"Kate?" Just one syllable. One word. His voice. And all the breath is knocked out of her.
"Mike?" She whispers back.
She doesn't know how many seconds pass, or maybe minutes or hours, with her heart hammering in her throat. There's a buzzing in her ears, and she thinks it might be every word Mike Flynn has ever said to her, every moment they shared, horribly compressed into deafening pressure all around her. And she half expects Shrimp to flit around inside of her, as they often did whenever she thought of Mike, but a moment later remembers that, no, Shrimp isn't here, and she's so desperately alone with him.
"Kate?" He repeats, softer this time, a question in the air. And for a moment, she allows herself to entertain the notion that he might not know it was her, that she could hang up the phone and run. Perhaps he'd shrug, dismiss the dial tone and move on with his life like she so desperately longed to. But she knows he's not stupid. He knows her voice, just as she knows his. Knew. "Kate!"
Her throat is dry, and her voice falters as words tumble from her lips. "H-how did you get this number?" A stupid question, really. After all, now that the digits had been dialled, it didn't matter one iota how he'd gotten the bloody numbers. He had them. Knew she was in Canberra.
"Maxine." He answers simply, and she nods, even though he can't see her. Of course it had been Maxine. Two damn degrees of separation. What was that old Navy saying? No secrets below decks.
"Oh." She doesn't know what to say. Her hands are so sweaty, they're slipping on the plastic shell of the phone. Repositioning it slightly, she licks her lips. "Mike… calling me… I don't think-" She hesitates. Forces herself to breathe. Had it really only been minutes ago she'd been listening to Boxer's damned song about the two of them? And she had laughed… "I don't think this is such a good idea." The words tumble out in a rush. "You… we shouldn't be talking."
There's a moment in which she allows herself the fantasy of a dial tone, that Mike has listened to her and hung up the phone. But she knows he won't. Too damn stubborn, just like her. "You're probably right." He sighs in agreement. "But Kate… can we please meet?"
And later, as Kate stares up at the ceiling, she curses her stupidity and weakness. Mike claps his hands, she thinks, balling her own hands into fists, and you follow.
"You look nice." Mrs O comments as Kate clambers into the passenger seat the next morning, moving gingerly as usual to avoid pulling at her middle.
Kate blinks in confusion. She doesn't feel nice. She'd spent most of the night tossing and turning and now her eyeballs itch with tiredness, and her stomach is flipping over and over, equal parts sleep-deprived nausea and anxiety. Eventually, sometime just before dawn, she'd pulled herself from her bed and slapped on a layer of makeup to hide the bags from her eyes. She's not dressing up for him. No. More preparing her armour for battle. Of course, Mrs O doesn't know any of that. Kate has played the part of being okay for so long, she's even fooled those who knew her best, and Kate knows Mrs O is seeing what she wants to see. Kate, making an effort to get to normality. Kate, putting on makeup to feel better about herself.
Kate doesn't tell her it's makeup to hide the fact that her ex has suddenly called her. Doesn't tell her that she's terrified and anxious and she just wants to grab Shrimp and run. And, God, when did her reluctance to tell Mike about Amaya turn into actual fear of seeing him?
She doesn't say any of this.
"Oh." Kate forces herself to smile. "Thanks, O."
The car ride goes by in dizzying speeds, streetlights and trees and cars and buses all blurring past so that, when the car stops, it takes Kate a moment to register that they're already at the hospital. "Well," Mrs O smiles at her, turning to Kate. "Say hi from me."
"What?!" Kate jerks her hand back from the door handle as quickly as if it burned her. "Who…"
Mrs O frowns at Kate, eyes portraying a flicker of suspicion. "To Amaya, of course." She answers, curiosity tingeing her words. "Who else would you be meeting?"
Amaya calms her, with her ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. With Amaya, time doesn't seem to matter as much, and she spends her morning chatting animatedly to the little girl. Where she'd once found it awkward to talk to her, now Kate felt perfectly normal, and she talks to Amaya about Boxer's phone call, and how excited he was to meet her. She leaves out the lullaby (if one could call it that. She knows it won't make much of a difference right now, but she feels like a bad parent swearing in front of her). But she tells other stories too, adventures she and Boxer and Libby and Tommo and so many others had had. She talks so much that, when her watch beeps, she does a double take, wondering where all the time had gone.
"I've got to go, Little Shrimp." Kate murmurs, pressing a kiss on a finger, before touching it to the outside of the crib. "I'm sorry." She wants to say more, feels the need to ensure that her precious little girl knows that she's doing this for her, for Amaya and Kate to have a life free of fear and heartache. But a moment later, her shoulders sink. "I love you, Amaya."
Loathe as she is to leave the hospital, she knows it's safer to meet on neutral territory, and so she walks towards the agreed-upon café two streets away with butterflies in her stomach alongside the still-tender flesh. It's the furthest she's walked in a long time, and she knows that, if Mrs O found out, she'd be furious that Kate had pushed herself so much today. But Kate knows that, in the grand scheme of things, the walk is amongst the easiest thing about today.
She'd never realised how difficult it would be to be away from Amaya. It was as if there was a string tying the two of them together, and Shrimp was tugging and tugging at it, calling Kate back. And Kate's heart is beating out of rhythm, leaping and fluttering the further away she got. For the hundredth time, she checks that her phone is on, charged and within reception.
She fingers the baby rattle on the charm bracelet the Olinskys had gotten her. "I'm doing this for us, Amaya." She whispers, even though she knows her baby has long since left her earshot. "We'll be okay."
She'd hoped that she'd get there first, that she would be able to sit herself down without fear of Mike seeing her wince, or guess what her pudgy and deflated middle might mean. But every pedestrian light seems to be against her, and, taking a deep breath as she crosses the threshold, she spies Mike instantly, hands cupped around a mug of coffee.
Even though she'd put on makeup, she hadn't dressed for the occasion. Ever since her surgery, she'd dressed in tracksuit pants and the large, oversized hooded jackets she'd bought when she was pregnant. They're so long that hid her fingers with their sleeves. Before Amaya was born, she'd only ever worn them at home. But now, even though she feels less than glamorous, she's glad that they hide her shape completely.
Even so, she tugs the hem of the jacket down a little lower before moving forwards, as though looking to further build up her armour. Mike stands up the moment he sees her, so abruptly that he knocks into the table as he does. The salt shaker topples and falls over at the movement, clattering to the surface of the table. And, stupidly, Kate has a memory of Donna, and how she'd always toss a handful of salt over her shoulder if she knocked it over, to ward off her superstitions. How she'd curse at Kate every time she opened an umbrella inside, or walked underneath a ladder. You'll regret it one day, Katie, she'd chastised. One day all this bad luck is going to catch up with you!
At the time, Kate had thought it nonsense. Now she can't help but wonder whether this was some cosmic payback for her flippancy towards superstition.
Pushing Donna out of her mind, she moves forwards. She tries to slide into the chair opposite as gracefully as she can, but she still feels the pull in her pelvis as she does so. Thankfully though, Mike is busy righting the saltshaker, and doesn't see the look of pain across her face. By the time he's looked up, she's managed to rearrange her face back to what she hopes is a normal expression.
Normal, even though her heart is pounding in her throat.
Normal, even though she's just had this man's baby.
"Kate." He says her name softly. Smiles at her with that damned smile of his. "You… you look well." She almost laughs at the irony of his words. She doesn't think she's ever felt less well.
Tell him there's nothing left, a voice screams inside her head. Just get this moment over and then you never have to look at him again. Protect Amaya from the same thing you went through.
She realises suddenly, crushingly, that this is the real reason she is here. To hear him out, let him say his piece, and then say goodbye. It didn't matter what he had to say, what excuses or justifications he had to offer. She just had to get through this, and then she was free. Free to live her life with her daughter.
A few stray salt crystals are stuck to the side of his hand. She tries to fix her gaze on them, instead of his eyes, but she can't. And she finds herself taking in the small details of his face, trying to connect some part of his face to Shrimp. She'd forgotten, in their absence, how blue his eyes were, or the way his hair flopped just slightly too long to be standard Navy Regulation. But Amaya only has a few wisps of hair upon her head that are too thin and shot to tell whether they are blonde or brown or somewhere in between, and her features are still hidden until she puts on more weight. She was like a photograph, slowly developing in a chemical bath.
"Hi." She does her best to keep her voice indifferent, cool. She can't allow herself to betray any fear. She needs him to believe that everything is fine, that nothing was at all different or wrong, that there was no reason other than heartbreak for her reluctance. She needs him to believe that her heart was here, and not in some hospital room streets away.
Relief washes upon his face. He seems to have taken her reply as a positive sign. Perhaps he'd expected her to come, to slap him and leave. Or to start shouting the moment she arrived. She can't say she hadn't considered it; it would have been satisfying to say the least. "I… I wasn't sure you'd agree… when I called." He hesitates, but she doesn't dignify it with a response. She's trying to stay cool, trying to maintain her composure when all she wants to do is scream what the hell are you even doing here?! "I… I ordered you a coffee." He gestures towards the mug. It's been so long since she's had coffee; the strong scent is almost sickeningly overpowering. Liquid tar, he'd called it, when she'd first ordered one of her extraordinarily strong brews. It was a wonder he didn't see that as an indication of her Navy status.
The mere thought of coffee is enough to make her feel nauseas. While she was making an effort to eat at least a semi-decent meal three times a day, she still had no inclination to eat, no appreciation of taste. Even Vegemite, which she'd practically lived on throughout her entire pregnancy was enough to send her gut churning. She doesn't touch the coffee.
"Why did you want to meet?" She can't keep the weariness from her voice, the need to just get this over with and get on with her life. She feels as though she's poised to run at a moment's notice, tense. Like an animal that knew it was in the crosshairs.
"I guess…" Mike tenses, and Kate can tell he hadn't expected to be in the spotlight so soon. And although this situation is hardly ideal, she has to at least appreciate that he's had barely a fortnight to prepare what to say. She's had months. "Well, some stuff has been happening. And… and I wanted to talk to you." Even to his own ears, the justification must seem lame, because he winces. "I… I lost a friend recently. A good one. I don't know whether..."
He presents it like a question, and in spite of herself, Kate softens slightly. "Yes." She nods. "Yes, I did hear about that. I'm sorry. He sounded like a wonderful man."
"It was you then, with Maxine?" He confirms quickly. So he had seen her. She gives the tiniest of nods and he ploughs on. "Well, thank you. She said you were a great help. That you really listened to her and… and then she said 'Kate' and when I looked up…" He hesitates. Drags a hand over the stubble adorning his cheeks. And as she peers at him, she realises that he too looks as though he's tossed and turned a lot over the last few days.
"She was… she was really lovely." Kate murmurs, but stops herself. To describe someone as a lovely widow hardly seems an appropriate comment.
Mike doesn't seem to notice her awkwardness, intently focused as he is on his own words. "I… I see you all the time. In the shopping centre or… or on the street. But then I look closer and it's not you." She doesn't know what to say to this. Partly because she sees shadows of him too. "I know it's stupid." He settles on. "I just… I had to see you. When I found out you were here." He drags a hand through his hair, making it all the more unruly. "It's just that Canberra is the last place I thought I'd find you. You always seemed so…" He doesn't seem to be able to find the right words. Seems to have run out of things to say. She's tempted to keep quiet so that he can carry on and say everything he needs to and then get out of her life. But instead she finds herself speaking once again.
"Yeah, well… things change." She murmurs.
"Yeah. I'm finding that out." He nods soberly, before taking another sip of his coffee. She still hasn't touched hers. Is that all, she wants to ask. Had he brought her here simply to have her counsel him through his grief and hurt? Dragged away from her baby for this. She has to fight the urge to toss the drink in his face; only the knowledge that it is hot coffee stops her.
Suddenly, she realises that she doesn't want to give him any more of her time, doesn't want to exchange half-baked ideas on life and death and misery. She makes to stand, stitches be damned, but he holds a hand up to stop her. "No! Kate! Please! I wish we hadn't-" He shakes his head and corrects himself. "I wish I hadn't left things the way that I-"
"I need to go." Kate shakes her head. "Please, I don't want to hear-"
"I hate that I hurt you! You were the first person that made me question everything I thought I'd wanted." Kate digs blindly for her bag, the air in the café becoming heavier and heavier with each breath, each stupid too-late word. "It scared me, the feelings I had for you! But I hate that I hurt you and… and I don't want you to think it didn't mean anything. And, shit, we're good together, Kate! I know we've both changed and things have changed-" She has to smother a humourless laugh at his words, "-but what we had was real to me! And I miss… I miss sitting and reading with you. I miss touring around Sydney like tourists! I miss… I miss motion sickness from the rotor and feeling dizzy and… and terrified on top of a Ferris Wheel. And-"
"Stop! Please! I can't… I can't do this now. You can't say all of this now!" All of a sudden, she's realising just how colossal a mistake it was to come here. Mike has always had a horrible pull over her and now she's here, tired and hormonal and listening to current Mike and past Mike merge into the same person, all ready to tell her everything she wants to hear.
And she's terrified.
"Kate-" Mike makes to grab her arm, but she pulls it angrily from his grip.
"No." She shakes her head bitterly. "No, you've had your turn to speak. Now it's my turn, alright?" She waits for him to nod tersely before pressing on. "Don't you know how much this is killing me, to sit here and pretend to be okay?" She's losing control. She's not a Lieutenant. Not a mother. She's a broken-hearted girl. "I was in love with you! I mean, surely you know that. I loved you and… and I don't fall in love easily. Or ever. But you…" She shakes her head at her own stupidity, at the girl she'd once been. "You broke me. And there were days when I didn't want to get out of bed. Days when I thought about dropping out and… and running away. There were so many days I wished I'd never met you. And I had to see you! Every day! And pretend that we hadn't spent that time together and that it didn't mean anything. You don't have a clue how hard that was for me! Especially-" But she stops herself, just in time.
He stares her down, blue into green. "Especially what, Kate?" His voice is barely a whisper, but as she meets his gaze, she knows that he knows. That he has found out about Shrimp and everything that she'd tried to pack away into neat little boxes is about to get messy.
She takes a deep breath. "Look, I need to go." Amaya is pulling her back, tugging on her heart.
"Kate, please-"
"I just need to go."
"Kate-"
"I just want to leave, Mike. Please, please just let me leave!" She's near tears, pleading with him. And she's contemplating screaming so that someone will intervene, will save her before he says the words that will change their lives.
"Maxine said you were pregnant." Buzzing silence, even though coffee cups are still clattering and people are still talking. The world has stopped.
Shrimp isn't hers any more.
Kate's throat has gone dry. The words have been spoken, brought out into the open. "That's… that's not a question." She manages thickly. As if it makes a difference.
"Kate." His voice is barely a whisper. "Kate, please. Please, just tell me the truth."
He knows. He's not asking. He's seeking confirmation. "Yes." She murmurs, before meeting his eye, knowing what he's going to ask next. "And yes."
Mike's knuckles whiten atop the table, but he doesn't look that surprised. Deep down, he'd already known. "So… you… you and I-"
Kate lets out a bitter laugh at the phrase. "Mike, there is no 'you and I'. We're…" She rakes a hand through her hair.
"So my syntax and choice of phrasing is what we're going to discuss?! Fucking hell, Kate!" He slams a hand down on the table, sending the salt clattering again. Kate is only distantly aware of people staring at them. A waitress starts to make their way to them, either to help Kate or to ask them both to leave, but Mike holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry. I'm fine." He assures them. Gradually, the curious faces turn away, leaving Kate and Mike staring at each other once more.
Every beat of her heart is screaming at her to get back to the hospital and Amaya. She needs him to go. Needs to be clear of this dizzying power he has over her. "Look, you have your boats, Mike. You have your career. This doesn't need to change your life-"
"But it does! It changes everything just like it changed everything for you!" She leans forwards and tears open a packet of sugar, emptying it into her coffee even though she has no intention of drinking it. He watches her intently, and she realises, suddenly, that the coffee was a test. Her refusing it had alleviated any lingering doubts. She drops the empty packet back to the salt-scattered tabletop, watching the sugar crystals slowly dissolve. "Were you ever going to tell me?" Her answer must show upon her face. "Dammit, Kate! So you would have just kept this from me, from them our whole lives?"
"You left me!" Kate hisses indignantly. "You walked out! And when I tried to find you to tell you, you left again in the dead of night-"
"You could have found me! I haven't been bloody unreachable."
"And say what, exactly?" Kate throws her hands out. "Excuse me, I'm after Lieutenant Commander Flynn, he got me pregnant?!"
Mike shakes his head. "Something like that! Something instead of this."
"So if you knew I was pregnant, why prattle on about… about forgiveness and all that? What have you been doing in Canberra this last fortnight?"
"Trying to pluck up the courage to call you!" He snaps. "Waiting for you to call me!"
"Yeah, well… I've been busy." Kate mutters, unable to keep the spite from her voice. And at this moment, they're just two people glaring at each other. Mike has taken to shredding a napkin to control his bitterness and anger at her.
"You…" He looks as though he's about to yell. Then he takes a deep breath. Cracks his knuckles. "So… so you've got… how much longer?!" He challenges, sitting up straighter, as though trying to catch a glimpse of her belly underneath the table.
At this, all the fight leaves her body. For a moment, she'd been able to forget her fears in place of her burning rage. Now it returns in full force, and she slackens. "H-hospital." Her voice catches on the word.
"What?"
"Sh-Shrimp's in the hospital."
Mike's anger seems to disappear too. "You… you had them already?"
Kate bows her head, feeling the beginnings of her usual floodgate of tears. "I… I got sick. And they had to give me an emergency c-section. R-right after I left Maxine." She looks to him, and is even surprised herself to hear the desperation in her tone. "I had no choice, Mike. She had to come out or…"
"She?" Mike repeats.
"Yeah." Kate nods, swiping at her eyes with her shirtsleeves. "Her… her name's Amaya."
"Amaya?" He repeats, his voice barely a whisper. "Amaya." He says the name like it's some sort of incantation that can help them magically straighten their messy lives out.
"Yeah." Kate nods, and when she looks up, it's to see that Mike has tears in his eyes as well.
"Kate… I need to meet her." His voice cracks on the words. "Please. You owe me that."
She tries to muster up the strength to remember that she's a Lieutenant. That she's strong and in control… but as she looks into Mike's eyes, she realises that she's got it all wrong. She's not a Lieutenant here, just as he isn't a Lieutenant Commander. They're just Kate and Mike, trying to figure out their complicated futures.
They walk. Kate, in her months spent in the city, has become familiar with the winding streets and suburbs that spiral around the centre of Canberra and navigates easily. In any case, the hospital is not so far away, but in her tender state she can't deny she's slower than her normal pace, her middle still on fire and her insides just clinging on for dear life. Only once does Mike make a noise as though to enquire about her wellbeing, but she quickly dismisses it with a wave of a hand, and he makes no other indication that he has noticed she's not one hundred percent.
They walk through the hospital doors and through the floors and corridors up to the NICU, and there at least, she's able to distract herself as she shows him where to scrub his hands and where to store his belongings. They don't speak much otherwise, except the odd murmur of thanks at an instruction, or softly spoken directions.
When she'd been pregnant with Amaya, she'd thought that thinking like a Lieutenant was her best source of power and determination. Now, as she walks purposefully into what's quickly become her second home, she realises that she has a greater power. Mum, she thinks, as she leads the way to Amaya's crib. I'm a Mum.
And for the first time since Amaya had been born, she fully appreciates that she grew this beautiful girl, the best thing that she has done with her life. Her baby girl. She takes her normal seat, and sees that Amaya is fast asleep. "Hey, Shrimp." She whispers, leaning forwards. "I told you I'd come back." And just like she always does, she feels as though she could sit and look at Shrimp for hours and hours and that would be enough. With her ten little fingers and ten little toes.
There's a sharp intake of breath, and Kate looks up to see Mike, face white as a sheet. Both hands are clutching the back of the chair that Mrs O sometimes occupies, knuckles white as though it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"Mike?" She murmurs softly, but he barely blinks. He's staring at the crib, completely terrified, as though Amaya was a ticking time bomb instead of a baby. But Kate understands. She, at least, has been able to see the changes in Amaya each day, to see her slowly but steadily improve. But Mike… all he's seeing is the machines and wires, just like Kate had when she'd first come here. "Mike…"
"She's so small." He swallows hard, as though he's fighting back the urge to be sick. "God, Kate, she's just so small."
"Yeah." Kate agrees, her voice low. "But she's getting bigger." She taps the seat he's holding and, after a moment he takes it, perched upon the very edge of the seat as though preparing to spring from it and sprint at any moment. "It's okay." She murmurs softly. "She's okay."
She's cried enough tears to fill the oceans they both so dearly loved, but seeing Mike break down sends her eyes swimming with tears again. Mike is crying, sobbing into his hands. His shoulders shake as he hunches over, and Kate knows that it isn't just the NICU and Amaya that's causing this. It's Jeff and Maxine and Ryan. It's the unfairness of their parting and the secrets Kate has kept and the Navy and the shock of seeing anyone this frail.
He sobs, coming completely undone in front of her, and she reaches out without fully comprehending what she's doing. He takes her hand and grips it as though she's the only anchor to the world, still gasping for breath. "It's okay." She repeats, because it has to be. "She'll be okay."
It takes a long time for Mike to stop shaking. Even almost an hour later, as they sit in the cafeteria, Mike's hands are still trembling around his Styrofoam coffee cup, sending the surface of the liquid rippling. He's apologised about a hundred times already, great, shuddering blanket apologies that Kate knows to mean their breakup, his coldness, his absence, Kate's solitude and his breakdown.
But he says it again as he finally meets her eyes with his own, still red and blotchy ones. "I'm so sorry, Kate."
Kate shakes her head. "I've told you, Mike. I've… I've broken down more times than I can count."
He gives no indication that he accepts these words, instead dismissing them with an irritated jerk of the head. "I never realised… you're so brave, Kate." Kate blinks. Of all the things she's ever been called, brave is the very last thing she feels. "All the things you've done. Keeping her and… and still finishing your course and getting your promotion. Having her and being there day after day. I can't…" But he trails off. He begins picking at the lip of his cup, flaking off tiny pieces of Styrofoam with a thumbnail.
"I was coming to tell you, you know?" At this, Mike looks up in confusion, but she cuts off whatever he's about to say as she continues. "After graduation day, I… I came to find you, but you'd already left." Her own fingers find a deep scratch in the tabletop. She traces it backwards and forwards, like a talisman. "After I saw you with Maxine, I… I could barely think. I'd decided to come back and see you. To tell you. That's what Libby and I were arguing about. I was coming to tell you and…" She barely suppresses a shudder. She never wants to relive the terror of that night again. "I should have told you sooner. Properly."
"Well, I never gave you much reason to believe in me." He sighs. "It wasn't lies, you know. What I said… I meant it, Kate. You changed everything for me. I… it scared me. So I took the cowards way out and I ran."
Kate closes her eyes for a moment. Then she shakes her head. "What are we doing here, Mike?"
He resumes his picking of the cup. "Drinking coffee." He says with a wry smile. His cup is still full. She never ordered one to begin with. "I don't know, Kate. I'm… I'm supposed to be back in Cairns in three days. Part of me… well, part of me thought I must have made some sort of mistake, got it wrong."
"Would you have been happier if you had?"
Her question seems to hit him like a slap on the face. "How can you even ask me that?" He hisses back at her. "How can you…" But he stops himself yet again. "Kate, I never expected to be a father. I never… I never thought this would be a decision I'd have to make."
"I know." Kate bows her head. And says the words she knows she needs to. "You… you need to go back to Cairns."
"You tell me. How do I just walk away? Leave her? Leave you?" Kate has no answer for him. Not really. She knows that she couldn't just walk away, if it was her. He abandons the coffee. Drops his head into his hands. "I don't know what to do here, Kate."
"Life… life was so much simpler when I was all set to do this myself. I never thought…" Yet again, she has no idea how to finish her sentence.
He sits up, shaking his head. "This is bullshit, Kate." He whispers. "It's just… just bullshit." She can't argue with him.
"You need to go back to Cairns." She repeats, more forcefully. And even though her heart might just be breaking over again, it's the most in control she's felt in a long time. "Mike," She reaches across the table and takes his hands. "I'll look after her. I promise. But… but we both know that you need to go back."