Author's note: Chapter two! Hope you are enjoying so far. I've enjoyed this whole series but I think this is my favorite version (I have a lot of chapters written already!) If you are waiting on A Helping Hand…bear with me! I've put it down for a break, but I will be picking it back up again. I already have some ideas. Okay, on with this one! Happy reading….dark rolling sea.
CHAPTER TWO
It had been three days since Mike had sent Tom to his room. Whatever happened that night had changed Tom. The distractions on duty were still there, but the darkness surrounding his friend seemed to be lifting. It wasn't completely gone, and Mike got the sense that a new problem may have begun to creep up on his best friend. It had also been three days since he had broken down with Garnett. He had thought about it a lot, mostly the feel of her hand in his. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he was pushing limits within himself, but he just couldn't let it go. He was in the wardroom, his meal finished, and it was late. He was off watch, one of his few nights where he was off. His plate finished he sat and stared at the wall. It was better to sit and stare here, then pretend the demons weren't worse in his stateroom.
He thought about where else on the ship he could go, knowing that sleep was hours, or possibly further, off for the night. The officer lounge he thought. It was late enough it should be empty. He opened the hatch and froze for a brief second. Commander Garnett was on the couch, feet propped on the table in front of it, watching something on the television. Her head turned quickly and peeked at who had intruded. A look passed over her face, but Mike couldn't read it.
Mike stood, indecision gripping him, hand still on the hatch. He finally broke the hold and stepped inside, closing the hatch behind him. He looked over at her.
"Mind some company?" Mike asked quietly. Garnett smiled softly at him and tilted her head towards the other end of the couch.
"It's fine," she said. Mike nodded and made his way to the couch before slumping heavily into the cushions. He saw Garnett snicker out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't bite. He stared at the screen in front of them.
"What's on?" Mike asked.
"Some old war movie," Garnett replied with a shrug. "Didn't much matter what it was when I picked," she continued. Mike nodded. He knew that feeling. There just needed to be something there in the background. His mind was still swarming with thoughts and feelings and emotions so strong he was tempted to just jump overboard. "Rough night?"
Her voice caught him a little off guard and he looked over at her with a tight smile on his face. Rough night was an understatement. The ghosts of his family were haunting him full force tonight. He nodded slowly, his eyes slipping closed before he turned his head back to face the television. He opened his eyes and watched the screen mindlessly. They were silent for a long time, and it was comfortable and calming. Mike had no idea how much time had passed, or even when the movie had ended, as his mind was still consumed with his thoughts. Although he was still trapped with the ghosts it didn't seem as intense with Garnett in the room with him. He jumped a little when she spoke.
"Some nights, I can still smell them in the room," Garnett said quietly. Mike thought about her statement. He slowly turned his head, glancing at her. She was still sitting with her legs propped up, her hands wrung tightly together in her lap, her chin against her chest, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
"Some nights I can hear my boy say my name," Mike whispered. Those were the hard nights. When he was walking the p-ways of the ship, up on the deck for fresh air, laying in the dark trying to fall asleep, and he'd hear Lucas call out for him. Garnett slowly lifted her chin and turned her neck, so her face was towards him. "A sad lot we are," Mike mumbled before he even knew what he was saying. Garnett nodded slowly.
"I always expected I'd die first…of the three of us? I just thought I'd be the one to go…I never once thought Bill would…or Lilly…" her voice was drifting as she spoke. Her eyes glazed and locked in a faraway memory. Mike knew the look well. He'd seen it on more than one crewman on the ship in the last eight months. "Now they're both gone…and here I am…shattered."
"That's a good word for it," Mike said then huffed a small laugh. "Shattered, with rough jagged edges."
"That cut every time you move…breathe…think."
"Leaving holes so big they consume the light and leave you in the darkness," Mike continued. He looked over at her. She was looking at him smiling. He saw the pain in the features of her face, positive that it was mirrored back to her on his own features. She looked helpless, lost, afraid. She looked lonely. Mike felt all the same things. The tears fell from her eyes, and she took a shuddering breath. Without thinking he reached out an arm and invited her closer. Without hesitation she scooted into his side, burying her face against his chest. He wrapped the arm around her cradling her small frame into his larger one, protecting her.
He felt her shiver and shudder as her tears came out. He couldn't hold his back anymore as he let them fall, his breathing becoming slightly ragged. They held each other as they let the pain out. Mike had no idea how long they had been like that, but Garnett had settled. Her breathing was even, and her ear was tucked just over his heart. He looked down and chuckled lightly.
She had fallen asleep. He wasn't sure what he should do. She needed sleep…badly, but was this really the best position and space to do that? He felt fatigue gripping him as well and decided a little shut eye wouldn't be too bad. Hopefully no one barged in. He brought his other hand around and set an alarm on his watch for an hour and a half then shifted his body slightly into a more comfortable position, tucked his head against the back edge of the couch, and let his eyes drift closed.
Mike's eyes sprang open as the alarm sounded on his watch. He reached over and turned it off and looked around, trying to remember why he was in the officer's lounge sleeping. There was a heavy warmness on his chest and in his side and he looked down to see Garnett still sleeping on him. His brain caught up and he sighed. He looked at her and had an urge to run his hand through her hair, relishing in the softness of the strands against his skin. He debated what to do. It was getting to a time when someone may walk in. He didn't want any rumors to run like wildfire through the ship. He decided he needed to wake her up, as much as he realized…he didn't want to. He wanted to submerge himself in this moment. But duty and the fear of someone catching them made him act. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm gently.
"Andrea, you need to wake up," he whispered softly against her head. He felt her stir slightly before snuggling deeper into him, inhaling a deep breath against his neck. As her she released that breath against his skin Mike was surprised by the feelings that rocketed through him. He closed his eyes. "Hey, Garnett," he said a little more loudly.
She stirred again, rubbing against him, and burrowing her face into his side. He groaned a little then steeled himself. Get ahold of yourself Michael, he told himself. He shifted his body and lightly pulled her back from his side. Her eyes sprang open, and he saw the mortification pass over her briefly before she looked around, confused.
"What?" she asked as she pushed away from him. She sunk back against the other side of the couch and looked at him with a strange look. Mike remained calm and stoic, not sure how to respond. "Sorry," she breathed out.
"It's okay. We both fell asleep," Mike said to help soothe the situation. Maybe that would make her feel better, to know that he had fallen asleep too. "You, okay?"
"Yeah," she snapped quickly, running a hand over her hair. "Good, super."
Mike cocked his head to the side and smiled. He was intrigued by her response. He was intrigued by what he had felt when she was forcibly cuddling with him. He liked it. But he wasn't about to say anything now. He looked at the clock.
"We should go get some proper sleep," Mike sound breaking the strangely comfortable silence between them. Garnett nodded slowly.
"Yeah, that's a good idea," she said quickly, then got up and left without another word. Mike smiled to himself then got up and retreated to his own stateroom.
A few days later Tom asked Mike if he wanted to have dinner with him in the wardroom. They had just handed the watch off to Commander Garnett. Mike and Tom hadn't talked in a week, and he was still intrigued about seeing Dr. Scott leaving Tom's stateroom. They went to the wardroom, and it was only the two of them there. They got their food. Tom had been quiet as they ate. In fact, Tom had been quiet for a week. Mike had noticed but hadn't brought it up yet.
He had to admit it was a nice change from the dark mood Tom had been brewing a week ago, and Mike knew something had happened to help him get back from it, but he didn't know what. But the quietness from Chandler was a bit unsettling as well. He looked over at his friend and noticed Chandler was deep inside his own head.
"Something on your mind, Captain?" Mike asked. He watched as his words sliced into Tom's reverie, and the other man looked up at him. He watched Tom take a deep breath and think about what to say.
"Just thinking," Tom replied, his answer a little cryptic. Mike smiled at him and shook his head.
"Well that much was evident," Mike remarked. "Want to talk about it? Something with the crew?" Mike knew that wasn't it. But he didn't want to hint that he suspected something else. They kept a pretty good finger on the pulse of the crew and often time Mike knew before Tom when things were brewing.
"No, it's not the crew," Tom replied rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. There was a pause and Mike was ready to let it drop. Then Tom spoke again. "How did you work through your grief for Lucas?"
Mike was a little shocked at the question. He wasn't expecting this to be about grief, or his own for that matter. He pondered the question though and thought about his two encounters with Garnett this past week. He thought about the times he cried in the dark in his cabin. He thought about the times he packed it into a box and stuck in the back corner of his mind.
"Um, I guess I just kind of cried for him and threw myself into the mission. It was harder when we came back aboard, and I hadn't found Christine or the girls."
"What helped?"
"This about Darien?" Mike asked softly. He watched Tom think about his question.
"Yes. Do you have a lot of guilt?" Tom asked quietly. That threw Mike for a second. But when he really got down and thought about it…yes, he did. He felt guilty for not being there. He felt guilty for not pushing to look for them sooner. He felt guilty for not being able to find the girls.
"Some yes. I wasn't there to help, but then I think…if I was there maybe I'd be dead too. And then I wouldn't be here saving the world."
"That's one way to look at it."
"Have you let yourself grieve for Darien?" Mike asked with his head cocked to the side. Mike watched something flash through Tom eyes.
"I have. About a week ago," Tom replied. Mike flashed a small smile. The night he sent Tom to his stateroom. The night he saw Rachel leaving so late at night.
"Did it help?"
"Yes, for the pain and sorrow. But the guilt," Tom said, his shoulders shrugging slightly.
"That can eat you up," Mike replied. "Need to find a way to let go of that, Captain."
"I know," Tom replied. Mike watched as more thoughts filtered across Tom's eyes. He couldn't tell what Tom was thinking, or even what he was feeling, but Mike could tell his wheels were spinning on turbo. The meal was finished in silence as Mike was sucked into his own head, thinking about his grief processing with Garnett. When they were done eating, they went their separate ways.
Two nights later Mike was on overnight watch. He was sitting in his XO chair, the bridge glowing red as they had darkened it for the night, thinking about his life. He decided he needed some fresh air, but the bridge wing seemed to claustrophobic at the moment. He made sure he had the portable on him and let the OOD know he was stepping off the bridge for some air on the deck.
He walked to the railing at the back of the ship and leaned against it, breathing in the moist sea air. He watched the wake of the ship, the vast expanse of stars above. He sighed as he felt the pang of grief tug at his heart. He had always missed his kids when deployed but this time it was different. They wouldn't be waiting for him at the dock whenever this crazy assed mission ended. They wouldn't be waiting for him at home either. No, they'd never be waiting for him again. He felt the first tear fall and gritted his teeth.
He nearly jumped from his own skin when someone stepped up beside him, their fingers grazing his elbow ever so gently. He gasped and then grumbled as he worked to catch his breath. He heard a soft feminine chuckle from next to him and he looked down to see Garnett leaning against the top railing, smiling at him.
"Sorry, XO," she quipped quietly, the grin making her sharp features stand out. Mike was lost of a moment as he just stared down at her blue eyes, the strawberry blonde hair pulled back. Her face shifted a little, maybe getting self-conscious as how he was looking at her. It broke his spell.
"Forget about it," Mike mumbled. And he really hoped she did. He was a bit embarrassed to have been startled so badly.
"Guessing you didn't hear my approach," she sniggered, and Mike looked back at her giving her a pointed look. She held up her hands. "Point taken, Sir."
It was Mike's turn to snicker. He looked back out over the wake and smiled. They settled next to each other in the quiet night air, neither one speaking, neither one needing to. Time passed and Mike felt her stand a little closer, a whisper of their bodies touching, but not full-on contact.
"You ever think it'll get easier, Sir?" Garnett asked. Mike feeling a pang of sadness that she was being so formal with him. He wanted to hear her call him by his first name, but he knew that wasn't going to happen unless he was bold enough to tell her to. And right now, he wasn't that bold.
"I hope so," Mike replied quietly. "Because if not? I don't know how long I'll make it."
The fact that he had voiced that part out loud caught Mike a bit off guard. He hadn't meant to say it. Didn't want anyone to know where his thoughts went in the darkness. He was afraid if anyone knew, he'd be relieved of his duties and sent to a mental institution. Instead, he felt her hand on his forearm. Her small fingers gripping ever so lightly. The pressure so light, it was like a feather. He felt heat run through him. He ducked his head and closed his eyes, clearing his throat. Her hand retreated and Mike felt a coldness wash through him.
"I've had those same thoughts, Commander. You're not alone," Garnett whispered leaning her whole body into his. He made a snap decision and lifted his arm up, welcoming her into his side. Much to his delight she accepted his invitation. He brought his arm back down and found he had to stoop slightly so her head wasn't stuck in his arm pit. He chuckled. She shifted slightly.
"What?"
"You're short," he quipped. Her hand came up and punched him lightly in the stomach. His muscles flinched in reaction, and he doubled over a little more.
"There now you're not so tall," she whispered in his ear, and he felt his insides flare. He paused in that position and soaking up the feel of her, locking it away in his memory banks for future use. Slowly he straightened and shifted slightly. Garnett's hand was still lingering on his abdomen, and he was having trouble ignoring the sensations it was creating. He cleared his throat again. The moment was shattered when the portable squawked to life on his shoulder. Garnett pulled away, putting a respectable distance between them and Mike missed her body heat and the feel of her immediately. He mentally slapped himself, then answered the call from his radio.
To Be Continued…
