Chapter 23 - Atonement

"I don't care what your excuse is. You're going back to get her, or I'll switch your injections with something that'll make your insides feel like they're being forced through a cheese grater. Do I make myself clear?"

From his position on a tree-sheltered ridge just north of the bunker's main entrance, Owen glared at the communicator in his hand. He'd just been told to do something that both disgusted and excited him. Joaquin and his people had already done so much for him, but he was becoming increasingly aware of how he was being used more than anything else.

"Yes, you've made yourself perfectly clear," he answered. "I'll find her."

"I've sent a map of the facility to your communicator. There should be an old ship somewhere inside you can take once you have her. She'll put up a fight, but do what you have to do."

The connection was cut.

Owen studied the blue holographic readout that spun in front of him, noting quickly what Joaquin had mentioned. Apparently, Khan had played a large role in the bunker's design, and as a result probably believed no one would ever find him or Madelyn as long as they stayed where they were.

Owen knew that what Joaquin really wanted was Khan. Rather, he wanted Khan dead, or at least out of the way, made into a non-threat, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen. He was going to use Khan's only weakness against him, and despite the ever-present feeling of being treated like a living, breathing commodity in this scenario, Owen knew he would come out of this with everything he wanted. He reminded himself that Joaquin had promised him Madelyn after all was said and done, along with continued injections to keep him in the superior physical state he was currently enjoying. He couldn't have asked for a better deal.

He just needed to get Madelyn back.

He'd managed to escape the bunker in the wake of Khan's violent entrance unnoticed. He'd considered going to Starfleet just to spite Joaquin, but he knew that would lose him points immediately and Madelyn would be taken from him again. She was his by the sheer amount of time he'd known her, which was far longer than Khan had. Owen knew she'd always had feelings for him that she tried to stifle every chance she got. He'd been there when she married Mark, and though at the time he hadn't had a problem with it, he'd still felt a sting. Mark had been too much of a nice guy, too much of a pushover, maybe even a little too soft. Madelyn had deserved better.

And then when she'd met Khan, knowing him then as John Harrison, well that really pissed him off. It was Khan's doing of course. That bastard was really good at getting what he wanted. As a result Madelyn had followed Khan's advice and completely turned against him. Owen had hoped that once she learned who Khan really was, she'd realize her mistake and turn to him for support. Instead, she'd gone off on him and hated the sight of him even more. Just thinking about her reaction made him angry. She needed to be a taught a lesson about who deserved her trust.

When he got her back again, he'd make sure she learned that lesson.

He shut his communicator and slid it into his trouser pocket. It would be dark soon, and he wasn't about to spend a third night out here in the cold woods. He cursed at Joaquin for making him wait that long to act, but at least now he had a goal. He made his way carefully down the ridge towards the bunker doors, reconsidered the action he was about to take, then shrugged and slammed his body into them, forcing them open. Any normal human would have broken their shoulder doing something like that, but he wasn't a normal human anymore.

The old shuttle was parked in the small hanger where Madelyn remembered fighting off Owen just two days earlier. In the doorway where she'd snagged a strip of metal and jammed it into Owen's shoulder, Khan now waited for her with his arms crossed, looking slightly more pleased with himself than she thought necessary.

"Is this thing even going to fly?" she tossed casually into the silence that made the gap between them seem wider. She eyed the dingy metallic walls of the craft, an echo of a time when space travel was considered much more dangerous than it was now.

"Yes, it will," he answered before turning his back and going inside. Madelyn went up the ramp and followed him. "The warp drive casing is almost set. I'll just need to make some adjustments and run a few tests before I can be sure it will operate safely."

She quickly scoped out the ship's small interior. To her left was the cockpit, containing two seats amidst a complicated console that looked like it belonged in a museum. Actually, the entire shuttle might as well have been on display in the Smithsonian. The floor creaked slightly as she walked across it towards the back, where a locked hatch had the word "airlock" stenciled across it in red. If she turned to the right, she could touch the frame on a set of bunk beds welded into the wall, and if she turned to the left she was faced with another wall of complicated switches and buttons with labels for computer commands that were now obsolete in the 23rd century.

She turned back towards the cockpit where Khan had settled into the pilot's seat and was adjusting settings on the control panel. He looked so at home here, on this old ship full of old technology. The floor creaked under her and he instantly turned.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think I'd much rather have someone like you at the controls of this old rust bucket than someone from Starfleet who has no idea what they're doing."

Khan turned his gaze back to the shuttle's control panel. "This ship is over two hundred fifty years old. The only reason it hasn't fallen completely apart is because it's been preserved in this hangar untouched until now. Twentieth century technology may seem backwards to you, but it was nothing short of well-made."

It bothered her the way he'd suddenly decided not to look at her as he spoke. "I never said it was backwards," she said, heading towards the cockpit carefully so as not to seem overly defensive. "It's just… old. How do you know this thing won't fall apart the moment it hits warp?"

He turned in his seat to look up at her and she wished suddenly she hadn't gotten so close. "I've done everything possible to ensure that won't happen. If you're really so worried about it, perhaps you should join me for a test flight tomorrow morning."

She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets and turned away slightly. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in even closer quarters with him than she already was. And maybe if the flight went well, he'd decide not to come back for her, and she'd be all the better for that. She wasn't sure she cared.

"It's fine. I'm sure you've done everything you can."

She offered him a faint smile then turned to escape from the shuttle.

"I'm doing this for both of us," he said behind her.

She stopped. She didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. Everything she might say he'd only counter. But a lot could be said with a look. Her hands still in her pockets, she met his gaze briefly with another closed off smile, then turned and went down the shuttle's ramp.

She was so confused. She felt like she was stuck in a whirlpool, drowning her in conflicting thoughts that either made her want him or want nothing to do with him. He'd shown so much of himself to her already, she felt selfish for not returning the favor. But at the same time she knew she had no obligation towards him, and he'd made it clear that wasn't what he wanted either. He wanted her for who she was, not what she could give him. She realized her frustration lay in the very choice he was presenting her, and that choice would need to be made in a couple days, before the shuttle was ready to fly.

It was all happening so fast, but she knew Khan needed to act quickly if he was to get away from anyone on Earth who was looking for him. He still had the advantage for the moment, but the longer he lingered here the easier it would be for Starfleet or the Federation to discover his location in the bunker. Not to mention Owen was still out there somewhere. He had probably gone to Starfleet in his anger at what she had done to him. He would probably try to have Khan killed. The thought of someone coming for Khan with kill orders made a knot tighten in her stomach.

She stopped in her tracks in the center of the corridor.

This was happening way too fast.

So maybe she had feelings for him, but this was the first time she felt ready to acknowledge it. That didn't make it right, or make her feel any better about it. She would need another day at least. She needed to sleep on it, dig into her motives, figure out why the hell she'd gone from hating him to probably actually wanting him back in just a matter of days. And he had hardly done anything to persuade her one way or the other, except to apologize and to try his best to make things right without being obviously manipulative or otherwise obsessive. That was what bothered her the most.

Khan had done everything within his power to help her, to protect her, and once she was safe, he'd given her space and allowed her to have the say in what happened next. It was as though what he wanted wasn't as important now. As long as he thought his crew was gone, and she was all he had, maybe that was the way it would be. It seemed ideal, even if it meant she'd have to keep the truth from him. It was better than being held practically captive by him merely because of her lineage, while he fawned over a whole family of pure Augments.

She heard boot steps down the corridor behind her and snapped back to the present moment. She couldn't let him catch her in this state. She pulled her sweater more tightly around herself and hurried to the storage room where she knew she could find another meal. She was suddenly starving and slightly dizzy and probably shouldn't have been walking around like she was. Her body had expelled most of the dead tissue, but there was still healing that needed to occur, and she needed to take it easier on herself because of it. It was enough when she carried conflicting emotions about a man she had tried so hard to hate with everything she had.

She snagged some food from storage and ate it as she paced back and forth across the room, silently debating everything going through her mind until finally she came to a decision.

She would tell him, but she wouldn't take it further. She wasn't ready for that yet. She knew he wanted her answer sooner than later. She felt no obligation to do this, but for her own sanity she knew this would be better than stepping out alone, especially knowing Owen was still out there somewhere.

Despite her every inclination, she knew she'd be safer with Khan than she would be without him.

She slid back into bed early that evening, if it could be considered evening. She still hadn't gotten a chance to peek her head outside to see what time it actually was. She made a mental note to find a door or a window in the facility tomorrow, before her sanity began to be tested. She was more tired than usual, but had less pain than the previous day considering she was no longer running on pain meds.

In the morning, she would tell him.

She woke later after having slept so hard she felt as though she hadn't slept at all. The only difference she felt was a clearer view of what she would tell Khan. She climbed slowly from bed, gritting her teeth through a pounding headache, but managed to get through a shower and dress without feeling like she might pass out. After a quick breakfast of yet another MRE—she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand to eat these ancient pre-packaged things that were mysteriously still edible after they'd been stored down here for who-knew-how-long—she resolved that it was time to seek him out.

Her anxiety thickened with every step she took down the corridor. What if he took her answer as a green light to take what he'd always wanted from her in the beginning? He could easily turn the tables on her without warning. How could she trust him? What could she do to prevent it?

Could she prevent it at all?

As she approached the hangar, the sounds of clattering metal tore her from her thoughts. He was still working, and as she entered the hangar she saw he was wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. Had it been yesterday? She wasn't even sure if she was sleeping through the day or he was working through the night.

His back was turned to her as he worked on the outside hull of the shuttle, but he'd know she was there before he looked. Her boots tapped and echoed on the concrete floor as she slowed her pace. Maybe all her worries were grounded in false beliefs about him. He'd repeatedly stated that he'd made mistakes, that he was sorry for them, that he would never use her that way again. Maybe he really had changed, and she was the one paranoid about keeping a secret.

Madelyn steeled herself when he turned and saw her. "You didn't sleep long," he said, wiping his hands on the gray t-shirt he wore that hugged every curve of his torso unfortunately well. He seemed to look her over with care before moving towards her. "Its almost three a.m. Are you alright?"

She stopped in her tracks, but for some reason felt inclined not to back away. She would have backed away yesterday. "I don't have a clock or a PADD or even a window so it's hard to tell when its time to sleep or wake or do anything remotely normal," she explained.

Khan nodded as though he'd already considered this. "We won't be here for much longer. Should you decide to join me when I leave, your body will be able to return to a normal biological schedule." He continued to approach her and she fought the compulsion to back away a few paces just to give herself space. Before she knew it, she was actually looking up at him. She could have easily reached her hand out to touch his arm but she didn't. "You look well," he continued. "Better than yesterday. There's color in your cheeks again."

She bit the inside of her lip as more color flooded her cheeks than she liked. Maybe this was a mistake. "How did you know what time it was?" she pressed, glancing curiously around the room for a clock on the wall.

He motioned towards the shuttle behind him. "The control panel. It's complete and ready for use. I'm upgrading the hull now to prepare it to take on warp speeds."

Madelyn nodded, the knowledge really sinking in now that this ship was going to be ready to fly very soon. "You really don't sleep much, do you? You never really did." She recalled their time spent together in London, when he would only sleep beside her after a long, vigorous night. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from turning a brighter shade of red than she apparently already was. The last thing she needed was to give him ideas.

"My body requires little sleep when I'm as inactive as I've been these last few days. You on the other hand—"

"I've had a lot on my mind," she interrupted. "As you might imagine." She hoped he wasn't really this thick. Every time she spoke to him, she saw something new and surprising and so far he had yet to let her down.

"I can imagine," he replied, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

She pulled her sweater more tightly around herself before she spoke. "I guess I wanted to thank you for showing me what you did yesterday. It was . . . surprising."

A faint smirk graced his lips and lit up his blue eyes. "The homicidal tyrant can't own a vineyard?"

The way he casually threw her own description of him back at her made her grimace. "I just meant that it surprised me because you were willing to show me a part of yourself I doubt you've shared with many people."

"You're right. The ones who knew are gone now."

"Except for Joaquin."

Khan's features hardened at her mention of the name. "Yes."

If his crew were those who would know this about him, and he had shared it with her, then did that make her—

"I shared it with you because it was once important to me," he continued. "It symbolized so much of what I fought for, before Starfleet took it from me. I find myself left with no one but you, and the friend I once had who's since betrayed me. I felt I had no choice. This is what I need you to understand, Madelyn. I need you because you're all I have left. Without you, I have nothing, and you have every right to leave me with nothing if you choose."

She felt her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She wanted to tell him that maybe they needed each other, but she was too afraid to admit it. Instead, her hand drifted to her stomach, almost completely flat now and returned to its non-pregnant size. Khan's eyes followed it and she moved it away upon realizing what she'd done. A lump formed in her throat.

What she couldn't say out loud was that more than she needed him, she was starting to want him. But she couldn't say that. Not yet. Not when she knew he could crush a man's skull between his bare hands, the same hands that had once touched every inch of her. The same hands that were now cupping her face until their fingertips brushed her hair. She could hardly breathe.

"It doesn't matter what you think you need, or what I need," he said. It was as though he'd read her mind, but probably just the expressions on her face she'd given up trying to hide from him. "What matters now is what you want."

She couldn't help it when her eyes flitted to his lips, shaped in that perfect cupid's bow that made her feel even more desperate. No, it was too soon. God, she felt like a hormonal teenager, but the way his hands were almost pulling her face up so she was forced to stand on her toes made her forget her need to be careful.

"I want to stop playing games," she murmured.

The corner of his mouth lifted into a subdued smile. "You're the only one playing games, Madelyn."

For a second, she thought that maybe he did know about his crew, but his demeanor didn't change nor did his grip around her tighten or alarm her or make any threatening motion. Instead, before she could properly react, he tilted her jaw up just a little more, and then he kissed her.

She caught sight of his prominent jawline as their lips met. A faint sense of déjà vu swept over her, as though this was like the first time they'd kissed in her London flat. Only now she knew everything about him, and this time she was the one with the secret.

He tasted faintly like his own burgundy vintage, sweetened with something else she wasn't sure of. Vanilla? She almost laughed into his mouth. Vanilla mint. He'd gone and cleaned out his mouth, probably in anticipation of just such a kiss as this. He deepened it and she sucked in his hot breath, getting a whiff of something metallic like the shuttle. It clung to his shirt but was quickly overpowered by sweet mint and dry wine. She barely noticed when his hands slid from her jaw and up into her hair. Still balancing on her toes, she grabbed for his shirt. As soon as she did her lips met open air.

Madelyn tried to catch her breath as their noses brushed, and for just a second she forgot everything awful that he had ever done.

"Is this what you want?" he murmured, so low in his chest she could feel it in her hands. His hands slid down from her face and gently took her shoulders. Her heart was going at a thousand miles an hour. She slowly unclenched her fingers from his shirt.

"Maybe it's not so bad," she replied, letting herself smile a little.

Khan waited barely a moment before he crushed his lips against hers again, taking his hands from her shoulders and sliding one down to the small of her back, the other tangling in her hair. She'd barely recovered from his first kiss and gasped for air between his lips, noticing the way she was slowly being backed towards the hangar wall. She let him take her mouth again, until she bumped against the wall, saved only by the arm encircling her, then she broke the kiss and nuzzled her face against his neck.

She was absolutely breathless, speechless, and completely in shock. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I'm sorry for everything I did to you."

She was so close to him and yet she felt so safe. She wanted to tell him she forgave him, that she would give him another chance to try again, that she was willing to forget about his lies and ulterior motives and selfish ambitions that had led them both to destruction. She let go of his shirt and circled her arms around his neck before planting a few soft kisses along the warm exposed skin above his shirt collar. She was quickly met with his lips again, each increasingly heated stroke sucking the air from her lungs, proving to her that he wanted all these things as well. He'd already bared so much of himself to her. She could never idly throw all of that away.

As his hands began to wander, her need for more began to grow, but it was quickly halted by a more immediate need for physical healing and rest. When his fingers slipped down her waist and inside the tops of her shorts, she tore her lips away and put a hand on top of his. His breaths were fiery hot on her face and she almost caved at the sheer desire she saw in his eyes. Then she remembered how she'd almost lost herself to his wiles before and began to try and explain. His finger on her lips halted her words.

"I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you."

She smiled, but so faintly she wasn't sure he noticed. Everything that had just happened had been perfect. She was too overcome to even thank him for not trying to pressure her. She still wasn't convinced that this was Khan, or that she wasn't dreaming. But she knew she wasn't yet ready to become completely physical with him again. Not so soon after the miscarriage. Not so soon after gaining back the most trust in him she'd had in over a month.

She let him kiss her again, more gently this time, more concerned than excited. His hands slid firmly around her waist and stayed there even when she chose not to kiss him any longer. Then they merely stood there, Madelyn leaning back against the wall, pressed against his chest with her arms around his neck. She shut her eyes just to focus on his breathing, his heartbeat, his presence around her, warm and secure as though he had never done a bad thing ever in his life. But she knew better and would be sure to never forget as long as she was with him. Still, he whispered in her ear and she wanted to believe all of it.

"Everything I've promised you will never change. Anything you ask of me, I will do my best to give you. I am yours, Madelyn McGivers."

The way he said her full name gave her a chill. The good kind of chill that accompanies the sensation of hearing incredible music for the first time in your life. Her eyes stung so she clenched them tight as she pressed her forehead against his neck again, her fingers clutching at him for no other reason than to prove to herself what she was beginning to understand as she stood cocooned between his warmth and the cool hangar wall.

Khan Noonien Singh was hers. All she had to do was keep one secret.