AN: Usual disclaimer, the rights to Star Trek etc belong to someone else.
Chapter 25
'We need to move from here', Uhura fretfully palming the edge of the broken dagger imbedded in Shyloh. In the darkness all she could do was feel, it was utterly pointless trying to see anything using the weak glow from the shuttlecraft. Sweeping the sweat from her brow, Uhura rested back on her knees, one ear on footsteps scattering throughout the cave, the other gauging Shyloh's ability to breath. Unfamiliar with Perpetuan biology, the wound in front of her could be life threatening or just a hindrance. Back to probing the would be tender area, a low moan interrupted Uhura's inspection.
'Pull...out...close...wound…'
'No, I can't do that', Uhura chiding the injured female, guiding Shyloh's inquisitive hands back her side. She continued, 'there is insufficient light to do anything other than make sure you remain comfortable'.
'Boot…' directing Uhura's free hand down to a cylindrical object embedded on the side of her calf. Straining forwards, in the dark Shyloh's pupils blown to gather as much stray light as possible, rapidly shrinking at the onslaught of harsh glow. 'Torchlight', followed by a toothy smile encrusted in blood.
'But why? You'll bleed out-', Uhura concentrated the light source at the sight of the injury. Both now had a clear view of the protruding weapon. Shyloh shuffling sidewards to gain a better view, bit down a Perpetuan curse word.
'Phaser...cauterise wound…' her breathing more laboured than before. Giving what sounded like an annoyed huff, Shyloh used the last of her strength to yank the dagger out. 'Now', she gurgled, blood spurting upwards.
'Goddamit!' Uhura fumbling with the phaser, the realisation that Shyloh wasn't asking for help with the dagger, she needed someone to hold the damned light.
'Medication...shuttle…' baring her weight on Uhura's shoulder, both struggled to their feet. Side by side they staggered towards Scotty's location. The lights of the panels in the shuttle casting an eerie silhouette of reds, blues and yellows. Uhura's head barely reaching Shyloh's shoulder, an absurd sight to witness, if anyone could see.
By now anyone who had a torch had flipped it on, illuminating the cave in spots. Kirk squinted whenever the goggles were caught by a stray beam. As useful as they were in the dark, as soon as anyone pointed a light source in this general direction, the green hue cast by the lenses, stopped functioning as he was temporarily blinded. Fuck this shit ripping off the goggles, Kirk commanded the lights back on putting an end to the darkness.
Spock was almost at the full blown fight between the warring cousins. The urgency of grunts between the swinging fists and kicks, disregarding gender inequality which genetics not social convention dictated Samson and Freedan were pound for pound an equal match. Freedan's blows veered from accurate to sloppy and unfocused. Both tussling within mere footsteps of the shuttle craft door, shouts of who had the right to the vehicle punctuated tit for tat blows. Freedan obviously the most frustrated his raw echoing around the cave network. The Higher both cousins ascended up the ramp, the more intense the fighting became. Samson though more graceful, was disadvantaged by the gradient of the ramp constantly forcing her weight onto the forward foot and therefore leaning into the blows. Forearm aloft to prevent an errant blow, her dagger at last exposed to Freedan, who wasted no time snatching and wielding it like the lethal weapon it was. Grim determination coloured her features, move after move designed to protect her from the taller fighter. The sting of the blade slicing through her jacket, as Freedan sought out a soft spot to incapacitate her.
Spock stretched out his forearm to halt the captain. From his vantage point and various mental calculations he worked through. He concluded in the time it would take for them to subdue the fighters, either they - he or Kirk, would be dead or sustain even more life threatening injuries. Whilst Scotty was wrong about the occurrence of luck, the melodious trend of them somehow surviving against the odds, could not be maintained.
Perched on his toes and ready to join in, Kirk finally understood what had halted his Science Officer. But before he could act, out of the shuttle flew Kulj'ita, out of pride or love, possibly both. He deftly side stepped the swinging blade of Freedan, timing the downward arch of his incredibly long reach with that of Samson uncharacteristically stumbling. His blade sliced dangerously close to the tendons in Freedan's neck, the surprise frozen across his features. Swaying back from Samson, Freedan stumbled off the ramp disbelieving the injury from whom he considered an inferior fighter. Pouncing on provost, both clattered to the floor, trading blows as they rolled further and further away from the shuttle. Samson, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, scurried onto the shuttle craft dodging wayward fire from both Spock and Kirk, barrelling towards the shuttle at a herculean pace now the odds had been evened.
'How long do we have?' Uhura turned to face Scotty after depositing Shyloh into the nearest chair.
Fanning away the smell of seared flesh, Scotty brushed past Uhura, a telling waggle of his finger, the tricorder took over and finalised the repair for an appreciative Shyloh.
'Scotty!' Uhura petulantly demanded. The urge to do something thrumming through her veins. She yearned to run, sprint, so something.
'What?'
'The bomb, the craft, we all go boom', miming an explosion.
Glancing to the side at the impatient officer, 'She was lying her red head off. All she did was cause a distraction' grudgingly he admired Samson's moxie. 'No bomb, just the waste of a perfectly good nissle…' he lamented.
'Fine, then I need to go help Spock and Jim', setting her phaser to the highest setting one foot onto the ramp, an arm roughly pulled her back. Scowl on face Uhura ready to fight.
'Oh no you don't. You and the baby have had more than enough near misses. You'll stay right here where it is safer'. Manoeuvring Uhura further into the craft, Scotty plucked the phaser from Uhura's hand. The craft was as good as any for Shyloh and Uhura to remain. 'Look, Jim would never forgive himself if anything happened to you…'
'This is not about Jim', easing herself upright toe to toe with her best friend, she made to sweep by him.
'You're correct', moving to block her approach to the door, 'it's about the baby'. He...she...it...didn't ask to be here, but you have duty of care to make sure they make it safely back to the Enterprise'. Ignoring her blustering he continued, 'You sit your arse down now!…'
From his vantage point, Spock could see the scuffle between the two males was at an end. Kulj'ita lay broken on the floor, eyes staring un-focussed into the distance. Kirk's motion that he now stop Freedan once and for all, coerced as he sprinted off towards his nemesis. Distracted by the Captain's haste, Spock came face to face with Samson's boot, and thus unceremoniously deposited arse first onto the floor. Nursing a broken nose, there was nothing he could do but witness Freedan's shuttle fire its engines and navigate away.
Never one to admit defeat, especially to an inferior most vexatious opponent, Freedan stumbled to his feet. 'Captain…' he wheezed, 'it appears you have me at a disadvantage' sneering at the human pointing a phaser directly at his torso. 'Should I surrender now that Samson has won? Or will you kill me where I stand?' raising his palms in mock surrender.
Finger twitching on the fire button, the other hand steadied his aim. Kirk knew it would be so easy to kill Freedan, every single nerve in his body screamed kill him. That he deserved to kill Freedan. Sweat dripped into his eyes, the salty sting grounding him. Nearby the familiar voice of reason, desperately pleaded with him to come back from the brink. Weeks this man had taken away from him, the torture, the toying with all their lives. Arm pointed rigidly towards the Perpetuan, he resisted the pull of Spock removing the weapon from his grasp.
'No!' Kirk rasped. Was it a warning for Spock or himself? Everything hurt, absolutely ached, the throbbing headache exacerbated each time he moved his head. What he wouldn't give for a good dose of a hypospray.
'Captain, do not do this. There is nowhere he can go', Kirk's grip lessened slightly, but not enough for Spock to take the weapon. Ignoring Freedan's taunts, Spock trialled a second phaser on the Perpetuan, 'I am coming to restrain you. If you do anything deemed dangerous the Captain is well within his rights to stun or if necessary kill you…' limping closer to his quarry.
Freedan's strangled yelp, followed by arms flailing at his back put heed to Spock's approach. Frantically clawing at a 12 inch dagger now imbedded in his back. Swivelling onto his knees, Shyloh stood over his fallen form. No time for a witty come back, the cold sting of a blade swept left to right across his exposed neck, finishing what Kulj'ita had started. The death blow ending the madness that touched them all.
The unprovoked attack snapped Kirk out of his stupor. Manhandling the dagger from Shyloh, it fell to the floor like trash. Angrily yanking her towards him, she pressed into him, arms crossed at the chest. 'What did you do?' demanded the human, gripping a little too hard for her liking. If it was from concern for her killing or because she took the kill away from him, it was impossible to tell.
'What you were not doing...I ended him…' transfixed by the body on the floor, she dazed dreamily at the dead Perpetuan. Drawing her attention back to the blue bloodshot eyes scrutinising her, she shrugged. 'You let Samson and the Sunstones escape, and no doubt would have shown him mercy…' obvious distaste at Freedan's perceived treatment.
'You don't know what I would have done!', doubt and tiredness colouring his response. He let her go, and realising Samson had indeed escaped laced his hands behind his head tempering his fury. Spock's movement slow, impeded by several broken ribs, he stood as mediator between the Captain and Shyloh. Both laying claim to wanting Freedan dead even more than the other. Neither once acknowledging that Spock too held a claim.
From a distance Scotty called out, a few minutes later he and Uhura jogged into view slowing their approach once Freedan's fallen form came into line of sight. Seeking answers to what had happened, Uhura tugged Scotty's attention to Shyloh's bloody hands and the look of someone now at peace. All five stood offset from one another, debating the best course of action. The scrape of someone or something approaching, all drew closer ready to protect themselves if needed.
''elp…'elp me...' Getta shuffled forward, propped up by a makeshift crutch. Sweeping a cautionary gaze across the five, he collapsed in a heap. Uhura arrived at his side, having scanned his injuries furiously worked away at those most likely to kill him sooner rather than later. Scotty fashioned some stabilisers to keep everything still. Kirk questioned his survival, questioning the odds to which Spock aimlessly supplied.
Forever indebted to them tending to his injuries, tears silently carved downwards. Embarrassed, Getta tried to look away. Shyloh hung back, never wavering from Freedan's side. He may be dead, but she was taking no chances. Spock and Kirk flanked them all, ready to defend them from anything else that might surprise them.
Having been semi-sedated, Getta caught snippets of conversation about Samson's escape. He began to whine, Uhura initially ignoring him convinced it was the pain talking, ''top, 'ease…' he slurred, weakly clasping her wrist mid movement. He steadfastly refused to let go.
'...'tones…'afe…'ide…'afe…' willing her to understand, repeating the same four words over and over.
Scotty questioned the futility of Uhura engaging in the conversation. Agitated, even louder Getta pronounced '...'tones…'afe!…'tones…'afe!…' imploring her to make use of that communications genius and understand. Forlornly he averted his gaze. 'Orry, Orry'...that she understood. On her feet she stretched out the kinks and knots, after all the time fighting for their lives, it dawned on her just how thirsty she was, and probably everyone else was. She frequently caught Kirk stealing glances her way, though they had come to some sort of agreement much more needed to be said. With everything that had happened, who had time to think let alone vocalise what really needed to be said. In a way she dreaded going back to the ship, it meant she would have to consider what needed to happen next. Down here, the main goal had been to find her friends and stay alive. There had been little chance to do any meaningful thinking, other than react to the given stimulus.
'I'm going to find water', moving off before anyone could object and escape the maudlin thoughts. After the last fight, all Perpetuans, bar Shyloh, were long gone. Scotty having used the setup Samson rigged to confirm everything was all clear. Balancing on her haunches she rifled through some overturned boxes to find anything that could be drunk. Weapon, weapons and more weapons, the lack of water irked her no end. Then it hit her, what Getta had been trying to say.
'The Sunstones...they're here...somewhere…' out of breath, she held her side from the oncoming stitch. 'I understand. Where are the sunstones?' challenging Getta to speak up again.
Just then the swish of an approaching shuttlecraft interrupted them. Awe struck Scotty whispered conspiratorially to the rest , 'you all see that, right?' never once breaking gaze from the craft settling on the cave floor. From the haze, stepped out Hikaru Sulu, enveloped in a bear hug from the overwhelmed Scotsman. Scotty muttered something about checking if this was real or weeping if it was not.
'I'm real Mr Scott…' A welcome nod to his friends, before ushering them into the vehicle. 'It's time to go home…'
McCoy released Kirk from sickbay at 72 hours after they had returned from Perpetous, a stern warning, 'two weeks rest from all duties, and Jim you'd better listen to me on this one...' 1300 back in his quarters sweats and a t-shirt adorned his body, he padded around bare foot ruffling his hair with a towel after taking a well earned shower. Throwing the towel down to the floor, he brushed smooth skin for the first time in weeks, relieved to no longer have a beard. Dolefully assessing the space, it was cold and sparse without Uhura's things. On his return she had been moved into different quarters further down the corridor, security detail included. Before being parted, she had whispered they were having a son, and then she was gone. Three weeks away from the Enterprise and she, because all ships were female, seemed different, tarnished and dull. The whites no longer brilliant and the sound of metal a hollow dull thud instead of the sharp definitive sound he was used to. He wondered if three weeks underground had affected his senses.
The ship would orbit of Perpetous for at least for one more day. He, Sulu, Scotty, Spock and Uhura were to undergo questioning by Shyloh's unit, not an experience he was looking forward to given he had only just left the planet. With Freedan and Kulj'ita dead, Samson missing, they were the only ones in addition to Shyloh who could shed light on the activities within the cave network. Sulu eventually explained how coming across the entrance to the cave networked they had engaged in fire fight with Samson, only to be out gunned for her to escape. Getta would not return to the planet after being confined to the brig. His punishment was still being determined, but the severity not as bad as it could have been because of the action he had taken to save the Sunstones. After being left for dead, he'd crept onto Freedan's craft and hidden them away. He needed absolution, and this was one way to do it. Suddenly burning up Kirk demanded the temperature decrease by 2 degrees. Had it always been this stuffy on board he wondered to himself.
With the last of the adrenaline finally leaving his system, and his bed tempting like a siren's call, he crawled under the covers and sunk into a dreamless sleep. Twelve hours passed without incident, groggily he awoke and reached out for his clock. Out of the darkness 0217 glowed in neon red. Rolling onto his side, he was disturbed by the sound of someone waiting to be let into his quarters. The drone of the door chime eeking its way into his consciousness, battling and winning the fight about whether or not Kirk would return to sleep. Groaning, he slipped out of bed cursing his unexpected and definitely unwanted guest.
'What?' He barked as the doors parted. Bed head greeting whoever stood on the other side.
McCoy deftly replied 'home visit...' pushing past into the darkened room. 'How'd you sleep?' looking around the Captain's quarters.
Barely concealing his annoyance at, one, such a random question and, two, being woken up, he about turned and marched back to bed. The covers yanked over his head, eyes squeezed shut, urging sweet slumber to take him once again. Pissed off at the intrusion, he certainly didn't need a babysitter.
'It's no use Jim, I know you're awake' McCoy approached prone form of the captain. The bed lurched under the weight of the older man as he sat back and rested against the headboard.
'I'm monitoring your vitals and this...' Leaning over to wave the medical tricorder where Kirk's face would be '...let's me know you're awake-'
'How, how does it let you know? Kirk's scratchy voice came from under the covers. 'And does it have a what-the-fuck o metre, cos I got to say I'm erring towards epic levels of not giving a fuck unless you have a damn good reason for being here...'
'In terms simpletons such as yourself can understand, the machine monitors the function of the reticular area of your brainstem. The more alert you are, even if you don't look or feel it...' Judging by him talking to a blanket and not the captain 'the brighter the pretty lights...wanna see?' Pulling the blanket off Kirk.
'Epic levels Bones, epic levels...' Thinly veiled threat to his friend groping for the absent covers..
'Purlease...' Mocking the captain 'you're an amateur at threats. I ain't scared of you.'
'Oh my God Bones, what is it!?' Peering up through hooded eyes.
'I'm here to follow through on my offer...'
'You must have me confused with another blond. Carol is a little shorter than me...' Kirk rolled upwards with a smirk. The two of them in bed made an interesting sight.
The stinging sensation of a backhand slap accosted Kirk's arm. 'Keeping you company when you woke up. Get up, I need real coffee not that fake shit from the replicator'.
So that's how the found themselves in a empty mess hall at 0255. One of the cosier ones it closed during regular sleeping hours. McCoy railroaded Kirk to use captain's override to gain admittance. The lights beamed at 50% power and only the area immediately above them was lit. Huddled at a table nearest the window, the bitter aroma of freshly ground coffee titillated the senses. It dawned on Kirk that McCoy must have been waiting for him to wake up, McCoy was still in his sleep shirt and pj bottoms.
Kirk offhandedly commented 'I had a dream like this...'
'Oh yeah, what happened?' McCoy yawning not fully awake as he led Kirk to believe.
'You weren't in it' Kirk sternly informed McCoy whilst fidgeting with his mug. 'I don't remember all of it. Just, I think Uhura was trying to reach me, but she couldn't.' his voice drifting into silence. Shoving the almost empty mug to the middle of the table, Kirk weary features drawn and pinched, over the three weeks he had lost several kilos.
'Ye, about those dreams. Do they, do they seem any different to you, more lucid? Almost too real?' McCoy nonchalantly inquired taking a sip of his coffee.
'Not really, other than I dream about her a hell of a lot more. And she's all I think about. Suppose it's to be expected...'
'Hmmm...' McCoy pursed his lips.
'What do you mean hmmm?' Not liking the tone, Kirk fixed McCoy with his tell me or I'll punch you glare. It never failed to get bad guys talking during interrogations over the years.
'Cool your jets Jim'. ' McCoy in fits and starts tried to explain 'The bit in your brain which controls dreaming is larger than usual. The other bits in your noggin are acting equally weird, like I've not seen since Uhura was involved with Spock or Spock with Christine since...'
'Ye, I'm too tired to take all that in so I'm going to assume its not a good thing...' Kirk had had his fill of bad. 'So fix me already...' he irritably demanded.
'You don't seem to understand. You are demonstrating mild telepathic abilities. Shoot Uhura only had that skill because of her bond with Spock-'
'Enough of the reminders of Uhura's previous relationship' Kirk snapped.
'Riiiight. Look I don't know how but can certainly guess about why, but you and Uhura have got some freaky mind mojo going on. You're not bonded from what I can tell, you're a hell of a lot more receptive to one another, at least telepathically...'
Kirk slumped back in his chair, the only thing that had changed since the development of the vivid dreams and the epic sledgehammer headache back in the cave was the baby...
And there it was, McCoy instantly saw when it clicked with his friend.
'The baby did this?! How?'
'Damned if I know. I suspect your abilities manifested on Theytan, after you know...anyway they've lain dormant until now'.
'What does Uhura think about...all of this?' He asked uncertainly, sipping on his coffee.
'Why would I discuss your brain with her? She having crazy dreams too?' Answering his own question 'of course, it's a common for pregnant women to have wacky dreams. She probably doesn't even realise...'
Finally able to address the recurring needling thought, he lowered his voice into a growl 'She's carrying my child...and you let her come after me?' Suddenly spoiling for a fight, 'What were you, Sulu, oh my God, Scotty thinking?'
McCoy debated what to say next, sleep deprivation making them both likely to say something very stupid. 'Nyota Uhura, you've met her. Strong willed woman, listens to no man...you were missing and would have done the same-'
'They could have been killed!' angrily propelling the mug off the table, it landed with a dull metallic clunk, the contents soaked into the carpet. 'I almost died...' the cold realisation crept up on him, my son may never have known a father. Kirk's hands shook as he battled to control his temper. Jumping to his feet he prowled around like a caged animal, it would be so easy to take everything out on McCoy, take it out on the room.
'I'd better clean that up. Fitzgerald can get real anal about his mess hall. Cleanliness next to godliness and all that'. McCoy rose in search of a cloth to mop up the spillage. A little while later he silently slipped back into position, his coffee long since cold. Committed to seeing Kirk through whatever it was that made him venture out in the middle of the night, he continued 'maybe you should speak to her...' attempting to coax Kirk into the appropriate course of action. From Kirk's non committal response and vacant stare it was obvious he had withdrawn into himself. McCoy slunk back in his seat. Up and down, up and down, up and down Kirk traipsed. It was going to be a long night…morning...whatever...another yawn escaping his lips. He wandered away on the lookout for more coffee.
Kirk slowed till he faltered and the mess hall came back into view once again. According to the gritty feeling every time he blinked it was late, nearly 0412 according to the mess hall clock. He was curious to find McCoy awkwardly slumped over the table with arms aimlessly framing his head. The low whine of snoring and pooling of drool suggested he had been out for some time.
Rousing his friend, McCoy mumbled 'No Carol, not there...' before jolting upright, his left cheek branded with indents from the table. Still half asleep, he was only partially focused on Kirk. Wiping his mouth he slowly blinked several times at before remembering where they were.
'What time is it?' grimacing as he worked out the kinks from his back.
'Gone 0400, go back to Carol...' amused by McCoy's Freudian slip '...and Bones thank you'
With a grunt and dismissive wave McCoy trudged out of the mess hall. In the morning, later that day, whatever, he would catch up with Jim and find out what had happened.
Kirk pondered his next move, 'What is Commander Uhura doing at this moment?' The expected response sleeping, but previous experience of charged rescue missions suggested otherwise.
'Commander Uhura is awake in-' dashing out the door before the computer could finish.
Crew members going about their work without a care in the world gave greetings of 'Captain' as he quickly walked by. From his attire they assumed he had come from an early morning work out. Back near his room slowing down to an easy stroll, the guard watched his approach with interest. Like Getta, Uhura had to face the consequences of her actions, however she had been confined to locations more fitting of the captain's partner. Any suggestion that the mother of his child would be locked up in the brig was unfathomable, and the mammoth outburst levied at Admiral Routledge made sure Uhura would not see the inside of the brig while he was still captain.
'Commander Uhura is not allowed any visitors...' the guard maneuvered his body between Kirk and the door. 'No matter who they are...' eyeing up the captain.
Checking for other crew members, what he was about to do was not strictly befitting a senior officer. Authoritatively he raised his voice, 'that may be so, but I am still captain of this vessel'. Captain's override granting him access to her quarters. Later review of activity logs would see Kirk doing that a lot during over subsequent days.
Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he spotted her curled up on the sofa gazing out of the window into the distance. Hair billowing over her shoulders, night shorts pulled up against her bum as she held her knees close to her body, his night shirt framing her body. He wandered towards her drifting around the table that held unpacked items from their quarters.
'Subtle Jim, real subtle...' a quiet voice acknowledged him still looking outwards at the stars. She wasn't surprised to see him, he knew she suffered from insomnia after stressful away missions. Sleep proved illusive so she sat there looking at the stars, working through her extensive vocabulary identifying the word star from every language she knew.
'You know me, not one to take no for an answer...' debating whether or not to perch on the edge of the sofa.
Exasperated about his indecisiveness she wearily commanded 'Sit down'. Shifting over so he had space. For a while they sat in silence, Uhura wondering when he would get to the point of his visit.
'So Bones tells me my...our telepathy is because of the baby. Started of with sharing dreams or something, maybe shared thoughts.' Reclining back into the cushions, he focused on a random spot above his head, arms dangling limply.
'Outstanding...' She groaned, adding that to the list of weird and wonderful things they faced at that very moment. A few minutes later, 'like what?'
'Dunno, did you ever dream you were desperate to pee and couldn't find the bathroom?'
'I'm pregnant, I'm always desperate to pee' shifting to face him, she sat cross-legged, knees just brushing his thigh.
Furrowing his brow, 'I remembered the night before you rescued me, something about a fire, an explosion and kisses, my eyebrow I think-'
'And jaw', Uhura finished his sentence by lightly touching the area. She felt his resistance, trying not to lean into her touch as their eyes locked.
Shifting back 'what about you?' breaking the spell 'any vivid dreams you want to check with me?'
She sighed, all her dreams since their return seemed to involve sex and discussing that with Kirk at that very moment was not, she rationalised, a good idea. Sorting through her latest dreams she recalled none that would be appropriate to bring up, so she lied. 'None that I can remember'.
'I got to say I'm a bit freaked out, but you, you seem nonplussed by it...'
'On my list of things to worry about right now and later, brain mojo falls into the later camp. Besides, if McCoy was really concerned he would have us both confined to sickbay already'.
'Nyota, what do you want?' Kirk moving the conversation in a different direction.
Confused she uttered 'you came to see me Jim, what do you want?'
He murmured 'I've told you what I want, but I have never asked you what you want...' head falling in her direction, apprehensively he waited for her reply.
It was the first time he has asked and with a rueful smile she considered her options.
'I want to turn back the clock to when you felt able to tell me what was worrying you. I want us to be happy again. I want you to tell me how you really feel about this baby. I want you to stop interfering in my career. I want to trust you. I want...I want to really pee'. Bouncing off the sofa she darted to the bathroom.
'What do you mean you can't trust me!' following after her. 'Everything I did was for a good reason-' cut off by the sound of the toilet flushing.
Planted firmly in front of the bathroom door, when the door eventually whooshed opened the sight of a forlorn Kirk greeted Uhura. She didn't want to hurt him, but he had asked and it would do neither of them any good to lie, not anymore. With the realisation he was not going to let her pass, she pulled down the toilet lid and took a seat in the brilliant white bathroom. Kirk slumped down to the floor, knees up to his chest and head back against the frame watching, waiting for answers.
'I don't know how to trust you anymore...'
Guiltily admitting what she had struggled to understand for so long. Kirk about to respond, but she cut him off with a shake of the head 'Let me speak, please, just let me say this and then you can respond...'. His silence taken as affirmation she should continue.
In hushed tones 'You're like everyone else, capable of hurting me'. As she spoke it became clear he wasn't the only one with issues. 'You're flawed like everyone else and I don't know how deal with it'. Turning away from his watery gaze 'I placed you on this pedestal of perfection, made myself believe you were the only person who would never ever betray my trust. The one person who would always be there for me...always have my best intentions in mind. So I let myself be vulnerable. But you're not perfect, and it's a huge fucking shock to realise it'.
No tears, no hysterics, just raw exposed emotion, an uncomfortable feeling for someone always so in control. Shivering, she stepped over the immobilised Kirk in search of her throw. She could have been cold or it was the effort of telling him the truth, or it was both, she just didn't know.
'You really don't trust me?' His voice thick with anguish, pulling himself upright it was an immense struggle to move, to process how he would begin to respond to that. He bit back the surge of bile churning away in his stomach and carefully sat down at the table. Purposely picking the chair directly opposite her.
Wrapped up and settled back on the sofa, Uhura nervously peered at him uncertain what to say. 'Not 100% like before-'.
'You must know I never wanted to hurt you', he adamantly declared. 'But it's not fair'. Lowering his voice, 'I'm human, I make mistakes...I don't know how many times I have to ask you to forgive me. Jeez, maybe it's me who should be pissed off now'.
'I forgive you, I just can't forget-.'
'Won't forget...' he muttered sorrowfully. She started in reaction to his comment. Heart pounding in her chest she turned away from him once again. She did not want him to see her sniff back any tears. Vowing there would be no more crying.
While she looked away he stealthily made his way to the sofa. As the area beside her dipped, she quickly looked towards him visually questioning his motives. Flinching as his hand slipped into hers, he squeezed it tight before releasing and slipping through the gap in her blanket resting it on her stomach. His way of acknowledging the baby, she felt the trepidation within him as he relaxed into her. Slowly but firmly he explored her belly, his son no bigger than a golf ball, he would never be able to feel him but convinced himself otherwise.
Looking up at her in awe, 'so we made a baby...'
'Yeah, we did...' head spinning with the change in topic.
'He needs both his parents...'
'He has them...'
'I mean together...' his hand slipped from her stomach and back into hers. Now she was tense again, 'Relax, I'm not going to propose again, we're clearly not ready for marriage. But we're talking, it's a start…'
'It is...' relaxing once again, 'but we both know I will either be dismissed or at the very least suspended from my role for a long time. Being together is going to be difficult...'
'But it's not insurmountable...' allowing a little hope to creep into his voice. 'We have to at least try if not for us, for the little guy in there'.
'I guess we do' Peeling out of his grip, she needed to flex her legs. The tightening in her calf a sign of cramp, McCoy had said it was one of the perks of pregnancy.
'So you're agreeing if we fix this, we can be together again? Standing up to face her, his hands gently resting on her forearms.
'Yes...maybe'.
'So what are we now? Because back on Perpetous...you felt it, I sure as hell did, still do.'
'Undefined...together...working through stuff'. Slowly allowing her heart to reassert itself in the battle with brain.
Yes, there was still that undeniable draw. She wasn't going to lie to herself. She still loved him, just as much as she ever had, possibly even more now that Jr was involved.
'Uh huh...' as if it all made sense to him. 'Promise...' an idea formulating in his head.
'Promise what?'
'That you are still committed to me, like I am committed to you and we'll work through this because we love one another'
'Ok, I promise...' unsure where he was going with this.
'Fine...Good'. He ran over to the replicator 'two plain gold bands...' He could see she was getting ready to protest. Turning to her, he said 'trust me...' aware of the irony given her earlier statement. Blanketed in a haze of white light the bands appeared, snatching them from the machine he walked back to her. Taking her hand he lovingly peered at her.
'You promised me we would work through this. This ring is a contract of that promise...' slipping it onto her ring finger. Understanding what he needed from her, she tentatively took the ring from his open palm and placed it on his ring finger.
'By the power vested in me as ship's captain I declare us a work in progress with the expectation that at some point this will become something more'.
Bending in for a kiss, he halted waiting for permission before their lips lightly touched. It soon turned into something else altogether different. Picking her up, she straddled him enveloping him in the blanket. Her hands cupped his face earnestly she proclaimed 'I do love you Jim, and I'm sorry too', as he walked them back to the bed before gently laying her down. Shifting his weight to her side to avoid crushing the baby.
'We don't have to do anything. I don't want to, you know, hurt him...'
'Don't worry', she pushed him onto his back before straddling him. 'See this way he doesn't gets squished...'