Being the Sherlockian I am, I simply HAD to go see STiD for my boy Benny. Oh man. It was worth it. I was squeeing from the first sound of his voice.
Anyway, I decided he couldn't be lonely and took it upon myself to write this. I do love Khan, now. And besides, I couldn't leave such a crucial thing as Khan smiling go to nothing. So here it is!
I've edited a bit as I've gone along, but per usual it's not been scoured and perfected. Too bad.
Most of the security team either stared at him looking away quickly when he raised his eyebrows and smiled, or shuffled past, finding something quite intriguing with the floor. Most of them.
She didn't. She never had.
It had been three weeks since the issue over Kronos... Marcus betraying him, Kirk dashing off to save the day, the Scot and the wimp repairing whatever damage had been done to the Enterprise best as they could. Now they were on their way back to Earth, to Starfleet Command, where he would await his trial. Hopefully his cooperation in stopping the madman would be... appreciated. Not to mention his determination to protect his family.
It was a fairly boring at first, sitting alone with no one to talk to. Well, Kirk and the other creature, though that hadn't lasted long. Then the mission. He had tried to take a hold of the situation and had been shot seventeen times with a phaser. It was enough to slow even him down to the point of containment. Again. And a longer one this time; they'd been unable to gain full access to the warp engines and were now floating along like children in a lake, drifting slowly back toward their base. If no other star ship was to come to their rescue, he had full confidence in his ability to rectify the situation, even cuffed and restrained, but the captain was not to be swayed.
How annoying.
He was set on the fact that he would stay annoyed. These peasants didn't deserve much more than that, especially after all he had done to help them. Granted, he had bombed their silly little meeting, but that was merely a few lives lost in order for seventy two to not die. It made perfect sense to him.
A thought drifted in, causing him to consider rethinking that part. She wouldn't have liked it.
But nevermind
"Khan?"
Well, forego the nevermind. The object of his musing was now before him, and she was holding something.
She had brought him something to eat, and likewise to the first few times she attempted a weak reason for it not coming sooner. Not that he needed much, but the least they could do was attempt to take care of him... but the ship was damaged, and there were injuries to the crew that had to be managed...
He blinked, once, knowing his eyes were saying everything.
She huffed out a breath, rolling her eyes before allowing an amused smile. Of course he knew better, and so she apologized. They were terrified of him, she added, her brows knitting together and the smile falling.
He wished it hadn't. He rather liked to see her sm-
His attention turned to the silver key as she swung it towards him, then pulled it apart, almost carelessly. One time, during their exile near Kronos, the nasty lieutenant had caught her and seen how wide she had made the gap. It had been four days before she had returned, and then she had been cautious for a while.
She still wasn't as free around him as she had been before. It almost bothered him, but he crushed the notion. She could do as she pleased.
"Khan?"
Twice now she'd had to gain his attention. His eyes flicked up, and then he reached through. No doubt she expected him to grasp the plate, but instead he slid his hands over hers.
Her eyes widened, and they stared into his. It almost made him uncomfortable... almost.
He drew his grasp away and settled it on the tray, tugging it from her hands, almost wishing she would say something else. Sometimes she would, sometimes she wouldn't. It depended on how much work needed to be done. But right now, he wouldn't mind if she stayed and talked. He might even find it in him to respond, what with that look in her eyes he couldn't comprehend. Perhaps he would be able to draw it out of her...
He heard the footsteps before she did, but when she did she cleared her throat, slamming the shield together and slinging the knob to the side. He allowed himself a small smile when she jumped over to the computer, mumbling something about the electronics of it when another one of the tech-heads meandered through. The man paused beside her, laying a hand on her back and pointing at something on the screen with the other.
It bothered him. Shouldn't, but it did.
She glanced up, smiled, and said something else. The man then responded, but instead of walking away he let his hand trail around towards her hip.
He froze, then, his senses going on overload. He couldn't believe she was letting that piece of filth rake his dirty little hands all over her-
She twisted away then, her smiling now ill-fitting and tight, very unfriendly. She backed away, too. Unfortunately, the idiot couldn't take the hint. He followed her, seemingly unaware of the stormcloud seething in the prison behind the couple. If only he had away to unleash some of the lightning.
If she hadn't removed the stupid thing, he would have been able to reach out and stroke his fingers through her hair, she was so close. Maybe he should listen to what she was saying. Whatever it was, it wasn't working.
She wanted the man to leave, so he said so. Nevermind his threatening stance was lessened by the food still being clutched. If he needed to scare the man he could always shatter it.
The man looked over her shoulder, as did she. Her eyes were bright, and she gave an imperceptible shake of her head to him. Well, of course he saw it. The puny human couldn't, but he could. Not that he was going to listen, anyway.
The man smirked. Apparently it wasn't any of his business. He then proceeded to rattle off several supposed rude names and words, but he didn't may the idiot any mind. She looked almost amused now, the previous worry faded. Why had that been there anyway?
"If you feel that makes you more the man, then you are mistaken."
He blustered and fumed, and she finally shooed him away.
He sat down then, studying the remains of whatever it was that was on his plate before looking up and arching an eyebrow.
Her cheeks glowed pink, and she shrugged, her tone sheepish and repentive. It was all she had been given, once its destination had been learned of. But she would attempt to get him something better. She smiled then, though it was forced; they both knew what would really happen.
He still pointed it out, making sure to do so in a way she would know he didn't mind.
She sighed and stood up, throwing one last remark over her shoulder. They should. And that he should try not to die from food poisoning; Heaven knows what exactly was in the dish.
He smiled then, and when hers returned in full he knew it had been worth it.
The next few days their routine continued, slightly altered as it had been that day. She would bring food, and they would talk. If you could call it that. Three, maybe four sentences would pass between them. Perhaps a smile.
The one day she brought a chair, and even left a gap in the shield open so they could say their few lines without the blasted echo. He knew he should exploit her trust, break free and wreak havoc like the criminal he was supposed to be, but he couldn't bring himself to. Marcus was dead. His crew were all alive. What more could he want? To stay alive, of course, but the odds of anyone forever cheating death were always slim.
The thought surprised him. He cared, of course, but not enough to hurt the woman before him. She respected him. Asked him questions, few of which he answered. But still. At least she tried. He could never hurt her, even if her somewhat incessant blither gave him a headache. Sensitive ears, you know, even though his surperhuman body healed itself quickly it remained a complex of trickery. Head aches were one of the few things that actually bothered him.
He knew they were close to earth now. They had to be, if they were not in orbit already. Apparently they had made a slight detour earlier in the trip... 'detour' being the word the captain used. The pointy-eared thing had been against it, but her retelling of the tale and the few conversations had earned her more than one smile. It had been somewhat humorous.
Ah, but there his thoughts went, taking him off again. It was, unfortunately, one of the few things he could do to pass the time. Of course he enjoyed listening to her talk, but she had been going for longer than usual and he felt the need to tune her out before his head exploded. What was she even going on about?
Icaraans and pink jumpsuits dazzling with chocolate?
What?
Then she laughed, her eyes dancing merrily as she tried to control herself before apologizing. She had known his mind had wandered off and had decided to take advantage of his lapse in concentration.
He shrugged slightly, then allowed a small smile. Not that she wasn't intriguing; a headache was all it was.
She shook her head. He already knew he could ask her to stop, but she insisted on repeating the lecture.
He shrugged again, staring down at her.
She met his bold gaze steadily, ever-so unlike the rest of the crew. And she smiled at him. Freely. Laughed at him. Usually. Talked with, or to him... always. And he appreciated it.
Leaning down, he reached to place his hands on the shield where she could see them, determined to understand the one thing that had been bothering him: why she was here.
She pretended to be confused.
He repeated the question.
Her features had shut down, and her voice had gone to the irritating monotone used by Star Fleet commanders. She had nailed that bit of her training perfectly, insisting she had no idea of what he was talking.
It still didn't mask the emotion he so easily read in his eyes.
"Why do you trust me?"
Her stammering words furthered his design.
She gasped, then, as his hands snaked through the gap and wrapped around her throat. He was fast, after all.
He nearly growled, pulling her forward. Her life was forfeit in his hands.
Her eyes were wide, but she breathed steadily, flinching only when he gave a light squeeze. She murmured affirmatively, glancing nervously down at his hands before meeting his gaze again.
"Then why?" He tightenend his grip more noticeably, easing closer himself. So very close.
"I-"
He kissed her. He knew it was wrong, but he had never been one for logic anyway.
She was staring at him, mouth agape when he leaned back slightly to peer down at her. He now cradled her face instead of her neck, his hands gently holding as opposed to nearly strangling her.
"Well?"
Instead of answering, she reached up and lightly finger-combed some hair back into place. A blush darkened her cheeks, and she muttered under her breath. Of course he already knew the answer to 'why'.
He smiled then. A real, full smile that earned him one in return. And then he kissed her again.
It settled into a new pattern. He wondered sometimes if he should be concerned about why it was taking such a long time to reach his death, but there were more pleasant topics at hand to focus on... such as her fingers gliding down his cheek and the silky strands of her hair he stroked when he braved another caress.
The thought of a security camera never occurred to him, and as he was preoccupied neither he nor the lady were aware of the fuming idiot coming up behind them. She was wrenched from his grasp, and the gateway back to her was slammed shut. Almost. But his attention turned as she cried out, reached up to swat at the hand pulling harshly on her hair.
She shouted then, her eyes snapping anger as she kicked backwards.
The assailant spun her around then, shouting obscenities and perverse references.
It merely took several heartbeats before he realized the man was comparing himself to him. To Khan. As if he could ever measure up. He couldn't even stand the insults she threw back at him, running a hand her through hair to straighten it out. She was ranting on about Kirk when the idiot grabbed her by the shoulders and claimed a kiss of his own.
He tensed, his teeth grinding and his hands clenching. How dare that thing touch her.
She jerked away, words springing forth as she swung a punch. Flesh against flesh rang out in the small space, and she added another kick for good measure, swearing something should he come after her again.
Which the man then did, throwing a fist of his own.
His hands twitching, the prisoner's mind began to turn.
She cried out again, her body jerking as she collapsed against a wall.
Immediately his hand shot through the small opening on the force field, his fingers spreading apart until he could fit his other hand through and wrestle it open, allowing him access to this monster that was now holding her up off the ground by her shirt.
Now, she had off-handedly one day mentioned something. Something attached to him somewhere somehow. An electrical fence, so to speak. Step an inch away from the holding cell and zap!
He ignored anything he remembered about it.
They had done a fine work on it, he conceded, forcing himself to remain upright and not lose focus as the currents raced through his body. Not that he could die from this; but it hurt.
The man leaned in then, mouth seeking hers as she limply sagged back against the wall.
He would not be alone in his pain.
The beast turned, his expression changing rapidly as he took hold of his shirt. What exactly he did, he wouldn't have been able to tell. All he could see through his reddened gaze was her limp body on the floor beyond him.
The electrical currents charged through him again. Five seconds. He could withstand few more. He had time to finish. This thing would never lay a finger on his-
And then she spoke. A whisper, but hers. Telling him to stop.
His eyes shot up, vision clearing as he focused on her. She was leaning up against the wall, blinking, trying to remain steady. Blood stained the wall behind her, and her hair was matted.
He grunted when the restraining device lit up again.
Begging him to stop, her hand stretching towards him.
The body fell, and he stepped on it to drop down beside her, reaching for her outstretched hand.
Five more seconds had passed. He never made it.
Had he been asked, he would have insisted that he was fine. As it were, most people, even these stupid mortals, were able to tell otherwise. That meant he was confined, strapped down in the medical bay for the rest of the following day.
Speech was even slow coming to him, and he was unable to ask how she was.
It bothered him.
A door opened, and he resisted the childish urge to roll his eyes, closing them instead. Couldn't they leave him in peace? His body had already healed itself; this he knew. Running tests would do nothing for them; everything in his DNA had been masked by science more clever than their brains could ever imagine. He just couldn't form a coherent sentence. Not that he had anything to say to these apes.
Someone cleared his throat.
He laid still and silent, daring him to test his patience. All he wanted was to be returned to his little cell and get on with things.
"Khan."
How he had been unable to sense her was beyond him. His eyes opened and he lunged upward, growling when he remembered the straps and chains holding him down. He pulled again, then laid back with a frown.
She smiled, her face distorted with the discoloration of her skin. She must have realized that was where his gaze was set, for she reached up a hand to cover it.
It was just a bruise, and it didn't hurt. She was fine.
He glowered and grumbled to himself, knowing she heard him mutter of what could have happened.
At least, he hoped that's what came out.
Her eyebrows shot up, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing, reassuring instead that all the rest of his faculties, including his voice, would return to him shortly and he would be on his way. It had been quite a fair amount of electricity, even being a superhuman it would take a bit of time to heal. He need only be patient.
Her voice was soothing, but he decided to allow himself an eye roll. She laughed then, laying her hand on his face.
"But thank you."
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring how she needed to get back to her position, seeing as he was here she wasn't needed to watch him. She did promise, however, that she would rally on his behalf and see if he couldn't be removed back to his cell seeing as he was in perfect health and merely wanted to sulk by himself.
He frowned, and she winked.
He watched her leave, stopping only to say something to one the blue-shirt. Then she was gone.
He closed his eyes, ignoring the words floating around and the whirring of the machines.
It was some time that day, whether it be night or afternoon, that he was beamed back into his cell, unshackled, and left alone to suffer his own amusement.
Not that he minded.
Well, he hadn't until time dragged on and on, and no sight of anyone came before him. There were cameras, yes, and crew members trotting by, but that was completely different than having a pretty face to gaze upon.
Eventually he gave up his watch and laid down, solving problems and thinking through philosophies. Mostly technical blueprints, wonderous photons and such. They would be hideous indeed, but so beautiful to him when built.
Hours passed, and perhaps another day before his thoughts took a different turn. It wasn't usually this long in between visits. Something had changed, and he hadn't proven to himself that it was for the best. If only she would wipe away the blur and allow him to understand.
He hated being in the dark. He had been in the dark for so long before the traitor had come to see him.
His thoughts led down a winding path until they paused at a new dilemma: why ever was it taking so long for them to reach earth? No matter how many excursions the Captain made excuses for, there was no way the ship would last much longer. He could sense it through the floor and hear its sickness churning. If they held off their return too long they might rip apart at the seams.
These men weren't quite that mindless. So why then the delay?
His musings were shortly interupted. Not that they would have known, but he did have excellent hearing.
He smiled faintly when he heard her voice, but it waned quickly when he strained to hear the fierce tone she was using.
Something, or rather, the point-eared thing monotoned right back, and a bit in him clenched as some of the words filtered through.
"Facade... tell him the truth."
She answered in a quieter, harsher tone, and he could almost imagine her shaking her finger under its nose. A defiant "Nothing!" was all he heard.
"Tell him what you've done, and what..."
She must have hushed him then, for their voices spiraled down into a murmer of sound, indistinguishable from the rest of the ship's hum.
He stood unmoving, balanced perfectly as he always was. She came storming in then, muttering under her breath.
She was holding a book for him, something he remembered mentioning off-handedly several days ago. Seems she had looked just as she promised she would and had been bringing it to him before being delayed by it.
He greeted her, and it was left hanging in the air.
Her movements were jerky as she worked to open a hole in the shield. She thrust the book through, and when he remained still, passively eyeing her, she rolled her eyes and dropped it.
He flinched, not expecting that reaction in the least. Frowning, he repeated his greeting curtly, throwing in a probing comment about the conversation he'd attempted to overhear.
Her eyes narrowed, and she cursed. Then she spun on her heel and marched away, anger radiating off her in one continuous swell.
Well that had been... different. She had been irritated before, coming in and griping briefly about a crew member or something she'd had to deal with, but never had she been so put out as to leave him standing there, waiting for her reply.
His fists clenched, but he kept his face calm. For there, coming towards him, was what had caused her problem in the first place.
It was the last person he wanted to see, especially now that she was angry with him as well. The one responsible for it all- for reminding him of what he'd lost and now making him send her away, making him watch her storm away.
The pointy-eared thing stood silently and aloof... typical of a Vulcan. He seethed inwardly, knowing that even now the thing must be able to sense some of his wrath. He wasn't doing a very good job of keeping it bottled up, unlike the cool thing before him. It infuriated him even more.
And then the dam burst, and he began to shout, cursing and attacking the shield. If only he could break through and give the thing a good beating. Perhaps it would make him feel better. If only a little, it would be worth it.
Everything appeared red, and Spock merely stood staring back, not saying a word in protest as he continued to yell about what had happened- what he had done to them. His family. And now her.
Something else tugged at his attention, somewhere to his right. He ignored it, letting the outburst continue until it would no longer. He didn't care. His voice seem detached from his mind; not even knowing what he saying but inable to be bothered by it. So long as he could cause the thing a fraction of the pain he had locked deep away it would be worth it.
Whatever it had been that nearly broke his concentration did so again, this time by banging on the force field, attempting to gain his attention. Something else was shouting, but his ears were deaf to it. He didn't even know if he was still speaking... at the moment, he was too busy plotting how he would tear the thing apart.
He jumped though, in turn grabbing the thing that had taken hold of his wrist. But it was too small to be the thing. He blinked, raising his eyes to meet jade green ones.
She was insisting he be quiet and behave, as usual. Also, she was tugging back on her wrist, giving him a pointed look.
He complied, releasing his grip on her arm. No doubt he had squeezed harder than he would have if he'd been aware of who it was.
The thing was gone, he noticed. When it had left he had no idea.
She was still looking at him, but he refused to meet her gaze. He had hurt her.
"Khan."
He glanced up, then away, his hard expression giving way to a more neutral one.
She sighed then, before she turned away. She had something to show him, but it would have to wait. He'd have to calm down first.
Calm. Hah. But for her, he would try.
Somehow, in some way he must have dozed off. He rarely slept, only after extreme missions or weeks of doing nothing. He had just woken up, his body and mind in a more relaxed state. The previous afternoon's proceeding's caused him to tense, but he forced it out of his muscles. She wanted him to be calm, and he wanted to see what it was she had for him.
It took longer than he wanted for her to arrive. Most days she came mid-morning, bringing food or something else. Maybe a book. And instrument if she thought he might be so inclined. Reading was one thing, but music? He humored her for several minutes before stashing it away, choosing vocalizing his thoughts over that. Heaven forbid.
He stood straight, tilting his head when he heard her approach. She paused, turning to the side to get something out of a case, but not before flashing a smile to him.
Strange. It wasn't as happy as usual.
She came to him then, reaching out to slide the silver knob to the middle, and opening a space wide enough for both of his hands to fit through, asking him if he wouldn't mind.
She held up the cuffs, a sheepish smile brightening her dour expression.
He put his hands through obediently, and she secured them on, doing several checks and giving him apologetic looks before she nodded that he could withdraw his hands.
He did so, eyeing the contraption with a sense of appreciativeness. It was well made; he could hardly break it simply by yanking it apart. Probably if he bashed it against something hard enough, but only if the thing being bashed against was strong enough to withstand the blows and not break before the cuffs did.
He glanced up, noticing she had walked over to the computer. She was now tapping on it, typing and keying in something. Her finger was poised over the last one when she looked up and cleared her throat.
She explained the control mechanism secured to his ankle. While it shocked him repetitively when he escaped his cell, she'd had to reprogram it for a trip outside. If he went out of line, she would trigger it to go off, and it would be one stream of agonizing electricity until he passed out and was able to be moved back to his cell. She insisted she didn't want to use it, but if necessary she was under orders, and if she disobeyed those orders she could be kept from helping him at all.
He smiled slightly, and nodded.
She pressed the button, and the shield vanished, leaving him free to step out of his castle. He did so, cautiously glancing around, waiting for the security team to appear and surround him.
None came.
It was then he noticed she had a gun strapped to her hip, and her hair was pulled back. She was obviously escorting him alone; no wonder dear old Jim had thought the threat was needed.
He stood still, waiting for her to come closer. Or was she too now afraid of him?
"Why so sad?"
He blinked, raising an eyebrow.
She pointed to his face and moved quickly to his side, rotating her body to keep the gun away from his grasp, and rolling her eyes while doing so.
They both knew he would never do anything to hurt her.
She shifted closer to him, and then to his surprise she slid her hand around his arm.
She took a step to lead him off, then stopped, looking back over her shoulder in confusion and questioning, saying something that he didn't quite hear.
At least, he thought she was looking at him. He was too busy staring down at her hand to really pay attention what she was doing and saying otherwise.
She glanced down and was quick to apologize. And then the hand was lifting away from him.
"No." He pressed his arm to his side, pinning her in place.
Her expression was confused.
"No, it's alright," he amended, lowering his voice back to normal, allowing her to see his eyes and the emotion there.
She smiled then, and they set off after she readjusted her grip.
The majority of the crew members shied away from them as they strolled through the Enterprise. Several openly stared, and a few looked put out, for whatever reason their tiny brains thought of. He smiled at those, flashing his teeth, attempting to recreate what she had called his 'sinister stare'.
After the fourth person went white, she gave him an elbow and scolding. It was bad enough already; now there would be stories of his cannibalism and plots on how each was to be cooked.
He turned his smile to her, and she rolled her eyes.
They walked in silence for a bit longer. She was most definitely taking her time, and he wanted to know why.
He also wanted to know where they were going, and why.
A 'storage room in the heart of the star ship' was hardly the answer he wanted, and she knew it.
She still had yet to answer his question as to 'why'.
They came to a lift, and after they were safely inside and going down, he shifted over to her. He was desperate to know and underhand techniques weren't too low for him to use.
"Won't you tell me?" He murmured, letting his forehead rest against her own, lacing his fingers through hers.
Apparently it was one of the safest places on the ship. Supplies were always needed, especially if they were stranded somewhere. Collateral damage to the ship's hull would have to be serious to get anywhere near it. It had even survived the Admiral's latest attempt to annihilate them.
He stood up straight, a crease now in his brow. What that had to do with him, he had no idea. He still wanted to know.
She glanced up, then away, her jaw set as she shook her head.
He leaned back down, lightly pressing a kiss to her temple, peering down at her through lidded eyes. Unfortunately, she had that stubborn look on her face... the one where by no means of any sort of seduction would he get anything out of her.
He could always try.
Her movement was reluctant when she finally pushed him back, clearing her throat and making mention of how close they were to their destination.
He never had found out what it was he was going to see.
She was still slightly blushing when the doors finally opened. There were few crew members down here; most were still working on the damage done to the ship. The couple they passed nodded, and one mentioned something about the door being unlocked. What door? There must have been hundreds of them!
She pointed out some of the doors, though most were clearly labelled, reciting the different things contained within. The whole deck was basically storage, nearly anything anyone could ever need in any circumstance, and so forth. Dull information.
This was boring him. As much as there was he didn't know about her, the one thing he never would have guessed would be that she would do anything for nothing. Perhaps in her spare time, but not randomly with a so-called dangerous fugitive.
And then, finally, she stopped before one of the doors, tugging him back far enough so that it wouldn't open before she was ready.
And then, she shifted her stance, before attempting to work out something that sounded like he was unjustified in his hatred of the thing.
He jerked away from her, the well-known sting of hurt rising in him.
"Khan!"
She caught his hands, but he pulled back, ignoring her plea for him to simply listen to her.
He stopped moving, but his face was shuttered. She sighed and folded her arms, hugging herself tightly, the same streak of pain he had felt flashing across her face.
Yes, he had detonated the torpedoes. She realized that and she knew what it meant. But he didn't understand.
He hissed, inhumanly. He understood perfectly. The hurt turning to anger. He should have known better than to trust-
And then, she insisted it was not true.
He paused, frowning, not at all enjoying this game she was playing.
Yes, the thing was an annoying, emotionless pile of ash but under no circumstances was he ruthless enough to destroy seventy two innocent people.
She backed away from him, pausing in front of the door as it opened with a swish, beckoning for him to come and look.
A hundred different voices screamed at him as he cautiously crept forward, all giving their differing opinions on what he was doing. How none of this was making any sense. She held her hand out, gesturing for him to go in ahead.
He did so slowly, and then he gasped.
It didn't take him long to count the cryo-tubes lined up and grouped together. Still, he counted again, and again, and a fourth time.
Then, he wept.
Had he been asked how long he stood there, head lowered as she gently rubbed his back, he would not have known. The agony he had felt the past several weeks had been slowly pushed down and away, knowing the thought of them all dead was enough to drive him insane. His family. His heart. And they were all safe.
They were all alive.
He eventually ventured another glance around the room, lifting his head off her, almost regretting it soon as he had done so. But his attention was otherwise occupied, and he knew he had to see them. All of them.
She didn't say a word, merely hooked her hand through his arm again, following him around, and nodding when he began to talk. Just a word, here and there. A name. A memory. But she nodded, and she smiled whenever he looked at her.
He had to be dreaming.
All the men were together. All his officers, all his technicians. Every single one of them, frozen in their blessed sleep. All vital signs as they should be. Every name ingrained in his memory.
It was the same thing with the women.
And then...
There were seven smaller capsules on the end, and he felt his eyes well again with tears as he quickly glanced over them before stopping by the fifth one.
The little boy with sandy hair almost looked mischievous, even in his sleep. He smiled then, reaching out his hands to rest his fingers on the glass.
She stood close beside him, a question in her eyes when he turned to look.
He told her then, the gruesome tales he'd lived through... how the children's bodies reacted to the serum easier, though it made them near animals for months on end and was hardly worth the trouble. Not to mention they were impulsive and difficult to keep track of. The adults, however, handled the transformation much better mentally, though the death ratio was much higher. Much, much higher.
He closed his eyes and grimaced, banishing the memories and screams that arose behind his eyelids in vivid color back to the dark corners of his mind.
Something cool rested on his arm, and he opened his eyes to see concern in hers.
Many of the families wanted to be done together, to keep themselves as one unit. He sighed, then ground out some more. Many of the children weren't approved and shipped off to homes around the neighboring countries, leaving the parents with little choice.
"His name is Andy," he looked down at the little face, a hint of a smile. "His family was the last to be done together."
She wanted to see his parents... if only they were there for her to see.
She placed her other hand on his arm, then almost hugged it as she leaned in.
He sighed, then tilted his head so his cheek rested on the top of her head before continuing. The child, learning of the fate of his beloved father and mother had closed himself off to anyone. Until he had met him. The boy had attached himself so quickly, insisting he looked and acted like the boy's father. He had disliked it at first, but allowed it merely to keep the child's sanity in place. He had grown to find comfort in him.
And then he had thought they were all gone.
He closed his eyes, allowing what he thought had happened to resurface. Knowing they were all aboard his ship. Then hearing the explosion, and being numb with pain. Frozen, such as they had been, inable to react to anything. Had someone been there with him he would have been easy prey.
"Khan."
Her hand was methodically sliding up and down his arm.
"They're safe."
He looked down at her, and then he allowed himself a broad smile before whirling her off to introduce her to the others.
They remained for another two hours before she finally sighed and put her foot down, telling him her phone had been buzzing for the past fourty five minutes. If they didn't leave the worst would be imagined and a search party would be sent out. His crew weren't going anywhere; she would most certainly bring him back again.
He smiled in gratitude, then shuttered his face once more as they entered the outside world.
He knew something was wrong the moment she appeared the next day. He had stood up, smiling and eager to see her, but the odd expression on her face gave him pause. He raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.
They were to reach London in t-minus twenty eight hours.
Ah. Then commences his trial and execution, no doubt.
She searched his face, then shook her head, hands immediately on the barrier. He couldn't be killed. There was no possible way they would allow it...
The thing's words echoed through his mind. "Facade. Tell him the truth. What you've done."
He turned around, clasping his hands behind his back as he meandered away from her, not giving himself the chance to betray his thoughts and hurt her. Had this really all been a ploy? And to what end? Unless she was lying, in which case she would turn on him and unleash the monster within... but no, she wouldn't. One might have a chance at lying to him, but not repeatedly. Not for so long. Not when...
He stared at the back wall, ideas and plots churning through his mind. Whatever it was, she obviously wasn't going to tell him. He either trusted her or he didn't. Right now, she was his best chance for survival... and she hadn't betrayed him. Yet.
But she wouldn't. He couldn't believe it. So it was merely to trust her then, and hope that whatever she had up her sleeve would work and he would merely be imprisoned for ten or so years. At least he'd be alive.
She was moving around behind him, dragging something that sounded like a chair over so she could sit, and picking something up. Rustling some paper. Might as well get it over with. He always hated debriefings.
But he chose to cooperate, and to listen as she lectured him on decorum in the court room. What to say, what not to say, how to say it... she was doing it all on orders, she insisted, though she did admit to being thankful it was her the Captain had asked and not someone else. It was for his benefit, and she was one of the few on board the ship that could see that. He knew this to be true, but the formality of the occasion and her behaviour towards him was still different.
Finally, three hours later, he understood and memorized every minute detail. What the charges against him were, the accusations and arguments being formed to secure this punishment or that, and how he was to respond. Truthfully, she had insisted. Tell them the whole truth about your crew. Don't suppress emotion about them. Let it out. Let them see.
He nodded in acquiesance, but when inquired as to the defense she shook her head. It was to be a surprise. They didn't want him to know because they wanted him to be genuine with it and not appear to be plotting and thinking up another scheme of antagonism against Starfleet, etc.
And, she insisted he allow his hard mask of indifference to be removed. Pleaded with him. True emotion would help his posistion, and she implored him on it.
Her large, pretty eyes and face would be the death of his dignity.
When they were settled and in agreement on everything, she yawned and stretched.
He placed a hand on the field. "Get some rest."
"I may not see you much when we land-"
"Get some rest," he allowed a brief smile. "And thank you."
He stood still in the corner, categorizing and storing each bit of information she had given him, should it prove useful on the morrow or whenever his trial was to be. It was somewhat tedious, for her mind had skipped over some things and then doubled back around. He needed something to do anyway.
Closing his eyes, he began to work next on the arguments against him. Most important to least, most detailed of each of those sub-categories, and so forth. Kept his mind sharp, and kept him from dying before any of this from sheer boredom.
His peace and quiet was never to be, however. If it wasn't one thing it was another. And this time, it was a very annoying thing.
And the annoying thing was ever so polite, coolly asking if he were intruding.
He breathed in deeply, then huffed it out, steeling himself. He would not be put beneath the Vulcan, no matter how angry he had been with him... after all, the thing really hadn't done anything too terrible. It'd merely beaten him at his own game.
"No, not at all." He turned around, hands lightly clasped behind his back, tone and face as cool and even as the Vulcan's. "May I inquire as to the nature of your visit?"
To see how he was doing? Especially after last night?
He shrugged, letting his gaze rise above as the Vulcan continued rambling on, going through his logic as to why he had done what he did, why it shouldn't have been that big of a deal. How infuriating. Yet it almost seemed out of character, as if the thing were... apologizing?
And it understood his grief... during his three hundred years of sleep Vulcan had been destroyed.
Ah. That was something he'd not been told. Therefore, from his own grief, the Vulcan knew exactly how to break him. Or at least attempt to.
The thing had been saying a few other things, how she was happy. He had done so for her. But logic defied anything coming of it, what with the circumstances being what they were... still, if things could possibly work out it hoped they would. Then it finally paused.
And then it was turning around and walking away.
What would she have him to do? The one day, ever so long ago, she had grown quite irritated and finally snapped, taking her frustration out on him. She had apparently thought he was eyeing a crew member as she slinked past when he had not been.
He would never have admitted it, but he had been thinking of how superior she was to this child sauntering about with a wink and smirk. At least she came and spoke to him.
Nevertheless, she had been convinced of his innocence. And then apologized.
Oh, it burned.
Somehow, he ground the word out before the thing had gone too far from hearing. It stopped, turned around, and eyed him.
"I'm sorry," he forced out again, preparing to sulk later after the thing rubbed it in his face.
Spock paused, tilted his head, and then his eyebrows raised ever so slightly.
"Think nothing of it."
He would have sworn he saw a hint of a smile cross the Vulcan's face as he left.
Perhaps in the past, during his normal life, he would have been surprised by things. An unexpected note from a star-crossed friend, a party planned for the date of his birth; all that and more. As it were, nothing was able to catch him off guard anymore. Not since his 'upgrade'. He was virtually a god, aware and all-knowing of everything about him.
Except, apparently, their defense for his life.
His heart rate was up, though he somehow managed to keep his face neutral. The captain and his lady had been detailing everything that happened since he began slaving away for the dog one year and some months earlier. How he'd had no choice, how his mind was confused for a time... that sort of thing. Stuff and nonsense, though most of it was true, they exaggerated the goodness of his heart just a bit too much. Really, he wasn't that nice.
The captain had handled most of that, and though responses were more negative than good, he was thanked and thoughtful expression littered the faces of the jury.
She had stood up next, and for a while seemed to ramble on about nothing in particular. Merely statistics and rubbish about the change that could take place, or how character could be proven through close and careful study. He tried to catch her eye, to understand what on earth she was doing, but she avoided looking at him.
She brought their attention to the screen, and for a time they sat and stared, in awe that a doomsday machine such as himself was capable of such feeling.
There was no volume, only recording of his times in the cell. All of them, particularly the ones where she was involved. Every single moment they ever shared had been caught on tape was now replaying before them.
It bothered him briefly, but then he had known of the cameras. He couldn't really fault anyone for watching.
Emotion ran through him as he saw himself seeing his family for the first time on board the Enterprise. His face twisted, and he found himself fighting a smile.
After a few more clips, the screen went blank, and she cleared her throat, beginning again.
Underneath it all, he was a good person. He had been manipulated and done so himself, but only in order to save those he loved. Does the end justify the means? No, not necessarily. He should be punished for his crimes against Starfleet. But the level of punishment was to be thought a most delicate subject. He was not a mindless Borg, intent on destroying the human race. He was capable of feeling and expressing those feelings.
Her face brightened to a pink, and several quiet laughs filtered through the quiet as she ducked her head.
Most importantly, he was a person. He'd been mistreated and used, and even with his faults he should not be left for dead. There was hope to be found regarding him, and she had done her best in finding so.
And that was why she had spent so much time with him. She had seen the potential and had worked to make it clear... no wonder the Vulcan had said what he did to her. Therefore, based upon her reaction to him now, and the 'nothing' he had heard so venemously spat before, the Vulcan must have thought...
It dawned on him then. "Facade." A facade of her feeling.
In which case "Nothing!" meant...
This time, he couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from curling up.
She had finished speaking, and was now standing close by him, her eyes never leaving his.
The minutes dragged into half an hour before the jury adjourned, making some announcement of some sort of anything. Someone came to him and gestured for his hands. He held them out obediently, tensed and ready to pounce.
As soon as the cuffs were removed, he lunged towards her, his expression set and causing alarm to race through the ranks.
In the half second it took for all the armed men to raise their guns and aim, he had tightened his arms around her body, not her neck, but was still nearly crushing her by the force of his embrace.
Finally.
She snuggled against him, her arms around his waist, smaller as she was. But he didn't mind. She was finally his.
There was a stunned silence around them, but he chose to ignore it and the Captain's voice as he soothed the frazzled nerves of the crowd. He was finally able to hold her properly, and not just have her wrapped around his arm when escorting him somewhere.
He sighed, letting his head rest down on her own, willing Grandfather Time to slow down for just a few minutes.
All too soon, though, they were forced to stand apart. There was still the final bit of the process to go through. Punishment and all that. He wasn't needed, though, and so long as he behaved himself she wouldn't have to paralyze him with the gizmo still attached to his ankle. Maybe one day he would have it removed, but for right now he was happy as he was.
He made sure to grip her hand in his own as they were escorted back to the Enterprise. For security reasons, as she explained with some irritation, he would have to stay in the holding cell. Only for the next couple days as the court finished working everything out she would be able to visit and actually sit with him inside the cell if she so wished.
And she did, for two days.
On the third, she stayed outside, and though he stepped quickly over with a smile and a greeting, she remained motionless.
He moved quickly to the barrier between them, placing his hands on it, willing her to look at him. He resorted to pleading, nearly begging her to tell him whatever it was that was troubling her. What other way could he help?
At least she looked at him, though her eyes were too red and larger than normal.
Something settled in him, and he didn't like it. It was a dark and despairing sort of feeling, and he did not like it.
She shook her head, then lowered it to avoid showing him. In a quiet tone, she laid out the final verdict: criminal. condemned. cryogenics. crew.
He was to be re-frozen and placed back with his family. She looked at him then, a single tear trailing down her face.
He stared at her, her words echoing ominously through his brain. It couldn't be. If anything he could rot in prison, in here for all eternity. He would behave, and she would be able to at least come to speak with him.
His eyes shot up to meet hers. She had placed her hands on the shield against his own, but her voice had wavered.
"Khan, I..."
"I as well," he whispered, putting as much emotion as he dared into it.
She awarded him with a shaky smile, and then impulsive she grabbed the key and swung it apart, squeezing through the hole and into his arms.
It was how the Starfleet officials found them. He refused to satisfy them with emotion; he settled for a blank stare, pinning each of them with his shaded disgust. Only the Captain and even the Vulcan had regret etched into their expression, but what could they do?
Neither did he willingly remove himself from her. It resulted in an electrical pulse dropping him to the floor, and a burly security guard to catch and hold her arms behind her back, ignoring her protests and struggles.
She was still fighting as they cuffed and chained him, mostly dragging him away as his body was still recuperating from the first shock. Needless to say, he didn't want another one, and he hurt inside too much to resist.
They dumped him into a cryogenic tube exactly like the one he remembered. He laid there still and silent, refusing them any reaction. How he wished he could weep.
And then, in his mind's eye, he began to back track through the past weeks. The first few awkward encounters where she would try to talk and he would only stare. Then the smiles, and her delight when they were returned. The conversations that grew in length as did his trust. All the things they had done together... and all the things they wouldn't.
But her final words to him... Her voice so sweet and tender, echoing through his mind as the cryo-tube began to hum and prepare itself. She might not have actually said it, but he had certainly heard her.
"Khan, I...
...love you."
And he smiled.