Two months later, Dax still hadn't told Worf about her pregnancy. It had become a vicious cycle. She would vow to tell Worf the next time she heard from him, but then when they talked, he would say it would only be a week until he was back. She would decide it was worth waiting a week tell him in person. Then she would hear back from him that he was delayed another week.
She started to worry that she was being dishonest. The last time they had talked, Worf had noticed that she had gained weight and complimented her on it. Worf had never pretended to like small women. This had been the perfect opportunity to bring it up, but instead, she had said 'thank you' and changed the topic. Afterwards, she was hitting herself for not telling him.
The truth was, she didn't want to admit to herself that things weren't going as planned. When she had thought about starting a family, she had pictured Worf helping her throughout the pregnancy, setting up the nursery and holding her hand as she gave birth. Dax remembered how when she was Audrid her husband had always made jokes to distract her when she had morning sickness. She also thought of sweet, sensitive Tobin catering to his wife's every whim, feeling every bit of pain as if it was his own. And now she was pregnant and alone, and Worf was out in space, uninformed and defending the empire.
Perhaps, if he came back soon, she could tell him in person, and it would like he had never left. She stifled this thought two or three times a day. What about him, fighting week after week in a starship? Didn't he deserve this little bit of news to brighten his day? And there was no denying that he had a right to know. Dax tried to think these thoughts and kept promising herself that she would tell him next time, next time, next time. Then one day, next time didn't come.
As soon as Captain Sisko let her into his office, she knew something bad had happened. He didn't call her 'Old Man', make jokes or toss his baseball around. Instead, he stood solemnly, just looking at her until she asked what was wrong.
"It's the Rotarrun," he said softly, "It's missing."
"What happened?" she asked.
"No one knows for sure. One minute it was deep in Dominion territory, and the next minute it vanished. No warp signature, no phasor residue, nothing. The fleet thinks it is probably cloaked and adrift."
"Benjamin..." she whispered, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears.
He walked up to her and put his arms around her.
"It's going to be okay Jadzia. The truth is that Worf is probably safer right now than he has been at any other time in Dominion territory. So long as no one does anything stupid, they can spend as long as they need to to repair their engines or signal another ship. They'll be back eventually."
Dax tried to picture a ship full of Klingons trapped in Dominion territory not doing anything stupid. She didn't succeed.
Feigning Captain Sisko's optimism, Dax thanked him for the information and said it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. She walked all the way to her quarters wearing a big, fake smile and walked in. Mechanically dropping her things, she went into the bedroom. Then she collapsed on the bed, crying.
Jadzia had never realized how much she hated commanding the Defiant until the days after Worf disappeared. Sure, after the first few weeks of ordering her friends around, she had realized that she had no ambitions to be a captain, but she had always found it tolerable, something that had to be done as a part of her job.
Now every time she walked onto the Defiant she felt an uncontrollable urge to cry. She could tell the crew noticed. Everyone was as polite as possible, thanking her for orders and never raising their voice. They were also reluctant to talk to her. Every time she walked into the mess hall, everyone would pretend to be occupied with their conversation so that she wouldn't sit with them. When she did, the conversation would be awkward, as if no one knew whether to bring up Worf or not. Usually, the topic gravitated to something obscure, and the table would spend the whole meal ignoring the fact that Dax was pregnant and had just suffered a loss.
The only people Dax felt she could talk to were Captain Sisko and Major Kira. Unfortunately, nothing they said was of much help. Captain Sisko was so convinced that Worf was alive that talking to him became frustrating. Meanwhile, Major Kira kept telling Dax how brave she was. After these conversations, Dax always wished she felt brave.
Little Kang had started kicking violently, like every minute was too long to wait to get out into the universe. Every time Dax felt it, things seemed bleak. The universe felt so imposing. She didn't want to bring Kang into it.
In the captain's chair, Dax looked out into the stars. She remembered how in the very same chair, Worf had held her after their first night together. They had known that something special had happened, and in quiet whispers, they had planned their lives together.
It had been more fantasy than reality, with enough dreams to fill up several lifetimes, but what was more important was that they had realized that whatever they did, it would be together. As it turned out, they didn't even have enough time for one dream, Dax thought bitterly.
"I did it for you," Dax thought clutching her belly, and she knew her thoughts went not to Worf or to the Gods, but out into empty space. Meanwhile Kang kicked and thrashed, wanting to be free, waiting to be thrust into the world.