Tranquility
He watches her out the corner of his eye, her movements mechanical but precise as she runs her fingers over the control panel, manipulating the ship to her bidding. She is efficient, she always has been, and almost flawless. He hopes she will never quite reach that absolute perfection, he has no doubt she'll be darn close, but her inner-self shone in diversity. Imperfection was her humanity.
To his remorse, the dark circles under her eyes were another indicator of her humanity. Two days of shore leave had no doubt left its mark on her pale skin, her exhaustion evident. Not to the rest of the crew, she was a master at hiding it. You had to really know her, to know that she never slept onshore.
His mind triggered to that horrible night that had taught him that lesson.
The night had been dead calm. He had laid by her side, on the edges of a deed sleep, exhausted after their activities. His vague consciousness could hear every little nuance of the stillness. The fridge humming, the clock ticking, the shuffle of the sheets and the creak of the bed. Calmness. Stillness. But something was wrong. Something kept him from falling asleep that night.
She did not move beside him, but he knew instinctively that her eyes were wide and alert. He could hear her breathing change from an even tone, to harsher shallow breaths. He felt the bedding shift as her fists latched around the sheet, squeezing them as she struggled to remain still. He moved to reach out to her, to comfort her, but his shift catapulted her out of bed, the bathroom door slamming behind her as he heard the unmistakable sound of her retching.
He swallowed the lump in his throat as his mind had struggled to comprehend the events. He hesitate for a moment, before propelling himself from the bed and creaking open the ajar door as he made his way towards her.
When she looked up at him, he saw the unmistakable fear in her eyes and he gasped, shocked to see such terror in the usually assured woman before him.
"Kate" he ventured softly, bending down towards her to match her place on the floor. She moved instinctively out of his reach, the fear slowly retreating from her eyes as her panic slowly subsided.
"Don't," she pleaded as she struggled to pull herself up from the floor, he reached out a hand to help her, but she turned away, her shaky legs betraying the steeled determination on her features.
"Kate" he began again softer, concerned.
When she looks up at him, her eyes are cold.
"I just had a reaction to dinner," she stated, the lie flowing easily from her lips "That's all" she stated coldly, her eyes warning him to drop it.
He knows an ultimatum when he sees it. Drop it or leave. The ultimatum was as evident as her lie.
He gives a brief nod as he encloses his hand around hers "Then let's get you back to bed" he placates and she nods, relaxing as she follows him.
He just puts his head down on the pillow when he hears her switch on the alarm radio by her head.
That was the last night he could remember sleeping in silence.
Mike manages to snap himself out of his haze, as he re-focused his attention back to the bridge, to his work.
The thing about patrol boats.
The thing about navy boats.
There is never dead silence.