"Where there is desire,

There is gonna be a flame.

Where there is a flame,

Someone's bound to get burned.

But just because it burns,

Doesn't mean you're gonna die.

You've gotta get up and try, and try, and try.

Gotta get up and try, and try, and try.

You gotta get up and try, and try, and try."

-P!nk

Get up.

Go to work.

Talk to no one.

Get back home.

Drink.

Cry yourself to sleep.

Get up.

Go to work.

Every day was the same for her now. End endless loop of self loath and suffering, of unbearable regret and remorse.

She could not deny it anymore. Her heart was broken, and the pain it caused was almost more than she could take. This was the first time. She'd had no idea it would hurt like this.

It was an ice cold iron in her chest, cutting it's way deeper and deeper into her lungs, making it impossible to breath. It was a crushing weight on her shoulders, that prevented her from standing up straight. And it was a burning fire in her throat, that turned into tears every time she tried to open her mouth and say something.

So basically she didn't say anything. To anyone. Except for Skylar, but she didn't seem to mind her constant sobbing and wailing.

"There, there." she just said, and handed her a handkerchief. And then forced her to have some chocolate and hot tea - doctor's orders.

But no one else she would meet. Not even Chekov, who constantly called her and tried to cheer her up, apparently unable to bear the fact that she was this sad. He was practically the only one who even wanted to see her, though. No one else wanted nothing to do with her - as if she had the plague or something.

It was obvious, that everyone knew. It was USS Raven all over again, except that this was worse. The way they just stopped talking, when she stepped into a room. How they looked at her, all smug and their eyes judgmental. Margot knew all too well what were they saying about her behind her back - had heard enough glimpses of conversations to be certain.

That she was a slut. A whore. A cheater. That she was a woman who had broken a good man's heart, and made friends - almost like brothers - to turn against each other.

There was no excuse. It was all true. And so she didn't even try and explain her actions to anyone. Why bother? All her energy went to trying to keep breathing, to keep her broken heart beating.

Two weeks it had been now.

Two weeks, and she couldn't understand how she was still alive.

Get up. Go to work. Look at the microscope. Pretend that you're not crying, that there's just something in your eye. Look at the microscope and see nothing. Get the work done, somehow. Skip the lunch, for who would sit with you? Lie to Skylar about eating, for how on Earth could you eat something, when all you want to do is to puke? Go home. Drink. Cry yourself to sleep. Get up.

Go to work.

Two weeks and one day.

On the first days she had tried to speak to him, to say that she was sorry, that she was so sorry. That she'd do anything to make it right. But he had been cold and distant, not even looking at her.

"You can't just fix this, Margot." he had said, and shrugged. "You can't undo what you did."

And that was the last time he'd spoken to her.

She had seen him in the hallway a couple of times, and he seemed fine. At least he and Kirk weren't fighting anymore, for she had seen them together. And noticed Jim's cut lip and swollen nose too.

She didn't get it - guys. You fight, and then everything is just fine. Then why wouldn't he fight with her? Why wouldn't he beat her up too? She knew she'd deserve it. She was nothing. She was worthless.

"How is he doing?" she asked from Skylar one night, after two weeks and two days.

They were sitting in Skylar's quarters and sipping hot chocolate (which was practically all Margot could keep in).

Skylar shrugged. "Not well, I suppose."

"I saw him the other day, he seemed just fine." the memory stung her heart. He had been laughing, chatting with Uhura as they had passed her in the hallway. He hadn't even looked at her direction.

"That doesn't mean anything." Skylar stated. "What would you want for him to do? Roam the halls weeping?"

"That's what I do." Margot sighed.

"And is it working?" Skylar raised an eyebrow.

Margot didn't even bother to answer. Tears welled up in her eyes again, and she wiped them off with her sleeve.

"Margot, I'm worried." Skylar said, with her doctor's voice, and Margot had to look up to her eyes.

"About what?"

"About you."

"Well, there's nothing new in that, is there?"

"I'm worried, not only as your friend, but as your doctor. You don't eat. You hardly sleep. You drink too much, and you cry all the time. It's been two weeks now-"

"And two days."

"Two weeks and two days, and you've lost like, what…? Eight pounds?"

"Six." Margot rolled her eyes. It wasn't like she weighed herself every morning, except it was.

"That's alarming. You're tiny as it is. You can't lose much more without it being dangerous. You'll have to start eating."

"I'm eating, alright?" Margot snapped, annoyed. This was none of Skylar's business.

"Stop lying to me." Skylar stated firmly. "I can't help you if you do that."

"You want to help me?" Margot sat up, her eyes storming now, tears running on her cheeks again. "Then cut out my heart! For it's burning, and it hurts so much that I can't breath and I can't eat and all I want to do, is jump out of the airlock, to make this stop!"

Skylar was silent for a short while.

"You're thinking about killing yourself?"

"That's all I think, Skylar. That, and Hikaru."

"As your doctor, I can't let this pass. You need help."

"There is no help for me." Margot pressed her face in her hands. "I did this to myself, and now I'm paying the price."

"We should go to the sickbay. I want to weigh you in, and take some blood test. And I'm ordering you anti depressants, and some sick leave."

"No!" Margot glared at her, angered now. "I'm not depressed, I'm sad - that's different. And there is no way I'll stop working. That's not going to help, Skylar. At least now I go somewhere, do something."

"Yeah, you go to the lab, cry there all day, and think about killing yourself."

"Oh, quit blabbering about that. It's not like I'm really going to do it." She wiped her eyes, and her running nose. "I've caused Hikaru enough grief for a lifetime as it is."

"You promise?" Skylar asked. "That you won't harm yourself? 'Cause I won't let you leave this room until you do."

"Okay, I promise." Margot sighed.

"You know, he's not doing well either." Skylar stated after a while.

"You've talked to him?"

"No, but I've seen him. I've seen the way he still looks at you, Margot. He's still in love with you."

Margot looked at her friend, her reassuring eyes, and tried to wrap her thoughts around her words.

"Well, it's not doing good to either one of us, is it?" she finally said. "If he's decided he can't forgive me, and that it's all over."

"Just give him some time. He can't live without you, you know."

"How much time, Skylar?" Margot stood up, and placed her cup on the table. "An eternity?"

But there was no answer for her question.

She walked to her quarters, hardly noticing the tears that just kept running, poured herself a glass of wine, and cried some more, before falling into a restless sleep.

Get up.

Go to work.

Two weeks and three days.