The Second Turning Point
by Satinette

Every relationship has its seminal moments, turning points to new directions. These are those missing seminal moment Mel/Cole scenes from "The Plague," Cole's POV, which occurred (but weren't shown) after the last scene and before the tag. Spoilers for that episode and those which came before. References to my previous fics, "Hot Pursuit" and "I Know."

Author's Note: For Mel and Cole, two people who are drawn together yet who are literally alien to each other, their first major seminal moment came in the Pilot when Cole brought her back from the brink of death. Their second came in "The Plague" after the last scene shown in the motel room and before the tag. Although the episode itself only gave hints at the tag's very end ("I'm kind of getting used to having you around." "And I'm kind of used to being around, Mel..."), it's obvious from how they were starting to view each other – from Mel becoming less quirky in her reactions to him to the sea-change in their relationship by the following episode ("The Beast") – that something profound must have happened between them. This is my take on it.

Some Background Story Notes: Mel is an interesting character, although very little is actually learned about her past during the course of the series. Among the scant few references there are the following:

In "Trust" when Vic is telling her about Lina Tavoulis being "a bit of a party girl," Mel comments: "I can identify with that. Only without the money."
In "The Plague" Cole notes: "Jess said that ... you took your father's car once without a license."
In "The Miracle" Mel mentions to Cole in passing that: "My specialties in school were cutting class and picking up my teachers."

For more detail one must look to the series bible'. Here it's learned that when she was seven her father's company transferred him to London to set up a new division and he left her in the care of his mother. Within two years he had remarried and had another child and his new wife didn't want Mel around. Thus she was raised by her grandmother and only saw her father during summers and Christmas vacations.

Poor Mel. What a horrible stepmother she had, rejecting her husband's daughter so cruelly. And what a miserably selfish and disgusting excuse for a man her father must have been to go along with it and abandon his little girl. And he wasn't being very kind to his mother, either. (In "Breach" it was learned that she'd run a speakeasy. Since speakeasies existed during Prohibition in the 1920s and 30s, the woman had to have been quite elderly, well into her seventies at very least. No matter how much she loved her granddaughter, no matter how close they were, it had to have been a hardship for her). As an unwanted throw-away' child it's no wonder that Mel, as the bible' says, "grew up confused and aimless and spent her young adulthood going through a series of meaningless jobs and meaningless men."

All this not only explains a great deal about her, it's where the tale she tells Cole in this story comes from.

Chapter 1

Her ashen face shimmered in front of me as I rushed to her side. She looked haunted, her hair a wildly disarrayed mess, her eyes bleakly huge in their sockets, blasted with soul-deep horror.

First with one hand, then for a few moments with both, I reached for her throat, for that strong yet elusively unidentifiable connection I've felt with her from the beginning, hoping that connection wasn't solely of my own imaginings and that she could sense it as well, allowing the comfort of my soothing energies to freely flow into her ungoverned and unrestrained.

But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

Or it wasn't what she really needed.

Her trembling hands moved to my face, small hesitantly fluttering touches that then landed in my hair and stroked across my neck before dropping down to my shoulders in a sudden vise-like grip. Ragged, broken sobs tore from somewhere deep within as she threw her arms around me and buried her face in my chest.

Unsure what she wanted of me in this unfamiliar Human embrace, what I should do or even where I should be putting my hands, I awkwardly slid one arm around her, finally deciding to place a hand at the small of her back.

Mel fit very well against me and was surprisingly easy and comfortable to hold, and in some small way I found that touching her like that seemed to provide me with a measure of comfort and reassurance.

Yet the acrid scent of her fear still clung to her, stinging in my nostrils.

Was I mistaken? Had I actually gotten there too late?

I carefully moved my hand up the length of her spine, tracing along the delicate nerve endings there, filling her with as much resonant warmth as I could as I tried to read her. But her species was still very new and wholly alien to me and the signals I was getting weren't at all clear.

"Mel? Are you all right?" I asked, dreading that she wasn't.

She lifted her head at that and hitched her breath and at first I thought that she had calmed and was about to answer, but then I realized that she was withdrawing in on herself, sinking into a state of shock. Whether this was because she may have been raped and infected, or whether it was due to my sheer viciousness during this first Collection she'd ever witnessed – or even a combination of both – I had no way of yet knowing.

Tevv had gone as amok as a starving lorcolm pulled off of its kill and my fears for Mel's safety in what he was trying to do to her – but mainly my rage at my own stupidity in allowing her to become the lure in this Track to begin with – had come to the fore in answer, surging up from that same dark place I had so recently forced it back into. It was a ravening beast, insatiable and unstoppable, turning me brutal in my methods. I had never wanted Mel to ever see me like that but her life had been at stake and I had to prevail against the Nodulian at any cost.

"Breathe deeply and just look at me, Mel," I told her, cupping her face, trying to force some awareness into the glazed and frightened blue-green eyes that were but a handspan from my own, unable to tell if my words were fully registering or how far into shock she might go.

Again her breath hitched, a little deeper than before.

"Yes. That's right," I encouraged. "That's good. Take another deep breath. Just breathe."

I've handled such traumatic reactions many times before and knew I had to get her out of there, take her someplace warm and safe and quiet and far away from prying eyes before the lethargy wore off and counter-reaction set in.

She looked terrible, yet to me she still looked very beautiful, strange alien creature that she is. Her hair had escaped most of its pins and fallen forward over part of her face, almost completely covering one eye. As I watched she automatically ran the shaky fingers of one hand through her wild circus of curls, pushing them back.

I felt a sudden strong urge to do that for her but I managed to control myself. Instead, I took hold of her hands. They were as cold as Enixian ice and seemed so very small and fragile in mine, yet somehow I'd never thought of them as such.

"We can't stay here," I gently told her, nodding toward the fast-cooling body of the battered and broken Human host. "People have heard this. They are coming."

She began to gnaw on her lower lip but gave no indication that she was aware of either me or of the cries of alarm and the fast-approaching footfalls coming from outside the motel room. Someone was even shouting to someone else to call the police but, from the distant sounds of nearing sirens, I was reasonably certain that had been done already.

Tevv hadn't gone either easily or quietly.

"Mel? Can you hear me? We have to leave here," I said. But she might as well have been sleepwalking for all her response.

I lifted her head from under her chin so I could fully look into her face again. When my eyes met hers I all but yanked my hand away as if it had been scorched. The blank emptiness her gaze had become was horrifying. There were no emotions there any more, not even fear.

She didn't even blink when I began to shake her by the shoulders.

Nothing. There was no sign that she was aware of me at all.

I hated to move from her side for even an instant but we were fast running out of time. I turned and gathered up her coat and purse, then quickly looked around to be certain that nothing telling would be left behind, wiping down anything she may have touched. By the time I turned back to her she was just standing there, staring sightlessly ahead, but she had picked up the kra'ait with its collected sample of Tevv's blood.

At least she's still capable of some positive reaction, I thought with profound relief as I reached to take it from her. She was clutching it so tightly to her breast I was afraid she might stab herself with one of its exsanguination points, but her fingers were locked, refusing to relinquish their grip.

"Mel? Please? Just let me have..." I began, but the words died in my throat.

There were three Humans just outside the door with still more coming, and then the unmistakable sound of metal against metal as keys were being tried in the lock. Our time had just run out and we had to leave.

Although I was weakened and wouldn't be regenerated for many solar hours yet I was far from being without options.

Taking her hand I started to move us towards the door to get into position, gratified that she followed my steps. At least I wouldn't have to carry her. Letting go of her, I continued moving ahead and then stopped as I realized that she wasn't following along with me.

I began cursing under my breath. Vardian is a very guttural language, perfect for cursing, and I think I used every epithet I knew as I returned to her side to continue walking her along. Again she automatically followed my lead unresisting and unquestioning, taking each step like a mindless puppet. Then as the door began to swing open I seized her around the waist, pulling her into zip speed with me.

The only thing those Humans might have been aware of was a vague distortion of the air and a brief draft as we passed, the sensation of something rapidly moving by them. They would never know what caused it, never even suspect.

Several moments and several city blocks away from any chance of discovery I dropped us out of zip, safe within the hidden shelter of the recessed entryway of a boarded-up shop. All my reserve energies were then depleted, but it had been enough.

I took a few extra moments to peer out from our sanctuary and check down Sheraton Street toward the motel. An unmarked patrol car went screaming by, its portable hood light strobing, followed by an EMS ambulance and then a marked patrol car. In addition to the authorities, multitudes of Humans were assembling to gawk at the mayhem we'd left behind, a favorite spectator sport of this species.

Even as I watched, more and more sirens were beginning to converge there, their red and yellow roof lights spinning, painting the night with bright revolving streaks. And still more were coming. Perhaps Mel's Detective friend was even among them.

While the day had been almost tolerably warm an unseasonable cold snap had come with the night's intermittent rain, the dampness sinking deep into my marrow as it began to rain yet again. I shivered, silently cursing this damp and chill little world. This was still the summer, the warm season in this climatic zone, yet even on what were called the hottest days it never became truly warm enough for me. But then, it has been many years since I've felt warm enough. I dreaded to think of what the cold season, the winter, would be like here.

Turning my full attention back to Mel I guided her deeper within the recessed entry. First I gently pried her fingers free from their grip on the kra'ait, then stored it within me before bundling her up in her coat. She was quite deep into shock by then, unresponsive and unawares, and I had to manipulate her arms into the sleeves and turn up her collar for her.

I found myself wishing that I knew her secret, the deep inner well from which the she had drawn the breathtaking courage and determination to enter the fray just to obtain that needed blood sample. It hadn't been fearlessness by any means for clearly she'd been terrified. I knew it had to have been something far stronger, something far deeper, something that refused to allow her to cave into her fears at the very moment when it counted. And I had to admire her for I was aware that it was the exact same core of strength and courage that had permitted her to invite me into her car at the beginning.

All the while I was trying to decide where could I take her and how we might get there. Her car was parked a good distance away in the alley behind Club Crucible and it was inadvisable we take a taxi there, especially with her in this state. Certainly I could pretend that she'd had too much to drink, but if she happened to snap out of it along the way there might well be a problem. The counter-reactions to trauma can sometimes be extreme and erratic, very emotional and even wholly irrational, the pendulum wildly swinging until it finds its proper steady rhythm and equilibrium is regained. And I knew that such would likely be the case with Mel because she is a high-strung and excitable female to begin with.

Either way, there would be a chance we'd attract too much attention – or at least be remembered – and I thought it best we attract as little notice as possible.

And if she didn't snap out of it by the time we got there, we'd have another problem: I can't yet drive.

It's almost embarrassing, really. I can pilot a star-cruiser through the thick of an asteroid belt but I'm having trouble mastering these ridiculously archaic vehicles. This world often makes me feel as ignorant and unknowledgeable as a newborn child but, in this place and within the culture of this primitive species, in many ways I suppose I am and likely always will be.

What I really wanted to do was take us directly home but the Watchfire was an even further distance away and, for much the same reasons of attracting unwanted attention or of being remembered, we couldn't take that risk.

It was then that I realized that we didn't have to go anywhere at all. This boarded-up store was abandoned, out of business, and we could probably stay right there inside for quite some time with none any the wiser.

Within moments I had the door open and carefully sensed the interior, finding it relatively warm and dry and, just as important, free of any electro-magnetic emanations that would indicate the presence of cameras or a security system. From the barren racks and empty glass cases pushed to the sides and the hangers scattered about on the floor, I gathered that it had once been a clothing store of some kind, but for now it would serve as our refuge.

I lead Mel in and by the light of an alleyway lamp filtering in through the high rear windows settled her on an overstuffed sofa-chair toward the back near the row of try-on rooms.

A Collection always leaves me on edge and more or less unbalanced, a highly unpleasant side effect of having the soul of another lifeforce travel through my own. I felt the usual strong need for solitude to allow the feelings and impressions to pass and give myself the chance to settle – but my taking that time alone to re-center from Tevv's taint was not an option. Instead, I tried to ignore its crawling sensation and busied myself with making Mel as comfortable as I could.

Knowing by then that she was always meticulous about her grooming, I removed the last of the useless pins from her badly messed hair and raked it out of her face, combing it back with my fingers and tucking it behind her ears as I studied her, trying to gauge how long she might remain in this withdrawn state.

Only a few more minutes? Perhaps even a few hours?

It was impossible to tell. For now she needed to be alone within herself and I had to grant due respect to that. Her strength was her own and it came from within, not from anyone else, and she just needed a chance to draw upon it and in her own time. There was nothing I could do except be there for her – this time really be there for her – when and if she needed me.

Because I was all too well aware that I almost wasn't.

From their first meeting Mel hadn't thought very much of Nestov, not liking him at all. Her instincts about him were, as I'm finding they are with many things, quite accurate. Due to the self-involved Desserian not paying proper attention as ordered and maintaining his watch over her, Tevv managed to spirit her away. I myself hadn't realized there was a problem until my sense of her proximity had begun to fade.

Fortunately, Mel is not just unusually stubborn and strong-willed even for a female, she is also very smart and resourceful and was able to clue me to her general whereabouts. But once in the vicinity my sense that she was nearby had become so strong, so clear, that the waves of her mounting terror crashed over me like the poundings of a heavy surf and scoured me raw, making it impossible to obtain a fix on her exact location.

But had I gotten there on time? I asked myself again. Or had I been too late? Had she already been raped by the time I got there? Had Tevv just been finishing with her?

In my mind's eye I tried to visualize the scene in the motel room as it was when I came in: Mel's frantic struggles on the bed ... Tevv's hands pulling her skirt up around her hips and tearing at her clothing ... the weight of his body pinning her down, forcing her into submission...

I couldn't be certain about anything that was happening or that might have already happened beyond that, couldn't be certain if that was all there was of it.

But there was still a way for me to find out.

Again and again I slowly passed my hands over her, carefully scanning her from head to foot, seeking any hint of contagion, any traces of Tevv having succeeded in infecting her with the virulent disease he carried. But although I found nothing, although she seemed to be perfectly healthy and whole, I was so destabilized that I wasn't certain if I could trust my own senses.

I know all about every nuance of fear, from the inside and the out, from feeling it to causing it. Fear is one of my oldest and most stubbornly loyal companions, one that dwells deep inside me and, every so often, makes its presence known, always unbidden, unwanted and unwelcome. Usually I'm well skilled at controlling it, even harnessing it to my advantage, but it was mounting within me then, gaining its grip on Tevv's taint, and I was helpless to rein it in. It coiled heavily in my gut, its sour taste rising like bile in the back of my throat, crippling me, rendering me incapable of making myself calm enough, centered enough, open enough for a wholly accurate reading.

But for then I had to trust my readings for, yet again, there was nothing else I could do.

I claimed Mel's hairbrush from her purse, determined to staunch my impotent anxiety with activity, however mundane.

"I've used up all my energies, Mel," I told her by way of conversation as I carefully began to work the tangles from her hair. "You know what that means, don't you? It means I'm very hungry and I ... have to refuel. I have to eat. You don't want to miss that, do you, Mel? You so love to tease me about how much I eat..."

A fine, almost imperceptible tremor coursed through her.

Or maybe I just imagined it.

"Mel?"

There wasn't the slightest response, only a brief quickening of the rain outside.

Completely withdrawn by then she didn't even respond to her own name. I doubted if she were even capable of moving on her own anymore.

My hands were beginning to shake a little. I squeezed them together to keeping it from showing.

How could I have let her do this? I began to berate myself. How could I have let her be the lure on this Track, no matter that it had been her own idea and she had stubbornly insisted? Why had I allowed it? Why had I meekly permitted her to take the lead yet again, bowed to her wishes in the matter just as I'd done with Collecting Kaden only a few weeks before? Why was this alien female causing me to disregard my common sense?

I studied her features as though I might somehow find the answers there. By the alley's lamplight her hair was shining in a golden-red nimbus around her head. Her face was very pale with dark circles staining the areas beneath her eyes. And there was a small purpling bruise marring the left corner of her mouth, underscoring her fragility.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, Mel," I grimly promised her. "Not ever again."

While I accept full blame for endangering her by deliberately seeking her out, by manipulating her into taking me in and then by asking for her help, the fact remains that in this time and on this world she has become both my anchor and my refuge. She's all I have. And in having chosen to involve her I cannot betray the trust she has in turn placed in me to keep her safe from harm. I will do whatever is necessary, destroy anyone or anything and do any underhanded thing in any underhanded way I must in order to assure that.

I cannot fail her in this.

I cannot allow myself fail again.

I healed the bruise for her, then cupped her face in my hands to gaze into the emptiness of her eyes.

"You really can't hear me, can you, Mel? You're far, far away now, aren't you? ... It's okay... It's all right. Everything will be fine. I'm here. I'll always be here."

The instincts of this body told me to keep touching her, to maintain physical contact, to connect, and to continue speaking as if she could hear my every phrase and was interested in my every word. I gathered her against my chest, one arm around her slim waist, a hand in her hair, tucking her head beneath my chin to provide her with a sheltering cocoon, continuing to say anything that sounded soothing and comforting.

At least talking is another sort of connection. And in truth I hadn't the slightest idea what else I could do for her. Or for myself. So I kept on talking.