Hey guys! Please don't shoot me, though I deserve it. Some ill-timed writer's block is to blame for the long wait. I have no excuse. So I'm planning on using this year's Nanowrimo to help me along (yes I know that's cheating. I beat Nanowrimo by 2 days and 50 words last year so suck on that)

Lots of love to Cookie655, Sulia Serafine, AnaBella1969, All-I-need, Poodle warriors, peerme, Benedict'sZombieGirl, americanlatinajapanesegirl, dancinwmypinkipod, Vintagegirl1912, and CLTex for your reviews, but also to Yasmin, Ella, and Michelle for sending me headcanons and music for keeping my inspirations fresh and also Maria for your often hilarious reactions and just general fabulousness. I love all my tumblr friends who put up with my blog and my rantings. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

Okay enough talk. On with the story!

Chapter 31 – Unfold

The fourth night onboard the Winter Tempest was the night Madelyn's mind caught up with her body. She woke up in a panic twice, both times hit in the face with reality at a dizzying velocity: that what she had dreamed could have been real, had things occurred differently.

The first time she woke, she attributed it to the overall course of events that had led her here, a frighteningly quick descent that had embedded itself into her subconscious. Perhaps it was only revealing its revolting head now because she had finally come into peace and safety, because she was finally starting to look back at what had happened to her and meet it in the eye.

She'd dreamt of falling through the sky, held tightly between Joaquin and Khan, who stared her down like hungry predators. It was only when the ground rushed up to meet them that she lurched awake, both men fading into the dark of her mind and leaving a horrifying feeling in their wake. What disturbed her most was that Joaquin's intentions had been to use her, but Khan's had been ambiguous, potentially fatal but at odds with Joaquin's. Not necessarily in favor of her either.

But she knew reality, like she knew the Earth was round. Khan had killed Joaquin to save them both, but the fact that she had dreamed he might have killed her rather than leave her to Joaquin's mercy… well that made her pull her blanket more tightly around herself, until she sank back into the warm, forgetfulness of sleep again.

The second time she woke, she was shaking and sweaty. Owen had his hands around her throat and was pressing himself dangerously close to her, prepared to violate her space, and there was nothing she could do because he was so strong. He overwhelmed her until she couldn't breathe, until she felt her life slipping away.

She sat up, breathing hard with her heart pounding in her ears, and slid her hand across her neck to make sure everything was intact. Of course it was still intact. But it had felt so concrete, so tangible.

And then it hit her like an oncoming tidal wave.

In her dream, Owen had been strangling her with an elastic bandage, the same one she'd used on him. She could still feel it in her hands if she thought about it, pulling until his face turned purple, until his throat was crushed. She could still feel his weight as he sank lifeless against her. She couldn't shake it off, even as she lay back again, staring up into the cold dark, her heart pounding in her chest. She just couldn't shake what she had done.

The more she thought about it, the less she felt able to fall asleep again.

She didn't know how long she laid there in the dark, wrapped tightly in a blanket, her legs pulled up to her chest. Every now and then the ship creaked and groaned, its rocking motion serving as a gentle reminder that she was a lot safer than she'd dreamt she was. But the dark was becoming too much.

She slid out of bed and pulled on her coat and boots. It was freezing outside, but at least the ship's lights provided her with sight, glistening off white caps and illuminating the ice on deck. She breathed in the chilly air. It felt good to be reminded of what was real and what wasn't, reality being not so unpleasant, but rather unfortunate: that she was stuck on a crab boat for three more days with a handful of fishermen and women in the middle of the Bering Sea, with Khan.

She knew he had no ill intentions towards her anymore. He'd made that clear enough, but she hadn't spoken to him in over a day. He'd kept himself occupied by assisting the crew in moving metal crab cages into place so they could be stored for the journey back to port. She'd watched him for a little, curious at first because something had seemed off about his movements. Initially she'd chalked it up to his injuries, but then she realized it was the exact opposite. He wasn't trying very hard at all. Those crab cages probably weighed upwards of five hundred pounds or more, and yet his expression was nonchalant, almost bored, as he helped guide one into its resting place.

Of course. If Khan was formulating a plan to somehow find his crew, then he couldn't afford to reveal his identity anymore, especially not here. So working like this was his way of killing time.

After their first conversation, she could admit that she felt a little more at peace. Not only about where she stood with him, but about what he had done. She'd allowed herself to dwell on what he'd said, on why he'd been unable to stop Joaquin from killing Kelly. It made sense if she considered that she was the one who had truly mattered to him, and when he had walked into that control room in the Io Facility, he hadn't expected to see Kelly there either. But he had done such a good job of disguising everything that she found it difficult to continue looking at him the same. She could only go by what he said, and by what he had done on the shuttle.

And that was what really struck her.

Someone Khan had once considered his closest friend and advisor had betrayed him. He had murdered him for what he'd done, and to stop him from doing anything else. Then she had saved him, and not because she'd forgiven him. Everything had happened so quickly, she'd barely had time to process her complicated feelings.

Maybe she had saved him because she'd needed him to live.

Joaquin's fingerprints had been all over her grandfather's murder. She'd watched Owen's life slip away by her hand, ultimately forced because of Joaquin's influence; and she'd watched helplessly as Joaquin had stolen Kelly from her.

She couldn't let him be the cause of yet another death posthumously. Even if it was Khan's.

But maybe she did need him, in the sense that she needed companionship, in the sense that they had a bond. They'd survived a traumatic experience together and she couldn't ignore that. She could see it on his face. He blamed himself and he wanted to make amends because he felt bad.

Khan Noonien Singh felt bad and it was because of what he'd allowed to happen to her even after she'd forgiven him for his original wrongdoings, actions that seemed so far-gone in the past she barely dwelled on them anymore. The scars were still there and would be there for a while, but there were more important things to think about right now.

She couldn't shake his behavior on the Io station. She couldn't shake what he had said, what he had threatened to do if she didn't cooperate. All because Joaquin had gotten his feelers in Khan's brain and heart and convinced him she was keeping more than just the fact of his crew's existence from him. Maybe he had recognized how toxic Joaquin's influence had become in that short amount of time, but she could only speculate. He'd mentioned Kati again, how she'd told him everything, but what did that even mean? Kati was one of them. And Khan had seemed rather fond of her.

She didn't know if he would ever realize how much he'd hurt her. Not just from the beginning, when he was John Harrison and their relationship had occupied a physical space of dark rooms and sweaty sheets. Not just when his deception was revealed and she'd learned his true identity alongside his intentions for her. Not just when she realized the extent to which he had already used her. No, that was a different kind of hurt. That was a pain she could escape with time. It wasn't personal, so much as it made her purely a victim, an identity that would eventually wear away with life.

And she was starting to move past it. He had opened himself up to her in the bunker in California. Losing the baby had changed something. Maybe it had helped him move on from what he'd done. She regretted that it had come to that in her head, but the child would have represented something about him that she'd been willing to forgive even if he regretted it.

But now that was all gone. Their newfound trust, even her once fresh desire to be with him again. It had all been replaced by something more potent, more real, maybe even more dangerous, and she wasn't ready for it. What he had done to her on the Io station had been very personal. No matter what he said to her now, or how much he wanted her to try, he couldn't be trifled with and she wouldn't put herself through that a third time. All she would do for now was continue talking to him, feel out where he was, try to mend fences without putting herself out there for him to take again, and wait for the week to come to a close.

As she came to the railing in the dark, she glanced over the side at the roiling, white water below. The ups and downs of the waves didn't bother her anymore. They had earlier. Now it was only natural, as natural as Khan's ability to slip into any environment in order to survive. She knew she was smiling and bit down on her lower lip to restrain it, regardless of the fact that no one knew she was out here. She'd liked watching him work. She could barely admit it to herself. The way his shoulders moved beneath his coat, his long, bare fingers gripping frozen metal with discomfort—She stopped herself. Thinking about him this way was dangerous.

"Having trouble sleeping?"

She should have known. She turned to face him as he crossed the deck towards her, bundled in his long coat down to his knees. Like he'd been expecting this.

She shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "What about you?"

"I've been up in the wheelhouse with Captain Sal. He makes surprisingly interesting conversation, for a crab boat captain."

She berated herself for not considering the fact that Khan rarely slept when he didn't need to. Of course he'd be up and around, making strategic moves in the best way he knew how.

"So what were you talking about?"

"Primarily aspects of engineering and the economic logistics of scraping a living out of the sea in a profession that should have died out decades ago. He's carrying on his family's legacy."

She caught the shift in his countenance as he spoke and instantly knew what was really on his mind. There were few ways he could accomplish it too. She almost didn't want to broach the subject, but if she didn't, his actions would eventually force her to. "Look, if you're thinking of taking this ship, don't. We're just a few days away from port. You can figure something out then." She pulled a lock of hair from her mouth blown by the wind. A faint smirk played at the corner of his lips.

"You know me well."

She sighed, shaking her head. "You're not as unpredictable as you like to think you are."

"I should find it surprising that your words carry weight."

She held his gaze for what felt like an eternity. He was a storm and she was trying her best not to be impressed by his thunder. She knew the moment she got too close, she'd be struck by lightning and never be the same again.

Then again, maybe she'd already been struck.

She caught herself again. She needed to be honest with him, up to a point. "I'm not letting you hurt anyone else. You can find another way."

The silence that hung between them was penetrated by the wind and the waves and the ship's creaking. She wondered if he felt as uncomfortable in it as she did. Then the ship careened over an unusually large swell and she had to take her hands from her pockets to steady herself on the railing. She lurched back instantly at the stinging cold, and the next thing she knew his hands were on hers.

"You need gloves," he said, turning one of them over to inspect it, his fingertips pressing into her palm.

"I'm fine," she replied, pulling her hand away and shoving it back inside her coat pocket. She clenched and unclenched her fingers. His touch had been warmer than the linings of her pockets. She hoped he didn't see her moment of weakness and shifted on her feet, trying to come up with an excuse to get away from him before he thought of something important to talk about.

"What brought you out here tonight? You look tired."

Nevermind that. "I wasn't sleeping well." That was a lie. She'd been sleeping great, until those dreams.

"Tell me what's bothering you."

She sighed. "You know what's bothering me. You know everything."

"No, I don't," he replied quietly. She didn't get a chance to back away before he'd grabbed her arm. "Tell me what happened to Owen."

She knew her face dropped. He was so quick to catch onto things and she hated it. She could never hide anything from him for long—

He tilted his chin down slightly, as though that'd make him less intimidating. "You can tell me what happened, Madelyn," he coaxed.

"I really don't want to."

"I know what Joaquin was doing to him," he pressed, raising his voice for emphasis. "Do you think anyone else will believe you if you try and explain? To anyone who wasn't aware of his patterns of instability and obsession, you murdered him for no apparent reason, and that will most certainly never stand up in a court room."

The accusation, however truthful, burned. She lifted her chin indignantly. "It's not going to come to that. And I know what I did, and so do you. A moment ago you were offering to listen. Don't try to manipulate me now."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you."

"Yeah?" Her voice was rising to indignant levels. "I mean why break the pattern of behavior you've exhibited with me since we met?"

"I am trying to help you. There are few who would, and they more than likely believe you dead."

At the core of his words, she knew he was right. Starfleet had probably attempted to track their shuttle upon leaving the Io station, but once they'd begun their descent to Earth, there was no telling who had been watching. It had only been by sheer luck that they'd landed in the vicinity of a fishing boat with a crew willing to help them.

She shifted again as the boat rocked between swells. Khan's grip on her arm kept her steady and she resented it. "I'm having a hard time believing you want to help me," she said more calmly, meeting his gaze through the dim light, "since everything you've done up until this point has been for yourself or your crew."

There. She'd hit a nerve. His gaze faltered briefly and he might have looked ashamed if he'd let down his guard long enough. When he met her eyes again, it was with a wrinkled brow and a firm jaw. "You are of equal importance to my crew, which is why I will not attempt to take control of this vessel in respect of your wishes. The chances of such an action yielding anything useful to me are quite low, as I have already made unsuccessful attempts at contacting Kati and the others using obsolete technology. And I recognize that such an action might only push you further from me, which I have no desire to do again. Therefore it would be far more prudent for us both to wait until we reach land to come to any formal decisions."

Madelyn felt her resolve slipping. She almost couldn't believe him.

Almost.

She didn't want to give in. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right, which he very clearly was.

"But this right here is the problem. You'll say anything to get what you want." His fingers tightened around her arm and she instantly pulled herself from his grip. She kept talking before he could respond. "All I'm saying is that no matter what you say, it's going to be hard for me to believe you. I let you in last time and you burned everything to the ground—"

"Because you lied to me and because I was manipulated into turning on you."

"So you're saying you didn't know any better." The idea sounded ridiculous coming out of her own mouth. "You've got to be kidding me. You! Of all people—"

"I was more interested in this new piece of information I was told you'd kept from me," he replied, taking a careful step towards her. "Should I have responded with apathy?"

The intensity of his voice made her back away. "That's not what I meant—"

"What would you have done if someone whom you trusted and cared for lied about the very existence of your entire family?"

She held onto the railing to steady herself as she looked up at him. He'd managed to take over her space again and his keen gaze made her feel small. It took her a moment to realize.

"We've already had this discussion," she said quietly.

"I wanted you to realize the gravity of your decision." He spoke with a cool, calm demeanor, but that did nothing to take the edge away. "It affected me deeply, Madelyn. I was forced to question everything."

She had to respond before she thought better of it. "Now you can understand a little of how I felt. What you did to me—

"It was selfish, I admit that."

"Don't think you'll ever fully understand."

"I can't pretend to understand what it's like to be pregnant against my will."

She shook her head slowly, staring up at him like he was a small child, despite his height. She almost scoffed. "It's so much more complicated than that."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked in a voice just as quiet as hers.

Madelyn pressed her lips together and pulled her arms across her chest, hugging herself inside her coat. Pale light was beginning to paint the sky and the sea a dull shade of gray in the distance. "Like you said, I think it'd be better for us both to wait. I know I need time…" She trailed off as her mind lingered on the events that had brought them here. She couldn't even begin to process it with him standing in front of her like this. Especially not when his hand came up and took her jaw and lifted it so she had to look up at him again. She instantly reached up and pulled it away, not breaking his gaze. "Don't do that."

His jaw clenched and his fingers—now at his side—rubbed together restlessly.

"I need space too," she continued, as though nothing had happened. She couldn't say anything else, because anything else would give her away. When it happened, he'd understand why she did it, but for now he couldn't know. He would probably try to take the ship if he knew. "I need to go home. I haven't been home in months," she realized.

"London?"

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Hastings. That was where she'd go.

At any other time, or in any other context, Khan probably wouldn't have let her refusal to give him a clear answer slide. But they were both in limbo as long as they were on this ship.

"I'm holding you to what you said," she continued. "You're a decent enough man for that."

"Decent?" he replied, his voice laced with amusement. "Such pitiful standards, Madelyn."

She couldn't help but crack a faint smile. "I've learned to lower my expectations."

"You shouldn't."

She gazed at him, noting the crinkle on the bridge of his nose again. The sight of it tightly wrung something inside her and she tore her eyes away to the sea.

"Tell me about Owen," he said again.

She still couldn't escape the power behind his voice.

"It will do you no good to dwell on it without speaking of it to anyone. You may as well speak to me."

She swallowed through the dry lump in her throat and nodded, not looking at him. "Alright." She reached out to hold onto the railing again, suddenly not caring how cold it was beneath her bare fingers. She let the cold seep through her, until she couldn't feel it at all. And then she told him everything.

Three days passed more quickly than Khan had anticipated, given how dull life onboard this ship had become in such a short amount of time, and not to mention Madelyn's disenchanting behavior. He'd hoped she'd want to spend more time with him, rather than being intentionally distant and cool. It took all his willpower to allow her that distance, but at least she'd respectfully made her intentions known. Maintaining this mutual agreement would have to be enough for now.

Despite the constraint of the vessel, with its decrepit technology and blue-collar crew continuing to eye him suspiciously at every turn, he could admit that it was good to breathe new air. It burned cold in his lungs and clean on his face, a considerable change from the deadness of space or the sterile working environments of Starfleet's various labs. It had been a long time since he'd been out on the ocean. Granted he had no control of the boat, but as Madelyn had proved to him, he hadn't been in control of many things lately. That would soon change.

When the Aleutian coastline appeared on the horizon that clear Saturday afternoon. He felt something wake up inside him, a reminder of what still needed to be done.

The moment he set foot onshore, he would be free. He would find his sister and the others who were awake and missing, and then together they would find a way to free his crew from Starfleet. His only hesitation was the thought of Madelyn's reaction. He would need her on his side. He would need her as a liaison to Starfleet.

Perhaps there didn't need to be many deaths.

Still, he couldn't afford to waste an opportunity. He would get them back, whether she was with him or not. It was only a matter of time—and some well-placed phaser fire.

He felt his own hands tightening around the railing where he stood in the bow of the ship. According to the captain, they would make port within the hour. He was getting restless, frustrated with the time that had already been wasted on this ship, until he reminded himself that this time had been precious. Perhaps for himself, so he could gather his thoughts and pinpoint his next move, but more importantly, for Madelyn.

If he was honest with himself, however, it had been precious for them both.

With every opportunity to be near her that he'd received over the last three days, he'd been careful. Her previous animosity and distrust were gone, but that didn't change the fact of the very clear space she'd set between them. It was space that she allowed him to test every now and then, but only marginally with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder, or a hand on her back, always far from actual contact because of her heavy coat. There was no room for intimacy in a mind that was fully occupied with the events of the week before, where he himself had taken the place of the villain at least once. There would be no room open to him for a long time.

So when she did bother to look at him, to regard him thoughtfully in between work shifts, or even smile faintly in the morning light while she lingered over coffee that he had provided before she could beat him to it… those were moments he soaked in like a sponge.

But there was still so much left to do, so much ground to cover and conquer, so much to accomplish. As for Madelyn, she'd already proven she would never be conquered, and he respected her wishes wholeheartedly. He would give her time and space, as she had mentioned, but he would not forget her. And he would never be satisfied until she finally let him in again.

It pained him to think that his restlessness would probably be more easily sated by reclaiming his crew. All of them. Otto, Aidan, and Suzette could then be dealt with accordingly. He trusted Cecelia and Kati. The rest would be awoken when the time and place was right. Madelyn…

He'd dreamt of her last night, of the ways he wanted to be with her. They would be different, slower, more in tune. Almost as if the universe was laughing at him, he heard her walking up behind him before she probably realized it. He ground his teeth, cursing at himself for lingering on things he couldn't just take whenever he wanted anymore.

Four days on the ocean had lent her a faintly salty scent and he breathed it off the wind that rushed around them. It was the closest she allowed him to get, and it drove him mad. She seemed to sense the tension and shoved her hands into the pockets of her faded blue coat, leaning up against the railing nearby, leaving a few feet of space between them. Stray hairs danced out of her ponytail and her cheeks and nose were faintly red from the cold, dry air.

The sheer glint of change in her light eyes drew him in and he tightened his hand around the cold railing to ground himself. One swift step and he could smother her chapped lips with a desperate kiss. But he was better than that. He'd always been better.

Those lips curled up into a half smile. Either she knew, or she was merely pleased to see him. He hoped for the latter, for her own sake.

"I wanted to tell you that this week has been really good for me," Madelyn said. "Thanks for not… trying to get in the way of that."

He tilted his chin in affirmation. "I'm glad. You look well today," he added.

She shifted against the railing, raising her face to gaze up at him more fully, her solemn expression hiding her reaction. "What are you going to do now?"

"You told me you'd prefer it if I didn't involve you," he replied, recalling a comment she'd made a day prior, when she'd walked in on one of his many attempts to contact Kati from the ship's wheelhouse. "Do you wish to know anyway?"

Her gaze faltered and she glanced towards the approaching shore. Several docked fishing vessels with names emblazoned on their hulls could be easily distinguished now. A flock of squawking gulls soared overhead.

"No, let's stick to our agreement," she said quietly. "I like not knowing. It makes me feel like I'm not involved."

Khan clenched the railing until it creaked under his grip. "Even if I told you my plans, I would not involve you unless you wished."

The look she gave him was quiet and calm, a whisper of a grateful smile, eyes meeting his briefly before looking away again. "Like I said, I don't want to know."

"Hastings, then?" he prodded, quickly changing the subject.

"Yep."

"Will you be alone?"

The look she shot at him this time was suspicious.

"You know what I mean."

She sighed and shrugged. "It'll be whatever I make it. I'll try to find a job and make something of myself."

"Will anyone hire you?" The question came out blunt, but he recalled her anger with him, with what had happened to her career because of him.

She opened her mouth to answer him, but Sal had poked his head out of the wheelhouse above. "Marla! You've got a call."

Khan tried to seek out her gaze before she whirled away. There was something strange in her actions, something nervous in the way she moved. Anger seeped into the back of his mind, but he smothered it with reminders of what he wanted for her—which was everything that she wanted.

Still, she hadn't mentioned anything about trying to contact anyone. He would let his suspicion linger, but they were so close to shore it would soon matter little. They would be far away from each other and he would be able to act on his own.

She came down again a few minutes later, quiet and composed as ever. There was tension on her face. "Kelly's parents," she mumbled.

Regret swept over him like a tidal wave and he let it pull his suspicions out to sea. He stepped closer to her and put an obligatory hand on her shoulder, huddled beneath her heavy clothing. She sniffed and rubbed her nose, then ducked her hand back into her pocket.

"I can't tell them the truth because they'll hate me, but I can't act like I'm not responsible."

"What have you told them?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing yet. Nothing important anyway."

She was lying, but he couldn't decipher why. "I assume you'll be going to see them."

Her affirmative answer was quiet. She was distracted and in another place. He needed her here before he lost her completely. He slid his hand from her shoulder and down her arm and slowly wrapped it around her elbow so he could gently angle her towards him. Her expression didn't change, but her gaze grew more focused.

"Something is bothering you fiercely," he said.

Her lips parted and her brow tightened. Then she shrugged, masking the momentary lapse in her restraint. "I'm fine. Just cold."

"No. You're lying again."

Her tension grew as she glanced at him in between scanning the approaching dockside. He tightened his hold on her.

"We've already lied to each other enough, Madelyn."

The warning tone in his voice could barely hide his growing anger. If he could just get her to admit that she was wrong again, if he could just get her to tell him—

"Khan, stop!" Madelyn yanked herself out of his hold and the red in his vision faded away. He'd pulled her so close to him he could have pressed his lips to her temple. He'd probably been breathing down her neck. Clenching his teeth, he exhaled through his nose, frustrated with himself more than anything. But she looked just as fazed.

"What was that for?"

"I'm sorry—"

"You sure as hell are—"

He reached for her again. "Don't do this here. Calm down."

"Calm down?!" She let out a bitter laugh. "Are you serious? Calm down?!"

"Stop," he ordered. She was attracting attention they didn't need.

"No! Fuck you!" She advanced towards him and tried to slap him. He didn't let her. He caught her hand and held it there between them, and she stared at him with a mixture of rage and fear and… something else. And then she started to struggle.

She tried to pull her arm free from his grasp, but he held it at just the right angle so her hand couldn't fit through his fingers, but not tightly enough to hurt her. She could withstand quite a bit of pressure, as he recalled. Her face bunched up as she continued to pull fruitlessly, but she stopped when one of the crew strolled by. She gave up momentarily, her hand dropping to her side, and his grip followed it. From the crewman's perspective, they would have appeared to be holding hands. Khan could barely contain his smirk.

As soon as they were alone again, she immediately went back to fighting him, still trying to weasel her arm out of his hold. He let out a deep sigh in an attempt to come off bored with her, when in fact he was completely enamored and fighting to hide his smile. The way her mouth had puckered up in her intense focus on her trapped wrist was undeniably—and he never thought he would use this word ever in his life—cute.

"Just let me go!" she hissed. "What is your fucking problem?"

"Such disrespectful language."

"Fuck you!"

He didn't bother to hide his smirk anymore and casually released her. In return, she shoved him backwards with surprising force, making him take several steps backwards. As if that hadn't been enough, she stormed towards him and pushed him backwards, until he had to lean back over the railing. He eyed the angle at which he was leaning in order to make her feel like she'd won, but the water below was visible in his peripheral vision. He found the idea of falling into its freezing depths for a second time rather distasteful.

Oh, she wouldn't dare.

He almost wanted to see if she would.

"This isn't funny!" she yelled at him. "Why do you think this is funny?"

"I'm not laughing." He couldn't believe he was letting her do this. His eyes were probably laughing.

Her face was still screwed up and she was fuming—no, not fuming. There were tears in her eyes. "This isn't a game! This isn't 'oh I'm all better now even though I lost my baby and killed my friend and watched my other friend get killed in front of me while you just stood by and—'"

Khan lurched forward off the railing and snagged her by her coat collar, pulling her up against his chest so he could smother the last of the words spilling over her tongue. Her dry lips tasted bittersweet, like the last of a pot of coffee mixed with too little sugar and laced with salt. He breathed her in, shutting his eyes for a moment, a plethora of memories rushing back to him that he wanted to hold onto forever. Then her hands pressing against his chest tore him back to reality and he reluctantly let her go.

He'd wanted to do that all week, no matter the consequences.

Her face was red. Her shoulders rose and fell beneath her coat enough for him to know that she was still trying to catch her breath. She rolled her lips to moisten them, shaking her head faintly. He never broke her gaze.

"Why did you do that?" she whispered.

"Why do you think?"

She stared at him, adjusting her jacket more tightly around herself. "I really meant it when I said I needed time," she said quietly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course."

"Because I don't think you do."

She still had tears in her eyes.

The boat lurched as they came to a halt and the crew began to trickle on deck. They would start the process of fastening heavy mooring lines to the dock soon. Madelyn started to turn away.

"Wait," he called, seized by a sudden panic that she was leaving.

She hesitated. This was like trying to perfect a balancing act on an invisible tightrope. Nothing he said or did made any difference and he was going to fall either way. Maybe he'd already fallen and he just hadn't hit the ground yet. It was a very high tightrope.

"What were you lying about, Madelyn?"

There it was again, that anxiety, the uneasiness that marred her flawless armor. Her wavering gaze stilled and steadied on him like he was a tractor beam pulling her in. "I couldn't tell you because…" she swallowed, distracted suddenly by swirls of blinding light materializing around them.

Khan straightened, realizing there were not two or three of these, but ten or twelve, all surrounding him. Madelyn backed away a little.

"I don't know what you're going to do," she said. "I can't trust you. That's why I did this."

Ten red shirts, one yellow shirt, one blue shirt. Khan pressed his teeth together furiously as phasers gleamed.

"This was the only way I knew of keeping you from hurting anyone else," she continued, her expression anything but victorious. He could have sworn her voice was shaking. "I'm sorry."

He watched as she turned away, ignoring Kirk's greeting as she hurried across the deck until she was off the ship.

She had done this. She had waited, bided her time, allowed him in a little more everyday, genuinely smiled at him, even continued talking without a hitch as he had slid his hand around her elbow or down her back, and all the while she had known what she was doing.

He never should have kissed her.

He could only see the back of her head as she made her way through the crowded port, walking swift and sure of herself, her ponytail bobbing behind her. She turned and looked back once, but she was too far away and surrounded by too many people for him to see her for long.

He never should have kissed her because now she would remember it for as long as they were apart.

He should have let her be.

"Well isn't this a surprise!" Kirk's boyish, smirking face appeared in front of him and he was forced to lose sight of Madelyn. "Funny how she pretended to be into you just to keep you out in the open."

Khan felt new anger boiling inside him. "How dare you speak of her that way—"

"She's a smart girl. You can bet your superior ass she's glad to be rid of you."

No. He refused to believe she'd been false. What he'd seen on her face had been anything but false.

"Captain, I do not believe it would be wise—"

"Shut it, Spock. Let Starfleet know we got him."

Khan didn't struggle or attempt to subdue anyone as his arms were shackled tightly behind him. Madelyn truly believed she had done the best thing she could do, but something about it had reeked of pure, unadulterated self-denial.

He cursed at himself for having kissed her.

"We got you," Kirk repeated, slapping him jovially on the back as beams of transporter lights illuminated the air around them. He wanted to spit at Kirk for his sheer disrespect, for his indulgence in Madelyn's decision that he was quickly realizing she'd made out of absolute desperation to fix what he had done.

In his anger, he could have broken his cuffs right then, had she not been the one responsible for this. He would have destroyed every single member of Starfleet within his reach, and then pursued anyone else who tried to touch him. He would have taken over the Enterprise and used it to find his crew, holding Kirk as a hostage until he was given what he wanted. He would have done everything he could possibly imagine to reclaim his people, short of destroying the entire planet. But even then…

My dear Maddy, you truly are a superior woman.

She was the only thing standing between him and what he wanted to go after, and she had done this on purpose. She had done this because she thought it was the only option left to her, that perhaps it would offer her something of her life back.

Because, in her mind and outside of what she more than likely felt for him, it was the right thing for her to do if it meant keeping him from destroying anything else she cared about.

She had bested him. Madelyn Marla McGivers had bested him.

Wow that was a lot compacted into those scenes. I hope you enjoyed it! please leave a review if you feel so inclined! xoxo