A Healing of Hurts
People cleared a path around Raynor as he walked down the Hyperion's corridors with Sarah Kerrigan in his arms. No one so much as whispered, and the scuff of Raynor's boots on the decking was almost painfully loud.
Something had changed. Right at the end of the battle, before the Xel'Naga artifact cleansed Sarah and wiped out nearby Zerg forces, he had heard her in his mind. Even as the Zerg Queen of Blades rained destruction upon his forces, he could hear her calling out to him.
He continued to hear her now.
She was asleep, but he was acutely aware of her "presence". It was bizarre. He had never demonstrated any psionic talents. He could only guess that the sheer power of her mind was such that he could sense her anyway.
However it had happened, he could sense her slumbering mind. She was having nightmares. He had a sinking feeling that the snippets of horrifying images he was picking up from her weren't just dreams, but memories.
"Sarah," he whispered. "We saved you from the Zerg. I just hope I can save you from yourself."
XXXXXXXXXX
"Sir, you should try to get some rest," Matt Horner admonished his friend.
"Can't," Raynor half whispered.
"You've been sitting here by her bed for three days straight. You haven't slept, you haven't eaten anything. Frankly sir, you're a wreck. You're no good to her if you starve yourself to death."
Jim looked up at Matt. "I'll be fine Matt. I want to be here when she wakes up. Things are going to be…difficult for her when she does."
"I don't doubt that," Matt said with feeling. "Getting past the things that she's suffered…"
"It's more than that. I think something about being exposed to the Zerg, or maybe to the Xel'Naga artifact, has amplified her psionic talents. I can see and hear her mind. She's….powerful, Matt. Extremely powerful," Jim said.
Matt looked alarmed. "Is she a threat?"
"I don't know. Possibly, although not intentionally. The Zerg infestation imprisoned her mind for four years. Everything she's felt, every violation of her mind and body, every horrible memory from her time as a Zerg, every atrocity she witnessed through her own eyes but was powerless to stop…it was all bottled up that whole time and she's never been able to deal with it. It's all about to pour out now. I'm afraid Matt. I'm afraid of what she might to do herself, or to the ship for that matter. The power of her mind is incredible, even asleep," Jim explained.
Matt sighed. "Sir, I hate to say it. But think about what she's been through. She might prefer to be dead. It might've been better if-"
"NO!" Raynor came out of his chair, his eyes radiating hell. "Don't you understand? The prophecy Zeratul showed me. She is the only one," Raynor jabbed a finger at her hospital bed, "that can stop the The Dark Voice from destroying us all!"
Matt held up a placating hand spoke cautiously. "I know you're close with the Protoss, and I don't pretend to understand this whole prophecy thing. I'm not sure if I believe it or not. But let's be honest, it's not about the prophecy for you, is it?"
Raynor looked away from Matt, settling his eyes on Sarah's sleeping form.
"Is it?" Matt repeated.
"Does it matter?" Raynor replied.
"Damned right it does," Matt replied sharply. "We still have to finish the job with Mengsk and if your Protoss buddies are right, we've got something much worse than him coming down the pike. We need a commander, not someone wallowing in pity over his girlfriend."
Raynor's gaze was deadly. "If we don't get her into shape to do whatever it is her part is against in this coming war, it won't matter. Dammit Matt, I need your support in this or-" Raynor stumbled to halt.
Matt looked at Jim quizzically. "What? What is it?"
"She's waking up," Jim said slowly.
Raynor ran to the side of the bed. No sooner than he had gotten there, she started to stir. Slowly at first, she swam towards consciousness. In her mind, he could see a wall, a barrier holding back all the pain, hurt, guilt, and hell she had experienced. A wall put in by her unconscious mind to help her sleep, but it was crumbling, and Jim knew it would be gone when she woke.
It was a helpless feeling. He couldn't protect her from this, and it wrenched at his heart. It was like watching a slow motion train wreck. Not knowing what else to do he took her hand in his.
Her eyes flitted open. She looked up into Jim's eyes, and what he saw overjoyed and hurt him both.
There was the inevitable pain and self hatred. They clung to her like a curse. But he also saw Sarah, the real Sarah in those eyes. After all the fighting and dying, the long nights alone, the fear and uncertainty, he knew he had finally brought her home.
It had been worth it. God, it had been so worth it.
Her eyes welled up and she began sobbing when she saw Jim. "Jim, oh my God…"
Jim kissed her on the forehead and caressed her cheek. "It's OK, it's OK," he soothed.
"No, it isn't," she choked out.
"None of it was your fault, you had no choice," he whispered.
The wall was giving way.
"It doesn't matter," she got out between sobs. "I….I…."
The wall let go.
A look of pure horror crossed her face, and she screamed. Like a banshee out of hell, she screamed.
Jim recoiled. The psionic wave front of self-hate and pain she was putting off beat him down like a lash. The floor heaved wildly under him, instruments in the sickbay crackled and sparked, and the ship's alarm klaxon added its own wailing to Sarah's.
Matt stumbled to the nearest communications panel and stabbed a button. "Engine room, this is Captain Horner. Respond. Engine room, respond! Dammit!"
Jim had never demonstrated any psionic talent. He didn't understand how he was able to feel her psionically, but he figured it must have had something to do with her apparent psionic strength. He didn't know anything about psionic communication, and he suspected it was dangerous, especially with someone so powerful, but he had to do something. So, he did his best to reach out with his mind towards the screaming maelstrom of self loathing that was Sarah. "Sarah…"
He saw her shame, and she slammed him out of her mind with such force that he passed out for a moment. He came to with Matt shaking him.
"I can't get the engine room to respond. I'm going down there myself to try to help," he half shouted
"Go, I'll try to calm her down," Jim replied.
Her face was locked into a tooth grinding rictus, but her mind was locked up even tighter. She's killing herself, Raynor thought. I've got to do something.
He pushed towards her mind again, and he once again sensed her shame. He spoke into her mind, "Let me help you."
"NO! YOU CAN'T HELP ME," she thundered back.
"Sarah, don't do this to yourself."
"Back away from me. You'll die if you're too close when—"
Raynor cut her thought off. "Then at least we'll be together."
The mental stalemate between them held for what felt like an eternity to Jim, but probably lasted less than a second in reality.
The wall snapped back into place, and the deck quit heaving under him. Sarah's chest rose and fell rapidly with her labored breathing. Her forehead was slick with a cold sweat. Jim felt she was just barely in control. He wanted to help her. He was desperate to help her, to do anything to take the pain away, but he couldn't think of anything.
He cradled Sarah in his arms and wept for the evil that had been done to her.
XXXXXXXXXX
Jim got a shower, a meal, and four hours sleep. It was amazing how much such simple things could restore you.
He had to talk to Matt. Sarah was in need of some serious help and her apparently strengthened psionic abilities made her dangerous.
The hatch opened to admit Jim to the Hyperion's bridge. The bridge crew stopped to look at him. Jim couldn't tell if their gazes were full of accusation or pity, and he really didn't want to know either way. He went to the CIC and found Matt Horner there, staring down at ship's navigational display. Matt didn't even look up as Jim approached, but he spoke anyway.
"She can't stay on the ship, sir," Matt said flatly.
Jim sighed heavily. "I know, Matt. I wouldn't ask the crew to take this risk anyway."
"Where will the two of you go?" Matt hadn't even considered that Jim wouldn't go with her.
"I don't know. She needs help, Matt, but I don't know for sure who could help her. Her mind was twisted by the Zerg infestation. This is way beyond just getting her some therapy. She has deep psionic wounds that need to be dealt with."
"Sir, perhaps we should talk in a more private place," Horner said.
"Sure, Matt."
They left the bridge and took a lift down to one of the lower deck maintenance corridors that engineers used to do work on various systems in the ship. It was deserted. No one was around to hear the two of them except the gray neosteel walls, exposed conduit, wiring, plumbing, and other cod-wadding that made the ship run.
"Permission to speak freely, sir," Matt asked as they stepped out of the lift car.
"No need for formality Matt. Tell me what's on your mind."
"The only people I know of that could deal with her issues all work for the Dominion's Ghost program," Matt said.
"And they'll kill her on sight," Jim stated.
"Catch twenty-two. You may have to consider the possibility that you can't help her at all."
"No," Jim whispered. "I will help her, or I will die trying."
Matt sighed. "Jim, if it's all the same to you, we need a commander, not a dead hero figure. We need you here leading us."
Jim shook his head. "No you don't. Matt, you're perfectly capable of leading this flying circus without me."
"So you're quitting on the rebellion, then." It was more a statement than a question.
"No, dammit, I'm not," Jim snapped. "I'm just taking a short leave. I have to do this, Matt. Despite everything that has happened, she's a good woman, I've seen it in her. I've fought for damn near five years to bring her back to me, and I'm not giving up on her. Not now."
"But what do you think you can do?" Matt asked.
"Actually, I was thinking about trying to track down Zeratul. I can trust him to not kill her on sight, and his Dark Templar know a thing or two about psionic individuals. Problem is, I have no idea where to find him."
"You can find him," a deep thundering voice stated, "right here."
"Holy crap!" Matt exclaimed.
"Now, now, Matt," Jim chided with a big smile on his face, "that's not how you properly greet an honored Protoss guest." Jim turned to Zeratul's hulking form. "En Taro Tassadar, Zeratul."
"En Taro Tassadar, friend Raynor. What you have accomplished on Char is most impressive!" Zeratul said.
"The accomplishment belongs to my men." Jim shrugged. "In any case, I fear it could all be for nothing. She's…damaged, Zeratul. I don't know how to help her."
"But help her, you must," Zeratul said. "Her part in all of this is not over, nor is yours. Before you can heal her wounds, however, you first must heal your own wounds."
"Me?" Raynor asked. "What's wrong with me? And when did you become a therapist?"
Zeratul chuckled a bit. "It doesn't require a professional or a telepath to see clearly what's going on here. You carry a lot of guilt, old friend."
"And you think Sarah doesn't?" Jim said impatiently.
"The nature of the Terran soul is unique. When I first encountered Terrans I looked into their minds, and I saw weakness and foolishness."
"Thanks, I think," Matt put in. Jim glared at Matt.
"I did not see clearly, Captain Horner. I was terribly wrong in my assessment."
"Wow," Jim said. "A Protoss admitting he's wrong about something. Go figure."
"It would be fair to say that Terrans and Protoss alike share the failing of excessive pride," Zeratul said.
"What does this have to do with Sarah?" Jim asked.
"James Raynor, even now your heart breaks for her. It is written clearly upon your soul. It was just as clear years ago when we first met, but in my blindness, I did not see it. Your rage over Fenix's death in battle masked it as well. I did not realize how important this was, at the time," Zeratul said.
"I don't understand," Jim said.
"You know of the prophecy," Zeratul continued. "You know that the Queen of Blades is our only hope to stop the darkness from consuming us all. Even knowing this, no man, Terran or Protoss, could've accomplished what you have."
"You did not accomplish this feat with knowledge, cunning, or strength," Zeratul continued. "It was your unbreakable determination that carried you through. As you have said, some things are just worth fighting for. If she had not given you something to fight for, you may not have succeeded. But she did give you that something to fight for and that's why you carried on when almost everyone else gave up. From her time with the Zerg, she has gained invaluable powers that will allow her to resist the enemy. But the Terran spirit in her was first suppressed by the Overmind, and then broken by The Dark Voice. This must be set right."
"However, old friend, you cannot heal her guilt and shame while you walk around with so much of your own. What I am going to ask of you and your Queen is perhaps the hardest thing of all. You must both forgive yourselves," Zeratul said.
"I…can't," Jim grated. "I should've never trusted that bastard Mengsk. He left her. HE LEFT HER!" Jim shouted. "It was my fault all of this happened!"
"Mengsk has much to answer for, but that guilt is his. Not yours," Zeratul admonished.
"It's not that, Zeratul, it's…" Jim glanced at Matt. "I didn't come to Char to stop the Zerg. I didn't come to save lives, or to end the war. I came for her. I risked the lives of thousands of my men, and billions of Terrans in this sector just for her."
"On the contrary, saving lives is exactly what you came to do and it is well that you did. Perhaps you think you came only to save hers initially, but all great works have humble beginnings. Come, I have something I must show you," Zeratul said. "Captain Horner, if you could excuse us for a moment?"
"Jim," Matt said. "Are you going to be OK?"
"Yes, it's fine Matt," Jim replied. "Zeratul is a friend, you don't have to worry."
Without a word, Matt left, afraid for his friend.
XXXXXXXXXX
There was smoke, acrid air, and flowing lava fields.
He was back on Char.
Jim hovered, apparently disembodied, about fifty feet above the Xel'Naga artifact. There were Zerg everywhere. There were hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of the sons of bitches, as far as the eye could see. He could hear the sounds of the battle: the rapid fire crackling of his troops' Impaler rifles, the heavy booms of the Crucio tanks firing their heavy artillery, the screech of his Banshees making bombing runs against the advancing Zerg, and the heavy droning of two low-flying Minotaur class battlecruisers raining down laser-powered death. Impressive as all that firepower was, it wasn't enough.
With the Zerg, it never was.
He could also hear the screams. It was always the screams that he heard the most.
"They would have given up, without you here," he heard Zeratul say.
It was some kind of a vision, Jim realized. He was seeing this in Zeratul's mind. Or he was in his own mind and Zeratul was adding something to it. Jim wasn't sure, and it didn't much matter either way.
"The enemy moves against you," Zeratul said.
Jim's vision was directed up towards the sky, where he saw a being of terrible power. The Dark Voice, he had seen it in Zeratul's Ihan crystal. Its malevolent gaze bore down upon him and his men.
Jim looked down. The Zerg were pressing in closer. And then she came. The Queen of Blades in all her terrifying power emerged from her lair, and advanced upon his defenses.
"This is the battle as your human eyes interpret it. Now, allow me to show you the truth."
The world changed. The landscape was still there, so were his men, and so were the Zerg. But they looked…different. He could see their minds; the psionic energy that resided in every living being was visible to him. His men were like small, bright stars in the night sky. Some were brighter than others. The various Zerg were dimmer lights. Jim wondered if this was what the world looked like to psionics.
He looked upon the Queen of Blades. She was not what he had expected.
She appeared as an angel, blindingly bright, but she was caged by something. A dark, black halo surrounded her, keeping her chained. The evil darkness consumed her radiance so that very little of it escaped. A black tendril came off of the halo and reached towards the night sky, towards The Dark Voice.
"The enemy calls to the Zerg part of her. It chains her; just it chains all the Zerg." Zeratul said. "The Voice is a powerful psionic. It can affect the minds of your men."
Jim saw more tendrils drop from the sky, thousands of them. They engulfed each of his men, and their lights grew dimmer.
All except for one.
"The enemy cannot touch you, old friend. It is your unwavering dedication to a just cause that stops him. Your abiding devotion is the power of creation itself and an anathema to the enemy, whose power is only for destruction."
"The artifact's energy is peaking! Just hold out a little longer," he heard Matt Horner over the radio.
"Everyone hold fast! Stand your ground. Fight! Fight!" he heard himself shout. Jim's light pulsed brightly, sending a psionic wave that severed the tendrils the enemy had placed upon his men. It howled in rage, but was impotent to do anything. The tendril caging the angel weakened, and she called out.
"Don't give up Jim," she said. "Don't give up."
The artifact activated.
The cage around the angel was shattered, and she gleamed with the glory of a million suns. The enemy raged, but it was powerless to cage her any longer. Aside from its towering hatred, Jim sensed something else.
Fear. It feared the blazing angel that had just been loosed. The angel was beautiful and terrible. She was still human, still imperfect, but amazingly powerful. He saw in her the avatar of all humanity and its champion. She represented everything good about humanity. It was as if she was the sword in God's right hand, forged to execute justice against the darkness. For the first time in eons, the enemy knew fear.
His vision darkened.
XXXXXXXXXX
Jim woke up lying on his back, in the same maintenance corridor. A large, blue-gray hand came down. He took it.
"What just happened?" Raynor asked as Zeratul hauled him to his feet.
"I have shown you the battle as it was truly fought. Now, you understand. You claim that you came here only to save her, your human knowledge tells you that. But it is not what you know that matters. Rather, it is what you are that is important. What you seek, you shall find within. Trust the still, small voice in your soul, and it shall not lead you astray," Zeratul said.
Raynor looked confused, so Zeratul continued. "Had you not come to this desolate world and battled the enemy, there would surely be no hope to stop it," Zeratul continued. "Without freeing her from its influence, it would've had free reign. You have prevented that."
It was hard, it was so hard. Raynor hadn't know any of this when he made the decision to come back to Char. It was difficult to understand, but Zertaul was suggesting that some transcendent part of his own soul would always lead him right. It was a daunting concept, one that he could not really wrap his head around.
But he did not doubt Zeratul. The big Protoss had never once so much as hinted at deceiving him. Zeratul was good people, and he was honest and honorable to a fault. If Zeratul said it, Jim believed it.
Jim had a lot of guilt. He clung to it and had for years. "Maybe I should put those things away," he muttered.
Zeratul looked into Raynor's eyes. "It is more difficult to face the future than to cling to the past," he said. "Kerrigan was imprisoned, alone, in her mind for years and was very much alone even before then. She is strong, but not even such as she can face this future alone, James Raynor. Let us go to her."
XXXXXXXXXX
The Hyperion was built to human scale. Unfortunately for Zeratul, that meant he had to watch his head, especially when going through hatches, considering how large an adult male Protoss could get.
Crewmen stepped aside and stared as the two of them passed. Raynor had forgotten how comfortable he was around the Protoss. Most of his men were recent volunteers and had never so much as seen one and those who had had been in combat with them.
Raynor ran into Stetmann just outside the sick bay. "Hello, Commander I—errr…"
"Stetmann, allow me to introduce Zeratul, an old friend of mine," Jim said.
"I, uh, pleasure to meet you?" Stettmann said.
"He's not too eloquent, Zeratul," Jim said wryly.
"Indeed." Jim could hear the subtle humor in the big Protoss's voice.
"Is she awake?" Jim asked.
"Yes. She's not talking, though. She's just lying there, staring at the ceiling."
"Thanks Stetmann," Jim said as he opened the hatch.
Jim went to the side of Sarah's bed, and the Zeratul lumbered up behind him. She saw Zeratul and immediately became agitated. She kicked her feet frantically trying to get away from him. Her heart monitors showed her heart rate going through the roof, and she broke into a cold sweat. Cold fear; Jim had seen and experienced it enough times to recognize it.
"Easy, easy," Jim said. "He's OK. Trust me," he soothed. She was still transfixed on Zeratul, but she at least stopped fighting.
"En Taro Tassadar," Zeratul greeted her. The greeting was a bit on the cold side. Jim knew he was trying to be fair about the whole thing, but it would've required an absolute saint to not feel a little bit of anger towards Sarah. Whether her will was subverted or not, it was difficult for a person to see the face of what he considered the enemy and not have an instinctive reaction.
Still, Zeratul's greeting had been genuine despite his normal reaction to seeing the face of the Queen of Blades. Whatever else you might think of the Protoss, you've got to admit they always make a good entrance, Jim mused.
"Zeratul," she whispered. Recognition crossed her face, and then tears came. "Jesus. Aiur…Fenix…Raszagal." The memories were tearing into her and Jim's heart spasmed at her pain. That protective wall inside her mind was barely hanging on.
"Be at rest. Your risen God had nothing to do with any of those atrocities, nor did you. It will be hard for people to see that and understand it, but they will with time. Once, even I could not see that, but now I do. You remember the prophecy?" he asked.
She looked pensive. "Yes, I remember. I remember."
"There is more," Zeratul said. "I must show you."
Her eyes glazed over and she stared blankly ahead. Zeratul went completely still. Jim could only guess that he was doing something similar with Sarah that he'd done with himself when he showed Jim the last moments of the battle on Char.
"My God," she said. "It…created me. To free them? Free the Zerg? That doesn't make sense."
"It is true," Zeratul rumbled. "After the Overmind was slain, you were imprisoned in your own mind by the will of the enemy, just as the Overmind itself was imprisoned by him. It is the enemy that is responsible for the atrocities you remember."
She shook her head. "There were times when I…reveled in the power. I am not completely innocent here."
"No one is, Sarah Kerrigan," Zeratul replied.
"All those people that died. I just…" she starting sobbing. "Oh, God. You should've just…let me die!"
The words were like a hot knife through Jim's gut. He reached to cradle her, but she shoved him away.
"It was not your will that did those things," Zeratul said. "You can no more assume guilt for them than the guilty can cast away their responsibility for their crimes. The monster that controlled you is responsible, and no one else. But that monster is gone now. I admit, it might have been easier had you fell on the field of battle. But you are called to something greater, and great callings are usually difficult ones."
"Sarah," Jim whispered. "We need you. I need you. Let me help you."
"Who in the world could want to help me? I'm a freak. Murderer," she spat.
Jim released a painful sigh, one that had been pent up inside him since that day on Tarsonis. "Sarah, I mourned for you when I lost you. I grieved long and hard. Every time I saw that monster wearing your face, I died a little. I spent every day since I lost you trying to get you back, even though I thought it would prove impossible. Still, I never thought of anything else."
She looked into Jim's eyes, disbelief on her face.
"You must do this alone," Zeratul said. And with that, a black fog surrounded him, and after it dissipated, he was gone. Good at making an exit too, Jim thought.
Jim got up and locked the door to her room. He came back to her bedside and took her hand. He used his mind, and extended his presence tentatively towards her. "Sarah, let me help you." He could see that swirling maelstrom of self-loathing.
She roused to throw him out of her mind again, but she held back. She was like a wounded animal, too frightened to let anyone near. Jim caressed her cheek. "You can't face this alone. It's too much for any one person. You're not alone now, and never will be again. That's what you fear, isn't it? That you are so unclean somehow that no one could ever want you. Sarah, there's nothing in there you can show me that's going to change my mind about you."
She didn't believe him. Jim could feel that, but there was a lot of doubt tarnishing that dreadful certainty.
"I meant every word of it," he whispered softly.
She let him in. Jim saw it all. He saw everything. He saw the horrible violations wrought on her body by the Overmind. He saw the massacre of Confederate and Dominion troops. He saw sickening visions of men being eaten alive by nightmarish Zerg creatures. He saw the Queen of Blades herself murder Fenix. All the while, he heard Sarah screaming futilely in the background, imprisoned and unable to stop the Zerg part of her from committing endless atrocities in her name.
Her memories were dripping with debilitating guilt. There was something else, however. The memories of her time as a Zerg queen weren't the only genesis of her self-loathing. There was something more, something deeper.
He went deeper into her mind, and he found her. He found the very core of her tortured soul.
He saw her as she was before she was taken by the Zerg. She was backed into a corner, shying away from the world. She had wounds all over her as if she had been savagely beaten. Blood seeped through her tattered clothing, and her beautiful red hair was unkempt and filthy. She carried something in her hands, a box, with swirly, sinister looking designs on it. It looked like quite a heavy burden on her. She was having a great deal of trouble carrying it, yet she clung to it like it was life itself.
"Everyone hates me. Everyone is afraid of me," she said. "And they should be. They have no idea what I am or what I'm capable of. I'm not a person to be cared for, I'm equipment. A weapon to be used and discarded once it's outlived its usefulness. The Confederacy didn't care about me. They just wanted me for my talents. Arcturus Mengsk used me and discarded me like so much trash. The Zerg used me as a tool to commit endless crimes. It's all I'm good for," she sobbed. "No one could ever care about me, nor should they."
Jim knlet next to her. "You've been told that lie for so long you came to believe it." His voice hardened. "There are a lot of people who have a hell of a lot to answer for, but now's not the time. I care about you, Sarah, and I do want you. Regardless of what you've been told or you yourself believe, you're not something to be used and discarded. You're a person with feelings, hopes, dreams, and wants. Just like any other person."
"What do you want from me? What is your game?" she asked bitterly.
"No game," he replied simply. "Look at me. Look inside me. You will see the truth. I'll hold nothing back."
"It could kill you," she said.
"You won't hurt me," he replied with certainty.
She looked up into his eyes and saw him just as he had seen her. She saw his very soul, saw everything stripped away. She saw every imperfection, every flaw, but every good thing as well. She saw how long and hard he had grieved for her, and how he had kept himself only for her, unable to consider moving on to someone else. She went deeper, and she felt his love, for her.
It melted Sarah Kerrigan's abused and tortured heart.
Jim motioned towards her burden. "Let it go. I will never leave you. Let me take your burden."
She was tempted, but hesitated.
"Forgiving yourself is the hardest thing in the world," Jim said.
She handed her burden to him. He picked it up, and it was quite light. He felt a strong pull upwards, and next thing he knew he was smiling down at her by her hospital bed again.
Tears streaked her face, but he saw amazement in those eyes. She could scarcely believe that he'd just gazed upon every dark corner of her soul yet hadn't changed his mind about her, that he still desired to be with her. In her entire life, everyone she'd ever met had always wanted something from her, but not Jim. He really did want her solely for herself. She had trouble believing it, but her psionic talents had shown her the truth of how he felt and there was no denying it.
He leaned down and kissed her, deeply. His tongue sought out hers even as his mind sought the embrace of her mind again. He ran his hand gently through her tendriled hair. Despite its thickness and strength, it was surprisingly delicate and supple. They came up for a bit of air.
She latched onto his right hand with surprising strength and he saw pleading in her eyes. "Don't go."
"I won't," he said.
"Stay with me," she said.
"For as long as you need me," he replied.
And so he stayed. He enfolded her in his arms protectively, as if he held the most precious thing in the world. As far as he was concerned, he truly did.