To The Journey

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Between Two Worlds

"Tasha!"

It took Tasha a second to figure out why the young Klingon in warrior's garb with a notable Earth accent was calling her name. "Why, Alexander!"

She embraced him warmly. "What are you doing here?"

He took a step back and gestured to his uniform. "What's it look like?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Since when? I thought you hated all things Klingon."

He shrugged. "In the time I spent away from my dad, I realized that I'd never been fair to him. My mother had a very troubled relationship with the Klingon Empire. From the moment I was born, she told me about how awful the Klingon tradition was. Then I met my father, who wanted so much for me and him to be so Klingon, and I saw that as a disrespect of my mother. But when I thought about it, the reason he's so Klingon is the same reason I don't want to be. He's trying to respect his parents. And when I was away from his pressure I had a chance to really look at it and I realized that. I'll never be a Klingon like he is, but I don't have to buck that so hard. Joining the Defense Force is a way to protect Earth too, and it's a chance for me to create my own identity in relation to the Empire. Not my mom's or my dad's but mine."

"You've done a lot of thinking."

He nodded. "I've been trying to patch things up with my dad too. He's made me part of his new family."

"Wait, what?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"Obviously."

"Well, we both know that Gowron took away the honor of my father's house because my dad decided to defy him and do what he felt was right. Well, after everything they went through together in that prison camp they were in, Martok made my dad a member of his House. And then they made me one."

She hugged him tightly. "I'm proud of you, Alexander."

"Really?"

"You've spent your life being torn in half. Instead of resigning to being conflicted, you took a step back, thought it over, and came up with a middle ground that suited you. That's a sign of real maturity, and you'd better believe it's something to be proud of."

He conferred a warm smile on the woman who had always been a sort of surrogate mother to him. "Thanks, Tasha. That means a lot."

xxxxxxxxx

"Commander."

"General. I thought you were leaving today."

"I am. Later." He fell into step with her. "But I could not depart without congratulating you on the success of this mission. Ah, now," he continued when he saw the expression on her face, "you knew casualties were unavoidable when you got into this."

"It's different," she mumbled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I spoke to Admiral Castillo after I first learned about the time-traveling mess I managed to get myself into. The Federation had been at war since 2346 in that timeline."

"Yes?" If this had been just about anyone else, he would have snapped at them to get to the point already. But Tasha was special. His Tasha, as he thought of her, had always brought out a softer side in him. At first it had been something she had to coax out every time they spoke, but later he had become so used to her that the change had been automatic. That instinct kicked in with this woman too, no matter how many times he reminded himself that she wasn't his lover.

"That other Tasha - that other me - must have known there was a war on when she joined Starfleet."

"She did," he confirmed, and she looked a little ill-at-ease with this. Then again, it had to be strange to have a part of your life, in a sense, that someone knew better than you did.

"We weren't at war when I joined Starfleet. To seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where none have gone before - that was the Starfleet I joined. I didn't ever want or expect to get mixed up in something like this."

"The Tasha I knew joined Starfleet to protect her homeland."

"I figured as much. And maybe I would have, if I had known what was coming. But the fact of the matter is, I didn't. And even more pertinently, Starfleet wasn't exactly preparing its officers for this sort of thing. I didn't have combat training - I didn't even have the minimal training given to command-level officers."

"Which makes your victory all the more impressive." He stepped in front of her to stop her forward motion. "I heard a recording of your strategy meeting, the one where you proposed this course of action. Was it not you who said 'It would be easier on our consciences, maybe, not to have to order people into near-certain death, but in the long run it would mean more lives lost'?"

"How -"

"Pointed ears and upswept eyebrows are not the only remnants of our Vulcan ancestors in the Romulan race."

"Perfect recall."

"Exactly. At any rate, your assessment was correct from both a tactical and moral standpoint. And remember - I know you. If you hadn't voiced your idea, if you had backed down, you would be feeling even more guilt over the additional lives you would feel you could have saved."

"Now that's off-putting."

"What?"

"I know next to nothing about you. And yet, you know me almost as well as I know me."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. It's just a stupid time paradox."

"And yet, I'm grateful for it."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Tasha - this is your, shall we say, prime reality? If that paradox had not happened, I would never have met my Tasha. And I do not know where I would be." He resisted the urge to reach for her hand. "She made me a better person. I married a few years after she died, you know."

"I didn't."

"Of course you didn't, what am I saying? Sela wouldn't have told you - she resented me and my wife. I wasn't thrilled about the idea either, but everyone around me insisted I needed to. There was a lot of speculation. I told you that the extent of my relationship with - your counterpart - remained a secret, but people talked. My advisers warned me that I must marry formally or risk my respect within the military ranks."

"So you did?"

"She was - a fancy of my childhood, a woman I had once thought I might marry. I tolerated her. I grew to like her. But I have never loved her. My heart is a gift I could give only once. Tasha was what I needed, the only woman who could ever bring out what I tried to keep buried. " He paused and smiled, a real, genuine smile in a face worn down by years of pain. "See? You have no cause for concern."

"I don't follow."

"You were concerned because I knew so much more about you than you did about me. But the more time you spend around me, the more you will get to know me. You see, even though I know intellectually that you are not the woman I love, I still - some of the instincts, the changes I always felt around her come back. I speak freely, I hold nothing back." He stopped and drew a breath. "Not a day goes by that I don't miss her."

"I can't imagine."

He glanced down to her left hand, where she bore the ring that he knew was a human way of showing an intent to marry. "Whoever he is, if you are anything like my Tasha at all, he is a fortunate man."

They had reached the docking ring. "Tell me one thing, General."

"Anything."

"Your Tasha - how old was she when she escaped her homeworld?"

It took only a moment for him to recall this, even though she'd only told him once. "She was twelve. Why?"

She forced some neutrality onto her face. "No real reason, I guess. Mere curiosity."

"Ah. Well then, goodbye." He nodded to her. "Hopefully, we will meet again."

"It would be my honor."

xxxxxxxxx

"Twelve. She was twelve."

"What?" Data did a bit of a double-take. Tasha's comment seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"My alternate reality counterpart. She was twelve when she got off Turkana."

"You've asked the General, I presume."

She nodded. "I was curious. I had to know."

"Why?" Data gave her a curious look. "Forgive me for asking, but what difference does it make?"

She didn't give him a spoken answer, but her hand moved to cover her midsection - the belly that had borne her one child, and would never bear another. Understanding filled Data's eyes, and his own pale hand gently cupped around hers.

"I had a child she never did," she whispered, "and she had a child I never could."

He pulled her backwards into his arms, keeping his hand over hers. "Does having children really mean that much to you?"

"I - yes, I guess. I don't really know why, but after Eva, and then basically helping to raise my foster sister, I just always wanted a chance to have my own."

"Your own in what sense?"

"Children I could raise, not just help someone else raise, who would call me Mommy, who I could hold in my arms as babies and watch them grow up - get everything I never had with Eva. I know I could never replace her, but - I don't want my only experience as a parent to be giving birth in a dark alley and having my child die in my arms two days later."

"What about Lal?"

"I - she grew up too fast. Much faster even than you did, if Juliana is to be believed. She was basically an adult by the time she was a year old. I love her dearly, I'm her mother, but I want to raise a child. As crazy as it sounds, I want all the challenges that come with parenting."

Data pressed his lips into her hair. "There is always the option of using some sort of surrogacy or artificial incubation. Or -" he broke off rather suddenly.

"What?"

"It is nothing. A silly thought."

"Tell me."

"Well, it occurs to me - we are in the middle of a war."

"Uh, yeah." She tried to come up with a tactful way to point out that Data had just stated the incredibly obvious.

"Wars create orphans. Tragic, but true. Once we're married, and once this war is over, we could look into adopting our family."

A smile crossed Tasha's formerly grim face, and she turned in his arms to kiss him firmly on the mouth. "Data, you're a genius."

"It was a logical idea."

"It may have been staring me in the face, but I sure didn't see it." She rested her head on his chest. "Ourfamily. Our family. It sounds so nice."

xxxxxxxxx

He came down here more than was rational. He was just glad no one had reason to look into his personal habits, or this would definitely be a topic of discussion.

It was just a room, nothing special about it. A room built specifically for the purpose of confining a person, no less.

But he always thought he could feel the essence of the last person to be confined here.

For the longest time, he just stood over her, staring, watching her sleep. He had watched her sleep a lot in the past five years, but this was different. This would be the last time. Tomorrow - he couldn't even think about tomorrow.

His fingers ran almost involuntarily over her, taking in every tiny detail. The yellow hair - he would be shocked if more than two people on Romulus had it. Of course those two people should have been well off Romulus right now, not... He was trying not to be angry with Sela, but it wasn't easy. This was all her fault.

His hand continued its gentle exploration, sliding through the ends of her short hair, caressing the gently rounded ear, then moving to her face, trying to memorize everything, every detail of how she looked and how she felt under his hand. His fingers tenderly brushed the lips he had kissed so many times. She stirred a little at this last touch, eyes fluttering open. He met them instantly with his, trying to etch that detail into his memory as well.

"You shouldn't be here." She sat up a little.

"I had to see you." He rested his forehead gently against hers. "I've tried everything I know, but there's nothing I can do, Tasha. I'm sorry."

She nodded. "I didn't think there was." She brushed the hair off his face, letting her hand rest on his cheek. "Don't blame our daughter. She doesn't understand."

She always knew what he was thinking without him having to say a word. It was both endearing and exasperating, but right now all he could think was how much he was going to miss that little trait of hers.

"I never meant for this to happen."

"I know that. You're not to blame."

"I -"

"Whatever it is you're blaming yourself for, you can just forgive yourself right now, because I already have."

"Are you all right?" he asked, chastising himself for the stupidity of the question. "Have they been feeding you? Have they hurt you?" Of course those things were pointless to worry about in the long run, but he didn't want her to suffer.

"I'm okay," she whispered, but her voice trembled as she said it.

"What is it?" He let his gentle side shine through, the side no one but her ever saw.

She gestured toward the outside door, the guard, and he could see tears shimmering in her eyes.

"What did he do?"

She just shook her head, and he knew that meant she wasn't able to talk about it. He took her into his arms, bringing her head to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered weakly. "I really wanted - I wanted you to be my last -"

It hit him what she meant, and his entire body tensed in anger. "He didn't."

She nodded tearfully, and he tightened the embrace. "I mean nothing to these men. I'm going to die tomorrow anyway, what does it matter if they -"

"It matters to you, and that means it matters to me." He stroked her hair gently, holding her close. "And I'm going to make it matter to him."

"You shouldn't. Makar, they can't know - no one knows what we were to each other. Don't put yourself in danger for my honor. I won't be around long enough for it to matter."

"Stop it!" His vehemence surprised them both. "Tasha, please. I don't want to - I can't think about that."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right." He continued to hold her close. "And don't worry. I can find ways to make him pay without anyone ever catching on."

"Promise me something."

"Anything."

"Don't tell Sela the truth. Not until she's much older. She had no idea of the consequences of her actions when she cried out. She was acting on impulse. It's what four-year-olds do. I don't want her to feel bad."

"I promise."

"And if you find someone else - don't let the memory of what we had tarnish your ability to have something else."

"There won't be anyone else." It wasn't an idle remark - he meant it. "Not like you. You are special - the only woman I have ever loved, and the only woman I will ever love."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." He cradled her close.

She met his eyes. "Did you send the guard away?"

"At the far end of the hall. He is not to return unless I call him."

"Then - make love to me."

"Tasha -"

"Please. I don't want my last time to be - like my first." He was well aware of her past.

"Are you certain?" She had to be shaken after what the guard had done.

"Yes, I'm certain."

He drew her back to the bed. He had insisted she be secured in one of their lockable rooms instead of a cell - it had earned him some odd looks, but he knew she feared small spaces, and he couldn't do that to her. The bed wasn't great, but it was a bed, not a metal bunk.

He laid her on her back and slowly took off her shirt. There were bruises on her shoulders and ribcage from being restrained, and it made him sick. Forcing that aside, he began to undress himself.

She was tense under him, and he felt her flinch when he began to remove her pants. Her whole body was trembling in spite of her efforts.

Instantly, he climbed off her and began to replace her shirt. "No, Tasha. We can't."

"Why not?"

"You're not ready."

"I am -"

"Look at you. You're shaking."

"I'm fine."

"No, Tasha. I don't want our last time to be something you didn't really want. I don't want that to be the one time I hurt you."

"Niether do I," she admitted, and he could tell she was struggling not to cry. "I just -"

"Forget about him." Now fully clothed, he took his lover back in his arms. "Just remember the first time we said goodbye."

That had been three nights ago, before everything had fallen apart. When goodbye had been just a temporary thing, and their rather intense session in bed had been just a result of knowing it might take a long time before he could sneak into Federation territory and visit her. Now - now goodbye was forever, and it was tearing him apart.

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"I know." He could feel her shaking still.

"I don't want to die."

"I don't want to lose you."

"Strange," she whispered into his neck, "five years ago, I was perfectly ready to give up my life without a second thought. I've had five years I never thought I'd get, and now - I don't want to die," she repeated. "I don't want to leave you and Sela."

"And I'd do anything if it meant I could keep you with me."

"Stay with me."

"What?"

"Just until they change the guard. Please. I don't - I couldn't stand it if he hurt me again."

He needed no further convincing. Hurriedly shedding his boots, he climbed into the bed behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back into his chest. He relished every second of it. His last chance to hold her.

Her shaking eased as he kept her pressed against him. He felt her relax as she fell asleep. He couldn't. He had to stay awake or he'd lose this time, never get it back.

It was with extreme reluctance that he sat up, gently shaking her awake. "Tasha."

"What?" Her eyes fluttered open.

"It's nearly time. I must leave."

She nodded reluctantly, watching intently as he pulled his boots on. Then he knelt next to her bed.

"My dear Tasha." He drew her to him and kissed her. "I love you -" kiss - "so much -" kiss "I'll never forget you -" kiss "I'll miss you so much."

"I love you," she whispered back in between more kisses. "If I could -" kiss "do it all over again -" kiss "I wouldn't change anything -" kiss "that happened more than three days ago."

Their mouths met in one long, passionate kiss, broken only when they needed to breathe. Before he could stop himself, he unwrapped his arms from around her and stood.

Forcing back the tears in his eyes, he looked back at her. "Goodbye, my darling Tasha."

He thought he saw tears in her eyes as well. "Goodbye."

"General?"

The voice drew him from his memories, and he spun to see a figure standing there. The person was in shadow, but Makar didn't need a clear visual to recognize her. One glance at her pale hair told him all he needed to know. "Sela! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you about that proposition you sent me, but - what are you doing here?"

He was a bit ashamed that he'd been caught. No one knew this little secret. That is, no one had known.

"Just - thinking."

"You come down to the detention level to think?"

He looked her over carefully, Despite what he had let her and others think, Sela had always been his favorite. The only child of the only woman he had ever loved. "Yes, sometimes," he answered finally.

"Why?"

He drew a slow breath. He had honored Tasha's request for the past twenty-five years and not told Sela anything more than she already knew about her family situation or her mother's death than she already knew. But Sela was nearly thirty. She was no longer a child.

He beckoned to her. "Come. Sit. We need to talk."

"In a cell?"

"We won't be overheard."

She perched herself on the bed - the same bed where her parents had spent their final night together, though she didn't yet know that.

"The cell," she said briskly.

"The cell. This is where your mother was confined after she was arrested."

Sela said nothing, clearly waiting for him to elaborate further.

"Sela, while I don't know exactly what you're thinking, I could hazard a guess. The truth is that a lot of what you have believed - what all of Romulus believed - is false." He sat down next to her. "My marriage is political, Sela. I could never love my wife."

"Why?" she challenged.

"Because I gave my heart once. I could never give it again. Sela, your mother was the only woman I ever loved."

"She betrayed you."

He shook his head sadly. "Your mother didn't want you told this when you were a child, but I think you're old enough now. She never betrayed me. I knew all about her escape. We planned it together."

"You - what?"

"My dear daughter, you have never been fully accepted on Romulus, and your mother was never seen as more than a slave. I didn't want that life for either of you. Tasha wanted to stay, but she caved when I pointed out the life you would most likely lead on Romulus. It was both of us, together, who decided she would leave and take you with her. I should have warned you, but I was so afraid you'd say something by mistake, and that caution cost me the life of the woman I loved."

"You wanted me to go with her." Sela's voice was soft with shock.

He nodded. "When she was imprisoned, I came down here to visit her. This was the last place we were ever together. That's why I come down here now."

"Sentimentality."

He shrugged, not denying it. "She always brought that out in me." He favored his firstborn with a fond look. "You're a lot more like her than you realize."

Sela opened her mouth to deny it, but stopped herself. After all, it appeared her father had known her mother far longer than she had.

Sorry this took so long. Life got in the way.

A lot of this came out of nowhere, especially the flashback scene. What did you think?

Please review.