Chapter 9
"It's fascinating to me how people can say so much by saying so little."
I hate you.
"It's been a couple of days since Colonel Young told the ship about my situation. I've interacted with people I never even knew were here in that time."
I wish I'd never met you.
"And so far no one, not one person, has told me I made the wrong decision. They're all glad it's me instead of her."
You ruined my life.
"And you're one of them."
She looked over to find him watching her. Daring her to contradict him. Or perhaps begging her to. Chloe swallowed hard and looked away again. "You should have never dialed the ninth chevron."
In her peripheral vision he moved, and she glanced over again. He was staring far away, beyond the walls and circuits and wires, shaking his head. Did he look sad? Maybe he was just reflecting. Thinking, cold and calculating like he always was. Stating facts. No emotion. That was it.
"So," he said quietly, and everything she had just decided was contravened, "we're back to this again, are we? What are you angry about this time?"
Oh, but she could wring his neck. "Nothing."
He snorted, obviously catching her insinuative tone. "Then I suppose it's the thought of going home that has you so annoyed. I do know how much you love this ship."
"No one loves this ship except you," she said hotly.
He faced her and smiled darkly. "That's incredibly clear."
"Don't," she said. "Don't start this again. Don't make me feel guilty about going home."
"How you feel is a result of your own decisions, not mine."
She wanted to slap him. "Look, I'm sorry that your life is so empty that this ship is the only thing you have to live for-"
"What?" He sounded sincerely offended. As if he could ever be sincere about anything.
"-but that isn't my fault. Okay? Do you think I wanted to disappoint you? Do you think I like it when you're mad at me? I know how much you love this ship. I know you blame me for taking it away from you, or taking you away from it, or whatever! You love Destiny more than anything. Or anyone."
He glared at her in distaste.
She would not be intimidated. "I understand why you didn't want to go back home in the beginning, but I really don't know why you still don't. We have another chance now to get back to Earth and you still want to stay? I guess I kind of thought having friends and people you care about would make life back there a little more bearable but obviously I was wrong. I just hope all of this was worth it."
"It was," he said.
I hate you.
He looked away, and she realized she'd said it aloud. But for some reason she couldn't make herself retract the words.
"And for what do you hate me?" he wanted to know. "For saving your life? For saving your lieutenant's life? For finding a planet that will bring you home again? For not sabotaging the ship and locking everyone out of the dialing programs? For throwing away my life's work and totally abandoning the only thing I have to live for?"
"I hate you for being so pathetic," she shot back. I hate you for being so heartbroken. "I hate you for making me think you cared about me." I hate you for making me care. "I hate you for bringing us here in the first place." I hate you for not coming home.
He didn't look surprised. He just nodded with a wry little smile. "That's quite a list of grievances, Miss Armstrong."
"I've got more."
He held up a hand. "No, no, don't bother. I believe you. I'm glad we got all that out in the open, though. I'd hate to die thinking that we had actually managed to move past all of my terrible crimes. What an awful delusion to take to my grave."
She jumped up from the console. "All right, as long as we're being honest, why don't we clear something else up too? I know why you gave T.J. your vaccine."
He stared blankly at her, but she could see him bristle. "Yeah, because I told you why."
"No, I mean the actual reason. I know you can't live without Destiny. That's why you're not going home."
His face changed, twisting with confusion and not a little anger. "What?"
"Don't 'What?' me, Rush! You have made it very clear for the last five years that this ship is all that really matters to you! And you would rather die than leave! Like when you took your name out of the lottery when we first flew into the sun!"
He looked shocked. "That's what you think this is about?!"
"I know it is! You don't care about anything else! And if that's how you feel, then fine, I'm glad you gave away your vaccine! Satisfied? I'm glad you didn't take it. At least that way you can die with the only thing in the universe that you really love!"
He threw his notebook down and pointed at the door. "Out! Get out!"
She was already moving, and she stormed away, leaving him alone with his precious ship.
She went to the Mess and fell onto a bench, thanking Becker for the rations he handed her even though she wasn't hungry. All she wanted to do was cry. She curled her hand into a fist, slamming it onto the tabletop. People nearby jumped and stared, but a glare from her made them forget they saw anything. Suddenly, utterly overwhelmed, she felt like she was drowning, and she jumped up from her seat and fled for the exit, almost slamming into Eli.
"Whoa, sorry," said her friend, but a look at Chloe's face made him gasp. "Are you all right?"
Chloe tried to talk, but all that came out was a string of incoherent sobs that might have been words.
Eli put an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, come on, talk to me. Let's go to the deck."
Once there, Eli closed the door for privacy and had Chloe sit on one of the chairs. Chloe just sat for awhile, almost hysterical, feeling angry, feeling guilty about feeling angry, feeling confused about feeling guilty, feeling sad, feeling hurt, feeling tired. She wondered inanely if crying could cause dehydration.
"Chloe," Eli said gently, eventually. "What's wrong?"
Chloe furiously scrubbed at her face. "Rush is what's wrong!" she exclaimed. "He is such…such an idiot!"
That seemed to take Eli by surprise. "Why? What did he do?"
"Nothing!"
Now her friend frowned. "Then what's going on? Is everything okay? Did Rush say something?"
Chloe shook her head. Her mind was jumbled and her mouth was barely cooperating as it was without confusion getting in the way. "No, it's not that, it's just…why can't he just die already?"
Eli gaped at her with impossibly wide eyes. Something like anger flashed across his face. "What?"
It was a horrible thing to say, and she felt horrible saying it. "This is impossible! We know he's going to, so why doesn't he just get it over with? What is he waiting for?"
Eli's face was stone. "Chloe…"
"I'm serious! He keeps wanting to talk to me but he doesn't realize that I don't want to see him. He makes me so angry. I can't even look at him."
Eli looked totally baffled. "Why?"
Why, indeed? Because I know that one day I'll look and he won't be there. Because I know how disappointed he is in me.
"Because I'm going to miss him so much," she said.
Eli frowned. "That makes no sense."
"I know."
"So, wait, is that why you yelled at him the other day?"
She nodded. It was so much easier to channel her grief as anger, because being angry hurt less than being sad. "I guess."
"That's stupid!"
She glared at him. "I didn't ask for your-"
She was interrupted by the static sound of Eli's radio coming to life. "Anyone who might be on this channel, this is Brody in the control room! I need help!"
Chloe went cold. "The control room," she whispered. She looked in horror to Eli. "That's where I left Rush!"
"What?" he shouted. "You left Rush?!"
"Brody, this is T.J. What's going on?"
"Something is wrong with Rush!" They could hear choking and desperate gasps in the background. "I don't know what's happening, but he says he can't breathe!"
"I'm on my way!"
Chloe leaped from her chair and raced for the exit. Eli was at her heels. Her eyes burned as she ran down the corridor, and quickly her vision was so blurry that she couldn't even see where she was going. She stopped, gasping, leaning against the wall and just trying to breathe.
"What are you doing?" Eli demanded. "Let's go!"
"I can't!" she said. She slid down the wall in despair. "I can't go in there!"
"Chloe!"
"I can't!"
He picked her up by the arm. "What's the matter with you? Come on!" He practically dragged her along, and she stumbled blindly after him, her feet barely gripping the floor. Her mind was scrambling. All she could think about was Rush, and how sorry she was, and how stupid she was, and how she hoped he wouldn't be dead when she got there.
The control room was empty when they arrived. Chloe freaked, but Eli took her by the arm again and spun her around. "The infirmary!" he said, and they went together.
In total contrast to the control room, the hall to the infirmary was jammed with people. They were talking, shouting questions, shoving, jumping up to see inside, a mob unified by a mutual morbid fascination. Eli and Chloe tried ineffectually to elbow their way past.
"Everyone, shut up!"
That was Matt's voice. Now Chloe could see him, standing in the doorway, facing the crowd with his arms spread. Greer was at his side.
"All of you need to chill out, all right?" Matt said. "Back away from the infirmary. Everything's fine, there's nothing to see. Go about your day."
Amidst the murmurs of the swarm, Chloe felt her heart begin to beat again. Everything was fine?
"Come on, people, you heard the man," said Greer. "Show's over, let's give them some privacy. Move, move, move."
As the horde began to withdraw, Chloe felt Eli pulling her forward toward the door.
"That means you, Eli," Matt said.
"Matt, wait," Eli said. "I think Chloe needs to see Rush."
Matt turned his eyes to her, and she nodded furiously. He sighed. "Stand by." He slipped inside, and over Greer's shoulder Chloe watched him go to T.J., who was standing beside a bed. Colonel Young and Brody were at her side. Sitting on the bed was Rush, alive. She thought she might faint. She watched T.J. nod and look to her patient. Rush turned to glance at Chloe, hesitated, and then nodded also. Matt returned and nudged Greer to the side. "He'll see you."
The words were barely past his lips when she ducked inside and hurried to where Rush was sitting. He looked pale, a little sweaty, but not dead. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry more. "What happened?"
He didn't answer her. He kept his eyes low and a little to the left, deliberately avoiding her direction.
"A panic attack," said T.J. "That was all. Very scary, but quite common and not life-threatening."
Rush snorted.
"Although it can make you feel like you're dying," the medic added.
Chloe watched Rush. He was still dodging her gaze, turning farther and farther away from her, his mouth a grim straight line. "Rush…"
"Chloe," T.J. interrupted, "can I see you for a minute?"
Chloe reluctantly followed her some distance away where they couldn't be overheard. T.J. crossed her arms over her chest, but it wasn't clear if she was angry or just casual.
"He told me about what happened in the control room," T.J. whispered. Shame warmed Chloe's face. "Is there something you need to talk about?"
She wanted to cry again. Her head hurt. Her stomach hurt. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said. Remembering her words to Eli, she flinched. "I just…I'm so mad."
T.J. sighed. "We're all trying to deal with this. Everyone deals differently. I know that this is how you cope, but you need to find another way. Are you listening?"
Chloe sniffed and nodded.
"What you're doing is not helping anyone. You left him alone! If this had been something more serious than a panic attack, and if Brody hadn't found him…"
"Nothing would change," Chloe bit out, trying to cover a sob. "He is still dying. Whether now or later makes no difference."
T.J. looked mortified. "Chloe…"
"You know I'm right!" T.J. shushed her and she tried to lower her voice. "I wish it would just happen. It's terrible to watch him go like this. Slowly. It's like just watching someone drown. It's too hard."
T.J. didn't respond right away. When she did, she asked, "Would you rather not have a chance to say goodbye?"
Chloe thought of her father, and she had no answer. She felt more hot tears spill out of her eyes.
"I know you're close," said T.J. softly. "I know this is hard. But you've already let him go in your heart even though he's still here. Be with him while you can, for both your sakes. I think he needs your strength as much as you need his."
That was truer than T.J. could possibly know. She suddenly felt very cold. Why was the infirmary always so cold? She hugged herself, nodding in response to T.J.'s advice, and turned to go back to Rush. To Colonel Young and Brody, she said, "Can you give us a second?"
They left the infirmary. Even T.J. kept a safe distance. Chloe sat on the bed at Rush's side, tears welling up again when he turned his face away from her. For a minute she sat in agonizing silence before reaching out and taking his hand. She could feel the heat of his fever - or maybe his anger - coming off his body in waves. He looked down at their entwined fingers but there was no other reaction. There was a memory there between them, and she wondered if he was thinking about it too.
"The same dream?" Rush had asked one night in that same old way. It wasn't. It was a new one, where her father had taken the place of her mother, and instead of just standing outside of the tank and staring at her he somehow managed to rip off his own head and throw it against the glass. She'd woken up nearly screaming, fighting off poor Matt, who was trying to comfort her without injuring himself. She'd run from the room, thankfully still clothed, and found her way to the Mess. Rush asked his question without looking up. When he did, he rose from the bench at the sight of her while she collapsed onto hers in a heaving, hysterical mess. He came around and stood beside her.
"Chloe," he whispered. "What happened?"
"Nightmare," she barely got out. The skin on his neck stretched and snapped apart. "My father…on the alien ship…" Dripping blood. Head hitting the glass. She closed her eyes and bit back a shriek.
She felt Rush gently take one of her hands, then the other. "Chloe," he said softly. "Look at me."
She shook her head. Blood splattering. She whimpered.
"Open your eyes. Come on."
It took a colossal effort, but she managed to crack one eye open. Rush had knelt on the floor in front of her, gazing up at her intensely. She shuddered.
"Listen to me," she thought she saw him say, but all she heard was that horrible screech of the Nakai. She flinched and tried to pull away.
"You're on Destiny," Rush said. His voice somehow reached her through the panicked haze of her mind. He squeezed her hands. "Listen to me! You're on Destiny. Breathe."
She hadn't realized she'd stopped. She took a deep breath, let it out, and quivered again.
"You're on Destiny," he repeated. She took notice how he was not saying she was safe on Destiny. "Shh. Shhh."
She pulled her hands away and lurched forward, sliding off the bench and locking her arms around his neck for no reason other than that he was familiar, he was safe, and he was someone she knew wouldn't hurt her. She clutched whole fistfuls of his shirt in her fingers and hid her face in his hair. It was awhile before he held her back, his arms folding loosely across her shoulders.
There was no ticking clock to announce the passage of time. There was only silence, his breath in her ear, and his occasional, "Shhh." She continued to tremble, unable to close her eyes for fear of the memory. She just stared at nothing. Her vision was half blocked by his hair.
"Chloe," he whispered, and she felt him try to pull away, but she just held him tighter in her quaking arms.
"Not yet."
He went silent. She made him stay there on the mess hall floor for ages. He never complained and he never let go. By the end, his grip was as strong as hers and she could feel him shaking just as badly.
There in the infirmary, she could feel his arm trembling again through the hand she held. She longed to take him in her arms again. She missed him, missed the way they used to be, back when things were easier. Things were always hard, but they hadn't been this hard for a long time.
"I need to say something," she began, softly. "You're not going to want to hear it, but I need to say it, and you have to let me get through this. Okay?" No response. He just raised his head and stared out into the distance, as if resigned to the fact that she was going to talk. This she took as sufficient encouragement to continue. "I still blame you for dialing the ninth chevron. I still believe everything that's happened was your fault. But I forgave you."
He jerked his hand away. "Yeah, right." She sniffed and took it back.
"Don't shut me out, Rush. You need to listen to me." She had lost all command of her voice. "I didn't mean what I said earlier. I'm not glad gave your vaccine away. You mean more to me than most of the people on this ship, do you know that? I don't actually know what I'm going to do without you. You're the only one who could help me after the...the aliens. Only you." He looked away again, but the anger had retreated from his eyes. "You're my friend. You were always there when I needed you. And I haven't been there for you."
He snorted. "Yeah."
That made her wince. "I don't just mean today. I know you feel like I abandoned you, and I'm so, so sorry. I can't reconcile the me that chose to stay with the me that's choosing to go, but I never wanted to hurt you."
He dropped his eyes and sighed.
"But you abandoned me too," she said. She hung her head, tears falling to her lap. "You didn't talk to me for a month. Do you know how much that hurt? The last thing I wanted was to make you unhappy, and when I did you wouldn't even let me try to explain why. Like you didn't actually care about me, you only cared about what you could get from me."
He squeezed her hand and shook his head. "That's not true," he said hoarsely.
"I know," she said. "I knew it then. But now you've made the choice not to come home, and it feels like it's happening all over again. I hope it's not because you feel like everyone deserted you. I know you feel alone, but you're not. Please tell me that's not why you did this."
She couldn't live with that. If he told her that he had given up on life because no one supported him and the mission, she might kill herself. She could not bear that kind of guilt.
He shook his head. "I don't want to die, Chloe." He looked carefully at her. "But I'm sure your father didn't either."
There it was. That was his answer. Her eyes burned anew, and she bit down hard on her lip. The words were nowhere near an answer. "Okay," she said, nodding.
But it wasn't okay. None of this was okay. She couldn't see how this could possibly be in the interest of the greater good, but she had to believe that he felt it was, even though she had been through this before and he was putting her through it all again. There was so much more she could have said, more about how it wasn't fair to the people who cared about him, how he should have warned her first, how he shouldn't have done it, how he should have thought of another way, how it didn't make sense for him to do this for someone who was dying anyway because now there were both going to die. But none of it would change anything. What was done was done, and it was too late to undo it.
"I don't hate you," she finally whispered.
After a minute, he swallowed. "I know, darling."
She laid her forehead on his shoulder. He squeezed her hand. Nothing else needed to be said.
—
It had been a long time since Nick felt safe in anyone's company. There were very few people left in the universe who made made him feel halfway secure, and none he felt he could trust with his whole self. Gloria had been the last. She, his amazing, wonderful wife, had held his body, his mind, and his heart in her strong and delicate hands, and she never abused the privilege. His days were more often than not fraught with dangers to his health, his mind, his money, his job, his reputation, and his marriage, but he always knew that she would be there waiting at the door to take him in her arms and tell him she loved him. He hadn't felt safe since she died. Now he had no refuge, no Gloria to come home to, to hold, to tell he loved her, to say they'd make it through this. The nights only brought emptiness, loneliness, and uncertainty.
Here on Destiny he had been forced to trust many of these people, though he knew he could never commit all the way. He trusted Lieutenant Johansen to care for his body, even though she worked under the orders of Colonel Young, because she was a kind and caring person who wouldn't hurt him on purpose. He trusted Eli with his mind because, although the kid was smarter than he was, he was still humble enough not to throw it in his face. He and Colonel Young had finally found a kind of comity and balance, and he had found himself looking to the colonel for protection more and more, but at the end of the day, Young was still the man who'd tried to kill him.
But then there was another. This little girl sitting at his side, holding his hand and crying. He found that he trusted her more than most. Their shared experience with the aliens had knit them together at the soul, and she had the closest thing to his complete trust that he was able to give. He knew she wouldn't hurt him physically (again). He knew she respected his mind. And somehow, she had his heart too, being the only person who could soothe it or shatter it. And that she had. From the moment she told him she was leaving, he hadn't been the same. Everything changed then. Everything. She, who was so much like him, who was different and wonderful and special and unique, had become just like everyone else. From that day they had been looking at each other as if through prison bars, able to see each other, hear each other, even touch, but never to be on the same side again. He wasn't sure which of them was the prisoner.
He was not in love with Chloe Armstrong. Such a thing at this point was beyond him for many reasons, but in a different way, he needed her. She was a friend, and still she was more. He could not forget the day her father died. He could still hear her frantic voice over Eli's radio begging him to open the shuttle door and Eli's despairing answer that there was nothing he could do. He remembered how small he felt. If there ever was a time he regretted dialing the ninth chevron, that was it. And afterward he had made some bungled apology and a promise, but he knew that she would always hate him. That was before her rejection of him really, truly mattered the way it did now, but looking back he realized that even then it stung.
She has her father's eyes.
That was why. He allowed his mind to drift for a moment into the past. If she'd had her mother's eyes and her father's hair…no, she wouldn't have looked like Chloe. That was fine. He wanted to keep them separate from each other. Chloe was not a replacement. She was but a small glimpse into the life he could have had, but she was something special all her own, someone he couldn't categorize and someone he was perfectly happy to take as she was. To lose her meant to lose a part of himself, and he was losing a lot of himself lately. He needed her. But they'd grown apart, as he'd always known they would. It was inevitable. It happened with everyone, and he was long past being able to do anything to change that fact or prevent it in the future. The common denominator in all your dysfunctional relationships is you. He knew it would happen, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.
She'd left him. She wasn't physically gone, but her heart was no longer with him, so he'd taken his back. She could no longer be trusted with it. He knew that hurt her, but she shouldn't have expected anything different. He loved her in the best way he knew how (and he hadn't loved anyone in so long that he wasn't sure if he was even doing it right), but the truth was, she wasn't enough to make him leave. And he wasn't enough to make her stay. Both of them were fighting, asking for more than the other could give. It wasn't right, and it wasn't fair, and it fit in perfectly with every other misfit element of their relationship, so he could do nothing but allow it just to be. It was by no means a perfect love on either side, but it was real, and it was everything that they were capable of. They weren't enough. And that was enough.
"Do you still have nightmares?" she asked unexpectedly, startling him in the quiet.
He shook his head. "No. Not for some time now."
He could feel her smile even though her face was hidden. "Me neither. I'm glad."
He squeezed her hand and kissed her hair, and she hooked her arm through his and clung to it.
"I wish you weren't leaving me," she said softly.
He put his arm around her, never letting go of her hand, holding her close and resting his head on hers. "So do I."
They would do their best.