Staying Silent, part two – April

"It's symbolic," Buffer said, sneaking an extra spoonful of scrambled egg onto his breakfast plate. Bomber was too caught up in his explanation to notice.

"How is it symbolic?" she asked.

"Just is. The cutting of someone's tongue is a message – means 'don't talk'. Used to intimidate witnesses," Buffer said. He was tempted to go an extra slice of toast, but thought better of it.

"So you think the X saw something on shore leave?" Spider said from behind him.

"Could be."

"So that's why she's saying she can't remember what happened?" Bomber guessed. Spider snorted.

"C'mon. The X? To her, the word 'intimidated' only applies to other people."

"So why isn't she saying anything?" asked RO, who was for once grabbing breakfast at the same time as everyone else.

"If she says she can't remember, then I believe her," Spider replied stoically. Buffer smirked, and moved away from the galley.

"All I know is that while Kate's in hospital, we've got to deal with XO Stark, and that the CO's going to be a little more volatile than usual."

"Why is the captain mad?" RO asked, almost treading on Buffer's heels in his rush to escape from the press of hungry sailors. Buffer thought about it for a moment.

"Means more paperwork," he grunted after a moment. The excuse seemed to satisfy RO, who hadn't seen what Buffer had – the CO's tender hands holding Kate's as she battled the hospital bed, determined not to have someone else take over her job.

But logic had won out, and now they were stuck with Jonothan Stark for the next two weeks. He wasn't unskilled, but he didn't know the Hammersley or her crew. The junior sailors especially couldn't wait to get Kate back.

***

"The crew missed you," Mike said, coming down the hall and into Kate's kitchen. A week with Stark and things had at least fallen into a balanced routine. This was the first opportunity he had had to see her since they had sailed away without her. She shrugged, and gestured at the kettle. He nodded, and she started making two mugs of tea.

"Problems?" she asked, doing her best to hide the slight lisp. He shook his head.

"No. Just the normal issues with a new crewmember." He changed the topic. "When do the stitches come out?"

"Tomorrow," she muttered, turning away from him. She had been assured that her tongue would heal just fine, and that her speech would return to normal as soon as the swelling went down. Just then, the kettle boiled, and she gratefully relocated her attention.

"Remembered anything else?" Mike asked casually. She only just stopped herself from glaring at him.

"No," she said, trying to sound calm. He continued to stare at her back, and after a moment she glanced over her shoulder. "What?"

"You are a terrible liar," he commented.

"I am not!" she retorted. Then she realised how that sounded. "What are you implying?"

"Just that I don't think you've ever forgotten anything in your life before."

"It's called amnesia, Mike. I don't remember anything after I left for the video store." For some reason, she found herself unable to meet his eyes. She wasn't sure what she would see – pity? Suspicion? Longing?

"Look at me," he instructed, as if reading her thoughts. She scowled, and tried to turn away. His hand snaked out, and caught her wrist.

"Whoever did this to you did more than cut through your tongue. They scared you. And I don't know many people who could do that, Kate."

She shivered. So maybe she did remember. Her breathing hitched as she recalled the knife at her throat, the pool of blood beneath her feet. And then the taste of it. She had almost drowned on it before blissfully passing out. The stitches in her tongue ached, and it was as if she could still feel the hands around her wrists –

She jerked her hand away from Mike's grip, cursing how weak she suddenly felt. What had been different? Why was she breaking down now? She'd been strong facing armed hostiles, she had been tough when she had been used as a hostage, and even getting shot in the back hadn't fazed her too much.

But this? She squeezed her eyes shut, as a tear battled its way towards her cheek, and she fought it with all the pride and emotional detachment she could muster. But she was unable to stop the way her breathing roughened.

When Mike reached out his long arms and pulled her to his chest, she lost it completely. She let out a ragged sob, and her fingers clutched desperately at his shirt, praying he would be enough to keep her afloat in the impending flood. She pushed aside the throbbing in her tongue and tried to forget about the scar running down the centre, and finally let the fear and grief run its course.

A few minutes later, a headache beginning to burn behind her eyes, Kate slowly regained her balance and pushed herself away from the comfort of his embrace. He let her go, watching her carefully.

"I'm not supposed to be like this," she gasped, rubbing furiously at her face. Mike bit the inside of his cheek, worried that she might swing from upset to angry – it had happened before. Kate continued, and he suddenly realised that she was angry – but the rage was directed at herself, not at him.

"I'm not supposed to be weak!"

"Being scared doesn't mean you're weak," he said soothingly, reaching out a hand and softly brushing the hair out of her eyes. She ignored his touch.

"He said he was going to kill me," she said shakily, her voice trembling uncertainly as her fingers gently touched her throat.

"You're safe with me," Mike whispered, stepping closer. There was a line, a very fine line, that they kept between them at all times, always watching the past warily. Somehow, this occasion was an exception to that rule. He wasn't comforting her as a lover or as a colleague, but as a friend. That was what she needed.

"I don't know why... why he scared me," Kate continued. "How many times do I face that each day? And this... I just, I don't know why, I want, I don't..."

With each truncated sentence, the ache in her tongue grew worse, and she grew less and less coherent, until the only thing coming from her mouth was a whispered wail. Mike took her into his arms once again, and rocked her gently, wondering what on earth he was going to do now.