Chapter 17

Tamara felt guilty. She felt like she wasn't supposed to be watching, wasn't even supposed to be in Eli's room. It was bad enough that Eli was a witness. It was like she was violating their space and spying on something sacred only Rush and Chloe shared, but she told herself that she was observing for the purposes of monitoring Rush's health. She wanted to make sure nothing happened, that was all. Professional concern for her patient. Purely clinical.

Yeah, right.

She watched them on the kino feed as they held each other, barely moving, occasionally pulling apart to say something or just brush some hair away. Part of her resented Eli for muting the audio, while the rest of her was proud of his respect for their privacy. Chloe was essentially keeping Rush on his feet, weak as he was, supporting them both with a rigid grip on his I.V. pole. It seemed like hours passed that way. Chloe cried the whole time.

When Rush's energy finally seemed to dissipate, Chloe carefully helped him settle back onto the bed. She stretched out his feet and curled up in the chair beside him, rubbing his shoulder and neck. On the kino, Tamara watched her stare at him for several minutes before bringing her radio to her mouth.

"You can come back now."

She sniffed and cleared her throat. "I'll be right there," she answered. She patted Eli's shoulder, eliciting no reaction at all, and left his room for the infirmary. Watching Chloe leave with tears in her eyes physically hurt. Chloe seemed reluctant to go, holding on to his hand for as far as they could stretch, and hardly turning away even as she walked out of the room. The bulkhead closed, and Tamara looked at Rush, who was staring at the wall again.

"Rush..."

He closed his eyes. Shut her out. "No more talking."

Fair enough. She dropped into the bedside chair and shut off the iPod, feeling spent, watching him slip gradually into sleep, monitoring each move and each sound he made. He seemed okay at the moment - he wasn't restless and his breathing was steady - but the longer she stared at him, the more she became aware of a dark dread mounting in her soul. There in the silence, her heart was speaking to her. Every beat heralded the truth she was trying to ignore. She pressed a palm to her chest, feeling the pulse beneath. Soon, it seemed to say, soon-soon…soon-soon...

They were one day closer.

She pulled her stethoscope out of her bag and put the ends into her ears, holding the diaphragm against Rush's chest, gently so not to wake him, listening. All she could hear was an ordinary drumming and the sound of blood going in and out. His heart wasn't saying it. Maybe it didn't know.

Of course he knows. Probably better than she. Watching him sleep, examining his pale face, the dark circles under his tired eyes, she found within her grief a meager comfort that his suffering was almost over. She reached out and smoothed back his hair.

Soon-soon…soon-soon...soon-soon...

"How soon?" she whispered.

"T.J.?" She jumped. Chloe was at the door, back in her casual clothes, her hair flat, her eyes red. She hadn't even heard the bulkhead open. Maybe she was losing her mind.

"Oh, hey, Chloe," she said, pulling the stethoscope out of her ears. "Need something?"

Chloe's eyes flitted to Rush. "No, I'm fine. Is he okay?"

"He's okay." She put her stethoscope away. "Sleeping. He's probably exhausted."

Chloe nodded. "Yeah. I was actually hoping to talk to him."

Tamara scrunched her face. "Sorry, hon. Later. I'd really rather he slept now."

"No, yeah, that's fine. Um…do you mind if I hang out for a little while?"

Tamara shrugged. "Sure."

Chloe came fully into the room and grabbed a spare chair which she placed by Rush's head. She looked absorbed, frowning slightly as she watched him sleep. Every now and then she'd sniff and wipe her eyes.

"Hey," said Tamara gently. "You okay?"

Chloe nodded. She was lying.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Chloe shook her head. "No. Thanks, but I can't go into all that right now. I just want to be here."

She nodded. "Okay."

A long time passed. Tamara kept her eyes on Chloe as much as on Rush. Eventually, Chloe asked gingerly, "How long does he have?"

Tamara shook her head. She hated that question. She hated the answer. "I don't know, Chloe. Ever since it started he's been on borrowed time."

Chloe sniffed and nodded. "I owe you an apology, T.J."

Tamara looked at her and frowned. "Why?"

Chloe was still looking at Rush. She bit her lip. "I don't want to tell you. But just know that I'm really sorry. Okay?"

She didn't like the sound of that at all. "What are you talking about? What did you do?"

Chloe shook her head. "No, it's nothing like that. It's not something I did, or didn't do. It's something…else." She grimaced. "Something…I feel."

Tamara thought she knew where this was going. "Involving Rush?" she guessed.

Chloe closed her eyes and nodded.

She didn't want to hear it any more than Chloe wanted to say it, so she just sighed, stung, and feeling selfish about it. "Okay."

"I'm sorry."

She swallowed. "It's…okay. It's okay. You can't help how you feel." Chloe did not look comforted. Tears flooded her eyes, and she lowered her face. "Hey," said Tamara, to change the subject, "you've had a long day too. Why don't you get some sleep?"

Chloe shook her head. "I'm okay."

"Really, Chloe, you look exhausted."

"I'm not leaving."

Maybe she felt it too. It made Tamara even more anxious. That eerie feeling had returned, sharper now. She hadn't slept in her own quarters in ages, and she knew she never would be able to now, not so far away. She was reluctant to move five feet from Rush at this point. It was an irrational fear, a gnawing feeling she couldn't get rid of. Superstition, perhaps. Afraid that if she left, he wouldn't be there when she came back.

"Okay," she managed. She forced a smile. "How about we both stay? We'll watch in shifts."

Chloe didn't look away from Rush. "I'll take the first one."

Tamara nodded, resigned. "Five hours?"

It was 2100. Chloe agreed.

"You'll wake me if anything happens?"

"Uh-huh."

Tamara got up and moved to a spare bed. She reclined, lowering the back and fluffing the pillow, but found she couldn't sleep. Even knowing Chloe was right there brought her no comfort. She could only lie there and fret, scared that when she woke up he'd be gone.

Halfway through the interval, she heard Chloe whisper, "I forgot to tell you something." She frowned. Was he awake? She sat up and looked over, but Rush was still out. Chloe was on the edge of the seat next to him, hands folded between her knees, staring at his face. "Actually, that's not true. I don't know why I didn't tell you. I should have. I wanted to. But I guess maybe I thought you already knew, or something. But I thought about it afterward and I decided I should tell you anyway, even if you've already figured it out."

Tamara thought she should cover her ears. This was another personal moment. Let them have their privacy. She kept listening instead.

"But I don't want to tell you while you're asleep," Chloe went on. "That would kind of defeat the purpose of telling you at all. I wish you would wake up." She was quiet for several moments. The I.V. machine clicked, and Rush shifted but didn't wake. Chloe sighed. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

Tamara watched her lean over and kiss Rush on the forehead, and then there was nothing.

She hardly slept at all. When it was her turn to watch the patient she found that Chloe was just as restless. Eventually they both silently agreed that neither of them would be getting any sleep, and they sat together in solemn vigil. Rush didn't move once. Tamara kept checking all night long to make sure he was still breathing. She maintained a constant eye on the I.V. machine, practically daring it to do something, but it remained obediently quiet. When morning came again, Matt came by with an invitation to breakfast, which Chloe grudgingly accepted. Tamara had to refuse - she wasn't hungry, and leaving Rush now would just make her ill anyway.

Colonel Young came by not long after that, and Tamara met him in the doorway. His eyes were raw and he may have been drinking. It appeared no one was sleeping anymore. "Is he...still here?" he asked cautiously.

She nodded. "Yeah. Somehow he's hanging on. I can't explain it, Colonel. He should have been dead by now, but it's like he's waiting for something." It was true. She'd watched him very closely, and lately he had the look of someone in a constant state of anticipation. It was probably partly to blame for how tired he was all the time.

"Do you think there's any chance he's getting better?"

Oh, how she wished, and the hope in his voice hurt. "No," she said, and with a sigh. "Not after what happened yesterday. The anticoagulants are gone. It's not a matter of if, sir. It never has been. It's just a matter of when."

He nodded, unable to hide his disappointment. "Well," he said, "let's just hope whatever he's waiting for never comes so he can just…keep hanging on."

She nodded, but that was ridiculous. Maybe the colonel was a little superstitious too. He left, and she went back to Rush's side. Chloe came back to the infirmary and didn't leave again.

The day passed while Rush slept on. Tamara's relief that he was getting rest was being swiftly replaced by worry, and she watched him fervently until her eyes hurt. She couldn't find anything wrong, and there were no malfunctions in her instruments; by all appearances, he was simply sleeping. Late in the afternoon Chloe made her catch a few hours of rest before she made herself sick.

She woke suddenly, jarringly, to Chloe shouting, "Nick, stop!"

She was up instantly. Rush was on his feet, tearing at the tape on his hand, trying to dig the needle out. Chloe was on the other side of the bed, looking on in a panic.

"Chloe, what's happening?"

Chloe turned to her frantically. "I don't know! He's flipping out! He won't listen to me!"

Tamara went to Rush, who flinched away.

"Get back!"

"Rush, It's Tamara. What-"

Then she noticed the scalpel in his hand.

She froze. Where he'd gotten that, she didn't know. "Chloe," she said, keeping her eyes on her patient fumbling with the I.V., miserably thankful that his motor skills were degrading, "tell me what happened."

"I don't know," Chloe said. "He woke up looking for his pain medicine, and when I tried to give it to him he freaked."

Why did this keep happening? She regretted taking that nap. She slowly reached for her radio, not wanting to have to involve anyone else in this, but Rush was losing it, and now he had a weapon. "Varro, please come see me right away."

"On my way."

Rush was still struggling with the needle. Apparently it hadn't occurred to him to simply cut himself free. "Rush," she said gently. She braved a step forward, causing him to lurch back and almost lose his balance. The I.V. tube kept him from going too far, and he snarled at it. "Rush, you're okay. Do you know where you are?"

He snapped his eyes to her and stilled his hand, watching her warily.

"Nicholas, can you tell me where you are?" she tried again.

He squinted at her. "Who's Nicholas?"

Her every muscle went rigid. Chloe made a strangled sound somewhere behind her, and she blindly motioned to her to be calm. She looked directly into his deranged brown eyes and tried to make him see her. "Okay, Rush, please listen. You're okay. Look around you. Do you know where you are?"

He blinked at her, still leery like he expected her to jump him, and his eyes were quick as they darted around the room. His face eased a bit. "A…h-hospital?" he said.

She nodded. No. "Yes. The infirmary on Destiny. Can you please put that down?"

He looked at his hands, seeming to notice what was there for the first time. He didn't move when she took another step toward him, but whatever composure he'd found was lost again when Varro appeared. He tensed, and Tamara motioned for Varro to keep a distance.

"Hey," she said, trying to bring him back, "it's okay. You're okay. You're fine. Rush? Look at me. There you go. Okay. Now, put that down. Please."

He didn't. He stared at her. "Who's Nicholas?"

Come on! "Rush."

"Rush," he repeated, then looked startled, as if finally realizing that was him. The blade fell from his fingers and clattered against the ground. He grimaced and pressed both of his shaking hands against his head, slowly crumpling. Tamara hurried to his side, waving for Varro to help her, and they hoisted him up with minimal resistance and ferried him back to the bed. He was done in almost instantly, sliding back into unconsciousness within moments.

She stood by him, studying him, her hand clamped over her mouth. This was getting dicey. His attacks were becoming more frequent and more severe, and now he was posing an actual danger. She feared with an aching dread that she would be forced to use the sedative before she was ready.

She could remember what he had asked of her when she first told him how it would affect him. "Please don't use it unless you have to," he had said. "But if you have to, please use it."

Please don't make me…

"Did you find the painkillers?" she whispered to Chloe, not turning.

"Yeah," Chloe squeaked, stepping up beside her, crying now. "He's almost out."

Tamara closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I know."

Chloe gave out a quiet, weak sob, both hands wrapped around herself. "He doesn't know me. He looked right at me but he didn't recognize me. I told him who I am, and he just went crazy."

Tamara shook her head. "He knows. It's just something that happens, something in his brain goes a little haywire. It always passes."

"Why does it happen?" Chloe hiccuped. "What if it doesn't pass?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. There's not much I've been able to learn about this condition."

Chloe put a hand on his head. Tamara knew what she was thinking: his brilliant mind was wasting away, as his body was, and they couldn't stop it. He was losing everything that made him.

"Did you give him the pain medicine?"

Chloe shook his head. "He wouldn't let me."

They stood in silence, the words hanging in the air like a raincloud. Chloe finally sank down into the chair, taking Rush's hand in both of hers. Tamara's radio killed the quiet.

"T.J., this is Brody, come in."

She got her radio in hand with a sigh. "Yeah, Brody."

"I'm in the still. I've got that batch you were asking for."

Disinfectant. She'd forgotten she ever asked him for it. Rubbing her head, she said, "Okay. I'll be by a little later."

A pause followed. "I think it would be best if you got it now."

She frowned at her walkie-talkie. Now what? "I'm kind of in the middle of something." It wasn't totally true, but she hadn't rebounded yet.

"I really recommend it."

"I'll send Varro."

"No, it really should be you."

She wanted to throw the radio across the room. "Why?"

"Trust me."

Whatever that meant. She sighed and put a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "I'll be right back. Call me right away if he wakes up, okay?"

Chloe didn't look at her. "Okay."

She looked to Varro, who had hung back out of the way. "Mind staying here for a few minutes? Just in case."

"Of course not," he said quietly.

"Thanks. I'll be back soon."

She hurried out, wanting to be away as briefly as possible. In one of the corridors she met Colonel Young coming from the opposite direction.

"T.J.," he greeted her as they neared.

She nodded, making an effort to mask her turmoil, trying not to run on by. "Sir."

But he halted and squinted at her, perceptive as always. "What's wrong?"

She thought about brushing the question off, but sighed instead and stopped, leaning against the wall. "Rush had another incident."

He closed his eyes and pinched his nose. "How bad was it this time?"

She moved a stray strand of hair away from her face. "It's getting worse. He forgot his own name and managed to find a scalpel before I calmed him down." The colonel shot her a look of alarm, but she just shook her head. "Everyone's fine. Nobody got hurt. He's asleep now, but if this keeps happening…"

"He could cause some serious damage," Young said thoughtfully.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you call me?"

She bit her lips. Honestly, it hadn't been her first instinct, and the colonel hadn't done much to help up to now. He seemed to be avoiding the infirmary. Like a lot of people. "It was over so fast. I got Varro in there, but I was afraid that too many people at once would make him feel attacked."

He frowned a little, as if slighted that she had gone to Varro first. Then he sighed, perhaps deciding the fight wasn't worth it right now. "Well, at least no one was hurt."

"Yeah. He seemed more worried about getting himself away from the I.V."

"Maybe you should keep a two-man detail in there from now on."

She nodded. "That's a good idea. Chloe and Varro are there right now."

He sighed, then came to her and gathered her to him. She couldn't even cry anymore. She was bereft of tears, almost devoid of any feeling at all. She was tired. She just wanted this to be over.

No, she didn't, and she hated herself for thinking that way. She didn't want it to be over. She wanted it not to be happening. She wanted it all never to have happened. She wanted to go back in time. She wanted to save Rush. That was all.

"How close are we?" the colonel asked softly.

She wished people would stop asking her that. "I don't know. Not far. It could be any time."

He squeezed her. "Then I should let you get back to it."

She pulled away. "Yeah. I'm just on my way to the still and then I'll be heading back."

"Okay."

She walked away, feeling his eyes on her back until she turned the corner.

Upon reaching the still, she immediately discovered why Brody had called her. It was Eli. He was huddled up at a table, tilting sideways against the wall, face flushed, propped up on one elbow. Three bottles and a mug sat in front of him. She went to his side.

"Hey."

He turned his head. Bloodshot eyes blinked owlishly to her. "Oh. Hey, T.J."

She hesitated. He sounded froggy and slurred. Somehow she knew the bottles were empty. "Are you okay?"

"Sure."

No jokes. No sarcasm. No optimistic spin on his present condition. Just, "Sure". It was a stupid question anyway.

She sat opposite him. "What are you doing in here?"

He gave her a look - a look that asked if she was stupid, a look that would have offended her at any other time from anyone else. From Eli, it just broke her heart. "I'm scuba diving. What does it look like?"

She winced. "Sorry."

He softened, shaking his head and looking guilty. "No, I'm sorry. I'm…actually hiding."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hiding from who?"

"Colonel Young," he mumbled. "He won't leave me alone. He's on my case about everything now that Rush can't work anymore. I can't get a second of peace."

She tried to give him a reassuring smile. "So this is where you come to get peace?" she guessed.

He didn't answer, just dropping his eyes to stare deep into his mug.

"Eli, try to cut him a little slack, okay? He's having a hard time too."

Eli snorted.

'"You look like you're not doing very well either."

He made a tch sound. "Is anyone?"

Fair point. "No, not really," she said honestly. "And you're not the only one fixing to wake up with a hangover tomorrow." He ignored her. "But why do I get the feeling this is about more than Colonel Young?"

He grunted, saying, "I don't want to talk about it," and took a long swallow.

"Maybe you should have some water with that."

He pointed wordlessly at one of the bottles.

She'd never seen him like this. She wasn't sure how to take it. "Okay. But really, maybe you should just go to bed. It's not healthy to drink so much."

As if to deliberately annoy her, he topped off his mug. "Can't sleep; too much work to do." His voice was brittle, biting, and sounded very much like he was trying to channel Rush. "Colonel would have my hide."

She frowned, uneasy. "It's because he trusts you, Eli."

"Well, I wish he wouldn't!" he finally snapped. "I don't want to be the one everyone runs to when a light goes out or a door won't open or the ship is about to blow up. That's Rush's job."

She heard what he wasn't saying. He didn't want to take Rush's place. He didn't want Rush's place to have to be taken. She didn't know how to answer him, and she had to smother a sigh. Seriously, she was too tired for this. When did she become the ship therapist?

"I've been trying to come by all day but that stupid console is still broken and I can't figure out how to fix it," Eli went on. "I told Brody to do it but he doesn't have a clue, Chloe is no help at all, and Volker had less luck than me. I'm tempted to just leave it like that and let the new crew figure it out. Good luck to them. Plus I'm trying to solve a math problem the colonel gave me."

She smiled humorlessly. He truly did look hard at work. "Well, I don't think Rush will be much help, if that's what you're getting at."

He rolled his eyes. "No, of course not. I just want him to know I'm not trying to ignore him or anything."

"You don't need to explain yourself, Eli. It's okay."

He appeared only slightly relieved. "Is everything okay? I mean, I'm sure you'd tell us if something had happened, but…" He shrugged clumsily.

She nodded, choosing to keep to herself what had happened with Chloe. "I'll let you know. Right now he's just sleeping. Has been all day." He didn't really react, and Tamara felt an uninvited obligation to tell him the truth. With a sigh, she said, "Listen, Eli, I want you to be prepared. It's…going to be soon."

He stiffened, and she would never have noticed if she hadn't been watching for it, his jaw tightening, his shoulders rising almost imperceptibly. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. He seemed instantly more sober. "How soon?" he asked evenly.

She shook her head. "Very soon. That's all I know. Maybe…a day?"

He looked stricken. It was so easy to ignore if you didn't think about it. Don't consider the man fading away in the innards of the ship and he won't ever go. Ignore the problem and it won't be real. Faced now with reality, Eli looked ready to cry.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He cursed. "Have you ever noticed how people change?" he blurted. Maybe not sober after all. "It happens a lot. Nobody stays the same, ever. And that's supposed to be good, right? Like change is supposed to happen?"

She listened silently, unsure where he was going with this. He was giving her a questioning look, and she nodded. So much for not wanting to talk about it. "Yeah, that's what they say."

He scoffed. "Well, what do they know? Change sucks. I wish everything could stay the same all the time."

She was trying to follow. "If things don't change, they can't get better."

He slammed his mug onto the table, startling her. "No. When things change, they die."

"Eli…"

"It's not fair," Eli ranted. "After the rockslide, nobody cared that he was gone. No one mourned him, no one missed him. We were just excited to have tomatoes. Tomatoes. You know, like our lead scientist hadn't just died right after another crew member committed suicide. Because none of that matters, right? Seriously?"

She didn't know what to say. She remembered her own indifference after the rockslide, how her biggest concern at the time was low shower pressure. Not the fact that a valuable member of their crew had apparently just been killed.

Eli swore out loud. "If he knew, he would have been so disappointed in me!"

She blinked. "In you?"

"Nobody cared," Eli went on, ignoring her question. "But it was his own fault nobody cared! And now look! He's dying, I'm drunk, Chloe can't stop crying, you're a wreck, and the colonel is about ready to put someone's head through a wall. All because he changed and made us care about him! Why couldn't he have stayed the way he was? We're just fine getting rid of someone we don't like, but losing someone we love is impossible!"

She winced. He seemed not even to know she was there anymore, just haranguing his mug like it was the source of all his problems. She looked helplessly to Brody behind the counter, who was just leaning forward with his forehead in his hand. "Eli…"

He shoved his hair back, and she could see tears on his face. She reached out, pried the mug from his hands, and held on to his fingers; he dropped his head but didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, as much for him as for herself. "You're right: this isn't easy. But it's not meant to be. What would life be like without someone to love? People are the most important things in the universe, and the fact that you're in here right now proves that you know that. The more you care about someone, the more it hurts when you lose them." She squeezed his hands. "But it won't hurt this bad forever. I promise."

"Can I see him?" he tearfully asked.

"He's asleep," she repeated, gently. "He really needs his rest."

"Well, can I just come anyway? I just want to see him."

She gave in, nodding. "Yeah, of course. Chloe's in there now, but I don't think she'll mind the company."

They rose together. Tamara got the disinfectant from Brody, then helped Eli make his staggering way to the infirmary. They found the occupants in the same way she'd left them. Varro ducked away without a word.

"No change," Chloe reported. "Although Colonel Young came by."

"Did he need something?"

She shook her head. "He just watched Rush for awhile and then he left. He brought us some food."

Tamara smiled a little at the colonel's thoughtfulness. She regarded Chloe for a moment, taking in the spiritless eyes, the pale lips, the slouched shoulders. "Hey," she said softly, "why don't you get some rest? You need it. I can handle it from here."

Chloe looked like every part of her wanted to protest, but she nodded weakly and went to the bed Tamara had napped in earlier, curling up into a little ball and pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. Tamara checked Rush's pulse. Weak, weaker every day, but still there. He was breathing normally for the most part. His vitals were within acceptable ranges. She put the disinfectant on her desk and returned to the chair, falling into it with an overburdened sigh. Eli sat in the other chair and just watched.

"I've been trying to figure out who stole the vaccine," he said. He was staring at Rush's sleeping form, an unknowable sadness in his inebriated eyes. "I've checked kino after kino. I can't find anything. Whoever did it either dodged them all or erased the file."

Tamara nodded. "I know. Rush and I spent hours searching too. I don't know how it happened."

"Who would do that?" Eli wondered aloud. "I mean, why would anyone do that? Don't they trust you?"

He was still staring at Rush. "Huh?" she said, unsure which of them he was talking to.

Now he looked at her. "Well, it's like they didn't believe that the dose they were given would be enough. After all this time you'd think people would realize that you know what you're doing."

That was sweet. This was why she loved Eli so much. "I didn't know what I was doing," she confessed. "It was a wild guess that happened to work out."

He just shrugged. "You've never been wrong before. That's good enough for me."

She could have kissed him. "Thank you, Eli."

He smiled back a little, then didn't. "So how...how do you think it'll happen?" He cringed in preparation of her answer, but did not retract the question.

She looked at her patient. "I can't say for sure, but a guess...a heart attack or stroke would be the most likely. Although with that clot he coughed up yesterday, that adds a whole slew of other possibilities. I mean, he could...drown for all I know. Or choke to death, or starve…" She hid behind her hands, overcome by a violent shudder. She was desperate for something else to think about. Anything else. She looked at Eli, who seemed ready to break down again. "Tell me about your mom," she said quickly, to salvage their sanity.

"Huh?"

"You know, what's she like? I know about her illness so you don't have to talk about that if you don't want to."

He paused thoughtfully. "No, it's okay. Sometimes it's good to talk about it." Shifting to make himself more comfortable, he said, "She was a nurse, like I told you. Well, the other you. Before she got sick she was really cool. Her cookies are worth killing for and I always told her she should have owned a bakery. Nothing got to her. She was always happy, always smiling about something. I think that's probably what my dad couldn't handle, in the end. She changed so much and he just couldn't cope. But it wasn't her fault."

He was scowling at Rush, but she knew he wasn't seeing him. "That must have been so hard," she prodded softly.

He snorted. "It sucked. Big-time. I hated him for so long for leaving. My mom just fell apart." He sat quietly for a minute, and then continued, a little guiltily, "But it's not just her. I mean yeah, it was her husband and everything, but he was my father. Like, what about me, you know?"

Tamara nodded. Poor kid. A curious thought, considering they had recently celebrated his thirtieth birthday. "You were fourteen," she remembered.

He snorted. "Yeah. Fourteen, barely shaving, going through that 'special' time of growing up when you feel like everyone hates you anyway. Did wonders for my self-esteem, you know? Even if he couldn't stand being around my mom, what about me? He left me too. He left me with her. Like I wasn't worth sticking around for. Or I wasn't worth taking along." He bit down on his lip and swiped at a tear crawling down his face, as if offended that it was there.

She reached over Rush's body and took Eli's hand. "Hey."

"I didn't mean that," he assured her. The dam had broken, and he was crying again. "I do love my mom. I don't wish my dad had taken me with him, I don't wish my mom had been left alone, I just wish she hadn't gotten sick in the first place. But some days it's so hard, T.J., to look at her knowing how sick she is, knowing how there's no cure, I'm going to lose her too early. I wish that wasn't happening. I wish I didn't have to watch it happen."

"I know," Tamara said. "I know you love your mom, Eli. It's okay."

He leaned forward with an elbow on his knee, propping his face up with his hand. He held Tamara's fingers tightly. Looking at Rush, he said, "It's like this. I'm doing the same thing with him. He's leaving me too, just like my dad. Is this supposed to be practice or something? Is this a test? I think I'm failing."

She shook her head and stood, coming around the bed, holding his hand the whole way. She stood behind him and wrapped him in her arms. "You're not failing, you're normal. This is the grieving process. It's natural."

"I'm tired of losing people," he choked out.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. "Me too."

"He told me he was proud of me," he said. "My dad never told me that. My mom says it, but she's my mom, she's supposed to. Rush said he's proud of me. What am I supposed to do with that?"

Tamara held him a little tighter. "You remember it," she said. "You honor it. You keep on working hard. For him."

He sniffed. "You know what's the stupidest part? I've learned so much from him. He's taught me more than I ever thought I could know. And all I ever learned from my father was how to make your kid hate you."

"That is still a valuable lesson," she allowed.

He snorted. "Yeah. But I'd rather not have learned it."

"I know." She held him for a moment longer, planted a kiss on his head for good measure, and returned to her seat. Eli reached for Chloe's tray of food with a mutter about how she wasn't doing anything with it. "I'd really love to meet your mom," she said softly.

He nodded and smiled a little, drying his face with his hand. "I think she'll love to meet you too."

"Let's make that happen."

"Probably at the arrival."

She made a face. "After," she said. "I don't know how it's all going to go down once we get back. We might not have time."

He didn't say anything, just nodding and spooning in some food. They fell into a deep silence, lost within themselves, listening to the clicking of the I.V. monitor and the gentle breathing of the sleeping souls in the room. Eli succumbed to the alcohol around 2230, slumping in the chair, probably not comfortable and setting up to wake up stiff in the morning. Tamara sat in the quiet and waited.

Thirty minutes later, Rush finally woke. He made a short grunting noise, shifting restlessly, then sat up holding his head.

"Hey," Tamara said, glad he was conscious and himself again. "You okay?"

He shook his head. "Hurts."

"What does?"

"Everything." He groaned. "Painkillers."

His short answers were troubling, but for now she let them go. She took the bottle off the table and unscrewed the lid, handing it to him. "Here." He gave himself a massive dose, enough to worry her, then looked around the room, disoriented. "You slept all day," she explained.

A nod. "Tired."

"Obviously."

"I'm stiff."

That was an improvement in speech. She reached over and began working his muscles. He let out a low hiss, and very gradually managed to release his head. She felt him relax a bit at a time under her touch. "Better?"

"Yeah." He rolled his head side to side and to the front, sighing. "Think I need a walk."

"Really?"

He nodded. "I need to get out of this bed." He turned to swing his legs off and seemed to notice for the first time the young man asleep in the chair. "Oh."

"Chloe is here too," Tamara told him. "She wanted me to let her know when you woke up."

He was quiet at first, then he shook his head. "No, don't wake them. We won't be gone long."

"It sounded important. She wanted to talk to you."

He slid to the foot of the bed, forcing Tamara to follow him with the I.V. pole. "Let them sleep. They'll be here when we get back."

Yeah, and they'll be pissed if they wake up and find you missing. She obliged with a sigh, coming up to his side to take his arm. "Where to?"

"Garden," he said. "I could do with some fresher air."

No doubt. They went away, steering through the halls to the greenhouse. The dome had been repaired by the maintenance robots not long after they came out of stasis, and all the plants were thriving again with flowers and fruit. Rush said nothing as they meandered through, keeping his eyes upturned, now and then reaching out to touch one of the shrubs. Twice he stopped walking just to stare out the glass. Tamara suspected that was partly the purpose of this haunt. He needed the air, but he really wanted the stars.

She wanted to say something. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, to reassure him, to tell him he was going to be all right. She wanted to promise that she was going to fix this. She wanted the lie. She wanted the truth. She wanted the lie to be the truth. She wanted to see him smile again. I tried my best. She watched him study the heavenly lights, knowing it would be the last time he ever saw them, and she couldn't seem to say anything at all. Words had become meaningless now. Sometimes, her best wasn't good enough.

"Tamara."

She blinked. "Huh?"

He was looking at her oddly. "You okay?"

No, I'm not okay. And he probably knew that. She cleared her throat. "Yeah. You?"

He nodded. Everyone was lying these days.

"Observation deck?" she suggested.

"Yeah."

Off they went. Neither spoke much, just remarking on how quiet the ship was. He mentioned that the silence was one of the reasons he liked working late at night. Easier to concentrate, he said.

Halfway to the observation deck, Rush stopped with a stifled gasp. His fingers tightened on her hand, and she turned to ask him what was wrong…and she barely caught him as he went down, grabbing him under the arms, his body limp and dead weight. Cradling the back of his head, she dropped him frantically to the floor and shook him.

"Rush!"

He wasn't breathing.

There was a moment of paralyzing horror before her body finally responded to her brain's rabid demands to do something, and she was performing CPR before she realized it. Compress, compress, compress, compress, compress, breathe! Compress, compress, compress, compress, compress, breathe! Was she even doing this right?!

She checked for a pulse. Nothing. Hysteria sealed her throat and her eyes began to burn. "Oh, come on, Rush," she said out loud, pumping his chest. "Not now, not yet, come on, hang on." She gave him a breath and checked again, finding nothing. "Come on, Rush!" She yelled it that time, compressing again. "Please…"

The old familiar darkness was encroaching. It wasn't just the absence of light here in space, it was the darkness, the hopelessness, the knowledge that everything she was doing was all for naught. She'd felt this before, with Doctor Simms on Icarus, with Riley, with every person who had ever died on the table. Why was she trying? She had expected this all along. Why was she working so hard to save someone she knew she was going to lose? Why shouldn't she just…let him go?

"No!" she cried out to the void. "No, don't go yet! Come on, Rush! Not yet! Breathe!"

And he did. Tears were flowing now and she pulled him up, holding him close, rocking. He was coughing, gasping, not quite conscious, and she just clung to him and wept.