A/N: Yes I know, I am a hopeless. Posting another new story when I already have two on the go (Truth is I have about ten seriously on the go). But this is a system that works for me. I don't focus on just one thing very well for very long. Switching between multiple stories at once might seem complicated and unnecessary but it is actually easier for me. When I get stuck on one, I just move on to another…no struggling to push though a roadblock needless…when I come back to the first one again, I'm usually all set to continue easily. Plus I have far too many ideas in my head, than could be expended on just one story, so it works in that way too. And is anyone here really going to complain about more last ship fics being written? ;-D

Disclaimer: I don't own Last Ship.

LSLSLSLS

"Am I going to have to threaten to throw your work overboard again?"

Rachel met his gaze with a less than uncomprehending one of her own, yet as expected, continued her protestations to his clear accusation. Even as they both knew he was very much on to her.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Captain."

"That's bullshit!" He saw her flinch at his raised voice, a tone he had not used on her since the day the Russians had first attacked. Since he had first learnt the truth about her presence on his ship…and she had not flinched then, quite the opposite.

Taking note of the extremely uncharacteristic reaction, he willed his anger down in an effort to proceed more gently with her, but the hard edge was still present on his slightly softer-spoken words when he continued.

"Something else happened in Baltimore, Rachel. After we were separated. I know it and you now it. Something as bad or worse than Granderson's extermination camp, and as much as I am struggling to think how that is even possible or what on earth it could be, it was written all over yours and Alisha's faces when we got you out of that compound. Now I want…No… I need to know what you are both actively keeping from me. What happened to 'I know I kept secrets from you before, but I will always be straight with you now'?"

There was a long pause as it looked like she was actually considering his appeal, though her decision coming down on the contrary side of his preference apparently.

"I'm sorry, Captain…I can't."

She still refused to give him so much as the barest semblance of what he was sure were some very pertinent facts.

Rachel noticed he had taken to calling his subordinate lieutenant, Alisha, instead of Granderson. She could understand why, as that moniker was now the name of two significant but distinctively different entities in all this. You really wouldn't want to confuse one with the other.

Tom did notice that at least she seemed to be admitting that the two of them were hiding something, which he supposed was progress.

"It's not my secret to tell...at least not mine alone. Alisha is the one with the most, both personally and emotionally, at stake here. It was her mother who…" She stopped dead in her tracks then, snapping her mouth shut, realizing what she had been about to give away…what confidence she had been about to break… No, she couldn't. She had made a promise to a very desperate young woman to keep her silence, and because of that promise she needed to do just that.

For herself, she was more torn. Part of her was right there with Alisha, and wanted the events of Baltimore to remain hidden from the light of day forever, didn't want people to know…to look at her differently.

Another part of her wanted the Captain to know what they had gone through…what she had gone through… Maybe he would understand, hold her, tell her it was all ok, make everything better. Maybe he could make all the pain go away.

Or maybe not…

She had to remember that she was not the only one in pain right now...and his had to be far worse…. He had come back without his wife. He had lost her…for good, and Rachel knew she bared no small amount of responsibility in that. Aside from any promises made, any personal preference on her part, she genuinely did not want to contribute to making this terrible time any more difficult for him…and she knew that was most assuredly what her words would do.

"It was her mother who what?" He tried again.

Rachel's only answer was to close her jaw even more firmly, lower her head and weakly shake it to indicate the negative.

Tom, still angry and still trying to reel in his tumultuous and numerous contemplations…. took a mental step back to study the woman before him more closely.

He didn't like what he saw.

Battered and bruised, her every small movement ginger and careful. Though he was assured all her injuries were superficial... Looking at her now he hoped he could trust that assurance. Some of her injuries he knew had been sustained after their hasty reunion, sustained between getting out of that stronghold in Baltimore and getting back on the ship…and getting the ship itself, back.

But most…most he knew had been present before, the massive darkening bruise that seemed to cover the entire left side of her face. Her beautiful lips…split in several places… And he could have sworn he had seen the beginning's of numerous bruises running down the lengths of both arms…but they were covered now…and hugging her body.

Completing his visual inventory of her small battered form, he decided it was most decidedly her eyes that were giving him the most worrisome pause. The few times she did let them drift towards his, she quickly lowered them again when they met with his intense stare.

Everything about that reaction was wrong…the woman before him didn't cower or submit before anyone… much less him. She was strong, independent, confident…everything he did not see in her right now. Now she looked weak, broken…lost.

Something bad had happened in Baltimore, aside from the evils he had discovered for himself. He knew she had learned on her own what Olympia really was. She had freely explained how she had discovered their atrocities, confronted Granderson, received the super villain explanation and then been imprisoned when she had refused to continue to work for them. It was clear to him, that however distressing those discoveries and the proceeding conflicts were, they were not the main cause of her current torment... Something that happened afterwards was. And the fact that she wouldn't tell him what it was, only made his speculative thoughts all the more horrific in nature.

She really wasn't doing him any favors by keeping this to herself. He was quite sure that his mind was running away on its own, in all the more dire directions, because of the lack of actual information it had available to it.

Well, he hoped his mind was running away with him…but he wasn't convinced it was.

He briefly considered questioning Alisha again, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. If Rachel was uncharacteristically emotionally fragile…his Lieutenant was a complete emotional wreck. During their short little tête-à-tête, she had steadfastly refused, just like Rachel, to provide him with the barest facts behind their mutual torment, all the while trying…and failing…to keep from weeping uncontrollably in his presence. He had seen enough to clearly know that the one thing Rachel that had confessed too was correct… Alisha had caught the brunt of whatever it was…at least emotionally, and as it was clear her Mother was somehow involved in whatever had been done to them, he could well understand how that could happen.

Her injuries…while also only superficial and non-life threatening…were still quite numerous in number, and meant she was on stand down from active duty for the time being. Something he was grateful for actually…not the fact that she was injured of course…but the fact the he had an easy excuse for her to be off active duty. He didn't want to have to stand her down due to her emotional state…but if things carried on and her physical injuries healed before her emotional ones, he would simply have no other choice. The woman was a complete mess right now…and without the knowledge of what had made her like that…he felt absolutely powerless to help.

Becoming more aware with every moment, how newly fragile the woman before he really was, he decided to change tact, try and let go of his anger as much as he could. It wasn't like a single shred of it was actually caused by Rachel and her secret anyway…so he should not direct it at her. He was frustrated with her and her refusal to talk, yes, put not remotely angry.

No, his anger was almost completely directed at people back from whence they came…Baltimore, and a fair portion, at himself as well, for trusting those people to start with. He should have seen that something was very wrong, but he hadn't, and people had suffered for his misguided trust and hope. Somehow, looking at Rachel now, he just knew he was going to be a whole lot angrier with those people before this was really and truly over.

"Rachel…please, I want to help you…I hate seeing you like this."

Again she seemed to consider his words, for a moment she even seemed torn on how to reply to him…but not for long. Once again, he watched as she visibly stamped down on her indecision…this time a tear and a sob escaped as she spoke.

"I'm sorry…I just can't." Another sob followed…and another. Multiple tears stains now scattered over her red tinged cheeks.

He had made her cry. A woman he hadn't been certain even knew how, and he had made her cry right in front of him. That wasn't actually fair, he knew well that she felt and cared deeply, and tears were probably not something foreign to her at all after recent and semi recent events…

But everything about the woman he knew, told him she would usually rather chew off her own arm than let herself be seen in such a weak and vulnerable state...by anyone… He wished he could believe she trusted him enough to think that he might be an exception to that rule…but he very much suspected that he wasn't. She was just so overwrought right now that she couldn't hold it in any longer, despite his unwanted presence.

He felt like the biggest bastard on earth for pushing her to this. He had continued to pursue her about this with the aim of helping her…and what had he achieved? The exact opposite.

"No, Rachel…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to upset you like this. It was not my intention…at all. Believe me, please… Forgive me, please..." With his words he moved a few small steps forward, bringing him much closer to her slightly broken form, where she was practically pressed against the steel bulkhead. He stopped at a still respectful distance, he didn't actually want to, but he suspected caution was the best way to handle the invading of her personal space right now.

He watched her use the sleeve of her oversized wooly jumper to dry her face and eyes as much as she could. She appeared to be trying to pull herself together with great effort, to cease her show of weakness as fast as possible.

"No…Tom, there is nothing to forgive you for. I am the one who should be apologizing…God…you have just lost your wife and here I am playing the victim…"

He didn't think she was doing any such thing…seemed more like she was relentlessly trying to do the opposite, actually.

"Oh god, I feel like such an insensitive cad, here I am barely holding it together, and here you are with a whole lot more reason to be falling to absolute pieces, and you are totally keeping it together…how?"

"I loved my wife, Rachel…"

"Oh God! Oh God! No! No, I did not mean to suggest that you didn't! Of course you did! No! When I said that you were holding it together well, I wasn't insinuating the you didn't love her enough, oh god… I would never…I mean, you have to believe… Oh god, I am saying everything wrong…"

As he watched even more tears threaten to fall, Tom made the quick decision to do away with the previous invisible barrier that he had been the one to erect between them. With a single stride forward, he reached out for her, his large hands coming to rest softly, and he hoped comfortingly, on her small shoulders…he was careful to be mindful of her injuries, even in this heated emotional encounter of theirs.

"Rachel! Rachel, stop! I wasn't chastising you. If you would let me finish, I was saying that I loved Darien…deeply, but in many ways it feels like I lost her a long time ago. It has been so many months since we left Norfolk, and for these long weeks since the first attack, it has seemed like realistic hope was not a luxury that could be taken to the bank. I still always hoped for the best of course…but I have been preparing for the worst some time now. Learning that I only really lost her a mere few days ago feels completely surreal to me…in so many ways it feels like so much longer. And as I said, I had been preparing for the worst…the very worst, and that worst-case scenario was that I had lost all of them…all my family, including my children…but I have them back now, along with my Dad. Against all odds, I have my babies back with me…and they are healthy…because of you! That is one hell of a consolation prize, Rachel."

As he looked deeply into her features from his much greater height at this close distance, he could see that she was considering his words carefully…but skeptically. Determining if he was only humoring her fragile emotional state with lies, perhaps?

"Rachel, I am telling you the truth." He carefully raised the hand closest to the undamaged side of her face and gently caressed her cheek…catching and removing and a single tear that chose that moment to fall. While maintaining all his focus on her eyes, he used all his might to stop himself from seeing the blackness that surrounded the left one, lest his anger return, and again be directed at the person least deserving of it.

"You believe me, don't you?" She had to believe him.

"Yes, and I'm sorry, genuinely, not just for before, but for your wife…I never did offer my condolences properly and I realize now what a terrible oversight that was. You are always so focused on the wellbeing of others…I feel someone should be focused on yours." She didn't mention that she would very much like it if that someone was allowed to be her…but that was so not appropriate...and so not the time anyway.

"Are we ok?" He had to make sure the beautiful, but indefinable and fragile thing they were, was in no way damaged moving forward.

"Yes, Tom, we're ok." Her beautiful face was damaged, but smiling, it was still enchanting to him.

"Are you ok, really?"

"Yes, Tom, I'm ok…I promise." And with those words and a weak but trusting and reassuring smile, that had be the end of it…for now.

TBC

A/N: I would really like to hear what everyone thinks… :-)