Michael looked down at the sleeping form of Ash, running her fingers gently through his hair. At present, he was sleeping soundly with his head in her lap, and she was grateful for this small mercy.
When he had seen L'Rell on the Klingon death ship, he had literally been rendered incapacitated . Then he had quickly descended into his own personal hell, the likes of which she had never seen. He was seeing his previous torment, reliving his personal shame. And her heart broke for him.
He started to shift restlessly, murmuring incoherently. "Shh. It's alright. " she whispered, running her hands down his arms. He grasped her hand, pulling it across his chest, almost as if he was using it to anchor him to the reality of the now.
It was more than obvious to Michael that he had been made to suffer. That bones had been broken, skin had been stripped, countless bruises and wounds treated and healed, only to be inflicted upon him again. She had seen the fresh scars marring his skin, and it made her angry. She wanted to injure those who had injured him. But doing that wouldn't unburden him. She knew he would have to navigate this and come to some peace on his own terms.
Her mind shifted to the other fact that she knew. She knew L'Rell had exploited her fondness for him, and forced him into acts he was ashamed of. When she had asked him who L'Rell was, he could barely meet her eye. And when she had asked what L'Rell had done, he could barely suppress the shudder of revulsion.
What amazed her was his concern for everyone but himself. If she had been damaged and savaged the way he had, she would not be able to function, let alone help anyone but herself. Yet, he had shown patience with her, wanted her comfort above anything in his dealings with her.
"Noooo!!! PLEASE!!!! Please…. STOP, I will do what…" She tightened her arms around him, shifting her body down on the bed to be able to hold him more fully. But he was struggling against her. And before she registered what was happening, he had flipped her body under him, and had grabbed her tightly by the arms.
"I Won't let you. Not again!" he was pushing her down into the mattress. And he had no idea where he was, or who he was with.
"Tyler….Tyler. listen to my voice. It's me, Tyler. It's Burnham. Tyler..Ash. You are safe. I won't let anyone hurt you. " afraid to touch him as he might incorporate it into whatever dream he was experiencing. She only hoped she was reaching him.
Inside, he knew this was different. Knew the voice, the body attempting to soothe him, was one of solace, not pain. So, slowly, he opened his eyes. Anguished hazel met the warm, concerned gaze of brown eyes.
"Burnham. What…?" he looked down at her, his arms grasping hers tightly. "Jesus…I'm sorry. I would never purposely hurt you. I'm..so very sorry." He rubbed at her arms, hoping he didn't bruise her.
"I know that. It wasn't your intention. " Burnham propped herself against the headboard. Ash laid his head on her stomach, and her arms went around his body. Pressing a kiss to her stomach, he whispered "I'm sorry. You don't deserve this. You don't need to be dragged into this mess. I'm damaged, I know it. And you don't need to be saddled with trying to fix me, to heal me."
She looked down at him. He was openly weeping, his tears soaking into her shirt. She ran her hands up and down his sides, down his back. "You aren't. There is nothing wrong with you. Don't you see? You endured a horrible ordeal. And you did what most would in order to survive. It doesn't make you wrong. Or weak. You were completely at their will, at their mercy. And you aren't damaged. You are here, whole, alive. That makes you special. It makes you strong. And I'm honored to know you."
"Michael…I'm haunted by what has been done to me. I don't really know exactly all that it entailed, or all that was done, but I know, in my bones, it was bad. Horrors, depraved, painful, horrible things. Maybe it's best that I don't remember exactly what it was. But I know it fills me with shame. I'm alive. Everyone else I knew, gone. Why? Why did they spare me, and no one else. It cannot only be to be of service to L'Rell.
How can you look at me, see me as a man, allow me to touch you, knowing what has been done to me?" his voice, anguished and sharp in the overwhelming silence.
"That's exactly why it matters. It was done to you. Taken from you without you consent. Had you fought, you would have been killed. You are a survivor. I am in awe of you. You are so kind, so caring to everyone. Care about their well being, their safety. Tend to their needs. That's all that matters."
He was still agitated, so she leaned down, pressing her lips to his in an attempt to ease him. "I am here. I'm not going anywhere I never thought anyone would ever see my worth. You did. And I am grateful everyday for that. We two are both damaged. And we can help each other through this."
"You would do that? Stay with me, despite all this?" he lifted his eyes to hers, incredulous but hopeful.
"Why would I not? I think you need to talk about what happened. To me, in a journal … something. It needs to be excised from you in some way."
He nodded, looking up into her eyes with the first glimmer of hope she had seen in this whole episode.
"I will. If you are here by my side, I feel I can do anything. Thank you for allowing me the room to do this. To feel these things. To not judge me. I am eternally grateful."
Burnham smiled, kissed him with all the hope and tenderness she could convey. "It's a start. And we will do this together."
"I'm so tired. Will you stay with me until I wake up? " Ash asked, as if almost afraid of what she would say.
"I will. Rest now. The world needs Ash Tyler. I need him. We will both be waiting for what he has yet to do."
Running her hands through his hair she lulled him to sleep, hoping for peace and a respite for all that plagued him.