Notes: I wrote this with more emotion than logic, so I hope it'll make at least some disjointed sense to the rest of you. It's just that going through the Last Ship episodes again, I'm awed at her character, and at the same time she makes me a little sad. As amazing, always together and strong as she is, she is also so alone, and as I marvel at her strength, I also wanted to make her less alone and disconnected from everyone else. X-posted on AOO.

Pairing: Tom Chandler/Rachel Scott (but kinda pre-relationshippy)

Disclaimer: Don't own it :D

Grand Canyon

She was Doctor Rachel Scott. Paleomicrobiologist with two doctorates. She was an orphan. Her mother died when she was nine, and her father refused to acknowledge her existence after she began her ungodly pursuits – that being, her study of medicine in Oxford. She was the creator of the cure that would save the world one day. What's left of it anyway.

Rachel opened her eyes. Her train of thought interrupted, and she was glad for it. Counting off the facts of her life was something that she did to soothe as much as to hurt herself. She never quite could believe the good things, and the bad things seemed so much larger than everything else, and there was always something missing, though she could never really pinpoint what. So she opened her eyes. And prepared to soldier on. As she always had.

The hospital room was empty. She was not surprised. And she had no way of knowing that the Captain had stepped out for the first time that day, and only because the President had called asking for updates on ongoing mission. That that mission was Mike Slattery, Tex and Green each of whom were leading a team of men to sweep through the city as avenging angels on her behalf. That Alisha and Kara, and many others where assisting from communications center. That many more had turned to what they did best – and worked around the clock to fix Nathan James, because it was their home. Her home. That's where they were safe and that's from where they would sweep evil and injustice from this world.

What she knew was what she had always known. That she was alone. And she was fine with that. Really. Hers was a solitary existence, but it was not without its perks. Without.. She had been happy. She was sure of that. Once upon a time.

She grit her teeth and sat up straighter. Her shoulder hurt, but it was a dull, stiff kind of pain that was easy to ignore. Easy to get used to. She reached for the patient's chart and read the doctor's notes. Checked her own vitals and deemed herself well enough. For what? She blinked, unsure where her train of thought was taking her. She surely had missed any planes that she was supposed to have been on. Her schedule was.. likely quite free. And that was an unusual feeling.

Oh, she didn't harbor illusions that once it was learned that she was awake and able to work, that it would change – there was so much to do in the world, but for this single moment, when she was alone in her hospital room. Shot. She was free. She didn't remember when she had last had a moment like this. It almost made her nauseous (though it was far more likely the medicine in her body), the possibility of having nothing to do. It felt like something vast and unfillable, like the Grand Canyon.

And she wanted to hold on to it. For just a moment. To take a pause. To take a breath. Oh, god, she felt like she was choking. Like there was no air in the room. She pulled IV needle out of her arm and struggled to get out of her bed. She needed to open a window. At least a window.

She thought she was remarkably steady on her feet, considering. But the window opened only a crack, and it was not enough. What harm could it do? She was a doctor therefore she knew that she was well enough. And all she wanted to do was breathe. Just for a minute. Just.. a little. It wasn't hard to find some slippers and a doctor's coat, abandoned on a side of a chair on her way. It was easy to be unnoticed even if she wasn't really trying to be.

The doors to the rooftop opened easily and it was a gust of wind the greeted her: playfully twisting her hair, pressing her coattails against her legs, entwining her in a chilly, airy hug. She went to the very edge. And she never meant to get on the ledge. But she did.

GCGCGC

"I'm not going to jump," the wind caressed her face, a breeze gently pulled her hair away from her face. She didn't look back. She didn't have to. Somehow, she always knew when he was in the room. In vicinity. This isn't exactly a room, is it? She had no idea how long she had been standing there. It might have been quite a while, but the light wasn't any different – the day was still young.

"That is good to know," his voice was steady. As always. She smiled just hearing that tone – it was like he was saying without words that everything was alright. That everything would always be alright. "All the same, I'd prefer it if you climbed down."

"Oh, just a minute more, Captain," she said softly in an exhale, the shadow of a smile curled the corners of her lips. "I need to breathe," she explained, though the words were quiet – it was more of a confession to herself than to him, but she didn't doubt that he had heard. He had the ears of a fox.

"Air is pretty fresh on this side too," his voice was so close. She felt like she could spread her arms and let herself fall backwards, knowing that he would catch her. But she stood steady. She was far too strong and far too smart for such foolishness. Though it was tempting. To fall. Just once. To see how it worked out. To let someone else catch her, slow her down, just a little bit, just so that for a moment someone else would take care of her. What was it that Niels had said to her? That she was an unstoppable force in search of an immovable object.

"Please.." there was a tremble in his voice, that she didn't hear.

"I let him touch me, you know," she said a moment later as if picking up a thread of a long lost conversation. "Niels. I made him think I.. admired him. Liked him..," she could keep disgust from shaping her words. "A man who killed the world..," she laughed, without joy. "And I.."

"Rachel, please.." she was facing the abyss in front of her, she had no way of seeing the effect of her words on the captain. How her words scared him. How her lifeless tone straight down terrified him. How he kept inching closer to her. How he gritted his teeth hard enough to hear, just so he could keep his tone steady whenever he opened his mouth. How his heart was racing a mile a minute as if he was in combat. How his face was pale and drawn, and shadows of unslept nights gathered underneath his eyes. "Rachel, come down, please," there was tension in his voice that she did not hear.

But her name on his lips did startle her. Rachel's eyes flew open and she realized where she was. What she was doing. The elusive freedom she had sought slipped through her fingers like a dream upon waking and reality came crashing in on all her senses. Heaviness settled in her chest cavity and air once again felt heavy as if filled with ashes and soot. A headache came on suddenly, slapping her with dizzying strength, and her shoulder was a burning point on a map where the rest of her body was a wasteland. Just drifting.

But she was strong. Therefore she resolved to turn and step off the ledge, back on the roof. Say whatever she had to say to convince the Captain that this was just an innocent episode. A little strange it may be, but nothing alarming. But her body, that had not failed her for so long, just couldn't go on any more. Dizziness gripped her as she turned sharply and those were someone else's strong hands on her hips that pulled her to safety.

"Rachel, Rachel," he shook her lightly as soon as her feet touched the ground, still holding tightly. "What the hell are you doing?" she did hear the anger.

"Nothing, nothing," she murmured, blinking hard to get her eyes to cooperate, her world to stop spinning. Anything to just keep being the woman he saw her as. Rachel Scott. The doctor who created the cure. The doctor who saved the world. The doctor who worked twenty hours a day. Who didn't sleep, eat or drink enough. One who was strong. One who hadn't stopped running in months, years. Just.. Running from what? She was exhausted.

"You're exhausted," he said, and before she knew it, he had picked her up. As easy as if she were a leaf floating off of a tree. Just a sparkle of dust in the wind. Inconsequential. She laid her head on his shoulder and wished away everything she had in the world to be able to push him away and stand on her own. To tell him that she was okay. That everything was alright. But her lips wouldn't cooperate.

"You need rest," he said in a soft, reassuring tone. But it was as if he said that more to himself. "You're going to be alright. Just fine."

She sighed. Even if she wanted, she could find no words to start explaining why that wouldn't work. So she just let him carry her back. Back to every other day of her life and a Grand Canyon's worth of duties.

GCGCGC

He laid her down on the bed. Helped her get under the covers and then settled in a chair next to the bed. She wanted to tell him that he really didn't have to stay. She wanted to tell him that it was highly unlikely that she could fall asleep under that watchful gaze of his. She wanted to tell him so many things, ask about the crew, but her eyelids were heavy and somewhere between one thought and the next she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, light outside was different and he was still sitting in that chair. To be honest, she wasn't sure he had even moved. "What are you still doing here?" her mouth was dry and the question was more accusing that she had intended. She was merely... curious by now. The same million things that pulled her into every direction also pulled at him. They had no time to waste by sitting at people's bedsides.

He went over the small table by windowsill and poured some water in a paper cup from a plastic bottle. "Watching over you," he replied, handing her the water. His tone was matter-of-fact, as if it wasn't anything to marvel at. As if his presence was naturally expected and required here.

"We're not on your ship," she remarked softly before sipping some of the water. "I'm not your responsibility anymore."

"Is that what you think?" he frowned, "That I'm here just because I feel responsible?"

Rachel froze mid-sip. That was what she thought. She avoided having to answer by continuing to drink slowly.

"I do feel responsible," he said when no answer from her was forthcoming. "But that is not why I'm here," he finished forcefully, before visibly gathering himself to speak much softer, "Rachel.. What is going on?"

"Nothing," she replied. There was no more water in her cup. "I'm fine."

"People don't climb on ledges just for nothing," he was calm, his tone was patient. It was as if he had put aside any personal reaction to that, and was just here for her. For anything she might want to say.

"Oh, that…" she ought to have known that he would not just let it go. Now more than ever she regretted her foolish actions, but at the time, she was.. suffocating and all she needed was a fresh breath of air. "It was just an odd moment. The medicine.."

"Don't lie to me," for a moment his calm mask slipped.

"Captain.." Rachel began, thinking quickly, grasping for anything to say to pacify him.

"You said to me, you promised, when all this was just starting that you would always be straight with me. Don't start going back on your word now," he reminded her, he pleaded with her. That day when he had failed to trust her and ordered a ship-wide quarantine, she had promised to always be true, no matter what is was that she had to say.

She exhaled heavily, indecisively, "It really was just.. an odd moment. I don't know what to say."

She didn't even know what to feel. When she woke up, for that moment then, she had felt so alone. And so small and insignificant in the face of all that was to be done yet. So powerless and.. Like nothing she did was ever enough. How could she begin to explain that? That she couldn't give up even if she might want to at times. That she really wouldn't, and therefore he had nothing to worry about. But at the same time – she could no longer figure out where to get her strength from. She was exhausted and didn't know how to stop, how to ask for help.

"Just talk. Talk to me, Rachel. You can tell me anything."

"Anything?" she asked as if she didn't believe him. She almost wanted him to take back his words, because she didn't think she could continue resisting if he kept being so.. encouraging, understanding and patient.

"Anything," he was steadfast. As always.

She sighed. It was a sad breath as her walls crumbled and she struggled to find words with which to start. "I miss them," she finally said. "My grandparents," she elaborated a moment later.

"My mother was so in love with my father that she went with him when he wanted to spread his religion to remote regions. She left everything. Turned her back on her family. And in the end paid for it with her life, because my father's beliefs were that God, not a vaccine would cure my mother of malaria," she could guess that the basic facts of this might be on her file, but it seemed important to share this with him in her own words, because that was her origin, one that had shaped her for the rest of her life.

"It was then that I decided to study medicine, to devote my life to it. And when I left my father for University, he cast me out. And when I came to England.. Curiosity overtook me. I found that my mother still had family left. It wasn't an easy decision to decide to contact them. I wasn't even sure if they knew of me, if they knew that my mother was dead, but.. It was the best decision that I made, because it turned out better than I could have hoped for," and finally a smile lit up her face for a short moment.

"I mean.. I was an adult. I had a scholarship, I could take care of myself, but to them, I was their granddaughter. They just.. loved me. And supported me. I came out of nowhere, and they wanted me anyway," she looked at him, imploring him to understand the things that she meant to say, but couldn't find space for. That when she had told Quincy that he had no idea what she'd lost – she wasn't exaggerating, and she didn't mean her short-time boyfriend, the journalist.

Tom grasped her hand.

"They must be dead now. I couldn't.. warn them. Save them," before she'd left for Arctic, the virus hadn't reached Europe yet. And once she was there – her secure communication was to the White House. Just as she couldn't tell the crew and they couldn't warn their families – she couldn't warn hers.

"I let them down," and wasn't that an irony? Her father let her mother die, because of prejudice against medicine, and she let her grandparents die, because she believed in finding a cure.

It was as if the floodgates were open. She kept on talking. Holding tight onto the Captain's hand.

"To tell the truth, I probably let them down long before that.. I went from university to university from research project, to research project as if I could wipe every virus from the world. I.. kept chasing something, I don't know what, and I couldn't stop. I still can't. I..," she wished she could express her feelings as eloquently as she described her research in scientific publications. What she meant was that though she had found a family, she had still left them. So how did that make her deserving of them?

"Don't you see? I may have found the right combination of elements for the cure, but given the resources and time – any doctor could have done it. I ran so fast, and I fought so hard, and I don't even know.." why? Niels' arrogance was in assuming that his DNA would save the human race, and in doing so he had murdered it nearly to extinction. But wasn't she just as arrogant?

"It's not your fault," Tom said when she stopped speaking. "Rachel, listen to me. Whatever happened to your grandparents is not your fault. What happened to your mother is not your fault. And nobody else could have done what you did. No one else even tried. There is no one else like you."

She listened, but she wasn't hearing him. "So that's that I suppose," that's what's going on with her. That's what's wrong with her. She felt lost. Utterly lost.

"Rachel.. What I said that day, is still true," he said softly, and the expression on his face was as if she was breaking his heart.

She frowned, but their hands were still clasped. "What day?" The day he said she put blood on his hands?

"The day you promised not to lie to me."

She shook her head lightly. They had said many things then, and one of the most prominent on her mind was the discussion about the vaccine that wasn't working.

He took a fortifying breath. "I said that I did it for you. Risked everything for you, even when I didn't know you at all. It was true then, and it is true today, though I do know you now, Rachel. Can't you see? It isn't that I was just stuck with you and there was a world to save. Saving the world is a very abstract concept. At that time.. The world was broken. There was no power holding me to anything, but you. You asked me to save the world, and all of it – was for you. It's a strange hold you have over me. Over my people and, I daresay, over anyone who gets to meet you. So you don't get to say that anyone could have been in your place. Because then.. It just might as well have been the end," he would have taken his crew home, to find their families. They'd all eventually be infected and dead.

"Captain.." she wanted to say that she knew him to be a better man than that. That she knew he would have done the right thing regardless of who was in her place, because of the principle of the argument.

"There's still a world to save, Rachel. And, God knows, it won't be easy, and there's a ... A Grand Canyon's worth of things to do, but you're not alone. And you're important, to everyone, and to me, especially. So talk to me. Don't keep things in. Come to me and if nothing else – I'll just listen. I've always believed in you, after all."

"I don't know how to stop," running, she admitted. She didn't know how to take a pause, to rest.

"And I would never make you stop, but just for a moment, I need you to trust me like I trust you. Let me take care of you," let me be there for you and, please, believe me when I say it. There were so many more things he wanted to add to that, but she wasn't ready to hear them, and he wasn't ready to say them.

And after an infinitely long moment, she agreed, "Alright."

When an unstoppable force meets an immovable object – the force doesn't stop, and the object doesn't move. But there is a moment, a quantum moment like the riddle of Schrodinger's cat where the force is still moving and the object is still, and they're one and the same. Together.