Ugh, it's been a stressful couple of weeks emotionally and physically, and it's not over yet. My family is going through a multitude of sudden changes and I'm highly involved in all of them and anyway I thought I'd get this chapter up sooner but c'est la vie. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 22 – Vemod and Burgundy

The following morning—if it could be called that, since there was nowhere in the facility to see daylight—Madelyn woke with a knot in her stomach that made her want to crawl to the toilet and vomit, and simultaneously stay in bed curled in the fetal position. Her head pounded with the worst ache she could remember having. Khan had warned her the effects of his blood transfusion would wear off and she was quickly coming to terms with the truth of his warning.

When she did manage to make it into the bathroom, she had nothing in her stomach to throw up and realized the source of her painful nausea wasn't in her digestive system. Frustrated that she'd stumbled out of bed just for this, she leaned back against the bathroom wall, her forehead in her hand as though that would make her headache go away. She glanced up only when Khan walked in carrying a bottle of painkillers.

"Come to say I told you so?" she muttered.

Khan crouched beside her and emptied three pills into his hand for her to take. When she grabbed them, she wasn't ignorant of the way her fingertips brushed his palm.

"My blood did most of the critical healing," he said.

Madelyn licked her lips and forced the pills down her dry throat. She was too lethargic to try to get up for water. She tensed a little when Khan pressed two fingers to her neck, feeling her pulse.

"The transfusion did more damage than I expected. I want you to fully recover from the trauma before you can think about leaving this place."

It was hard to avoid his piercing gaze when he was so close to her, so she resorted to staring down at the floor. "So you've decided that I'm free to leave as soon as I'm better?"

"Did our discussion yesterday not resolve anything?"

"I wouldn't call it a discussion so much as a shouting fest."

"I should have known to expect nothing but hostility from you," he replied. "And it was well-deserved."

Madelyn turned her head just enough so she could look at him this time, a hint of satisfaction pricking her as he admitted to his wrongdoings for a second time. His smile was faint, but it was there. He was probably trying to reassure her, since she doubted he was looking back on their argument with much enthusiasm.

"Those painkillers were dated, but they're the strongest I could find," he continued. "They'll kick in soon. Meanwhile, is there anything else you need?"

She wanted to slap him just for being so agreeable. If he thought he could win her back this easily, he hadn't been paying attention.

"I just need to feel better so I can get back to the real world. You know the Federation probably has people out looking for you."

"If they didn't, I'd be concerned for the general state of governmental affairs, wouldn't you?"

Madelyn stared at him, wondering if he was being serious or actually trying to joke, something she didn't see him being fond of.

"Don't worry," he continued. "They won't find us here. There are no active transponders on this base. In fact, all of the technology here is obsolete."

"Oh, I wouldn't be opposed to them finding us," she muttered. At least if they were found, she'd be able to more easily convince Khan she didn't need him, even though she was quietly starting to wonder if she wanted him—a little. This thought coupled with what she'd just noticed on his face made her simultaneously angry with herself. She couldn't resist.

"You've got something on your face," she said, inwardly berating herself for being compelled to do what she was about to do.

Khan raised his eyebrows slightly and tilted his chin down, as though giving her a better look. She raised a hand to wipe the dark smudge from his forehead, chewing on the inside of her lip as her fingers brushed against his hair for less than a second. She had to pretend not to notice the tiny smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"What have you been doing?" she asked, studying the grease now smeared onto her thumb.

"There's an old shuttle in this facility's hangar. I'm preparing it to fly again."

She looked up at him, surprised at this revelation. "Were you going to tell me about this?"

"I just did."

Of course Khan would never park himself somewhere without any reasonable way out of Starfleet's clutches. He'd just been biding his time. "And you're planning on going where exactly?"

"Somewhere far outside of Federation space."

He gained a distant look in his eye and it was like being hit with a car door as Madelyn realized his next step was to flee because he no longer had anything left to fight for.

"You can join me if you want, but I'm leaving that decision up to you."

She shifted against the wall and pushed herself up a little so she wasn't so hunched over. The painkillers were already starting to kick in. "How long until it's ready to fly?" she asked, keeping a careful tone in her voice. She didn't want to give him any ideas.

"Its problems are miniscule, but I'm adding basic warp capability. A simple process I can complete within a few days."

She tried to read what he was thinking, but it was like looking into an emotional mirror. He was probably waiting to hear her answer, which she couldn't bring herself to give. If he continued to think his crew was gone, then she would become the center of his attentions, and she wasn't sure she was comfortable with that.

At least he was allowing her the choice.

She never would have imagined someone like him would even care whether the ones under his control had agency. Historically, he was painted as a ruler with a steel fist glued tightly shut with ego. There was never mention of a private life, or even an inner circle. Shrouded in mystery, Khan's personal dealings weren't known to anyone. Madelyn still couldn't help but be confused and surprised at his behavior, and slightly grateful despite her own resentment.

"I guess I'll need a little time," she said slowly. It was easier than telling him outright that she didn't want to go, especially not when she was in this state. She hated being so weak in front of him.

"Good." Khan straightened and looked ready to leave the room until he extended an open hand to her. "Now you need to get off the floor."

She raised an eyebrow up at him. "I'm comfortable right where I am."

"No. If you're to regain your strength, you need to eat. Get up."

Pursing her lips at his demanding tone, Madelyn knew he was right. She hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. Not that her stomach liked the idea, but her body would thank her later. Khan's blood had given her the stamina to work out yesterday, but now she could barely get off the bathroom floor through her own effort.

She reached up and took his hand, which tightened around hers instantly, and then she was on her feet in one swift motion. As she took a breath, her body felt separated from her head. Her head pounded and she shut her eyes at the fireworks clouding her vision. It didn't hurt as badly as it had earlier, but in the back of her mind she knew she would've passed out right then if Khan's arm hadn't snaked around her waist and held her tightly against him.

She kept her hands glued to her forehead, willing away the headache and making a concerted effort not to touch him as much as the rest of her body already was. A few steps later, she was able to sink down onto the bed. She groaned weakly and hunched over, resting her elbows on her knees until the vertigo faded. Khan stood close by, his hand on her shoulder briefly until he stepped away.

"I'll be back. There's water on the nightstand."

Madelyn watched him go, then grabbed the tin cup waiting for her and downed it, feeling somewhat better as the seconds ticked by. She was afraid to stand up again, not wanting to be hit with vertigo. She couldn't remember a time in her life she had ever felt so weak. Probably a combination of the trauma Owen had inflicted on her, and Khan's blood.

He returned to the room a few minutes later with a stack of MREs in his hand.

"Why am I feeling this way?" she asked, taking the packets from him without barely a glance and ripping open the top one. Beef teriyaki, according to the label. "If I'm part Augment, shouldn't your blood have been helpful to me rather than harmful? And how did Owen handle it so well?"

"Owen was probably given a concentrated dose specifically designed to affect certain bodily functions. I have no way of knowing what might have been added to his treatments." Khan slid his chair over and sat down nearby. "And I beg to differ that he handled it 'well'."

"You know there were other reasons for his behavior." Madelyn kept her focus buried in her food as she scraped out the contents of the bag with an old aluminum spoon.

Khan was quiet for a moment, but she didn't want to look up to gauge his reaction. Besides, this old, prepackaged food was surprisingly good.

"I gave you a raw injection," he said finally. "An ordinary human being would not have survived that without proper medical attention, and even if they did, it'd be weeks before they recovered. We both know you're not an ordinary human."

He was so very good at reminding her of that uncomfortable fact. "We also both know that shouldn't change anything between us. I'm not obligated—"

"It changed everything the moment Dr. Madsen learned this about you."

"But he couldn't have known what Owen would do. He wanted my baby alive, to be his lab rat."

"Dr. Madsen wanted our child's blood, same as the next scientist would have. It makes little difference."

She stared at him, her growing sense of his confusing vulnerability swept away. "You should see why I don't want to be with you," she said quietly. "You're just as bad as them."

If her words had ever hurt him, she wondered if this was what he looked like. He leaned back in his chair, lifting his chin just enough to display the anger he was probably stifling. He was a machine, bred in a test tube. She didn't think he could be this way.

"Whatever happened to Owen, he wasn't himself. He was…" She trailed off, considering the words flitting through her mind. A cruel brute, unwilling to hold back. A monster.

"I will find him," Khan said softly.

"What if I don't want you to?" she countered.

She could never forgive Khan for his methods, but she knew immediately what he'd say.

"I will never forget what he took from us."

His use of the word "us" pissed her off, but there was no reason to take it out on him this time. It would only escalate their conversation into a repeat of yesterday's confrontation. She leaned forward, firming her expression as though she could convince him not to do what he did best. "I know what you'd do to him, and maybe he'd deserve it, but we don't even know if he was acting by choice. I want to believe it wasn't his choice. So if you want me to stay around, you can't go after him."

When he didn't respond she ducked her gaze back to her meal, but she could feel his eyes boring into her. It had felt so good to get that out, though a faint pang of guilt slipped through. Now she was the one manipulating, using his feelings against him.

And somehow it only seemed fair.

"Do you want to be with me, Madelyn?"

The question caught her off guard. She licked the last bit of food from her spoon as she considered what she could say. She didn't know how to answer, but saying no didn't feel truthful either.

"I can't be with someone I can't trust," she said.

His expression carried a warm vulnerability that instantly made her wish she could take her words back. As long as she felt the need to be guarded around him, she knew she couldn't be with him. She knew him so well, and at the same time she barely knew him at all.

"I respect your decision, whatever it may be," he replied, probably to remind himself of something she imagined was really hard to do. "I'd like to show you something, if you don't mind walking."

"This shuttle you've been repairing?"

"No. It's something else you may appreciate."

She nodded and stood carefully from the bed, taking a second to breathe. She wasn't hit with vertigo or pain this time. She still wore the t-shirt and shorts she'd slept in and the room was cold so she went over to the crate sitting in the corner Khan had provided earlier and fished out a sweater. It was an old-fashioned style, dark teal in color, made of knitted material that fastened in the front with buttons, but it was warm. She pulled it tightly around herself then slid her bare feet into her boots and nodded for Khan to lead the way.

Without a word, he turned and headed out into the corridor, and after a moment she followed him. She was conscious of the way her boots tapped on the floor, loud against the backdrop of empty silence, but the space between them was more comforting than usual. There was no pressure, no obligation, not even a word spoken. Just the back of him, right out of arm's reach, and when she realized her eyes were lingering on his form she lurched them away and ground her teeth together. She couldn't afford to go lax in any area of her life right now, especially the physical side. She wasn't even sure she wanted that to be an area of her life anymore.

They'd walked silently for several minutes before Khan stopped and motioned to the open door in the wall up ahead. The corridor ended there, leaving Madelyn to continue past him and down a narrow spiraling stairwell. The door at the bottom of the stairs was locked but Khan appeared to know the combination as he tapped it into the analog keypad. Behind that door was a small, dark room. Madelyn pulled her sweater closer around her against the cool, damp air as Khan flipped a light switch by the door.

The room was stacked from floor to ceiling with dusty shelves of identical boxes and towers of old wooden crates. Madelyn looked around confused and curious at the same time. Nothing was labeled and it all looked the same. She went over and pried open the lid of the closest box just enough to reveal a bed of straw inside, and nestled amidst the dry material was a dark elongated glass bottle. She quickly pulled the lid completely off so she could lift the bottle from its nest and read the paper label.

"This wine is over two hundred years old! How on earth?" She turned to face Khan as he came up behind her, clutching the bottle in her hands.

"The temperature and humidity levels of this room have been kept at optimal levels to ensure these last remaining bottles lasted as long as I needed them to."

"This is your wine." She suddenly felt like she was stating the obvious as a faint smile played at his lips.

"I once owned a winery north of Solapur. The climate in Maharashtra was optimal for experimentation. But my vineyards were destroyed in a series of bombings soon after I had this room constructed. Now most of what's left is here."

Madelyn looked from Khan and across the rows of boxes, each one probably containing a bottle of wine which he had personally seen to the protection of. In a sense, this room contained his own personal legacy, however small. The parallels between this room and his quest to save his crew suddenly hit her, and she fought to hide this revelation behind a mask of interest in the bottle between her fingers. The label suddenly looked familiar and she recalled the brief night out she had shared with Khan in London, before their relationship took a physical turn.

"No way," she murmured.

"This is something I'd wanted to share with you, but the timing needed to be right," he said. "There's a crate in the corner missing two bottles. I checked as soon as I could. It was the first sign that told me something was wrong."

She peered up at him out of the corner of her eye. "You think Joaquin had something to do with that? It was one bottle of wine."

"I recognized the vintage almost immediately, but I didn't know what to make of it. All I knew was that someone knew more than they were supposed to. It was his way of letting me know he was watching, however anonymous he remained at the time."

"But you couldn't tell me that this two hundred year old wine was yours because you needed to hide your identity." Just the thought of it stung as badly as it had when she'd first learned the truth.

"For the sake of my crew, Madelyn. At the time, things were complicated. You know everything now."

Now, but it would have been nice to have known then. A whole lot of horrible things could've been avoided.

"How long did you know that it was Joaquin?"

"I didn't."

He sounded faintly desperate again, like he was grasping for her trust when he had nothing else to hold onto. He thinks you're all he has left, she reminded herself. Maybe he was better that way.

"He kept himself well hidden. If I had known, I would have acted much sooner than I did."

She nodded slowly. She understood perfectly. He would have acted the way he had regardless of Joaquin's unwanted presence in the background. There had been larger things at stake and Khan's methods had only involved violence. Even if she had known his true identity, she doubted she'd have been able to stop him.

She looked back down at the bottle in her hands. "How do you keep wine from going bad for this long? I imagine cool temperatures and high humidity can only get you so far."

He seemed faintly relieved to be changing the subject. "It's a very specific formula, requiring the utmost in precise fermentation processes." She let him take the bottle from her. "Shall we see if it is still good?"

"The bottle in London was still good."

She caught the tail end of his smile lines before they disappeared as he popped the cork with his bare hands. "Nonetheless. There are glasses in that box behind you."

Madelyn turned and lifted the dusty top of another wooden crate, revealing a set of plain wine glasses. As her fingers wrapped around the lips of two, she realized this was the first time she'd had a drink since before she knew she was pregnant. She gingerly lifted the glasses from their casings and handed one to Khan. He poured a little into his own and lifted it to his lips. Madelyn realized her jaw was tense and her lips pressed together out of a commitment to hold back her emotions. Not in front of him, dammit. She wasn't prepared for this.

"A day longer and this vintage would have been ruined." Khan's eyes scanned the room. "I'm afraid the rest of it will go to waste."

Madelyn was too busy swallowing through the lump in her throat to care, but her attention was stolen away when Khan's fingers wrapped around her own, clutching her glass.

"What is it?"

She blinked herself back to reality, wishing she could slide her hand out from his. That would only cause her to pull the glass out from under the neck of the angled bottle.

"I haven't had a drink in a while," she forced herself to say, her voice shuddering enough to make tears threaten to escape her eyes again. "I was pregnant."

Khan started to pull the bottle away. "Perhaps it would be better if—"

Madelyn reached out and snagged the bottle, her fingers overlapping his. "It's ok," she said, more to reassure herself than anything. "I could use a drink now."

It was with multiple conflicting feels that something in his face told her she'd just gained even more of his admiration. She tried not to think about it as she let him fill her glass halfway.

The first sip was heaven. She was no wine connoisseur, but she definitely tasted a hint of some unknown berry within the dry red flavor. It surprised her and reminded her all over again of that evening in London that had lasted for such a short amount of time. Khan seemed to be enjoying his glass as well, but when their eyes met, Madelyn glanced away quickly. Maybe this wasn't such a weird thing, though the idea of it struck her as absurd.

This was Khan Noonien Singh, and she was sharing a glass of wine with him. But no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that didn't matter, she kept falling back into her usual thought pattern. He's dangerous. He's a terrorist. He lied and manipulated his way into your bed. He only wanted you because you were part Augment. He impregnated you without your consent. His crew was always more important than you, if he ever cared for you at all. He's killed thousands of innocent peopl, and he wouldn't hesitate to do it all over again if given the means and motive. Why are you still here with him when you could be far away by now?

There was only one thing that had changed between now and the time she'd learned who he really was: the whereabouts of his crew.

He thought they were dead. If he knew they were alive, his goal would be to find them. Instead, he'd focused all of his attention on her. She was his priority now, he'd said. In his mind, she was probably the only thing that mattered. This thought both disturbed and reassured her. She'd seen a side of him she'd never thought could exist within an Augment, much less one as formidable as Khan. It made her feel special, but in a way that quickly churned her stomach because of his original intentions in pursuing her. She halted this train of thought in its tracks and turned down another road.

If she stuck with him, he would do everything to protect her while they both sought out Joaquin. She could do her best not to fall for him like she had last time: ignorant and running on hormones, and as long as she kept her knowledge of his crew's continued existence a secret, he would never let her fall by the wayside again. She didn't know where they were anyway. Only a select few within Starfleet knew, one of whom was Spock, and he would never divulge such sensitive information to anyone who didn't need to know.

She wasn't sure if she wanted Khan back, but she could easily keep him as long he thought she was the only person alive who mattered. And in that small deception lay her enormous advantage.

Madelyn finished her glass of wine and let him pour her a second. After a while she found herself sitting on the floor again, her back against the shelves of wine crates, her bare knees propping up her elbow as she ran her fingers along the rim of her glass. Khan sat across from her, his back against the wall, while he told her about the winery he once owned in India.

She didn't mind the way he looked at her, though she was grateful for the narrow floor space between them still. If she stretched out her leg, her boot could touch his. He seemed so tame here, lounging on the floor with a glass of wine in his hand. So much like John Harrison. She swallowed at the memories that name conjured up. How much of John had really been a fiction? How much of himself had Khan shown to her already?

What he was telling her now seemed so unimportant in the grand scheme, and yet there was something in his eye that took her back with him to a time when things had been a little more peaceful and a little less threatening… if being the reigning dictator of a quarter of the earth could be considered peaceful. But back then, there had been no Admiral Marcus's, there had been more than seventy two augments alive and none of them had been trapped in cryotubes. From Khan's perspective, life had never been worse after Marcus had woken him, until now.

"This war is almost over, Madelyn. After I find Joaquin and stop him, you'll need to decide what you're going to do. In the meantime, I don't want you out of my sight as long as he or Owen are at large."
"You mean you don't want me to leave this bunker without you." Madelyn swirled the remnants of her second glass of wine between her fingers. "I thought we'd talked about this. Whatever happened to "giving me a choice"?"

"What would you do in my place?" he countered. "If someone you loved was attacked, but their attacker got away without a trace, wouldn't you want to find whoever was responsible?"

Madelyn was silent for a moment, staring at him. Someone you loved.

"I don't know what I'd do," she said carefully. "If it were someone I loved, I'd allow them in on the decision. I wouldn't shut them out, and I certainly wouldn't hold them like a child."

Not that she was insinuating he was, but he'd shown in the past how easily he could manipulate her. Only this time, she was aware of his potential to lie.

"But what would you do?" he pressed.

He'd caught her there. She knew she had no choice but to give him the answer he was looking for.

"I'd do everything I could to protect them," she said. "But I wouldn't go so far that they hated me for what I did, no matter that it was all for them."

Khan shifted, the corner of mouth lifting in a faint smile. "Do you still hate me?"

It took her a minute to compose herself. She swallowed and struggled to meet his gaze. "No," she admitted.

He was still smiling, but so faintly that he could've been laughing at her instead. "What could I do to continue to avoid your well-earned hatred?"

She knew immediately. "Be open. Don't hide anything from me. Don't go behind my back, and don't pretend to know better than me."

"And what if in some cases I do know better than you?"

"Then just tell me, but don't be a dick about it."

He nodded, still wearing that faint smile she was quickly growing to wish she could slap off of his face. His gentle reactions to her biting responses never ceased to both surprise and infuriate her. When he leaned forward a little, she pressed her back up against the wall the best she could. He noticed.

"Madelyn, I've said this before and I will continue to say it: what I did to you, I regret wholeheartedly. But if you would have me, I will do everything I can to fix this."

She stared at him speechless for what felt like an eternity, backed against the wall with her fingers tightening around her almost empty wine glass. She wanted to ask him who he was and what he'd done with the real Khan. Maybe he'd seen the bewilderment on her face when he continued. "You don't have to say anything. I know this has been hard for you."

"Well, I don't know what to say anyway," she muttered, taking a last long sip of her wine before setting the glass down on the cold floor with a clink. "I'm having a hard time believing… all of this."

"I'm only asking you to trust me, and if you don't want to, you have always been free to go."

She understood completely now. This was his ultimatum. If she refused him at this point, she could leave and probably never see him again. He was leaving it all to her to decide, but he was showing her parts of himself he'd never shown to anyone, an enormous risk for someone in his situation. If she left, he might come after her, but only if she communicate clearly enough that she didn't want him back. At least they had enough of an understanding to the point that he would never do to her what he had done before.

But he didn't have to come after her at all if she didn't leave.

It wasn't because of what he'd said. Nothing he could say would ever change how she felt, but his behavior could, and so far his behavior was blowing her expectations apart.

Barely two days had passed since her miscarriage and in that time, she'd gone from absolutely hating him to wondering if there was perhaps a shred of humanity in him. That was progress.

Not to mention she couldn't deny her attraction to him was starting to return.

"I want to see this shuttle your repairing," she said finally.

Khan immediately rose to his feet and set his glass of wine carefully on a shelf above her. Then he reached down and offered her a hand, the second time that morning. "With pleasure."