Year: 2258 Location: Section 31

Khan sat up on his bed, panting heavily. The sheets that were once wrapped around him were now coiled and ruffled around his strong waist. Beads of sweat slithered down the sides of his face and littered his upper lip and brow. His vision was groggy and his heart still raced from the terror inflicted by his dreams, the war, his friends, her.

There was a sudden heavy weight in his heart. His knees bent towards his chest, his body hunched over his longs limbs as he combed his trembling fingers through his hair. Nightmares, he was being haunted by nightmares, something he never thought possible.

The fire that consumed her, her desperate screams, they continued to echo in his mind, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

I couldn't help her, I couldn't save her.

He shut his eyes and fell back, till the back of his head made heavy impact with the wall behind him. He squinted up at the white ceiling before allowing his gaze to drift to the corner of his eyes, to stare out at the sea of stars through the circular window.

He began to think of her. He reminisced back to a time when he found her in such a position. Nightmares had plagued her constantly and he remembered the first time he had decided to soothe her.

Khan had found her one night curled up on the floor, at the foot of his bed, fast asleep. He was surprised by the sight that greeted him, but when he spotted the wide open book beside her form, he made the obvious deduction. He didn't make a move to awaken her. He was quite pleased that she was comfortable enough to slumber in the place that wasn't atop the wardrobe.

After cleaning up for the night, Khan followed her example and went to bed, only to be woken up to the sound of her whimpers. At first he lay there, simply listening to the sounds of anguish just hoping they would die down. But as the time flew her cries were stronger, accompanied by rough movements. He quickly sat up and then threw his legs over the side of his bed before getting to his feet. He rounded the bed and stood in front of her, peering down at her writhing form.

"Zahara." He had called at first. She hadn't responded to his call.

He squatted down and loomed over her. She was on her back, her entire body stiff with her hands clenched tightly at her sides. Drops of perspiration were littered across her forehead and dripping down her face. Her features were scrunched in a deep aversion and pain. He didn't like witnessing such discomfort on her.

He reached out bravely and gripped her shoulder and shook her demandingly. Her fidgeting actions immediately stilled and she shot up. Khan didn't know if it was a flight or fight reaction or her mistaking him for an assailant in a dream, but she attempted to injure him. Khan caught her hands swiftly in his just as her eyes snapped open.

"It's Khan." He stated firmly. She fell motionless, her chest heaving wildly as she struggled to regain her breathing. Her wide golden eyes were focused on him, alarmed by his appearance. His gray eyes narrowed on her face, seeing the beads of sweat drip down the sides of her face, his touch gentled.

She squirmed and attempted to dislodge from his touch but he held her resolutely. His hands slipped down her arms and to her wrists. He pressed three fingers into the base of her wrist, he applied enough pressure to elicit a hiss from her.'

"What are you—"

"Hush." He cut in sternly. Her lips squashed down to a thin line, seething silently. But the moment he used his thumb to gently massage the tension he felt in her wrist, she stopped glaring. He dropped down from his squatting position to sit directly in front of her with his legs crossed. His fingers continued to move in circular motions, soothingly kneading the flesh.

"Focus on my touch." He breathed smoothly, his voice low and spellbinding "and allow yourself to relax."

She complied despite her reluctance. He moved his touch up to the left corner of her wrist and began to pinch at the skin. Silence shrouded the room, it was a peaceful one. After a few moments her heaving breathing had dulled and she was inhaling normally once more.

Khan hadn't preformed acupressure on anyone before. It was all theory he had read in a book on Eastern medication. He was glad that his vast knowledge on the subject during a time of boredom had come to be useful.

"Better?" He asked raising his gaze to hers. She had her eyes shut as if enjoying his touch, he was pleased by this.

"Yes." She murmured her voice husky and dazed. The gruffness could be from the sleep or...other reasons.

"Good." He concluded pushing back his lustful thoughts. His fingers danced up the rough skin of her palm and to the tips of her fingers. "Grant yourself the relief of releasing all that anger you have festering inside you or it will continue to haunt you."

He had intended on his words being a way of caution, but Zahara had taken them in an entirely different way. Khan was taken back when she abruptly ripped her hand from his grip. He looked to her for an explanation only to be caught under her golden eyes that were gleaming dangerously.

"This anger in me is what kept me in control of my identity, at least what was left. Do not be so quick to bark orders without fully comprehending what you ask of me." She snarled her teeth were bared. Khan blinked unsure of how to handle her sudden repulsion and rage towards him.

"I know exactly what I demanded of you." He countered confidently.

"No, you don't." She opposed, bristling "Until you understand, until you experience the full impact of having your life, your dignity and feeling helpless at the whim of another, then you will understand that anger is all that will help you survive."

He had thought her to be irrational, emotional after the nightmare. He had a vicious retort readied at the tip of his tongue. But the tears that lined her narrowed eyes and the He was annoyed when she abandoned him on the floor and retreated to the top of her cupboard.

Khan understood now, and he regretted never acknowledging the weight of her words. He wanted to tell her that, but it too late and the realization physically hurt.

With a heavy weight in his chest, dry parched throat and throbbing headache, Khan wondered how he could will himself to sleep again.