Chapter 11

A/N: Real life has been chaotic, so everything has sort of been on hold, but here's a chapter! And also I switched to online school so hopefully that means I'll actually get my time together and write some stuff. We'll see.

It was late evening when Harry's shift ended. The first thing he did was go to Cassie's quarters. After ringing the chime a few times and getting no response, he was worried.

"Computer, locate Cassandra Zemnieks."

"Cassandra Zemnieks is in the gymnasium."

Harry frowned and started walking. He wondered why Cassie was in the gym. He hoped she was alright. When he walked in and his eyes sought her out and, not finding her in the main room, he noticed a forgotten door in the corner was opened and there was music playing in the room. He walked in. Cassie was there, in front of one of a row of punching bags, beating it senselessly. Harry didn't even know they had punching bags until now. Cassie was breathing hard, throwing her fists and her legs against the bag. The music was loud, as Harry had come to expect from Cassie.

"Computer, pause music," Harry ordered. Cassie stopped when the music faded out, breathing hard and turning to Harry. She nodded to him.

"Harry. Hey," she greeted, curtly. She walked toward him and then past him, picking up a water bottle and drinking deeply. There was a towel of some sort there, too, and she picked it up and swiped it across her head, wiping the sweat off her face.

"Um, hey," Harry answered, not sure what to make of her change in attitude.

"What's up?" Cassie asked, voice still curt.

"Um, nothing really. I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he answered. Cassie set the water bottle down and started back towards the punching bag.

"Fine," she answered, swinging her knee up into the punching bag and grunting when it made contact.

"Um, what are you doing?" Harry asked, cautiously. Cassie chuckled once, wryly.

"Taking my frustration out on this punching bag. I don't figure you're good enough at stick fighting yet for me to beat my frustrations out on you that way," she answered, continuing to throw blows at the punching bag in quick succession.

"Oh. You wanna talk about it?" he asked, gently.

"Nope. Like I said, I'm fine. If you want to join me you're welcome to stay, but otherwise I'd rather be alone. Small talk and extreme anger don't go well together," she said. Her hair was up as much as it could be, and there was a headband in her hair. Her neck was slick with sweat and the stray hairs stuck there. Harry wondered how long she had been at this. His thoughts turned back to what the Captain had said.

"I'd like to stay, if that's okay," he said. Cassie nodded, pulling away from the punching bag, breathing heavily. She nodded towards the wall.

"Come over here, I'll wrap your hands," she ordered, making her way to the wall. Harry followed obediently. Cassie bent down and retrieved a roll of black fabric. Harry noticed then that her hands were wrapped in that same type of black fabric, providing a sort of padding between her hands and the bag.

"Hand," Cassie ordered, holding her hand out expectantly, palm up. Harry held his hand out.

"Like this," she ordered, holding her free hand out, palm down, fingers spread. Harry copied her. He thought he heard a bit of amusement in her voice. He had only known her a few days, and he had seen so many sides of her already. The happy and the sad and the numb and this new curt, matter of fact, somewhat angry part of her. She took hold of his arm firmly and began wrapping the fabric around his wrist with practiced ease. After a few moments, she secured it at his wrist and bent down to pick up the other roll of fabric. She grabbed his other hand and began wrapping.

"Done. Punch with your first and second knuckle, not your pinky. Rotate when your arm is nine tenths extended and not before. Don't stick your elbows out. Left foot in front of right, bounce a little and shift your weight towards the bag when you throw a blow. If something starts bleeding, stop," Cassie instructed over her shoulder as she turned back to walk to her punching bag. Harry scrambled after her, taking up a space at the bag beside hers.

"Computer, resume music," Cassie ordered.

The music that filled Harry's ears was unfamiliar but not bad. He watched Cassie as she began throwing quick punches at the bag again, studying the way she moved and running her instructions through his head. After a few minutes of watching, he tried to copy her. He didn't think he'd done too badly and started analyzing what he'd done wrong before trying again. Harry was so absorbed in trying to figure out what he was doing wrong that he didn't notice Cassie had stopped her own jabbing and was watching him with a critical eye.

"You're too stiff. Bend your knees and bounce on the balls of your feet. Don't be afraid to shift your weight and keep moving. And keep tension here," Cassie ordered, her hand finding his lower left side and twisting it back so his muscles were taut. Harry held the tension when she removed her hand and resumed her own work. He bent his knees and bounced experimentally, shifting his weight forward and backward a few times. He tried throwing a punch again, and it almost looked like Cassie's did.

"Good. Keep practicing," Cassie ordered. She had shown no sign of watching him, but she must have been.

Harry unzipped his uniform jacket and shucked it off, rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt. He hadn't planned on this or he would have changed, but he didn't want to leave Cassie alone. He figured this wasn't a bad thing to know, either. He continued to attack the bag, stopping every once in a while to watch Cassie and try to improve by copying her movements. She was just so quick, and she moved so fluidly. One blow would barely be over before another one was landing. Harry decided he was glad she was taking her anger and frustration out on the bag and not on him.

It was almost an hour later that the music faded out and off and Cassie stopped her constant flurry of movement, walking over and drinking from her water bottle deeply. Harry stopped when she did, covered in sweat and aching. Cassie was breathing heavily when she pulled the water bottle away from her mouth. She held it out to him. Harry hesitated, then took it and drank deeply. He was thirsty, he realized, and exhausted and sore. He handed the bottle back to Cassie and she took another swig before she set it down.

"Hand," she ordered, holding out her hand. Harry held his hand out the same way as before and she unwrapped it. Then she did the other one before she started working on her own hand wraps. That was one of those things about Cassie, Harry was beginning to realize. Even when she seemed cold, she did little things to take care of the people around her. She finished unwrapping her hands and threw the wraps in a bag Harry hadn't realized she'd brought. She threw the water bottle in there too.

"Harry?" she asked. Harry turned to her.

"Yeah?" he asked. A slight smirk pulled on her lips.

"A cold bath now will help with the soreness," she said, then she turned and walked out. Harry followed her quickly.

"Meet me for dinner?" he asked, hopefully. Cassie sighed, considering.

"Fine. I'll meet you in an hour in the mess hall," she answered. They went their separate ways, each to their own quarters.

Once Harry got to his quarters, he debated about whether or not to take Cassie's advice about the cold bath. His muscles hurt, and he knew Doc would give him something, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to explain himself. He examined his knuckles and found that they were splattered with dark new bruises, and they ached. Yet another thing Harry didn't want to explain. With a sigh, he drew himself a cold bath.

Cassie got back to her quarters and turned the cold water on in the tub. Her muscles ached a bit from lack of use. She knew the muscles she used were ones she already had and had already built up from the time she was pretty young, but a month of being bed bound and sick had done a number on her, and she knew even with the cold bath she would be sore tomorrow. As she stripped, she began to take stock of the bruises on her body. There were the ones on her knees, the inside bend of her thighs, even her ankle. The dark bruises across her knuckles throbbed but they, too, would heal, she knew from experience. She could have worn gloves, probably should have, but she had wanted to feel the pain. And she wanted to feel the bruises as they slowly healed. It was her way of reminding herself that everything healed in time, and she would do the same. Even if, like her bruised knuckles, that felt implausible right now.

True to her word, exactly one hour later Cassie met Harry outside the mess hall. She didn't say anything as they walked in, and he hadn't expected her to. He let her think in silence. Cassie glanced down at Harry's hands as they sat down with their food, noting the bruises scattered across his knuckles. Guilt twisted in her stomach. At the least she should have made him wear gloves.

"Harry, you okay?" she asked, softly, the first words she'd spoken since they'd met outside the mess hall. Harry looked up, his dark hair falling out of his eyes.

"I'm fine. Why?" he asked. Cassie sighed.

"Your knuckles. You're probably sore, too. I should have made you wear gloves," she muttered. Harry shrugged.

"Hey, it's not a big deal. I'm fine," he answered, trying to be nonchalant. Cassie grimaced.

"You're not used to the ruthless punishment of long hours at a punching bag without proper gear. I should have made you wear gloves, at the least. I know better," she grumbled. Harry reached out and lifted her chin with a gentle finger, meeting her eyes.

"Cassie, it's the twenty-fourth century. I can just go to sickbay and have Doc fix me up," he said comfortingly. Casssie smiled, just slightly.

"Why didn't you, then?" she asked.

"I didn't want to have to explain it," Harry said, honestly. Cassie chuckled and shook her head.

"Sounds about right. After we finish eating, though, we're going down and you're going to let Doc fix you up," she said, leaving no room for argument.

"Okay," Harry agreed. He eyed the bruises on her knuckles, and she noticed.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm used to this, and my body is, too. If I don't let it heal on its own it won't readjust," she almost snapped. Harry raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay, geesh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, his tone light. Cassie sighed.

"The bruises...they help. They remind me everything heals if you give it enough time," she almost whispered. Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything.

After they finished and cleaned up, Cassie dragged Harry down to sickbay. Except sickbay wasn't empty. There was one other person, a woman with her blonde hair twisted up and out of sight, with strange technological things on her face. She was standing very straight as the Doc scanned her. Harry smiled at her a bit.

"Oh hey, Seven, didn't mean to interrupt," he said.

"You are not interrupting. We were just finishing," Seven answered with a pointed look at the Doctor, who sighed.

"We were, actually. You're in perfect health, Seven," he agreed. Seven turned and her eyes landed on Cassie.

"I am not familiar with you. What is your designation?" Seven asked, eyebrow raised. Cassie let out startled laugh.

"I'm Cassie," she answered. Seven nodded.

"I am Seven of Nine, but you may call me Seven."

"Okay, cool, Seven. What's that thing on your face?" Cassie asked, feeling emboldened by Seven's manner.

"That is my bionetic implant. It is leftover from my time as a borg drone."

"Huh. What's a borg drone?"

"You are not aware?"

"No. If I was aware, why would I be asking?"

"You are the time traveller."

"I suppose I am."

"The Borg collective is a highly technologically advanced species. It has gained its technology and wealth of knowledge by assimilating every race it comes across and technologically joining them to a hive mind. Members of the hive mind are called drones. I was a drone, until Captain Janeway liberated me and taught me how to be an individual."

"Huh. So Ori except with technology instead of religion. Fascinating."

"Explain."

"Oh, it's a 2020 thing."

"Elaborate."

"Okay, well, the Ori were the villains on this TV show I love. They were highly advanced beings who had learned how to ascend to a higher plane of existence. They sent these prophets, the priors, to all of these planets that basically forced them to convert to Origin, the religion of worshipping the Ori, or die. As more people began to worship them they got more powerful and more people began to worship them."

"That is an apt parallel."

"I thought so."

"I wish to converse with you more."

"Okay. Not now, though, I just wanted to make sure Harry actually came and got himself fixed up before bed. Tomorrow, maybe?"

"That is acceptable. Goodnight."

"Night, Seven."

Seven nodded and Cassie nodded back at her before Seven walked out.

"Well, that was interesting," Harry noted. Cassie smiled.

"I like her. She's intriguing," she declared.

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard someone say they like Seven just after meeting her. Usually it takes people some time to become accustomed to her mannerisms," the Doc chimed in. Cassie shrugged.

"She's blunt. I can appreciate that. It makes it easier to talk to people sometimes if you know they're always saying what they mean," she said.

"I agree. Anyway, did I hear something about Mr. Kim being injured?" Doc asked. Harry sighed.

"I'm fine, Doc, just some bruised knuckles. But Cassie insisted I let you fix me up," Harry grumbled.

"Come over here," Doc ordered, gesturing to a biobed. Harry went and hopped up on the bed obligingly. The Doctor picked up his hand and examined the bruises, then got a dermal regenerator and began healing them.

"How did this happen?" he asked.

"It's my fault, actually. Harry joined me in my punching bag beating and I didn't make him wear gloves," Cassie spoke up, guilty.

"Punching bags? Do you need healed as well?" the Doctor asked.

"Nah. I like letting the bruises heal themselves. That way they're harder to bruise the next time."

"There's no proof of that," the Doctor countered, switching which hand of Harry's he was working on.

"Call it an experience thing. Plus the pain is sort of a spiritual thing for me. It's hard to explain."

"Fine. But if you become more severely injured I'm healing you whether you like it or not," Doc grumbled.

"I can live with that," Cassie agreed. The Doctor released Harry's hand.

"All done. And wear gloves next time," he said. Harry nodded.

"Will do. Thanks, Doc. See you later," he answered, hopping off the biobed.

"Goodbye Mr. Kim, Cassandra," Doc answered. The duo left.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Harry asked Cassie as they walked.

"If you don't mind, yes," she answered. Harry smiled.

"Not at all. I'll see you soon."

"Okay. See you soon."

A/N: I do not know how to box and/or hit a punching bag correctly, but I did some research and watched some videos to try and keep it as accurate as possible. If you do know how and reading this makes you cringe, well, sorry.