comes first."
Young let him go, a slightly chastened look on his face.
"Well, if you'd just let someone know what you were working on…"
"Yes, yes fine. I'm working on the shields. There are fluctuations."
Young stared at Rush for a moment, then caught sight of Chloe.
"Chloe." He greeted her.
Rush looked up as well.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.
"Yes." Said Rush emphatically, "come and check this."
He gestured to a laptop. Young looked from Rush to Chloe and back again.
"I'll leave you to it."
"You do that Colonel."
Chloe finished the last mouthful and put her spoon down on the table. Rush had just walked in. Matt was still eating and she watched as Rush walked over to the counter, received his bowl of slop and walked over to an untenanted table. The last untenanted table. Chloe watched as further crew members came in, took their bowls and walked out to find a seat and people who had finished eating actually got up and let them have a seat. No-one sat with Rush.
"What do you think of Dr Rush." She asked Matt.
Matt looked up from where he was scraping out the last dregs from his bowl.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, what you think about him personally?"
Matt shrugged.
"The same as the Colonel I guess, he's necessary."
She frowned, her lips pursing a little.
"That's not what I meant." She said. "What do you think of him as a person?"
"He's pretty antisocial." Matt mused, looking over at the man. "He's arrogant. Brilliant I guess, I mean smart. Not much of a people person. Like I said though, he's necessary, we need him to get us home."
Rush stood and Chloe watched as he went to put his bowl back. No less than three people shoved past him, not unusual, but she noticed how each time someone shoved into him he flinched.
"Hey, come on." Matt said, nudging her. "Eli's organising a movie night in the Observation lounge, it's even a chick flick, The Breakfast Club, apparently it a cult chick movie."
Chloe grinned at him. "I might have seen it before." She suggested archly.
Chloe woke gasping into the dark, blue glass and water still swam behind her eyes, her heart was pounding and her breath rushing in terror. The sensation of someone invading her mind, cold hands on her limbs wouldn't fade. She shuddered reflexively, and tried to calm her breathing. Beside her Matt slept on and she didn't want to wake him.
She slid quietly out of bed and pulled on clothes in the almost dark. Leaving her shoes as being too noisy she padded sock footed to the door, left Matt's room and made her way to the mess hall.
She saw him as soon as she stepped in, sitting at a table, nursing a mug of almost tea. He looked up as she walked in and nodded. His eyes were dark shadowed and his face drawn but she didn't expect she looked much better. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down opposite him.
"Nightmares still?" she asked.
He didn't need to answer his face said it all.
"You don't get them so often." He said.
She felt guilty, as if she shouldn't be getting over it if he was still trapped. She reached out and took his hand. He flinched and she frowned, releasing his hand, pulling her hand back.
"I'm sorry." She said.
"What for?" he asked a little brusquely. "At least one of us is getting over it."
She flushed, looking away, face guilty. He sighed and she looked back as he reached out, slowly and with what appeared to be trepidation and took her hand.
"That wasn' a fair statement." He said. "I am glad you're not suffering it so often."
She smiled at him and he ducked his face, she squeezed his hand back and he went to pull it back, then as her thumb rubbed across his knuckles stopped and stared at her hand. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"I hope yours start to fade too." She said.
She saw his cup was empty and took her hand back, there was a faint pressure on her fingers as she did.
"Let me get you another cup." She said.
Chloe spent the next couple of days working on the shields with Rush. Every simulation provided figures and required calculations and she was more than happy to feel useful. She was beginning to get a feel for the shield system itself she thought which was good.
She found herself watching Doctor Rush as they worked together. Eli, Brody, Park and Volker were around, in and out of the room, working with them, working on other things, or coming in just to ask questions. They all orbited around him, alternately nervous, frustrated or irritated. It took her a whole day to notice the exclusion zone round Rush. It was almost as if they were scared to step into his personal space.
She knew he was prickly and difficult but she didn't think he was that scary.
Chloe woke suddenly to the sound of someone crying out in pain. She came awake sitting bolt upright in bed, looking around in the FTL light for the source of the noise. The room was empty. She was wide awake and there was an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Next to her Matt stirred.
"Are you okay?" He asked sleepily.
"Yeah." She said, "Sure, just a bad dream."
She swung her legs around over the edge of the bed.
"I'm going to go get a drink." She told him. "You get some sleep."
He smiled drowsily at her kissed his fingers and pressed them to the back of her hip, the nearest point to him. She smiled back down at him and reached down to pull on her pants.
She almost expected to find Rush in the mess hall but it was empty. Getting herself a cup of tea she walked to the core room thinking to recheck some data from earlier. She was far too restless from the effects of the nightmare to go back to sleep yet. The core room was already occupied though. Rush was sitting at the console, staring at it. She walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.
He jerked free with a yell, spinning towards her. Chloe cried out as hot tea spilled over her hand and splashed on the floor.
"Christ!" Rush said as he took in the spilled tea and the pink mark coming up on her hand. "I'm sorry Chloe."
"Don't worry." She said, I'll go run it under cold water. You take the tea."
His face was apologetic.
"Don't worry." She repeated. She thrust the tea at him. "You drink that, I'll get another."
She went and doused her hand in cold water in the mess. It wasn't a real scald, just a little pink and slightly tender and she soon made herself another tea and walked back.
Rush looked up, eyebrows furrowed as she walked back in. She waved her hand at him.
"It's fine." She said. "Already going back to normal."
"I'm sorry." He said. "You startled me."
"Blue alien nightmares?" she asked him.
He nodded. She reached out and patted his arm. He tensed and then relaxed.
"You too?" he asked.
"I don't know." She admitted. "Some kind of dream woke me but I can't remember it."
He gave her a sympathetic look, then turned back to the console.
"Shall we try that last upgrade again?" she asked.
He nodded. "Better than nightmares." He said.
Stepping up to the console next to him, she nudged him with her shoulder and smiled, leaning into him.
"Wouldn't be hard."
He gave her a sideways look and cracked a smile.
The next day was spent with Matt, their joint official rest day. Matt seemed distracted all day. Chloe wasn't sure what but something was bothering him. Maybe it was the thought of going back via the stones. He had a four day pass to see his family and to see his son, for the first time since they had awoken, he was almost nine now and Chloe knew Matt was acutely aware that he had once again missed a huge chunk of his sons life. Chloe did her best but it wasn't a fun day. Her sleep that night was uninterrupted by dreams but restless and she woke feeling grumpy and irritable. She saw Matt off in the communications room and was polite to Airman De Angelo who he had exchanged with, then decided to go and use up some of her rest day doing Yoga in the Observation Lounge.
She walked out and along the corridor. Rush was walking ahead of her, and she sped up her steps to catch up with him.
"How're you doing?" she asked him as she caught up.
He looked up at her surprised.
"Chloe." He said in recognition. "I'm okay."
"Rush!" It was Greer's voice. "Hey, Doctor Rush, wait up!"
Greer came up behind them at a trot and caught Rush by the shoulder. Chloe was ready for this and she caught the flinch as Greer's hand closed around Rush's shoulder.
"The Colonel wanted to know if you'd had a chance to look at the shuttle diagnostics yet?"
"Why didn't he just radio?" Rush snapped.
Greer looked a little surprised. "I said I'd ask, I was coming past the core room." He said.
Rush sighed.
"You can tell him I've had a look and I'll get back to him later today."
"Thanks." Greer said.
His voice sounded genuine, but it didn't stop Rush pulling away from Greer's hand on his shoulder and as they walked towards the core room Chloe noticed his shoulders were still tense.
"I'm at a loose end." She offered. "Would you like some help?"
He looked at her and his face was unreadable, but he nodded in acceptance and gave a tight lipped smile.
"Alright." He said.
Chloe came awake to the sound of crying. It was distinct and she had the light on before she even knew what was happening. As the lights came up she woke fully and realised once again it was a dream. She checked her watch, it wasn't even one am.
She got up, pulling her trousers on and leaving her room. He wasn't in the mess hall, just Becker, finishing up. The core room was empty, the observation lounge, but some how she knew Rush was...was what? It had to be him. She knew it was him. She hesitated then walked towards his quarters.
She didn't see him on the way and hesitated outside his door. She stared at it for a moment then turned to leave. If he was awake, he'd soon come out and go to the mess hall or core room. A muffled noise stopped her and she turned back to the door. Her hand hovered over the door release and the noise came again. She palmed the door control and the door slid open.
Rush was in bed, asleep but he was tangled in the covers and was thrashing in the grip of a nightmare. She stared at him for a moment, then closed the door and walked over to the bed. His face was contorted as he struggled to free his arms and legs. The tangled covers were twisted round them, but she knew that it wasn't what he saw. She stood over the bed, looking down at him and reached out to push his hair back from his face. His forehead and hair was drenched in sweat face a mask of terror. As her fingers touched his temple he wrenched his head round, one way than the other, turning his face into her hand. Automatically he froze. She stroked the hair back from his face and ran her thumb over his cheekbone.
He moaned still caught in the dream and she ran her fingers over his brow, smoothing back wet hair. His struggles became weaker and the expression on his face began to relax from terror into an expression of total misery, lines drawn deep in his face. She smoothed the hair back from his on the other side as well and he turned into her touch on that side.
What she had been seeing crystallised into clear thought. He had been trapped, isolated, tortured and damaged, every time he slept it replayed. The only contact he received here reinforced that, every grab, every push. She stroked his face and with her free hand began to untangle the blankets, trying not to wake him. She sat herself down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled the blanket from under him, unwrapping it from his arm.
Tears were squeezing from his closed eyes as he began to moan and turn restlessly again and she stroked his face again.
"It's okay," she whispered, "it's okay, it's okay."
She freed his other hand and as it came free ran her hand up his bare arm. He shuddered under her touch. She placed her hand gently against the shoulder nearest her and reached down to work the blanket around his legs loose. Now he wasn't thrashing, just restless it came loose quicker.
She sat there, hand on his shoulder looking at him. He was so thin, she slid her hand across his shoulder and along the sharp outline of his collar bone. Below it she could see every rib down to the point where the blanket covered his chest. She was thin, everyone was thin, but he was gaunt. He shuddered under her touch again and she stroked his face with her other hand.
"It's okay."
His eyes were still wet but he didn't seem to be crying and had settled and she took her hands away, feeling a little uncomfortable to be touching him now.
His eyes slammed open and she jerked back.
He blinked at her, dopey with sleep and fear.
"Chloe?" he said, questioningly, confused.
"Hi." She said.
"What…? Why…?"
She blushed deeply.
"You were having a nightmare." She said.
His eyebrows furrowed. He went to rub his eyes and seemed startled when his hand came away wet.
"You're in my room." He said.
She didn't have an answer for that. He almost looked like he was going to say something sharp, until she reached out to wipe the last of the tears from his face with her thumb. He froze.
"You woke me crying." She said quietly. "You always wake me crying."
His confusion was evident.
"Don't ask me why," she said, not taking her hand from his face, "I don't know. But when…when your dreams get bad…"
He searched her face, looking for the lie, but didn't push her hand away. She stroked down his cheek and ran soft fingers down the side of his neck to skate along his collarbone.
"They hurt you," she didn't need to say who, "over and over again. Pain and fear and fighting to stay sane. And here…." She looked at him, pausing to stroke his skin, "no-one touches you." She said. "They just grab, or push or avoid."
Her hand cupped his shoulder and he froze again. She reached up with her other hand and pushed the last of his hair from his face and at this he reached up and caught her wrist.
"There's no human contact in your life." She said. "Don't you miss it?"
He didn't answer, but his fingers tightened on her wrist. She ran the fingers of her other hand over his shoulder, leaning slightly to skate them down his arm and back over his chest and back to his shoulder.
His eyes closed involuntarily and his shoulders rose minutely up into her touch, before he seemed to steel himself, opened his eyes and pushed the wrist he had hold of away.
"Why are you doing this?" he demanded.
Not moving the hand on his shoulder she looked at him in uncertainly.
"I don't know." She said. "I…"
He turned his face away and went to sit. She pushed him down with the hand on his shoulder and his hand tightened round her wrist again.
"Don't." he said.
She closed her eyes for a second to centre herself, acutely aware of where they were touching, her palm flat on his left shoulder, his fingers wrapped around her left wrist.
"Tell me you don't want this." She said, not opening her eyes, but smoothing her hand over his pectoral muscle and inwards to rest her palm over his solar plexus. "Tell me that you don't need any human comfort."
She opened her eyes. He was staring at her and his fingers were almost painfully tight around her wrist.
"Let me go and I'll leave." She said, running her hand up his chest to cup his face in her hand.
He turned his face into her hand, as it moved over his cheek and she felt his lips brush her palm. His eyes were bright and pained as he looked back at her.
"I can't," he said, "I can't do this."
She pushed against his grip on her wrist and though he didn't let go, it moved with her as she reached to take his face in both hands. She brushed her lips over his.
"It's okay." She whispered.
As if a dam was broken his grip on her wrist suddenly slackened and his arms came up to pull her to him, a murmur of need and want and pain passing his lips. His hands were running over her bare arms, her shoulders, a quiet sort of desperation in his movements. Chloe let him pull her down, pushing the blankets aside and sliding under, He was naked but she wrapped herself around him, rolling into each other, their arms pulling them together and legs tangling to lay in a tight bundle of desperate contact, tense and needy.
She could feel his fingers stroking her hair and her hand was smoothing over his back and slowly, muscles relaxed, tension ebbed and sleep overtook them both.
She woke slowly, warm and relaxed, aware of where she was. He was relaxed but even in sleep hadn't let go and she was laying half on top of him, face tucked into his shoulder, his breath ruffling her hair gently. Her top had rucked up in the night and his skin was hot where it touched her on belly, arms and ankles.
Her hand stroked down his side, over his flank, her fingertips stroking the outside of his thigh until she couldn't reach any further, then back again. She felt him stir as her hand ran back up his ribs. A murmur, his head turning in to hers, mumbling into her hair as he shifted until she settled more comfortably against him.
The thought she had just spent the night with Rush, who was naked, in his bed, tickled the edge of her consciousness, along with the thought that she probably should feel worried or at least guilty, Warmth, sleepy murmurs and the feeling of arms around her seduced her back into sleep though.
When she woke again, he was blinking at her.
"Not a dream." She said.
"No."
She was still tight up against him, his arms were still around her and neither was moving as they stared into each other's faces. She broke the trance, reaching up to trace the crows feet round his eyes with fingertips, more than had been there when they arrived here. His body still felt a little tense, but he turned into her touch again, the movement seeming involuntary, and she ran her thumb over his lips. They moved softly to kiss the pad of her thumb and that was it, as she pulled his head towards her, to kiss him, lips parting and tongue darting out to taste. He relaxed into her grasp and kissed her back so desperately it felt as if he was trying to crawl inside her.
One handed she shoved at the waistband of her pants and pushed them down far enough she could hook a toe around them and push them off with a foot. He didn't seem to notice, kissing her, his hands running over her back and into her hair until she wrapped a bare leg around him and yanked, pulling him up against her bare flesh.
He pulled back, and stared at her. She took the moment to pull her top over her head and throw it behind her, and finally she knew, this was where she was going, where she had always been going, every day since he'd smashed her out of the tank, pulled her terrified into his arms on the floor. Every time they'd talked in the mess hall at night, every avoidant discussion, every time she'd watched him when he wasn't looking, this point in time was where she'd been coming.
She wrapped herself around him again, and she felt his skin hunger, the need for her touch overriding his shock as they kissed again, her breasts pressed against his chest as he held her tightly. It was less foreplay than a need to touch and be touched, hands stroking, massaging, running over skin. His thumbs rubbed over taut nipples, pinching lightly, palms pressing her breasts up so he could taste and suck them into his mouth.
He groaned as she pulled away, sliding down his body, rubbing her torso over his till she could take him in her mouth, hands still gripping his hips, his hands still running through her hair and over her shoulders as he arched up into her mouth. She licked around him, sucked him in, teased him until he reached down and hauled her up his body pulling her over his face to dive his tongue into her, his hands still running desperately over her torso and hips.
She let him bring her close before pulling away, sliding herself down his body so tightly she knew she would leave him damp and pushing against the head of him. She circled her hips to situate him where he needed to be and pushed down. As her hips hit his he reached for her and pulled her down to him. She thought he would thrust up, but he flipped them, rolling her onto her back without escaping her, and covering her.
He slid into her so slowly, their bodies touching from shoulder to ankle, over and over again, circling his hips, an orgy of physical contact, skin to skin, taking what he needed, giving her what she wanted. She came, rocking up into him, clenching around him, but he didn't stop the slow pace, slowing it even further once her contractions settled to gentle her past any over sensitivity before going back to the measured, controlled, desperately slow pace.
Her second orgasm built so slowly, hands on skin, pressure and pleasure and deep desperate kisses. She felt it rise then almost still within her, before with a slight shift he was at a different angle and it washed up over her. His rhythm slipped and he thrust into her as she wrapped her legs up around him to welcome him in deeper and she felt him go after her, crying out, gripping her to him so tight she was sure he would leave bruises.
They collapsed bonelessly together, panting. lean though he was his weight was heavy on her and she shifted. He slid to one side of her and pulled her back into his arms.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Seven forty five." He shifted until they were skin to skin again, shoulder, belly, thighs to ankles. "Don't go yet." He said sliding a hand over her belly and hip. "Not yet."