Chapter 4 -- Difficult Decision

Táhirih was waiting in the living room when Cole and Mel joined her. "Well?" she asked Cole without preamble.

"The child is strong. The mother…" Cole hesitated, his expression grim.

"She's dying," Táhirih said, nodding. "I thought so."

Cole sighed. "She will survive until the birth. She won't allow herself to die before she's named that child."

"Beyond that?" Táhirih asked. "Can she reasonably be expected to survive much beyond that?"

Cole hesitated for a moment. "She has a chance once the body is her own again. The child is a severe drain on her reserves, but once that drain is removed…"

"Is such a drain normal?" Táhirih asked. "I've never dealt with a pregnant Nodulian before."

Cole nodded. "It is normal, yes. Nodulians begin storing extra fuel almost a year before they conceive. Humans don't bother, so Jenin's body was ill-prepared."

Táhirih nodded slowly and handed him the bottle of zinc solution. "I'll be back tomorrow. Hopefully I'll have the equipment in hand to do a more thorough examination. Not that it's really needed given your input but…" She hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "The Taskforce will be… curious as to the… disposition of the mother, Kedriss Daggon."

Cole went pale and stared at her. "I can not Collect a mother and leave her child helpless and without a family." He shook his head firmly.

"You may not have a choice. Gwen, Kettai, and I have talked. The Taskforce is very concerned about your leniency with certain of the fugitives."

Cole was swaying on his feet, shaking his head and moving his mouth soundlessly. Mel hurried to his side and helped him into an armchair.

"You can't make Cole do that," she told Táhirih, shaking her head.

"I can't make him do or not do anything. But others can. You should be aware."

Cole shook his head, jumping to his feet again. "It is not an acceptable option!" he snapped, shaking his head. "I can not do that to her after everything she's lost! I won't be the one to take another daughter from her!" He sunk into the chair again, tears in his eyes. "It would be wrong," he whispered, looking up at Táhirih desperately for a moment before dropping his head and staring dejectedly at the floor.

"I know," she replied in a quiet voice. She reached into her bag and pulled out a few more bottles, all bearing labels in some alien script. "You know what these are and how to administer them. I leave the fugitive to your care for now and… I'll talk to Kettai and Gwynlyn about…" She hesitated. "Doing the right thing."

Cole's head shot up. "Thank you, Táhirih," he whispered, nodding.

"You have friends in the Council, Kedriss Daggon. You should know that."

"A couple of weeks ago, Kettai told him that he had enemies on the Council," Mel pointed out.

"And he does," Táhirih agreed, nodding. "But they say in the Taskforce that no one makes enemies by a stand without also earning himself allies." She looked down as her pager went off. "I really must go. Good afternoon to you both." Nodding politely to each, she turned and left.

Mel watched Cole anxiously as he sat in silence, examining the bottles Táhirih had left.

"Cole, why don't you tell me some more about Jenin. You seem awfully friendly towards her considering that she's a convicted killer." She winced, aware that this sounded incredibly judgmental. She had not meant for it to.

Cole looked up at her, shrugging. "Jenin and I were never exactly friends in the traditional sense, Mel, but we… understood each other very well."

"You… understood each other?" Mel repeated uncertainly.

Cole nodded. "Perhaps if I tell you about her crime, you will understand, Mel. I once seriously considered committing a similar one." Ignoring Mel's stunned look, he explained, "Jenin was a scientist, a geneticist. A few years after her marriage, her husband died in a laboratory accident. His death left her wanting to die. She only had one thing left to live for. There was a child of the marriage, Mel, a little girl."

Mel's eyes widened. She suddenly had a very good idea where this story was going.

"Her daughter, Sella, was murdered shortly after her husband's death." Cole swallowed and took a deep breath. His chest and throat felt tight. "The killer was caught quickly. While he was awaiting transfer to Sar-Top, Jenin broke into his holding cell and… she killed him."

"My God," Mel whispered, staring at him. "Are you okay? This can't be easy for you."

"It isn't, Mel. So much about it reminds me of Ashi and Nallia. Of Rhee."

Shaking her head, she closed the distance between them and gathered him into her arms. "You poor baby," she sighed, shaking her head.

Cole returned the hug gratefully. He had to be strong in front of Jenin, for her sake and her child's sake, but with Mel it was different. With Mel, he could be Cole instead of Daggon. Not some stoic Tracker who remained completely unmoved by events around him, but a man with a past that was sometimes painful beyond words. He could feel and express those feelings, and she would not mistake it for weakness or think that it made him any less capable of doing his job. Mel understood.

"There is more, Mel," Cole said quietly after several minutes spent in silence, drawing solace from her presence and her touch.

Mel looked up at him and gently brushed his hair out of his face. "What is it, Cole?"

He sighed deeply. "Kres is the father, Mel."

"Oh, God," she whispered, looking up at him. "Are you okay, Cole?"

"I honestly don't know, Mel. Táhirih was correct to ask what I will do with Jenin after the child's birth. I… I have a duty to Collect her, but… morally I don't think… I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it. I chose between never allowing her to see her husband again and never allowing her to see her child again." He shook his head, slipping his arms around her again, needing the comfort and warmth that her touch could provide.

Mel closed her arms around him again and gently rubbed his back with one hand, blinking against the tears that she felt threatening. This once, she knew, she needed to be the strong one.

"Cole, I want you to understand that… no matter what you decide, I am here for you."

Cole lifted his head from where he had buried it in her shoulder and regarded her with hope and love in his eyes. "Thank you, Mel," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

Mel smiled and gently stroked his throat with one hand, keeping the other on his back. "Whatever you decide, Cole, I will support you and stand by that decision."

"Thank you, Mel." Cole smiled at her and shifted slightly, brushing his lips against hers. "Your help and understanding mean a great deal to me," he whispered, his lips brushing hers with every word. "I don't know what I would have done without you this past year."

Mel closed her eyes and leaned back marginally, hating herself for it. "Don't," she whispered, shaking her head.

"You don't like it?" he asked sadly.

"I do, Cole. That's the problem. You don't want to be distracted, remember?"

"But, Mel," he began to protest.

She shook her head firmly. "I'm sorry, Cole. You're very emotionally vulnerable right now. It would be like taking advantage of you."

He nodded slowly, regretfully. "Okay, Mel. But can we hug some more?"

"Of course we can, Cole." Mel nodded and tenderly pulled him into her arms again. "You want to talk about this?" she offered quietly.

Cole shook his head, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I don't even want to think about it, Mel," he told her in a low voice.

"Well, that probably is something you're going to have to do before long, Cole," Mel pointed out quietly.

"I know. Doesn't make it any easier, though, Mel."

"I know it doesn't, Cole." She sighed deeply. "We'll get through this. I'm here for you."

He nodded, looking up as someone rapped on the apartment door. Knowing Mel's stance on public displays of affection, he reluctantly pulled away. As she rose to answer the door, he gathered the bottles into his hands and carried them into the kitchen. He looked up as Mel ushered Vic into the living room, both looking worried.

"… don't know what they could have been talking about, Vic," Mel was saying, shaking her head. "Here, have a seat. Cole, could you make Vic a cup of tea?"

"Okay, Mel." Cole nodded easily, placing the bottles into the drawer near the refrigerator where Mel kept her own medications. "I'll make a pot. I think everyone could use some."

Mel gave him an anxious smile as he put the kettle on a burner. "Thanks."

Vic regarded the interaction wordlessly. "So you have no clue why a pair of paralegals might have thought Cole assaulted someone?" he asked Mel, never taking his eyes off of Cole. "Or why he was subsequently assaulted by an unnamed barmaid whom I can only assume to be Gwen Angelo?"

Cole turned and tilted his head curiously at Vic. "Why would Gwen assault me, Vic?" he asked innocently. "We're good friends."

Mel was glad that Vic's attention was focused on Cole, because she could not entirely avoid giving the Cirronian an incredulous look at those words. It was as close as she have ever seen him come to lying.

"To keep you from assaulting this other young woman, perhaps?" Vic suggested, frowning at him.

"There was no assault!" Mel snapped, her tone perhaps a bit too defensive. She sighed and lowered her voice. "Look, Vic, did someone file a complaint?"

He shook his head slowly. "The couple having lunch here just filed a report. So far, the young woman in question has not stepped forward to file a complaint."

"Perhaps that is because 'the young woman in question' was not, in fact, assaulted," a low voice suggested from the hall.

The Nodulian was standing in the hall, unsteady on her feet, regarding the new arrival warily. Mel revised her initial guess at Jenin's age from 'not quite twenty' to closer to eighteen. If that old. She looked so young… and very, very sick.

"Jenin." Cole quickly moved from the kitchen and to the Nodulian's side, brushing past the humans in the living room as if they were not there. He slipped one arm behind her back and gently grasped her arm with his free hand, steering her to the couch. "You should be in bed," he pointed out as he helped her sit. "You require rest. Both of you."

"I heard voices. I wanted to see--"

"Hush," he urged gently. "This is Detective Vic Bruno. He is a very good friend of Mel's." He brushed her hair out of her face. "You don't have to worry."

Vic watched with wide eyes. "This would be…"

"The young woman in question." Jenin looked up at him with wide eyes. "Your witnesses are mistaken as to what they think they saw. Cole would never harm me."

Vic regarded her curiously, his observant eyes taking in every detail, from her slightly bulging stomach and painfully thin features to her tailored maternity clothes and designer shoes. She had money in spite of her malnourished appearance. Ill, perhaps, or suffering an eating disorder. The detail that really struck him, though, was the caged look in her eyes, and the fear. Fear that lessened substantially when Cole wrapped an arm around her shoulder and whispered unintelligibly in her ear. She gave him a trusting look and a little nod, leaning into him before returning her attention to Vic.

"Vic, this is--" Cole began.

"Alice Marquette," Jenin provided when he seemed about to falter. "We're cousins," she explained quietly. "Cole is… helping me." She rested a protective hand on her stomach.

"Then what those people saw?"

"A rather too enthusiastic greeting and an excitable young woman's startled over-reaction," Jenin said with a faint smile. She looked up as the kettle whistled. "I'll get it," she offered.

"You stay," Cole ordered firmly, rising. "You must rest. I'll get it."

Jenin nodded submissively and bowed her head, staring at the hands folded over her stomach and willing the human man to stop staring at her. She knew exactly what he was thinking, too. It was what humans always thought when they saw her. How does a seventeen year old girl from an obviously nice family get herself into that kind of trouble? It might even have been amusing to her if there had not been so much on her mind.

Vic walked over to the couch, crouching in front of her. "Alice, maybe you should come down to the station anyway?" he suggested gently. "Give a statement. Or I can take one here, bring it by for your signature?" He hesitated, wondering how to phrase his next words. Cole seemed to have a habit of picking up young strays of the female variety, and Vic could not recall ever having seen him with a grown woman who did not work at or frequent the Watchfire. Not that Mel would have put up with any illegal goings on along those lines, but Mel also possessed an enormous blind spot with regards to Cole. "Do your parents know you're here?"

Her head shot up and she fixed him with an icy stare. "My parents are dead, Detective Vic Bruno."

Vic winced. "I'm sorry, sweetie…"

"Don't call me that," she said bitterly. "The only man with a right to call me that no longer walks among us."

"Jenin," Cole whispered gently, squeezing her shoulder from behind. When she looked up, he shook his head gently. "Why don't you take your tea in the bedroom? I'll sit up with you until you can fall asleep."

She nodded and rose, stalking from the living room with Cole close on her heels, his expression worried.

Mel glanced at Vic, who looked absolutely mortified by the turn the conversation had taken. She shook her head. "Come on, Vic. I'll get you that tea. It's cold out, it'll help you warm up."

He shook his head. "I should just go. I'm sorry to intrude."

"Vic, don't be like that," Mel sighed. Knowing that Vic's cop-senses were no doubt all over this situation, she felt it necessary to maintain a façade of normalcy. Besides which, he was her friend, and obviously uncomfortable. "We can drink it downstairs," she offered.

Vic sighed and nodded, following Mel down the stairs.

"I'm sorry about that. She's been really on edge lately," Mel told him, pouring two glasses of scotch. Vic was not much of a tea drinker anyway.

"I noticed." Vic smiled wryly.

"She's due in a few days and really worried about the baby. She's been sick."

"I noticed that, too." Vic frowned. "Maybe she should be in a hospital?" he suggested gently.

Mel smiled and nodded. His concern for those around him was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. It was part of the reason she still cared for him so much. "That's being taken care of as we speak. Cole's got probably the most qualified doctor in the city for cases like hers looking after her."

Vic nodded. "Good to hear." They sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping their tea. "So, Mel…" he began.

"Please don't," Mel whispered, knowing that tone of voice. He was about to ask her out again.

Vic's expression was pained, but he nodded. "Okay, Mel. I'll get back to you."

"You just don't give up, do you?" she asked sadly.

Vic shrugged helplessly. "Depends on what I'm after. In the cases of suspects or women who are out of this world, no. Never give up, never surrender."

"Right…" Mel smiled and shook her head.

***

"Kres really called you that? Sweetie?" Cole asked, perched on the edge of Mel's bed as Jenin sipped her tea.

She nodded, staring reflectively into her mug. "Strange, isn't it? We never used endearments on Sar-Top, but here he just picked up this little human word." She shook her head, looking up at him. "He didn't know, sir. I never got a chance to tell him."

Cole frowned faintly. "Jenin, don't call me sir. Call me Cole like you were earlier. It's my name."

"Daggon is your name, sir."

"Cole is just fine," he told her, ignoring the comment. "If you don't stop calling me sir, I am going to have to stop using your familiar name and start addressing you by your full name and title."

She blinked and grinned slyly. "Take you awhile to get it all out, sir," she teased.

"Yes, it will, Jenin Nalita Alana Mea A'a Norn'alat Sella'tra Kres'alah Ni'tra." He smiled sweetly at her, his expression amused. "I mean it, Jenin. Call me Cole, or Daggon if you must, just not sir."

She chuckled and nodded. "Okay, okay. Cole. Gods, just don't come out with all that again."

Cole smiled and nodded gently. "Perhaps you should sleep now?" he suggested.

"I doubt I'll be able to."

"Then I'll put you to sleep," he offered.

She nodded, then stopped. "I never got to tell him," she repeated sadly. "I never got to say goodbye."

Cole rose and extended his hand. "Come."

She nodded and slipped her hand into his, rising and following him into his war-room. She looked around with wide eyes. She had automatically assumed that the equipment with which he did his job was Tracker Corps general issue. It had never occurred to her that he might be forced to cobble it all together from bits and pieces of primitive Terran technology. Amazing. Her respect for him grew.

"This computer monitors the strength of the fugitive life-forces." He entered a few commands into the keyboard. "This one is Kres' read-out. Strong and healthy, Jenin. He'll remain suspended that way until his return to Sar-Top."

Jenin stared at the computer monitor, reaching out and touching the wave-form on the screen. "That's really him?"

Cole nodded. "That's him. His life-force, his consciousness. Every one is a little different, unique to the individual."

"My love," she whispered, tears in her eyes. She touched her fingers to her lips and then to the screen, shaking. "Goodbye. Until the currents bring us together again."

Cole wordlessly closed his arms around her as she turned from the screen, tears in her eyes. There were tears in his own eyes as he tucked her into bed and eased her into sleep with a gentle burst of energy.