Disclaimer: Blah…I don't even want to say it. However, I don't own Star Trek…any of them, really. I'm much too young, and not even studying the right field to begin to even dream of owning it…thanks for the consideration though.
A/N: …Have a cookie. You'll need it.
She doesn't understand.
He's standing in front of a large fire that could easily consume their entire world, and his eyes, blue as the world and ocean, and nebula with too much light, turns dark, mysterious and broken. He takes the goblet into his hand, and he pointedly doesn't look at her
"Why are you doing this?!" she asks, demands, in a language she knows he'll understand, but no one else will. He's not Jesus, or any other deity, and he shouldn't feel the compulsion to fucking save her. She's not a damsel in distress and she's well adept at taking care of herself. He shouldn't risk himself like this. He's the goddamn captain of the Enterprise. He shouldn't even be here with her, but he is…and he's going to die for her.
He will pay the penance, like a father too desperate to spare his own children from the sins he knows they committed. He will drink their poison, and feel their pain. He will step between them and the evil queen, the wicked wizard, or even the devil. And if you really want to know…it's pissing her off.
His hands, strong and steady, shouldn't lift that goblet to his lips, ready to take whatever punishment she should be suffering.
She asks again.
And he finally pauses, finally gives her a glance, eyes bright and glinting and too blue for the human mind to understand. He pulls the goblet away from his mouth, and she can see his lips are glinting from the firelight, liquid amber, gold, silver, death glistening on his skin as his cheeks drain color.
It's too late, and she knows this as he flashes his almost painfully white teeth at her, trying to reassure her, but only serving to remind her of that farmboy hoping to get lucky the first night he met her, so fake and hopeless, that even she had smiled, because it was a good act; it almost had her fooled. She tries to smile back, but she fails…so hard she fails, because this isn't the same.
He's going to die this time.
Christopher Pike isn't going to save him. These natives aren't going to 'take it easy on him.' Len isn't going to be able to patch him up on a shuttle that the doctor is scared to death of.
The Enterprise won't come through for him this time.
He will have no reprieve.
"Why are you doing this?" she asks for a third time still in a language the natives don't understand, with tears in her eyes as she sinks to her knees, hoping beyond hope that someone will figure out whatever problem is happening with the Enterprise. She can't watch this. She can't live through this.
Only she knows that she will.
She will survive…and he will not.
Because…
"No one will miss me the way he would miss you."
She wants to argue. She wants to tell him he's wrong, that he's just a stupid farmboy, and he's talking out of his ass, as per usual.
But he's made up his mind.
His eyes, blue as acidic fire, dull, and fizzle out as he brings that goblet to his lips once more, no longer looking at her, no longer registering what, precisely, it is that he happens to be doing. Of course, he knows that he's dying, or that he will be soon, but as of now…
…as of now, he's pretending to take a drink of Romulan ale, and he kind of enjoys the taste, but it's against the rules, and she glares disapprovingly at him, pretending tears aren't swimming on her lower lashes, pretending for a moment that they're just back at the Academy and that this will have no effect on them.
Tomorrow, he will come to class and be lacking a hangover…
They both pretend that they're at Riley's bonfire, and that he's doing some ridiculous dance with Len, and she's gossiping with Gaila and Christine.
Tomorrow, she will degrade him in a language she pretends he has no idea how to speak, and he will smile like he thinks she's paying him the best compliment any god has ever spoken…
They will pretend for this moment that this is…common place; it's just a joke…
He upends the goblet and closes his eyes as the last drop falls onto his tongue, and she is still there, on her knees, still crying, stuck somewhere between what this used to be like and what it really is. He's not really going to be here tomorrow. She doubts he'll even be here in five minutes…
But it helps to fool herself, because she doesn't want to cry in front of this alien civilization.
More importantly, she doesn't want to cry in front of him.
She's never cried in front of him, and she's never wanted to. She's always wanted to be the stronger of the two, and he's told her a few, three or four times, that she really is. She stands when she feels the need to crumple. She carries on without hesitation or heartache, when it's all he can do to take himself out of bed.
That's what he tells her.
She just doesn't want to be outdone really. She's always been good at being the hero.
She is no damsel in distress, but at this moment, as she pretends that they're somewhere trapped in yesteryear, he is, and she is too, conscious of the fact that he will not be here tomorrow. He is going to die, and he will die for her, despite the fact that he shouldn't even be on this retched planet with her.
His coughs don't come as a surprise to her, but she still struggles, like if she somehow manages to break free now she will be able to save him. Her languages will be able to hold time in place, because words are power after all. With her languages, she will cast a spell over him…
She says endless words, hoping to calm him and it almost works. His coughs worsen for a split second and then he stops. His eyes land on her, like he knows, he knows that she cast a spell on him and tomorrow he'll be okay, because she willed it to be that way. Princesses don't just get to be saved; they get to save people too. But just as suddenly as he looks at her, his focus shatters, his pupils blow wide and she knows. She knows…
Even as they let go of her and light encompasses her…
Light encompasses him…
He's dead when they return the Enterprise.
And she doesn't understand.
A/N: I said you'd need the cookie! I tried to warn you, but…I didn't warn you well enough. I'm sorry for your pain.
If I could be brave enough to let you know my whereabouts I would, but as it is…I'm so totally a chicken.
BAWK BAWK!!!!
InnocentGuilt