A/N: This is a rewriting of my first fanfic "Dare" and is not a continuation of that ficlet in any way. I was simply curious to see how my writing style has changed since then.

.


I hear her again tonight, feel her cries echoing through my bones. The bulkheads aren't as soundproof as I think she believes. I had known that assimilation would leave a dark wound on her psyche; had known it better than she herself, probably. But it's still hard to hear her terror at night and lie in silence, knowing that an intrusion would be unwelcome. I tried to go to her the first night it happened. I stood outside her door, the chime going unanswered, until I saw the light on the keypad change to indicate the locking of the door.

So I lie here, sleep but an elusive memory, and wonder whether her sobbing comes while she lies awake in fear of the darkness, or while she dreams of mechanical people and green-lit corridors. My heart aches with every whimper that reaches my ear. I want to wrap her in my arms and hold her close until she believes that the demons can't hurt her anymore. But do I dare push past her defences? With all that's happened between us over the last six years, would she even want me there? Do I dare go to her side?


The tubules pierce my neck for the dozenth time in several days, nanoprobes crawl their way through my veins, implants burst through my skin and the pain threatens to overwhelm me. I hear their collective voices in my head, feel my body ravaged and violated by their tiny machines. I hear a scream, shrill and discordant against the backdrop of collective harmony. It's my voice. It's my terror. I open my eyes and the darkness suffocates me. The voices are gone, the implants are gone, but the green is still there behind my eyelids. I feel bile rising in my throat as I fight my way out of the sweaty tangle of blankets.

My gaze drifts towards the bulkhead near me, a looming shadow streaked with the light of the passing stars. I know he hears me. Out of all Starfleet's fine inventions, soundproof bulkheads have never been a high priority. If I open the door and let him in, I know he would come. I know he would soothe my pain and quell my fear. And I also know what letting him in only to have to shut him out again would do to my aching heart. Do I dare risk it? Would I rather live with these ghosts, or with the fear of losing him? For once in my life, I don't know what to do.


The door chimes. The dim corridor lighting casts a soft shadow over his face. The door remains closed. He rests a hand against the doorframe, realizing he hadn't expected anything different than this. He turns back towards his own quarters and starts to walk away.

The door opens.

Her tiny form appears as though it were a faint apparition, standing just within the door's sensor range. If the lighting weren't casting a shadow over her face, he knows he would see tear-tracks on her cheeks. He steps closer and she melts backwards into the darkness. He follows her inside and holds open his arms.

She hesitates.

He waits.

She steps into his warm embrace and pulls his body close.

The door silently closes behind them.