He couldn't eat.
Leonard glared at the unwrapped nutrition bar in his hand. He'd managed to get down a bite of it, but it was so damn dry…and it hurt too much to swallow.
Khan'd given him a couple of the bars that morning; then went off to deliver the...message...they'd recorded; said he'd be back that night. The killer'd left him with a stack of rusty panels to scrub...and he'd finished those an hour ago.
The only other things he could do were to sleep, write, or eat...something.
Sleep hadn't worked out too well. Too many damn images from the night before played on a loop in his dreams.
The hand on his throat...being tied down...
...The water...god...the water.
He...wasn't ready to write about it either.
Leonard laid back on his biobed; tossed the nutrition bar back and forth between his hands. He'd taken the time to fix his wrists: those damn bandages had broken the skin, and he wasn't about to risk an infection...
...At least his bed was dry. Khan had tied him to the bed Nitika died on for the video. He was probably just trying to tighten up the shot; make it so the only thing the camera could see was stolen Starfleet property, instead of rusting walls, or ancient flooring, or anything else that might help somebody figure out where they were...
His stomach growled.
"Maybe I can soak the bar in some water for a bit," Leonard muttered. "Soften it up a little…"
An unwelcome mental image made the doctor involuntarily swallow; wince.
God...What if he'd torn something?
Leonard shuddered; took a deep breath.
He was being paranoid: he'd checked himself out at least a dozen times.
...But there'd been a lot of bruising...way more than was necessary to indicate a life–threatening injury. Hell, throat injuries didn't even need to have bruises to be life–threatening...what if...
The doctor sat up; swapped the nutrition bar for the medical tricorder he'd left at the foot of his biobed.
Maybe he'd missed a tear in the esophagus, or a fractured larynx, or a crushed artery…
He passed the scanner over his head, neck and chest; sighed in relief at the results.
"I'm okay," Leonard whispered. "Inflammation's down a little more...no sign of blood clots...no sign of...I'm just...healing...nothin's gonna...I'm okay."
Well, not 'okay' okay. Bruising like a peach could also be a side–effect of xenopolycythemia…
"I'm no worse off than before..."
...Before Khan'd almost crushed his trachea.
That third time...he'd felt it...it'd hurt so much, for a moment Leonard thought...
The doctor set the tricorder down; absently rubbed a sore spot near the back of his neck.
That the killer hadn't crushed or broken anything in Leonard's throat was a freakin' miracle. A little more pressure; a slightly different angle…
Leonard's eyes started to burn; closed them as he felt the moisture build up.
He'd almost died...again...And that...water...for a minute, he thought he was...
The doctor ran a hand through his hair; clenched it into a fist.
...Maybe...this time...he'd deserved it.
He'd been so stupid! Who in their right mind would record a message to someone they love when they knew their captor could find it and use it against them? What kind of idiot would smile at something that was obviously supposed to make them upset?
...What kind of father would reveal his daughter's location to a psychopath?
He'd given her up. He'd told Khan about Joanna; put his only child's life in danger...and for what?
Khan lied. He made such a big goddamn deal of anybody else lying, but if Khan promised not to detonate a bomb in exchange for a confession...
The doctor shook his head.
...That wasn't what Khan said, was it? He'd been specific. He'd said that a bomb under a playground in Atlanta would go off at lunchtime if Leonard didn't admit Joanna was his daughter. Khan never said he wasn't ever going to detonate a different bomb...or even that one…at a different time…or for a different reason.
...Goddamn semantics.
Of course, this would've been the terrorist's plan all along. He was a terrorist. Blowing crap up was what terrorists did...
How could he have let himself think Khan put bombs everywhere just to keep him in line? Was his ego that out of control?
...How many people were dead?
The doctor touched the ring on his left pinky finger; thought back to that moment three weeks before, when Khan was lying, unconscious and bleeding out, on Nitika's biobed.
If he had just...
"...No." Leonard whispered. "I didn't do this…I'm not ta blame for what that bastard does...I'm not..."
The hiss of the medbay door made Leonard's empty stomach clench.
"Good evening, doctor."
Leonard took a deep breath in; let it out; looked up. Khan had a thermos in one hand, and a nutrition bar and jerky pack in the other.
More food he couldn't eat. He'd have to tell him...
"...Hello..."
"You appear to be far less...colorful...than when I left," Khan noted. "Are you feeling better?"
The doctor's hand went to his neck; he suppressed a shudder.
Like that asshole actually cared how he was feeling...
"Still sore," Leonard said. "Just healed as much as I could...I'm...um...I can talk a lot better."
The terrorist smirked. "I can hear that...and I see you finished the work I gave you this morning. Well done."
"...Thanks."
"Tomorrow, I will bring you..." Khan trailed off; frowned; gestured to the nutrition bar at the foot of the doctor's bed. "Have you not eaten today?"
Leonard glanced at his partially–eaten...he didn't know what meal to call it.
"It...hurts too much ta swallow."
"Did you take anything for the pain?"
"...I'm too afraid of tearin' somethin,'" Leonard confessed. "Coverin' up the pain so I can shove dry, scratchy foods down my throat could…end badly."
"Ah. That is...unfortunate."
"Yeah..."
The killer stared at him like he was an oddly–shaped puzzle piece; nodded to himself.
"I believe there are crates of instant potato mix somewhere in storage. Would you be able to eat that?"
Leonard relaxed a little. He didn't relish the idea of eating nothing but potato mush for the next few days...but he wasn't gonna starve.
"That should work...thank you."
"You are quite welcome, doctor. I would not want you to go hungry."
"...Okay."
The killer moved a little closer to the biobed; paused as the doctor tensed.
"Doctor, I know that yesterday's...punishment...was severe," Khan said. "However, it is a situation that never need be repeated; I am willing to salvage the rapport we were creating before your transgressions...if you are willing to behave."
...What.
"My...transgressions?" Leonard asked.
"Your lies," Khan gave him a condescending look. "You forced my hand yesterday; forced me to respond in a...regrettable...manner. But I am willing to look past that."
...Was...was he trying to say Leonard...forced Khan to torture him?
The doctor's fingers curled into fists.
Like hell!
That bastard had grinned from ear to ear whenever Leonard begged him to stop. He'd enjoyed it! He didn't get to stand there and…
...What if he yelled at Khan, and the psychopath decided to do it again?
...His lungs had felt like they were on fire...the water was so cold…
He shuddered; his hands unclenched.
"No one's forcin' ya ta do any of this," he mumbled. "Unlike some people around here...everythin' ya do is a choice y––"
"Is it?" Khan interrupted. "Tell me: if your perpetually innocent friend, Jim, were being held by someone who wanted to use him as a lab rat...or if your daughter were similarly detained...would you consider it a choice to do whatever you needed to do to rescue them? Be honest."
"I––" he stopped.
...What kind of question was that?
"No," Leonard shook his head. "I'd never kidnap someone, or torture 'em, or threaten to murder a bunch of kids ta make 'em do what I want. Ever."
Khan shrugged. "Perhaps not...but you would take someone's blood without their permission; use it in a way they would object to. You cannot deny that."
The doctor opened his mouth to object; caught himself.
...That was...true. He'd done that...two years ago. To Khan...so he could save Jim.
The killer chuckled. "You see? When your family is at stake, those rigid lines between morality and depravity; integrity and corruption...they crumble to dust. I am simply willing to take that concept to its logical conclusion. Your people will give in eventually. It may take a few more detonations...but I will have my family back."
Leonard lowered his head; tried to think of something noble to say in response to Khan's soliloquy...but his mind kept going back to the bombs.
"...Where was it?" The doctor asked quietly.
Khan tilted his head. "Where was what, doctor?"
"You know what I mean," Leonard sighed. "Where was the bomb you set off today? How many people did you kill?"
The doctor barely suppressed the urge to bolt as the killer moved to the foot of the biobed; set the food and thermos at Leonard's feet; crouched to his eye level.
"Are you certain you wish to know?"
Leonard slowly nodded. "I...I have to."
Khan grinned; the doctor tried to mentally prepare himself for a number in the hundreds...maybe even a whole colony...
"One."
The doctor blinked. "One?"
"An admiral," Khan nodded. "Admiral Nicholas Alston. I came across a communique about his...relocation. He was not difficult to find. The bomb may have injured a few guards...but as far as I could tell, Alston was the only fatality."
A wave of relief washed over him; immediately followed by horror at that relief.
One death and multiple injuries…even that was too much.
...And it didn't make sense.
"...Why?"
"Why Admiral Alston?" Khan's mouth twitched. "Is that what you mean? I told you before: there was a debt that needed to be repaid."
"...Okay…" The doctor nodded. "But...what debt? What did he do ta piss you off?"
Something unidentifiable flashed through the killer's eyes.
"Very well," Khan huffed. "If you must know...he gave your friend, Jim, the order to kill Nitika."
Leonard's stomach dropped.
...No.
Jim hadn't really…
No!
Of course not.
Khan was screwing with him. Again.
"Bullshit."
Khan chuckled. "Not your most eloquent retort, doctor...Although I do understand your resistance."
"'S'not resistance," Leonard couldn't help but glare. "Just anger. Ya don't want me ta lie to you, but you keep lyin' about Jim. He'd never kill––"
"I am not lying," Khan snapped. "Everything I have told you about Nitika's death is true. During my rescue operation, Kirk established an open comm channel to convince me to surrender. He left Nitika in that facility to 'remind' me why I should give myself up...And, when they thought I could not hear them, Admiral Alston ordered your friend to shut down Nitika's cryotube. To write it up as a glitch in the reports."
...No.
"Jim wouldn't––"
"I tried to revive her, but the power went out in Nitika's cryotube halfway through the process." Khan's eyes bored into him. "I had to set a charge to break through the transparent aluminum, or she would have been entombed inside it. You know what that led to. Believe me, or do not: it will not change the fact that Admiral Alston gave Kirk the order that led to Nitika's death."
…no…
Leonard closed his eyes; rested his forehead on his knees.
"He…"
Even, if in a fit of insanity, Jim had tried to follow that order...Spock would never let him do it...But god, Khan sounded so convincing!
...And Jim'd surprised him before. A couple years back, when Jim'd almost risked war with the Klingons to get revenge on Khan...he'd never thought Jim could do that either...what if––
A hand rested on his shoulder. He tensed, but it just gave a little squeeze; patted gently.
"It is alright, doctor."
The doctor's shoulders slumped.
He was so tired of fighting...
"You could not have known Kirk was capable of this."
...God, Khan was telling the truth, wasn't he?
How...how could Jim––
"He does not deserve your friendship. None of them do."
...Wait.
Leonard's breath caught; he opened his eyes.
...What the hell was happening?
The doctor glanced at the hand on his shoulder; looked up.
Khan's eyes gleamed with...triumph.
...Oh, goddammit! NO!
Leonard scrambled back so fast he kicked the thermos, food, and tricorder to the floor; almost fell off the far end of the biobed. He hugged his knees to his chest; tried to tamp down a wave of nausea.
Dear god, for a second he'd believed...dear god...
Khan blinked, his hand still suspended in the air where the doctor had been a moment before. He lowered his arm; the gleam left his eyes.
"Really, doctor?" The killer shook his head. "I offer you comfort, and you recoil? Does that truly seem like a good decision?"
"Just stop," Leonard's voice cracked. "Stop screwing with my head! Please...ya'v already got me over a barrel: you don't need ta––"
"I am simply helping you see the truth," Khan insisted. "The Federation lies, manipulates, and kills to bend the universe to its designs. They are not a moral society, no matter how much they pretend to––"
"Well, that's pretty goddamn rich, coming from you!" Leonard barked; froze. His throat stung a little from…
Oh, god...
The killer's eyebrows crammed into his forehead; his mouth became a thin line.
"Would you like to rephrase that?"
"I–I'm sorry," the doctor said quickly. "I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."
Khan stared at him a moment longer...and then hoisted himself onto the end of the biobed.
Leonard instinctively moved back; almost fell off the end again. His heart pounded; his mind did triple–time.
Khan was gonna choke him again...he was gonna...the water was gonna come back...
If he tried to get up; to run, the killer would just grab the chain and…
He had nowhere to go. He never had anywhere to go…
"I'm sorry! I'm––"
"Stop."
Khan sat cross–legged at the foot of the biobed. He didn't try to come any closer…
They stared at each other. Leonard didn't dare break the silence.
"I am not going to hurt you," Khan finally said. "I understand what it means to discover the universe is not what you were led to believe. You are only in the first stages of this awakening; you still cannot comprehend the horrors your people are capable of."
Leonard kept his mouth shut.
"I think it may be time for me to enlighten you," Khan nodded to himself. "Yes...it is well past time...Tell me, doctor: why do you think my crewmates did not recognize me three weeks ago? Why do you think they tried to kill me?"
"I…" He'd never understood what the hell had happened there... "I don't know...did something happen to their memories?"
Khan snorted. "No...but that was a decent guess. Nothing was wrong with their memories. They saw me; heard me call myself Khan Noonien Singh...and they understandably called me a liar and an impostor...Tell me why."
The doctor ran a hand through his hair; tried to think of how that could work.
...What if…
"Are...are you...not actually Khan?" Leonard asked.
The killer huffed in annoyance. "No, doctor, I am Khan Noonien Singh. The same one that went into exile all those years ago. I am not an impostor, or an ancestor with the same name. I know you are intelligent: take in the context of our conversation...and try one more time."
...Why did that 'one more time' feel like a threat?
...Probably because everything was a threat here...
Leonard closed his eyes; focused.
Nothing wrong with the memories of his crewmates...so...if he was really Khan, they should've recognized him straight off the bat...unless…
Leonard's eyes flew open.
...The context of the conversation...
'The horrors your people are capable of.'
Oh.
His eyes widened.
Oh, god…
"This isn't how you used to look, is it?" Leonard breathed. "Admiral Marcus...he had your face––"
"Not just my face, doctor," Khan growled. "He forced an entirely new identity upon me. To create John Harrison required far more than a few data files. They shaved my bones; stripped the melanin from my skin and eyes; altered my voicebox...and stole my memories."
...This couldn't be true. Who in their right mind would do something so––
"They failed to take my memories permanently…" The killer grimaced. "However, I have been unable to discard Harrison's damn British accent...that reprogramming ran too deep, and I doubt it will ever go away completely."
What doctors would do this? Who would abandon their oaths to––
"Now do you understand, doctor?" Khan leaned forward. "In my genetic code...and in my mind...I am still Khan Noonien Singh, born in Northern India; former ruler of nearly half the Earth...but that is not who I see when I dare to glance into a mirror. That is not who my people see when I come to their aide. My identity was stolen by Marcus and his doctors...and their theft has cost me four members of my crew."
...Was it true? Could Marcus have really––
"That is the Federation, doctor," Khan's...intensely blue eyes...burned with rage. "That is what you have sworn allegiance to."
...Dear god...it was true.
Leonard realized his mouth was open; closed it with a click of teeth. He looked away; tried to think of something to say; something to…
...What? Comfort the guy? After everything Khan'd put him through, did he expect him to––
"Doctor, you are being terribly quiet...Do you not believe me?"
The doctor looked up into his captor's...artificially blue...eyes. He needed to say something...
"...I believe ya," Leonard whispered. "God help me...but I do."
Khan's mouth twitched into a smile. "I knew you would be able to understand the truth, given the proper prompting."
...Leonard didn't think thinking about that comment for too long was a good idea.
"Have you…thought about tryin' ta reverse some of it?" The doctor asked. "It's possible...with modern tech…ta build onto existing bones; to replace the melanin they––"
Khan laughed dryly. "I doubt you would approve of the measures required to procure that equipment, doctor...and even then...there are very few images of my old face left in existence with which you could reference your work. You are the only Federation doctor I would trust to attempt the procedure...but it is not worth the risks."
Leonard blinked. "Did...did you just say you trusted me?"
The terrorist shrugged. "I trust you to not risk thousands of lives by intentionally killing me during the procedure...and I trust that you would never purposefully leave me disfigured, like past Federation doctors have. Beyond that...I am still learning who you truly are...As, I believe, are you."
Leonard shifted on the biobed; tried to think of a way to respond to that. This was all getting really weird; really frustrating; really––
His stomach growled loudly.
Khan chuckled. "I should find those potatoes, before you faint from hunger. Would you like me to see if there are any other soft foods in storage?"
...Well, there was no way in hell he was saying no to that.
"That'd be great...Thanks."
The killer rose.
"I will be back shortly. The thermos I brought you this evening is full of tea. It should still be warm; soothing for your throat."
"...Thank you."
Khan nodded; left without another word.
Leonard straightened his legs; stretched. There was still a slight twinge in his right leg from his fall a couple weeks before, and the position he'd been sitting in had aggravated it.
The doctor left the biobed; picked the thermos, food, and tricorder off the floor. He put the food in a storage crate; set the thermos on his biobed; went to put the tricorder away.
When Leonard reached the shelves, he paused; popped out the tricorder's scanner; passed it over himself with an oddly...shaky...hand; read the results.
...He was okay.
...He was okay...
Leonard set the tricorder on a bookshelf; leaned against it; sucked in a shuddering breath.
He was…
...So damn confused.