Author's Note: A prompt from StarTraveler: "They're on the Russian ship and Tom is in the cell I'd like to see his thoughts on Rachel being onboard and his fear for her trying not to imagine horrible things". This is slightly off the mark but it seemed to be where Tom wanted to go with it. See End Notes for more information.
He was caged. Steel bars, steel mesh, steel locks, steel around his arms, and unforgiving steel beneath him. Normally, so much metal surrounding him would be a comfort, an unyielding blanket that wrapped him in security and the peace of mind. But here...here the metal was rotten away, it was stained and pitted, and it spoke of evil things, things malevolent and corrupt.
And she was in the middle of it.
Of course she couldn't keep to the ship. Of course she couldn't obey orders. Of course she had to be the person they sent over because God dammit she was the logical choice, and he had to see that.
That didn't mean he was going to like it.
His surprise at seeing her had only been surpassed by the kiss. That kiss. It had been rough and desperate and nearly pleading; she had passed her note to him, but she had given him a taste of her strength and her fear. He saw the latter plain as day on her face when she pulled away, in that fraction of a moment when they could still breathe in one another, and her eyes flicked up from his lips.
Christ, she had been terrified but covered it with an iron will.
So now he sits, waiting with his chatty companion, discussing the better ways of escape, but his mind wouldn't let him step away from the memory of her for too long. She is somewhere on the ship, somewhere in the rusted rot of the old steel deathtrap and his gut is trying to twist itself into new shapes at this thought.
He knows they won't hurt her, not for a long enough while before they get their cure. But it is after that moment, after the half second they realize they don't need her anymore that brings out a tremor in his hands. He listens to his nattering compatriot but a portion of his mind is distracted by the what ifs and maybes that surround her circumstances.
Did his crew arm her?
Would she be willing to pull the trigger?
Could she live with taking a life?
Because, if he is honest with himself, she is not a killer. She is not a person to play God, not like that. Sure, she is playing around with a higher power by taking on the creation of this cure, but ending life. That takes a different person, a person like him.
He knows no matter how much longer they have together, he will kill for her again.
It is his job to be between people like her and the people that have them both in chains; his around his wrists, hers around her free will. And for him, these chains are no more than a momentary setback, a temporary issue that will be resolved shortly. But for her...for her those chains will shackle her down for as long as men like this exist, as long as men who are desperate and cunning and cruel remain in the world. They are highly visible here, easily recognizable, but elsewhere…
Elsewhere, they are harder to spy so easily.
So he sits with his insides turning flips and his skin tremmoring because he finally understands that her danger is here and it is out there and he can't stand between all of it. He can't, even though he wants to. He feels the cold rage inside him reach out to direct his hand at anyone on this ship who would harm her, and then further, to anyone who might hurt her, and that is the emotion, the revelation that has him so worried.
Is he that willing to kill for the cure, or for her?
Is he willing to end every life aboard this ship because they jeopardized the salvation for humanity, or because they hurt her?
His overworked heart and his mind reconcile, and call them one and the same.
He doesn't doubt her courage. He doesn't doubt her strength. He doesn't doubt her grit.
He doubts his resolve to keep her just a doctor, just a person to protect.
Shit, he's going to kill for her just because she is Rachel.
Author's End Note: When I say things like "This is where 'x' character decided to go with it", I don't mean I express no control whatsoever on where these stories take me. I am, after all, the writer. However, there are times where it seems the character would act or say things a different way than what I would have them act or speak, so I modify the story to account for that. Which is what happened here. I couldn't imagine Tom being too terribly worried for Rachel since he received his letter, because he 1) knows his team is coming and 2) knows she is a very capable woman. So I am left with instead a story about his thoughts on why he does the things he does for her, and even if he should continue doing them. However, I find this an interesting lead-in piece to what happens not too shortly after in the episode. Tom's perception of her will certainly change after that.