Author's Note: Holy rusted sheet metal, Batman! This is a longer chapter! I hope you enjoy this one. Tom has some chats with a couple people . As always, happy reading and leave a review on the way out! Dark rolling sea.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Three days had passed since Rachel had woken up in the infirmary. Each day she got a little stronger. Tom had gone to see her every day after he came off watch. He knew she was going stir crazy being confined to her bed, cooped up. They had settled into a comfortable routine each day, him sitting in the chair, talking. Each night he had stayed way longer than he should have, his sleep starting to suffer. Tom had opened up to Rachel, telling her about his past, his life before the plague. She had opened up some to him, but he noticed she had a tendency to hold back on her personal life.
Tom had let it go. Any information was good in his opinion and maybe someday she would be comfortable enough with him to share more of herself. For now, he was enjoying their soft quiet conversations that lasted well into the night hours. He had been pleasantly surprised the other day when they had had a deep philosophical conversation. He was beginning to look forward to his time with her, craving that attention. So far, he had been able to keep his inner demons quiet, squelching the guilt. Maybe it was the safety of the fact nothing physical could happen right now because of her condition. His brain saw it merely as a deep friendship, instead of what it really was. And he had to admit to himself they were well past friendship at this point, at least, he was. Just seeing her sent butterflies in his stomach. He thought about the coming days ahead and the fact that very soon, Rios would tell her she could leave to confinement of the infirmary and rejoin the ship. He thought about what he wanted. He knew one thing for certain, he wanted to continue having these late-night talks with her. His heart was full.
His mind was wandering again as he sat on the bridge. His distractions while on duty were growing more noticeable to those around him. He was trying desperately to keep them to a minimal but sometimes his brain simply wondered to her. It happened more often at the end of his watch when his body was anticipating seeing her again. Mike had given him shit about it more than once. He was staring off into the sea when he felt something thump his shoulder.
"Earth to, Captain Chandler," Mike whispered into his ear. Tom grinned and looked over at his XO standing next to him. Mike grinned and shrugged. "Looked a bit lost there, Cap."
"Sorry," Tom breathed out. He glanced at his watch on his wrist and sighed. "Guess you're here to take over."
"That generally happens at the change of the watch," Mike chided softly. Tom smiled. "Things are getting better?"
"Yes. Yes, I think so," he said.
"That's good. She making a good recovery?"
"Yes. Rios says she'll be fine once the bullet track heals. Just soreness and stiffness until then. No side effects from the blood loss or being unconscious for so long."
"That's good. I heard you've been spending a good chunk of your down time with her."
"Got a spy in the infirmary?" Tom asked with a chuckle. "Yeah. We've been…talking."
"Talking is good," Mike rumbled. Tom looked at him and Mike smiled. "So, what's the problem?"
"Problem?" Tom asked looking around, seeing who was paying attention to their conversation. Mike looked down and sighed.
"Tom," he said in a fatherly voice and Tom glared at him. "Stop hiding." Tom stood from his chair and motioned Mike to follow him to his at sea cabin where they could talk more privately. Mike nodded and followed him. Once inside and the door closed Tom turned back around to face his friend.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Tom asked with his eyebrows creased.
"You're hiding. From your feelings for her. Jesus, man, you're in love with this woman."
"It's a little more complicated, Mike," Tom breathed out feeling the strain of everything.
"So, what's the issue?"
"I still love my wife. When I think of Rachel, Darien intrudes, and I feel guilty."
"I told you, Brother, you need to grieve for Darien for real. But you don't really have any reason to feel guilty."
"I fell in love with another woman before Darien was dead, Mike. I feel like I cheated on her. I feel like I'm still cheating on her."
"She's gone, Tom. Unfortunately. I know for a fact that if Darien was still alive you would never pursue your feelings for Rachel. But she is gone, Tom, and you can."
"My brain says I can't. I'm so broken and I don't know how to fix it," Tom muttered. Mike placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Time will heal it. But you need to tell Rachel all this. You need to get your head on straight."
"How? I can't. I just…besides. I'm the captain of this ship. How is the crew going to react to me breaking the fraternization rule under everyone's noses?"
"Really? That's what you're going to stand behind? That's where you're going to hide?" Mike said with a chuckle.
"What?"
"Tom, stop hiding behind the fraternization rules. I think all that went out when eighty percent on of the global population died. I mean I can see it's already a distraction for you, hell half the crew knows something has you distracted, and probably half of those have already guessed who that is."
"Mike," Tom said in a warning tone.
"Listen. I hate seeing you like this. We've been through a lot together and I see you as my brother. So, I'm going to tell you right now. Stop hiding. Start processing. Deal with this shit, go after her. She loves you just as much as you love her."
Tom stood staring at his friend for a long moment, processing what he had just told him. He could see the fatigue and stress etched in the other man's face, and it struck Tom that he hadn't asked him how he was doing for a while.
"How are you holding up?" Tom asked and Mike blinked back his surprise.
"I'm fine. Why?"
"Did you ever hear from Christine or the girls?"
"No. I haven't been able to locate them. I have a sinking feeling that they are no longer with us though."
"Mike," Tom said softly as his head tilted to the side. "I'm sorry. If you need time…"
"Nope. Work is how I process. I'll be fine. You need to figure out what you're going to do."
"Yeah, I know," Tom whispered and nodded. And Mike was right. He was hiding. But he also knew he needed to deal with the turmoil in his brain and come to terms with the fact that Darien was indeed dead, and that Rachel was very much alive. They left the at sea cabin and walked back to the bridge.
Tom then turned to Mike. "XO, you have the watch."
"Ay, ay, Captain," Mike said. Tom went to walk away. "Tom?" He turned back to look at Slattery.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. Just let things go at their own pace," Mike said quietly. He then clapped Tom on the shoulder and walked to his chair, taking a seat. Tom stared at the sea for a little longer before he left the bridge. He was exhausted, the lack of sleep the last four days was catching up to him, but he knew he wasn't going to his stateroom. No. He wanted to see her. He wanted to talk to her. It was almost like an addiction. So, he walked to the infirmary.
When he got there, he was assaulted by a slew of emotion. Tex Nolan was sitting next to her bed, and they were locked into an easy conversation. She was laughing at something he said, and he could see the wince of pain it had caused. Pain, anger, guilt, resentment, sadness, and jealousy all flooded his system and short circuited his brain. He was sure his face was a beacon for what he was feeling, and he was ninety percent sure she had glanced up and seen him, but he didn't care. Right now, all that mattered, was escaping.
He moved quickly down the p-way to his stateroom and shut the door behind him. His heart was squeezing, his breathing was rough. He hadn't expected the pain coursing through him, or the sadness, or the hot burning jealousy. A voice inside tried to tell him he had no right to feel any of those things, because she wasn't his exclusively. He had never made that move yet. Because he wasn't ready. He was still dealing with the fallout of losing his wife…and subsequently falling for another woman.
But it didn't matter that he didn't have the right to feel how he did right now, because there was no stopping it. There was no pushing these feelings aside and turning a blind eye. No, he was consumed and then the anger started. Had he lost her? Had Tex wooed her away from him because he wasn't able to make a commitment? Every time he tried to make a move forward his broken heart, and broken mind, worked together in tandem to knock him down a peg. But maybe she wasn't interested in waiting him out, or in enduring all the mixed-up signals he was sending to her.
Although he thought they had made major progress while she was in the infirmary. The gunshot had scared the living daylights out of him. It could have very easily been much worse than it had been. She could have died that day. And that thought plagued him at night when he should be sleeping. But he had never shared that with her, he didn't know how. And now, she was laughing and carrying on with Tex Nolan, who Tom knew was trying to win the doctor over.
Tom couldn't compete with Tex right now, not with his smoothness and ease of heart while around her. Tom was too uptight, to wrapped up in his own grief and guilt. And maybe it was too late. She was so comfortable around Tex, so engrossed with him. Jealousy sparked again and Tom felt like punching something. He clenched his hand into a fist and really thought about punching the wall. Blind rage, pure jealousy. He needed to calm down, to find a way to release the anger and pain. But damn it. He really thought they had made progress. He had been so open and easy with her since her wound, but now. Now, maybe it was all too late. Why didn't she say something to him? She had to know how he felt about her. So why wouldn't she say something?
His mind was festering in the darkness of his feelings when he heard a knock at his door. He checked the wall clock and frowned. Who needed him at this late hour? If it had been an emergency on the bridge, they would have just called down. Maybe it was Mike coming down to talk, but Mike was on watch tonight. He stood rooted to the ground where he stood. He really didn't want any company tonight and was not in a sound state of mind to do official duty. But he was the captain of this vessel and he needed to get his shit together. A second knock happened and then he heard her voice.
"Captain, it's Dr. Scott. Can I speak with you, please?" What the hell was she doing here? She should be in the infirmary not walking around the ship. He highly doubted Rios had released her this late at night, but maybe the other man had. He figured Rios would give him a call though. He walked slowly to the door, opened it, then turned and walked away. He found he was unable to look at her. He heard her enter and shut the door behind herself.
Tom walked to his desk and leaned down, gripping the edge tightly with both hands. His gaze was cast down to the surface, scanning over the charts and papers scattered about. Without looking at her he spoke in an accusatory voice. "I didn't know Rios released you."
"He didn't," she replied softly. This made him look up at her and he couldn't stop the disapproving look that crossed his face. She should not have left the infirmary without being cleared first. He saw the sadness flash through her eyes. "We need to talk about this."
"About what?" he asked in a steady voice devoid of the raging emotions flowing through him at the moment. His grip on the desk increased, his knuckles turning white.
She walked over to his couch with a sigh and sunk heavily down. He saw her wince in pain before shifting her weight into a different position. She sat there staring at him waiting. His head was a jumble of so many emotions, but pain and sadness and jealousy were the three front runners. He remained ramrod stiff staring at his desk, hands gripping tightly. He was desperately trying to tamp down everything and focus on the anger.
"Are you mad at me?" she asked quietly.
Tom couldn't respond to that. As much as he wanted that to be the reason for his mood…it was not anger that he was feeling. Pain. Fear. Jealousy. Sadness. He couldn't find his voice. He didn't know what to tell her. He heard her sigh loudly as if trying to garner his attention.
"Captain," she said softly, trying to draw him out. He still couldn't respond, and he felt the hot burning sting of tears building. He swallowed the lump and blinked back the tears. He heard her get up from the couch, but he kept his attention down. He figured if he looked at her, he would break. He flinched when her hand settled into the crook of his elbow. Then the skin was burning with the warmth of her touch. He wanted to feel more of that, but he was rooted in place. He was conflicted and broken. He could feel her studying him and he closed his eyes and dipped his chin to his chest. He willed himself to keep it together, not completely break down in front of her, again. Not this time, not because of her. It was different when it was because of Darien. This time it would be because of her, and he did not want that.
He was startled when her other hand gently cupped his jaw line. She applied gentle pressure and turned his head to look at her. He let her. He knew there was no hiding the river and torment flowing through his eyes, but he looked right into her golden-brown ones anyway. Her hand on his jaw slipped around to the back of his neck and a million butterflies hatched from cocoons in his stomach. What was she doing? She pulled gently bringing his head down towards her as she pushed up to meet him. Their lips touch and he felt her pause. She was waiting for him. She wanted him to initiate more or pull away.
Tom was frozen. The feel of her lips against his was exquisite and sending so many signals through his mixed-up brain. The thoughts of sadness and jealousy and pain were bashed aside. Love, affection, endearment, and heat replaced them. So much heat was building in his stomach, along his arms and legs. There was electricity sparking in his brain. He had no idea how long they had stood simply touching, but all the sudden his brain and heart wanted more. The grief, the guilt, the pain, all disappeared for that moment and Tom started to move against her. He wanted to savor the moment, so he moved in a slow steady burn as he simply explored her lips and mouth. Tongues slowly touched and danced, and teeth raked against lips. He brought his right hand up and draped it over her shoulder, the touch igniting a fire inside that pushed him to explore more. His left hand found its way to the side of her face, the skin so smooth under the roughness of his own skin. Her hand remained strong at the back of his neck, while her other hand curled into a fist against his chest. His body was afire with passion.
He pulled back slightly and dropped his forehead against hers, guilt stepped back in, and he was forced to take a step back. How could he feel so passionate about her when he still loved Darien? How could he compete with Tex when he was so confused, conflicted, and broken? Why on earth would she want to waste time on him when he wasn't ready to give her that full time. She was standing there watching him as he processed all his feelings and turmoils. She reached out and touched his arm, but the sensation was too much for him, so he turned, pulling away from her. He needed space. His mind was a storm of emotion and that kiss had drained him even further. Oh, how he had enjoyed that kiss. But he shouldn't have his brain interjected. And he felt humiliated that he couldn't process what he really wanted.
His breathing was ragged as he was having issues pulling in air and breathing out in any sort of rhythm. He stopped a few steps away from her, and she seemed content to stand where she was. He didn't understand how he could feel so much love for her but also resent himself for feeling that much love for her. The tears finally grew too much, and he felt them spill down his face. Anger flared again, but this time at himself. He had never in his entire life, experienced anything like this. He had always been able to process his feelings and sort things out. He was the strong one. The rock. The beacon in the storm. But right now, the light was out, and he was lost.
"Tom," she whispered and the pain in her voice was palpable. He had caused that. More tears slid down his face. "I'm sorry."
The words cut through him like a knife. Why in the world would she feel the need to apologize to him. He felt himself stiffen and his head tipped to the side. He still couldn't face her, not now. Not after…why was he so screwed up. The room was quiet for a few moments before Tom found the courage to turn and face her. He didn't bother to wipe away the tears. Once he was facing her, he found his voice.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for," he breathed out, his voice breaking. He watched as she closed the gap between them quickly. He made no move to stop her, no motion to tell her to stay away. Her hand sprang to his jaw, her thumb rubbing at the tear streak. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I'm the one that…I'm the one, not you."
And he meant it. He should be groveling at her feet. Begging for her forgiveness for the torment he must be putting her through. After that kiss they just shared he knew now that she was just as deeply in love with him as he was with her. The only problem was that she was clear of anything else, and he was burdened with feelings he just couldn't seem to shake.
Her hand moved from his jaw to the back of his neck again. She tugged him down as she slowly rose up to meet him. He knew she was going to kiss him again and panic surged through him. They needed to talk about things. He needed to process everything. He resisted against her hand, and she got the message. Her face froze a mere inch from his. Desire and want surged through his insides but he pushed it down. He could read the question on her face.
"You're right. We need to talk," he huffed out, his breathing ragged. He watched as fear flashed through her eyes and pain exploded in his heart. Oh, how he did not want to hurt this woman anymore. He broke eye contact and glanced around his room, before slumping down onto his couch. Rachel paused, uncertain on what to do next, before settling onto the couch at the other end. She tucked a leg under her and faced him. He stretched out his legs and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. He couldn't look at her, so he stared at his feet.
He didn't know what to say or how to say it. He was frozen in a panic. Tom knew he needed to express what he was feeling to her, explain why he was sending so many mixed signals and why his mood would swing on a dime so often. She would understand he told himself. The silence was stretching but he still couldn't seem to formulate the words he needed to say.
"I thought you wanted to talk," Rachel said, breaking the silence. "That generally involves words." Tom finally looked up at her and he couldn't stop the smirk that crossed his lips at her smart-ass remark. But then his gaze settled on his feet again and he still didn't have the words. He heard Rachel sigh. He felt her hand land on his knee and the warmth it brought seemed to bring strength to him. "I can't read minds, Tom."
"I know," he finally said. "I talked to Mike." He didn't know why he admitted that, but it felt like the right thing to say. At least he had said something.
"I figured as much," Rachel replied, and Tom couldn't help his eyebrow raising up. "He said something that only makes sense if he knows something."
"Mike thinks I need to get my head on straight," he said absently.
"What do you think?" Rachel asked softly. He looked at her and shook his head sightly.
"I don't know, and that's part of the problem. He told me I'm hiding behind the fraternization rules."
"Are you?"
"Maybe," Tom said, sighing heavily. "I think about us all the time."
"Us?" Rachel asked. He could tell by her tone she was a little stunned by the admission. Tom leaned his head back on the top of the couch. He saw Rachel rest an elbow there and put her chin in her palm. Affection coursed through him.
"Us," Tom breathed out. "And I do, I really do, think about it, to the point of distraction." Enough, he thought, that at least half his crew had noticed.
"I think about us too," Rachel admitted, and Tom closed his eyes as his mind was bombarded with fresh emotions.
"I think about us and then I start to feel guilty. I think about you, and I start to miss my wife. It's a really weird limbo and I don't know how to break it."
"Then maybe it's not time," Rachel replied. Tom picked his head up and looked at her. He hadn't thought about that. Maybe they did just need more time, but the other half of him that was in love didn't want to waste more time. He had an urge to touch her and snaked his arm along the back of the couch, fingering her hair. Rachel sat still and let him explore. He wanted more. But then the guilt set in. Her and Tex in the infirmary flashed in his mind and before he knew it, he was speaking again.
"Maybe," he mumbled. "But then I see you with him and it hurts." From the look in her eyes, she knew just who he was talking about.
"Tex and I are just friends," she whispered and squeezed the hand on his knee. "I know he likes me, but there really isn't anything there for me other than I enjoy his friendship."
"I know, I think," Tom mumbled, feeling the confusion of it all. "He had told me how he feels about you. He even told me once he was making his move because I hadn't." Tom smiled as Rachel's face expressed the shock she was feeling.
"When was that?"
"Before the Vyerni," tom replied, his lips curling into a small smile as the memory of their first kiss assaulted his senses. That was when things had shifted for him.
"So why are you jealous?" she asked. He had stopped fingering her hair, his hand settling on the back of the couch. Her question smacked across him, and he thought about it for a moment. He looked at his feet as he formulated his reply. He thought maybe it wasn't so much the chance that Tex would steal her away, although if he was honest that thought was down there somewhere. It was more the ease of their relationship. The simplistic nature they shared. The way the other man could make Rachel smile.
"The ease of which he can interact. The way he makes you smile and laugh," Tom finally settled on.
"You make me smile," she replied and to prove the point she gave him a full-blown smile. He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, then left his hand to linger against her skin. "You can always talk to me, Tom, about anything."
"I still love my wife," he said softly. As if raising his voice would shatter this illusion and he would be left alone in the darkness. "I know she's gone. I've been trying to work through the guilt and the sorrow."
"Guilt?" Rachel asked, shifting her weight on the couch, bringing her closer to him.
"If I could have just got us to Baltimore a little bit sooner," he mumbled with a shrug. Rachel leaned in closer to him, picking her hand up from his knee and placing it over his heart in the center of his chest. Fire ignited inside him.
"Tom," she said softly.
"I know, but I can't help but feel guilty. I know we couldn't have really done anything differently than we did. There wasn't anything that could have changed the timeline enough, but I feel like I let down my kids. I feel guilty I wasn't there to keep them safe. I feel guilty I had to leave my kids with my dad and take off again. Ashley and Sam deserve more. I feel guilty I've already fallen in love again," he said.
The last sentence simply falling out of his mouth as he looked at her. It had slightly surprised him that he had admitted that. He brought his hand up from his side and covered the one against his chest. His other hand traced small patterns on her shoulder. He could see the surprise on her face as she licked her lips and tilted her head to the side. He smiled.
"I've rendered you speechless," he rumbled in a low husky tone. She leaned in then and laid her head against his chest and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to him. He encircled her small frame in his arms bringing his chin down gently to the top of her head. He held her there for a long time as he felt the world stop. His mind was absolutely clear right now and he was able to keep the bad emotions buried.
He was suddenly very tired and shifted so his legs were on the couch, and they were laying down. Rachel shifted with him. He knew then that this was what he wanted. He wanted this woman, and he was going to do his best to fix his head and make things right.
"This is what I want, but sometimes intrusive thoughts creep in. I'm trying really hard to overcome them, but sometimes I get defeated."
"This is what I want too, Tom."
He smiled as he felt her burrow deeper into him. He felt himself relaxing as the heat from her body soaked through him. He knew tomorrow his brain would be screaming at him with all the pain and guilt, but tonight, right now, all was right in the world, and Rachel Scott was his.
To Be Continued…
