Title: Moral Support
Rating: T
Pairings: Davenport/Goddard
Note: I don't own Space Cases, but I miss it a whole lot. This is a missing scene of sorts that takes place between "All You Can Eaty" and "Both Sides Now." I also apparently like to write awkward hugs into my stories.
WARNING for character injury and PTSD
Moral Support
"…and after we got that horrid Eaty creature off of the ship with the vacuum, the students tried to convince me that you were awake!" Davenport ranted. "Such a hurtful practical joke."
Commander Goddard, of course, remained comatose and unresponsive to the former vice principal's diatribe as she paced around the Med Lab.
Spending her nights in Med Lab had become routine. T.J. slept fitfully in her quarters worrying over the state of the Commander's health, and being close to him while he was in the healing chamber put her mind at ease (or as "at ease" as T.J.'s mind could ever be).
A few weeks prior, she'd had the horrifying thought that Seth would either die alone in the Med Lab due to some unforeseen complication or wake up alone and disoriented in what amounted to a transparent coffin. Her fears were irrational, of course. Rosie and Thelma checked on the Commander several times a day, and the Christa's living systems would prevent any imbalance in the chemicals keeping him sedated until he was fully recovered. Even so, T.J. visited the Med Lab every night.
The students became aware of her vigil after she had accidentally let it slip while scolding them for their stupid prank: a version of her fear come to life. She made it clear that lying about the wellbeing of fellow crewmembers in any capacity would not be tolerated, and she managed to remain somewhat composed until Harlan had said, "It's not like we told you he died or something." At this point she'd launched into a tirade and only stopped when poor Rosie had started crying.
T.J. winced at the memory. "I'm trying. Please don't judge me," she grumbled half-heartedly, giving the unconscious Commander the side-eye. Her glare softened instantly as she studied him, hoping to witness some movement, however small. When there wasn't any, she continued, "It is just so difficult having to watch over them without you. Everything is more difficult without you. I realize now how much I took you for granted, and I'm sorry. There are so many things I want to say to you." Her heart sank. "And I don't even know if you can hear me. If you can, you probably don't want to listen to me wittering away like this, do you?"
The doors opened and Thelma shuffled into the Med Lab, greeting Davenport with a mechanical smile. The android scanned the Commander while T.J. looked over her shoulder and busied herself by wringing her hands.
"How is he?" T.J. asked softly.
"Commander Goddard is expected to make a full recovery, and his progress is still tracking as anticipated." Thelma cocked her head to the side. "Will you be all right, Miss Davenport?"
The question took T.J. by surprise. "I... I don't know. Right now, I'm not. But I must pretend to be."
Thelma beeped as she processed this information. "Why do you have to pretend?"
"Because, Thelma. Because the crew needs me to be strong for them and to guide them home. I need to be strong like Seth was. Like he is," she quickly corrected herself. T.J. shuddered and suddenly felt ill at the realization that she'd referred to the Commander in the past tense. The fact was he'd very nearly died the day the Christa made it back into space: a fact T.J. would not soon forget.
Goddard's cries of agony had sent chills down T.J.'s spine. She'd feared she would be sick as Radu set him down inside the airlock and sealed the outer doors. Seth's lower body had been crushed by the tremendous weight of the ship. T.J. choked back the bile in her throat and willed herself to stop shaking as she'd collapsed next to him and grasped his hand. "Seth, it will be all right. We'll get you to the Med Lab. Just hold on."
His hand had been like a vice around hers as she'd continued whispering soothing nonsense throughout the ship's turbulent takeoff. Finally, Goddard had managed to speak through gritted teeth and labored breaths. "T.J. Get them home."
"I won't take over for you because you will be fine," she'd insisted, despite the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. She'd come along to give moral support, and she wasn't going to fail at that. "Seth, you're not going anywhere. You cannot give up. Don't you dare give up on me!"
"Promise. Promise me."
"You will not die. Do you hear me, Seth Goddard? You cannot die! I forbid it!"
His eyelids grew heavy; his entire being was exhausted as he'd tried again, "Please. Promise. I can't... Teej, I can't..."
T.J. remembered feeling his hand slipping from hers as he'd started to lose consciousness. "I promise!" The words had been ripped from her throat. "I promise, Seth! I promise. I promise, I promise..."
He'd managed a nod as he'd finally lost consciousness and slumped against her. She'd found herself cradling his head in her lap, powerless to help him.
Thelma's voice pulled T.J. back to the present. "You do not believe that you are already strong, Miss Davenport?" the android wondered.
T.J. shook her head in the negative. "I can barely hold it together. Seth always managed to remain calm in a crisis. Even right before he lost consciousness—when he was suffering from unbearable pain—he managed to give orders. No one can replace him. But I am doing my best. I promised him I would."
"You do not need to replace the Commander. The Christa is taking good care of him. She is helping him heal."
T.J. sighed. "I just wish the Christa could help me heal, too."
Thelma appeared confused. "I was not aware you were injured as well, Miss Davenport."
"Emotionally," T.J. clarified. "I am as much of an emotional wreck as Seth is a physical one."
Still confused, and perhaps a bit curious, Thelma continued her line of questioning, "Does it hurt?"
The android was so innocent, almost like a child. How did one explain mortality to a child or to a human emulating machine? T.J. leaned closer to the chamber and delicately rested her fingertips on the glass. She stared down at Seth through tear-filled eyes. "Oh, what have you done?" she whispered.
"Was that directed to me?" Thelma wondered.
"No, Thelma. I was talking to the Commander."
"You asked the Commander a question even though he cannot respond?" She stared in confusion and attempted to read the multitude of emotions flickering across the former assistant principal's face. It was only when the woman started sobbing that Thelma realized, "You are upset. I'm sorry. I was simply trying to understand so I could offer assistance," Thelma explained, handing T.J. a handkerchief. "It is my prime directive to help, not hurt. Did I do something wrong?"
T.J. shook her head as she dabbed her eyes. "No, Thelma. You didn't do anything wrong. I know it doesn't make sense. But yes, it hurts. It hurts so very much."
"Because you care about the Commander?"
Davenport was surprised at where Thelma's questions were headed. "Yes," she finally answered. "Having Seth here makes me feel safe. Without him... His absence makes me realize not only how much I rely on him, but how very deeply I care for him." Oddly, that confession alone felt like a weight off her shoulders.
"Would it help if I told you that he cares about you too?" Thelma asked.
T.J. inhaled sharply, the shock overpowering her grief. When she managed to find her voice again she asked, "And how do you know that?"
"I am not sure. It is information stored as fact in my memory banks. Perhaps it is a conclusion drawn from observing your social interactions. Or perhaps the Christa told me." Thelma's mouth twisted into a frown and she cast her eyes downward in what appeared to be embarrassment. "Or perhaps I am simply malfunctioning."
T.J. sniffled and managed the slightest smile at the android's sweetly exaggerated facial expression and confessed, "I sincerely hope you are not malfunctioning."
"I wonder what it would be like to feel emotions such as love, even if that meant having to hurt sometimes."
Radu had been the one to carry the unconscious Commander into the Med Lab after takeoff, and T.J. had been unable to look away from the disheveled student until he gently set Goddard down in the exam chair. She remembered staring down at her trembling red-stained hands in a state of morbid fascination before dismissing the young Andromedan to quickly wash up, go to the Command Post, and fetch Rosie. T.J. had practically scrubbed her hands raw in the Med Lab's small sink.
Davenport shook her head. It took a moment for her to realize Thelma had interpreted her feelings for the Commander not as friendship, but as love. But he was certainly in no position to reveal his thoughts on the matter. Their banter had always been safe, and now there was so much at stake. But ignoring her feelings or suffering in silence certainly wasn't doing T.J. any good. "I don't know that it's worth it, Thelma. I really don't."
"I believe you are wrong, Miss Davenport. Something bad has happened, but it is possible that something good can come from it. Commander Goddard was hurt, but he is healing now. You are hurting now, but the Commander will wake up and help you heal. Then you can both be happy!"
Davenport turned to Thelma with tears in her eyes and gave her a hug. "Thank you, Thelma. You remind me of the positive possibilities in the universe. You are a great friend."
The android reciprocated the gesture and awkwardly, mechanically, patted her back. "You are welcome, Miss Davenport. I believe anything is possible. It is 2200 hours. You really should get some rest."
"No, I think I will stay here for a while." T.J. looked from Thelma to the chamber. "Do you think the Commander can hear us?"
Thelma's eyes shifted from side-to-side before she repeated, "I believe anything is possible."
"Of course." A few more tears fell. "Right, then. Goodnight, Thelma. Get the students to their quarters for me, please."
"Goodnight, Miss Davenport." Thelma nodded and shuffled off to find the kids.
T.J. pulled up a chair next to the head of the chamber. She had to take care of the students. She promised. If only there was a way for her to make up for Goddard's absence. She only knew so much, and none of that knowledge seemed to be helping lately. And what she wouldn't give to fill her head with anything other than memories of Seth's broken body whenever she closed her eyes.
"Oh, Seth. I just feel so lost. Assuming we both make it through this," she gulped, "we need to have some very important discussions when you wake up, don't we? Whether you can hear me now or not."