-Chapter Twenty-Two-

Anthea hadn't used a transporter since her Academy days, and she wasn't fond of the sensation. Too much like ants crawling under and on her skin. After his initial fright, Nolan didn't seem too bothered by it, and Khan, naturally, barely noticed. Of course, her husband developed a portable transwarp beaming device and used it to jump from Earth to Qo'noS, so she wasn't the least surprised. He'd had to have tested it many times.

Kirk stepped off the platform first, pulling out his communicator. "Bones, we're on board. I'm sending Khan and his wife to you." To his "visitors", he said, "I need to get to the bridge, but I'll come down to Medbay in a few minutes to see how you're doing."

Anthea could only nod.

At the medbay, Anthea was offered something to change into, to get the grime-and-blood-caked clothes off, and so McCoy could examine her injuries. Nolan began screaming the moment the nurse took Nolan from her, so Khan held him, trying to soothe his son. The nurse resorted to fetching the tribble and handing it to the distraught little boy. Nolan wrapped his small arms around it, hugging the purring creature tight. Gradually, Nolan's cries turned to whimpers, then sniffles, and he nodded off in Khan's arms. As soon as he was out, Khan extracted the tribble from his arms and handed it back to the nurse.

It was a little awkward to stand in the nude before the doctor as he scanned her. Fortunately, it was only cursory. He scanned her head, then the bruises on her arms. When he found the scars, he raised an eyebrow.

"Section 31 initiation," she told him quietly. "One of the reasons I had little problem with it getting blown up, or with Marcus dying."

Anthea looked to Khan, and he gave her a faint smile.

She dressed in some borrowed scrubs and sat for the rest of the exam. Then she took Nolan from Khan so that McCoy could examine the toddler.

"You'll want to keep from hittin' your head anytime soon," McCoy told Anthea. "Or doing anything too stressful. You've had a pretty bad concussion, and you've got some bruising of your left temporal lobe that concerns me. Unfortunately, I can't really fix that here. It should go away on its own, eventually."

She reached up and touched the yellow, green, and purple lump on her forehead. "If I do hit my head?"

"Brain injuries are hard to predict. Some of the facilities back on Earth have the equipment to heal it right up for you, but we don't have one on board. You need to watch for dizziness, nausea- yeah, I know, you're pregnant and have that anyway, but I'm talkin' really bad and sudden. You need to rest as much as possible. You could have microscopic injuries that aren't showin' up on the scan, and they could get worse. Aneurysms and subdural hematomas can develop if you aren't careful, 'cause you could tear all sorts of stuff in there if you do somethin' wrong."

Khan reached out, brushing his fingers over the bump on his wife's head. "If that does happen, what do we do?"

McCoy shrugged. "Drill a hole in her head an' drain it? You got a medical android, right? It should be equipped with the procedure, if Yves doesn't know how."

Khan narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "I am not drilling a hole in my wife's head."

"Look, Khan. For all the advanced medical treatments we got? The brain's still the one thing we can't completely fix with lasers and scanners."

Khan rested his hand on Anthea's shoulder, near where Nolan's head rested, and nodded in resignation.

"But other than that?" she asked. "Am I alright?"

"Yeah, you got some scrapes and bruises, and I think you sprained your wrist a little, but it seems to be on the mend already."

"And the baby?"

McCoy smiled. "Your little one is just fine. You're eleven weeks pregnant, accordin' to my computer. You'll be due, oh, around the same time Nolan here was born. The fetus doesn't show any signs of anything wrong from your ordeal, but I suspect a good lotta that's due to Dad here."

Khan gave McCoy a tight nod. "Speaking of my son?"

"Same thing, bumps and scrapes, but he's recovering faster."

"Naturally."

"Do . . ." Anthea licked her lips. "Do we- Can we tell what it is yet?"

McCoy shrugged. "If we did some invasive testing, we could check DNA, but that runs the risk of causing a miscarriage. I'd recommend waiting a few more weeks, until you're sixteen weeks or so, and have Yves do an ultrasound."

"Alright." Anthea kissed the top of Nolan's head, then looked at her husband. "I want a bath and to sleep."

"You can go," the doctor said. "Nurse Abrams will escort you back to your quarters."

"I believe we'll be fine on our own," Khan told him. "I know the way."

Anthea slid off the bed, Nolan still clutched to her chest, and pressed tight against his side. He wrapped an arm around her and guided her out of the medbay and down one level to the quarters he'd been assigned but had barely used.

It was designed for two single crew members, with beds on opposite sides of the room. Khan dragged one of the beds over to join the other, then led Anthea to it.

She sniffled, trying to hold it together, but her control was slipping. Khan saw it clearly, and he took Nolan from her, the exhausted child giving no sign he was aware of anything going on around him as he slept. Placing Nolan nearest the wall, he motioned for Anthea to join him on the bed.

She crawled up, into her husband's arms, and then she broke, sobbing with her face pressed against his chest. Silently, Khan held her, his fingers stroking her hair, until her tears subsided.

"Don't leave me," she whispered.

"I won't. I promise."

"Bad things happen when you leave me."

"Never again," he promised. He kissed the top of her head. "Never, ever again. Even if God himself were to come and ask it of me, I will *not* leave you again."

Anthea raised her head, looked at him with red-rimmed grey eyes. "Tell me you killed them."

"Every last one."

"Good. I know it's bloodthirsty of me, but . . . I was so scared, Khan. I knew you'd come for us, but I didn't know what they wanted, or if . . . you'd find us in time."

"I was terrified that I would not find you," he admitted in a whisper. "Or that I would be too late, and I would lose you and Nolan. Finding you gone, when I got home . . . That was the worst feeling I have experienced in my life, Thea."

"I fought," she said. "I tried, but I couldn't get away."

"I saw the Klingon," he told her. "That was an excellently placed thrust."

"Hard to miss with a target that big."

He sat up. "Let's get you and Nolan that bath. You're both filthy."

Anthea wrinkled her nose. "And a bit ripe. Thanks for not pointing that out, by the way."

Khan snorted a laugh. "Come. I'll start the water for you."

Anthea sat on the floor of the shower stall, Nolan in her lap, and gently washed the days of grime from his skin. He had bruises from where the Klingons had held him too tightly, and from when he'd fallen. Khan could take almost any beating, but her little boy was only half his blood, and he was still so young.

She kissed the bruise on his shoulder and felt tears prick her eyes. Sniffling, she gathered him close, kissing the top of his small head.

"I'm so sorry they hurt you, baby," she murmured. "Mummy didn't do a very good job of protecting you, did she?"

Khan, sitting outside the stall, made an impatient sound. "You did better than you think," he told her. "After all, you're both still alive, and there's two less of them, at your hands."

"I know. But I should have . . . I don't know, found a way to keep their hands off him."

"At what cost?" Khan shifted to sit on his haunches, head tipped as he studied her. "You protected him, first and foremost. If you had gone on the offense, they would have killed you and taken him, and then he would have been truly alone and defenseless."

"I know, I know! I can't help feeling like this, though."

Nolan reached up and patted her face. "Mama."

She took his little hand and kissed his palm. "Mummy's just a little sad, No. It's alright."

Once she had the toddler cleaned up, Khan carted him back into the bedroom and put him down to sleep. When he returned to the bathroom, he found her with her face pressed to her knees, crying.

He stripped off his dirty clothes and stepped into the shower, bending to lift her from the floor. "Anthea."

"I don't know why I'm crying!" she told him brokenly, her tears mixing with the water.

"Because you've been through a trauma, and you're pregnant," he pointed out. "I'd be surprised if you weren't crying."

Khan turned her so that the water ran over her hair. With an astonishing amount of patience, he combed his fingers through the dark tangles, working all the knots out with a gentle touch. Then he massaged shampoo through the strands, doing what she, at that moment, could not.

"I'm not an invalid," she whispered.

"Hush. Let me do this." He pushed her wet hair aside and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. "I vowed to take care of you, remember? In sickness and in health?"

Khan helped her rinse the soap from her hair, turning his attention to the rest of her. Seeing the scrapes and bruises, the livid mottling across her face where Rodriguez had hit her, made his blood boil anew. He forced it back, kissing her temple the way she'd kissed Nolan's hurts.

"He's dead," he told her.

"Who?"

"Rodriguez."

She took a moment to process that. She hadn't even considered him, with everything else going on. "Did . . . the Klingons kill him?"

"No." Khan ran the wash cloth over her collar bone. "I did."

"You? But-"

"He hurt you and he betrayed us. He knew what I would do, and he did it anyway." Khan tipped her head up, running the pad of his thumb over her lips. "Did I want to? No. But he gave me no choice."

"I hate to say it, but I'm glad he's dead. I don't care that he hit me, but he let the Klingons take Nolan, and for that-"

"Oh, he deserved to die, no doubt. Hush, now."

Putting himself between her and the water, Khan backed her against the wall, tipping her head back to kiss her. He slanted his mouth over hers.

"Mmm," she murmured against his lips.

He cupped the back of her head through the wet tangle of her hair, kissing her hungrily. She sighed into his mouth, her tongue finding his.

Anthea flattened her hands on his upper abdomen, fingers curling against his muscles as desire flared to life. After so long afraid and in the dark, she needed his touch on her skin to assure her that she was safe.

She pulled back a little. "Khan," she began.

He heard the tremour in her voice. "Shh. I know, my love. Let me . . . let me do this."

Later, she sagged weakly against him, her face against his shoulder. "Maybe," she mumbled against his shoulder, "that wasn't the best idea. But I needed it so badly."

He trailed his fingers down her spine. "I thought it was an excellent idea."

She lifted her head, wincing as she did. "But now I've a headache."

Instantly concerned, Khan cupped her face in his hands. "How bad is it?"

"Not bad, just a little achey. I think I need sleep."

He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, I sometimes forget you don't recover the way we do. Of course you need sleep."

They left the shower and he helped her dry off. They dressed in the clothes they'd been given-the others long-sinced burned as hazardous waste due to all the blood-and he carried her to bed.