Warning: Non-explicit descriptions of physical and sexual assault as Zoe talks about what happened. If you skipped chapter 17, it will be enough to explain what happened, but way less squicky. HOWEVER, this is a 'soft M' for a slightly steamy bit at the end.
Fugue
Fugue: In music, a composition in which one or two themes are repeated or imitated by successively entering voices and contrapuntally developed in a continuous interweaving of the voice parts.
(=A=)
Stardate 45130.40
(Saturday, 17 February 2368, 17:30 hours, ship's time)
"He…he…"
"You do not have to say it."
But I do have to. I have to, now, or I never will.
"Lore raped me," the words hang between us. "I wish you could make it not be true."
His arms tighten around me and he buries his face in my hair. His whisper is the most heartbreaking thing I've ever heard him say.
"As do I."
We stay that way for several minutes. Him holding me. Me being held.
I close my eyes.
Safe. Secure.
Trust this. Trust Data. Trust us.
The electrical whine of the tricorder. The snap of it closing.
The comm-channel opening.
"Data to Enterprise. Two to beam directly to sickbay. Please have Counselor Troi on standby."
- From Crush II: Ostinato, chapter 17, "Fractured"
(=A=)
Stardate 45131.55
(Sunday, 18 February 2368, 03:34 hours, ship's time)
I woke up in my own bed on the Enterprise, but something was different about my room. The door was open; I never sleep with the door open. Our quarters were dark, nearly silent, and I could sense that someone was in the living room.
I had to pee.
I sat up in bed and took stock: I was wearing a long nightshirt – not one of my usual baggy t-shirts, but an actual sleep shirt. I lifted my hands to rub sleep from my eyes, and nearly hit myself in the face with the cast on my right wrist.
Memory came flooding back to me.
(=A=)
Stardate 45130.83
(Saturday, 17 February 2368, 21:16 hours, ship's time)
"I've fixed the scalp laceration, the cracked ribs and the bruising to your trachea. It may still hurt to talk for a day or so," Dr. Crusher was speaking softly, but still in a professional tone. "I've used the bone regenerator on your wrist, but with fine bones it's better to use a cast for several days – in your case a week, I think."
I was in sickbay. Data had found me on Lore's ship and brought me home early that morning, naked except for his brother's cast-off leather jacket, my ripped red lace bra, and my socks. "Thank you," I said. "Sorry to be so much trouble."
"Oh, Zoe," she sat down on the edge of the bio bed. "No one thinks you're any trouble. Commander Riker and I feel horrible for not being more aware of what was going on, and Data…"
"Where is he? And my Mom?"
"Data's making his report to the captain; he'll be back very soon. Your mother is just outside."
"When can I go home?"
"Now if you want, I can have Data go to your quarters when he's through speaking with Captain Picard." She paused. "If you'd rather wait for Data to escort you, that's fine. Can I get you anything?"
"A shower," I said. "I'd kill for a shower. Or two. Or fifty."
(=A=)
Stardate 45131.55
(Sunday, 18 February 2368, 03:34 hours, ship's time)
- Continued -
I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I was stiff and sore, but I did what I needed and washed my hands, and then took a good look at myself in the mirror.
I looked exhausted, mostly. The doctor had healed the bruises on my head and throat, but I felt like I was still wearing them. My breast ached where Lore had bitten it. I didn't want to know yet if that had been healed, too.
"Zoe?" The warm tenor voice that was becoming as familiar to me as my own jolted me out of my brain-fog. "Zoe, it is Data. May I come in?"
"In a minute," I said. I splashed water on my face, smoothed my sleep shirt, and left the bathroom, returning to my bedroom, where Data was hovering just outside the door. "Where's my mother?"
"She and Ed went to bed roughly three hours ago, when it appeared that you would be sleeping through the night."
"He's here?"
"Yes."
"And you're here?" He gave me a look that clearly meant I was stating the obvious. "Well, this isn't weird at all."
"I believe the circumstances warrant some of what you call 'weirdness,' Zoe. However, I can leave if you –"
"NO!" I didn't know why, but the thought of Data leaving, even if it was only to go to his own quarters, two decks away, had me panicked. "Don't. Don't leave."
He stepped close to me. "Zoe, may I touch you?"
His question confused me. "Of course, you can. Why would you even ask me that?"
Instead of answering, he drew me into his arms, just holding me. Very softly, he said, "After what you experienced, I was not certain you would wish contact from someone who looks like –"
Again, I cut him off. "Data, you are not him. I know this. You could never be him." I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head against his chest. I have no idea how long we stayed that way, only that at some point he guided me back to my bed.
"You should rest."
I was tired, but I wasn't ready to sleep. I'd been nightmare-free so far, but I knew it wouldn't last. "Would you mind making some tea and sitting with me for a while?" He seemed almost glad to be able to do something. I got back under my covers and waited for him to reappear with two cups of tea, one of which he handed to me. It was awkward, holding it with my left hand, but I managed. "Chamomile," I said. "Thank you." He was still standing, so I scooted over against the wall, making room. "Sit with me."
If he took time to consider my invitation, he did so quickly enough that it wasn't evident to me. Super android thinking skills in action. Balancing his tea, he joined me on the bed. For the first time since I was taken by Lore's transporter beam, I truly felt relaxed and safe.
We finished our tea in silence. I didn't want to talk; I just wanted not to be alone. Data took my empty cup from me, and I curled up against him and went back to sleep - or tried to. Twice I woke up just to make sure he was still there.
The third time, Data woke me from a nightmare, but not soon enough to keep my mother from running to see what was going on. I saw Mom register that he was in my bed (fully dressed, but, still…), and I expected her to yell, but something in the way he was stroking my hair must have meant something to her, because she smiled softly, thanked him for staying with me, told me to try and sleep, and triggered my door to close when she left.
"And the weirdness keeps on coming," I muttered.
"Indubitably," Data replied softly. "It is not yet eight hundred hours. Try to sleep a while longer. I will remain here."
(=A=)
Stardate 45135.46
(Monday, 19 February 2368, 13:57 hours, ship's time)
I slept until eleven, when Data woke me because he had to leave. "I must report to the shuttle bay to supervise the preliminary analysis of Lore's ship. Your mother is here, and Counselor Troi will be here this afternoon, but do not hesitate to contact me if you…" he hesitated, probably looking for an alternative to 'require assistance,' I guessed. I must have been right, because he finished his sentence with "… need me."
I nodded. "I will. I mean… I won't. I mean…"
"I understand." He turned to go.
"Data, wait…"
"Zoe?" He returned to my bedside.
"Are all my… what's left of my clothes, and my messenger bag… are they all still on his ship?"
"Yes. No one will move anything until I am there. Do you wish me to return your belongings?"
"I want my bag back – my padd was still in it, and my harp. I left it in the cargo bay, I think. And my boots if they're still there." I laughed softly. "I was wearing those boots when I kicked him last year. But the rest… what's left… I don't want to see." It crossed my mind to ask him if he could make it so no one else would see – at least not the underwear – but I didn't.
"You will not have to," he promised. He leaned over me and asked softly, "May I kiss you goodbye?" I knew why he was asking, but the fact that he did still made tears spring into my eyes. I blinked them back, nodding, and he brushed a brief, tender kiss across my lips. "I will return this evening," he said.
He left, and I let tears flow as much because Data had felt he had to ask for permission before he kissed me, as because I wasn't sure how I would have reacted if he hadn't asked.
Nearly three hours later, I'd managed to shower and get dressed – much more difficult to accomplish one-handed than I'd have ever guessed. I ended up just putting on a really loose tank top over sweatpants because I couldn't manage a bra and wasn't ready to admit I needed help.
Anyway, I wasn't going anywhere.
Mom was in the living room working on a padd, when I left my room, but she put it down when I collapsed onto the couch next to her. "It's good to see you out of bed," she said. "Are you hungry?"
I had to think about it. "I know I should be," I said. "But mostly I just feel drained and kind of… out of synch."
She smoothed my hair away from my face – I hadn't been able to do anything with it – and tucked a few strands behind my ear. "You should try to eat. Maybe a smoothie?"
I thought about it for a minute. My throat still ached a little, and it would probably help. "Will you program it for me? Orange."
She ruffled the hair she'd just smoothed. "I might even join you." She left the couch, and I used the time it took her to replicate two smoothies to peek at her padd. Nothing interesting, just a novel. She returned to the couch and handed me one of the glasses.
I sucked some of the cold, creamy liquid through the straw in my glass. It soothed my throat, but it tasted like sand. Or mud, I guess. I grimaced but since I hadn't actually eaten anything in days, and the only nourishment I'd had since Data had found me was from hypo-sprays and IVs, I forced down some more of it.
My mother was watching me with an odd expression on her face.
"What?" I asked, the word coming out a lot snippier than I meant it.
She shook her head slightly. "Four days ago, I thought you were lost. Yesterday, when Data beamed into sickbay with you in his arms and confirmed that you'd been – not just hurt – but raped, I didn't think you'd even get out of bed for days. And then this morning when you had a nightmare, and I saw how protective Data was of you…" Another head shake replaced the end of sentence. "A month ago, you were still my little girl. When, exactly did you grow up?"
For once, I didn't have a snarky response. "Oh, Mom. I'm not as grown up as all that. I was terrified you were going to read Data the riot act – superior officer or not – for being in my bed last night – this morning? – whatever. It was all kinds of weird. Is it true that Ed was here?"
She nodded, and, I noted, she blushed. My mother actually blushed. "I would have told you as soon as you got home if…"
I looked away. If… If… Was the rest of my life going to be about things that might have happened (or not happened) if…? But I remembered the dinner I'd had with Ed a few weeks before. "Did he propose?"
"Valentine's Day," she said.
"And?"
"And…?" My mother pretended not to know what I wanted to hear.
"Mom!"
She held out her left hand, displaying a tasteful diamond ring. "I said yes."
"That's awesome!" I set my glass on our coffee table and moved across the couch to hug my mother.
We embraced, and when I sat back she raised her hands to the side of my face, the way she'd done tons of times in my life, to look into my eyes. "Sweetie, are you sure you're okay with this? I know you weren't happy about your father and Gia…"
But I couldn't answer because suddenly I was back on that cold, dark ship with Lore's hands squeezing my face just before his acid kiss. "No… don't…" I pulled away. "Please… don't." I knew my mother was talking to me, but everything was rushing inside my head and all I could hear was Lore's taunting. Didja miss me? Play nice, little bird. I couldn't help it; I started sobbing.
Mom's hands left my face almost immediately, and she drew me back into a hug, holding me so I couldn't flail. "Zoe, sweetie, you're home. You're safe. Zoe, hon, it's Mom. You're safe."
I don't know how long she kept repeating those phrases, but eventually I calmed down. "I'm okay now," I said. "I'm sorry."
"What happened?"
"He… he held my face... after we materialized. He held my face, and he squeezed. God, Mom. Data kissed me this morning and I was fine, but you touch me, and I freak out. What's wrong with me?"
My mother's earlier happiness had completely evaporated, and she was looking at me with so much sadness it almost hurt. "You were raped," she said simply.
I let her pull me into another hug.
(=A=)
Stardate 45140.42
(Wednesday, 21 February 2368, 09:30 hours, ship's time)
The meeting had originally been scheduled for eight, but after I'd experienced another night of restless sleep punctuated by nightmares, Counselor Troi had taken one look at me, and rescheduled it for nine-thirty. We'd spent a couple of hours just talking the night before, and then another half hour was dedicated to making sure I'd be prepared.
Once again, I was seated between Data and the counselor at the conference table near the bridge, only my mother was also present. I hadn't wanted her there, but she'd insisted, and I was learning – slowly – to pick my battles. Doctor Crusher was also there, but Geordi and Commander Riker were not.
We had all been served cups of fragrant Earl Grey tea, at the captain's suggestion. Apparently by the time you're in charge of a starship, you also know that awkward conversations are easier when people have something to do with their hands.
Or, maybe he just liked the tea and wanted everyone else to get hooked on it, too.
"Miss Harris," he began, and then, evidently remembering the last time we'd had any kind of interaction, corrected it to a very gentle, "Zoe…" He sipped some of his tea, then continued, "I'm certain you're getting tired of hearing this, but, how are you feeling?"
"Honestly?" I asked, and he nodded. "Yesterday, all I wanted to do was sleep. Everything I eat tastes like sand, and I'm really sore. I mean, I know all the broken bones and stuff were fixed, but I just… I feel like everything is sharp and prickly, and I've been having nightmares and… and flashbacks." I took a beat, "That was probably way more than you wanted to know, wasn't it?"
"Not at all," he assured, and though his voice was rough, there was a hint of warmth in his eyes.
"What Zoe's experiencing is actually quite typical for anyone who has survived a trauma," Troi said, though I could tell she meant the words for me, because she added, "All of those things will start to fade in time," and met my eyes.
The captain nodded. "The counselor is correct, Zoe." I don't know why, but I got the impression he was speaking from experience. "I sincerely hope the process is a speedy one for you. However, you're here this morning because we need you to make an official statement. You were kidnapped while acting as a civilian volunteer on a Starfleet mission. In addition, you are technically a minor child…"
I cut him off. "Excuse me, sir, but I'm not a child – I'm over sixteen – and legally, I'm not exactly a minor, either."
"Zoe?" the question came from Data.
My mother started to speak, but sat back, apparently deciding it should come from me. I think some part of her was still stuck in our conversation from the day before. I leaned forward slightly and explained, "My paperwork came through while I was… away. Retroactively to a start date of February 1st, I am an emancipated minor. I didn't know until this morning. None of us were paying particular attention to stuff like that."
"An order of emancipation means that Zoe has the legal right to determine her own medical care without parental oversight. As well, she is allowed to live on her own, accept employment, and essentially claim all the rights and privileges of legal adulthood except in regard to controlled substances and the right to vote." Data's explanation was brief, for him, but covered the essentials.
"I see," Captain Picard said. "I'm not certain Starfleet will understand the distinction, but we have included student volunteers on similar missions before, and I have no reason to believe your participation in the intended mission on Melona is an issue."
"Zoe, what we need now is for you to take us through what happened, from the moment you were taken to the moment Data found you."
"I was kind of foggy for a lot of it," I explained, "It started when we all left the caves the morning after the Crystalline Entity trashed Melona. Data said that since I wasn't physically injured I would be in the last group going back to the ship, and when I asked if I could do anything he asked me to keep doing what I already was – keeping the kids calm."
"Commander Riker and Mr. Data both mentioned that you handled yourself, and the children, exceptionally well," the captain observed.
"Zoe, why don't you skip ahead to when you were actually taken," the counselor suggested.
I nodded then explained how Charlie Simmons had been complaining he needed to pee, and I'd run after him to bring him back to the group. I talked about feeling disconnected, and everything being a blur, and being grabbed by someone wearing heavy black clothing. I told them about arriving in the cargo bay on the ship, and Lore kissing me.
"Zoe," Dr. Crusher's voice was gentle and cool, like fresh water. "Can you tell us how you hurt your head, and how your wrist was fractured?"
"The first was accidental," I said. I closed my eyes and relived it for them. Lore's taunts, being told to sit at conn, the ship's gravity being unstable and me tumbling down the stairs. "My wrist… that was Lore, but I don't remember if it was before or after he threw me against the bulkhead." I heard my mother gasp, and I winced, but I couldn't look at her. "He asked for my comm-badge and I wasn't willing to give it to him."
"Asked?" my mother's brows were arched in disbelief.
"Well, I'm pretty sure he thought he was asking."
"You should have just handed it over," she said.
"Oh, sure…now you tell me…" I was snarking so that I wouldn't have to admit she was right. "It wasn't in the hand he broke, anyway. I dropped it after that, and he kicked it away."
"Much of what you are describing makes it seem as though your abduction by Lore was largely unplanned," Captain Picard observed.
"I agree, sir," Data responded. "I believe Lore recognized Zoe and grabbed her without giving it real thought."
"He definitely hadn't read Kidnapping for Dummies," I quipped. "Also, as a supervillain, he leaves a lot to be desired. No helmet, no cape… not even awesome body armor." My mother was glaring at me, but the doctor and the counselor were both hiding grins. I addressed the Captain. "I'm sorry, I know I sound really glib, and I'm not, I swear, it's just… sarcasm's kind of my first language, and making it funny makes it less… real."
"We all have our own defense mechanisms, Zoe," the counselor assured me. "Some of us internalize everything, others prefer to break things." I got the impression the first part was a sort of dig at the captain.
"He… he said my mouth would get me in trouble one day."
"Lore said that?" Was my mother smirking at me?
"The first time… on the Starbase last year. Anyway, he wasn't… he wasn't wrong. Everything he did… it was my fault."
"I doubt that's true, Zoe," the captain said, not unkindly. "Can you take us through the time you spent with Lore? Be as detailed as you can."
I squinched my eyes closed, thinking about some of those details, but then I opened them again, and nodded. "I can try. Some of it… some of it's pretty graphic… I mean… he grabbed me by the hair and threw me into the bathroom at least once." I felt myself getting queasy just from the memory. "It smelled like ammonia and chlorine, and it made my eyes sting, and I'm pretty sure I threw up, but at least there was water." I opened my eyes and glanced at Data. "I was kind of wishing I hadn't let the kids eat all the candy hearts."
"I will replicate more for you when we are through here," he promised.
I flashed him a grin, but then I refocused on the statement I was supposed to be making. I centered my attention, not on the captain or my mother, or even on Data – especially not on Data – but instead on the tea in my cup. The milk was starting to separate from the rest of the liquid, and the slow eddies were oddly calming.
I took them through the remainder of my three days with Lore as well as I could. Telling it made me realize that I'd been unconscious for a lot longer than I'd realized at the time, which scared me a little. At the same time, getting everything out...that part was oddly cathartic. I knew, intellectually, that one meeting wasn't going to fix everything, but it made me feel a bit better in the moment.
As I talked, the counselor and the doctor interrupted me with questions to help me stay focused: What was Lore doing? How did I feel? Did he seem agitated?
"Zoe, when I found you, and you told me that Lore had raped you…" Data cut in with a question of his own and hearing him ask nearly killed me. His voice was usually so well-modulated, so controlled, but I heard the subtle quaver as he asked his question. "…you said it was your fault, then. I wish to remind you that it was not your fault. I do not understand why you believe that it was. Can you elaborate?"
I stared at him. I didn't want him to know that I'd been as cruel as Lore, in my own way, hurling horrible words at him. I opened my mouth to answer, and suddenly I was back on the ship, back with Lore, right after he'd licked my neck… and Phil was pulsing on the viewer.
"You used to be afraid of me," he says. "Don't get me wrong, little bird, I know you're afraid I'll hurt you again – and I can't deny it does something to me when you cry – but our banter…it's losing its spark, don't you think? It was so much better when it was charged with fear. Now…now you taste of…" He uses my hair to tug my head backward, and then he licks my neck. "Pity," he seems to decide. "You pity me."
"Shouldn't I?" I challenge. "You have what Data's always wanted, not just emotion, but actual memories of your 'childhood' with Dr. Soong. You have a brother who craves the same things you do: connection, belonging, acceptance, family. And what do you do? You kill everyone you've ever known. You murder your own father. You do everything possible to drive Data away from you. You are all alone."
"It got worse from there," I said, but I couldn't see Data or my mother, or anyone else at that point. I just had Lore and Phil in my head.
"Everything was vibrating. I could see Phil oscillating and the ship was shaking, and Lore was getting so… he was connected to it… to Phil. He screamed at me, and he threw me against the wall, and then was pinning me, holding my hands above my head, and it hurt. He… he kissed me, but it was… if a kiss could be a form of assault, that's what he did. He was tearing at my clothes - shredding them - and Phil was cycling faster and faster and there was this sort of electronic whining sound like sirens mixed with razor blades and…" I was sobbing, caught in the memory. "And he bit me. Through my bra. Hard."
Dimly, I heard my mother ask, "Who is Phil?"
"It was what Lore called the Crystalline Entity," Data explained softly. I'd shared that bit of information with him that at some point. "He told Zoe it 'looked like' it should be called Phil."
I felt a hand on my back – the counselor's. My mother had left her chair and come to stand behind me, and Data was holding my left hand, his thumb making calming circles on it.
"You can stop now, if you want," my mother said.
"Actually, it's better if she finishes. Zoe, take a deep breath." Counselor Troi's voice was soothing, and Data's hand, holding mine, helped center me. I did as she asked. "Good now another."
After several such breaths I was ready to go on. "Could I just finish now, without any more questions? Please?"
"Alright," Troi answered. I noticed that she made eye contact with everyone else in the room, as if confirming that they'd all just let me talk.
Mom returned to her chair, and the counselor let go of me. I could feel Data start to withdraw his hand, but I squeezed it, and he nodded slightly and tightened his own grip.
I started talking again, trying hard to keep my voice low and soft. "Lore kept saying he couldn't have nice things. He said he was going to have the first fuck, and that Pigeon – that's me – was gonna get slammed." Tears were flowing freely, but I kept going. "He… my head was against the bulkhead, and he… he used his fingers, through my underwear, and then… then it wasn't his fingers, and Phil was like a disco-ball snowflake on the viewer and the light was all weird and the ship was vibrating, and… and he… finished at the same time Phil exploded… or… shattered… or…. whatever."
"'Pretty bird,'" I sing-songed Lore's last words to me, lost in the memory again. "'Poor broken Pigeon. Lore can't have nice things.' He was… he was horrified… just before he left. He looked like he was horrified, and grief-stricken… and then he was blank. He kicked the comm-badge back toward me, and opened up his thumb, and disappeared." I turned to Data. "So, you see… it was my fault. He raped me… and I broke him, and I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" I was sobbing again. I couldn't help it. I pushed my chair away from the table, the urge to bolt from the room too strong to ignore.
But Data was still holding my hand, and when I started to move he spoke my name, and reminded me with quiet intensity, "You promised not to run from me. Do not run from this either. You have done nothing wrong. It was not your fault. You are home, and you are safe."
I could feel everyone else watching us. My mother was leaning forward in her chair. From the corner of my eye I saw the captain set his teacup down. I heard the tell-tale sound of a tricorder being opened and activated, and I felt the counselor's hand on the back of my chair.
"Zoe," she said softly. "Look at Data. Listen to him."
I already was, but I pulled my hand from his so that I could turn my chair and look directly at him.
He held out his hand for mine, and I met him half way, restoring contact. His voice was still very low when he spoke again. "You know that I do not lie, Zoe. It was not your fault. Do you understand me?"
"But…" I wanted to believe him. Intellectually, I knew he was right, but emotionally I was a mess, I'd lost track of which way was up.
"Zoe, I do not lie, and I am telling you that it was not your fault. You are not to blame. You did not cause Lore to rape you, and you are not responsible for anything that happened to him."
I turned away from that level, golden gaze, and looked at our clasped hands. A flash of memory surfaced… a memory from New Year's Eve at Surfside, when I'd explained to Data about following the leash to the surface after a wipeout in white water. Our hands – the connection we shared – that was my leash.
"Zoe, Data's right. It wasn't your fault. Can you repeat that for me?" Counselor Troi's voice was just behind me, soothing me almost as much as Data's did.
"It wasn't my fault," I said softly. "It wasn't my fault."
"Zoe, can you tell me how you're feeling?" Counselor Troi asked.
"Scared," I answered after a couple of breaths. "And stupid. And… god… exhausted."
"That's normal. That's all very normal," Troi said.
"Zoe, sweetie, as soon as we're done, we'll go home, and you can rest." I nodded absently. My mother meant well, but I didn't want to go back to our quarters and put a damper on her happiness. Her worry for me was palpable.
Captain Picard cleared his throat, and we all turned back to him. "I can see no reason to keep Zoe and Commander Harris here. Zoe, I am very sorry for all you endured, and I promise you that when we find Lore he will be dealt with to the fullest extent the law allows. I would like you to consider that you did the one thing you absolutely had to do in your situation." He waited a beat, and added looking directly at me, "You survived."
I managed a weak, watery smile. "Thank you."
"This meeting is adjourned," he said. I got the feeling he was trying not to use too much 'fleet jargon around me.
(=A=)
Stardate 45145.99
(Friday, 23 February 2368, 10:27 hours, ship's time)
"I want to punch things." I swung my right hand, still swaddled in its pink and black cast, through the air. "I don't even know what I want to punch. I just want to punch things." It was my fifth session with Counselor Troi in as many days. "I mean, I'm not a violent person, really, but I just… I want to hit things. I want to see things bleed."
If my dark mood disturbed the counselor, she didn't let on. "To be honest, Zoe," she began, "I'd be more concerned if you didn't want to lash out at things."
"Really?" I wanted to believe her.
"Really. Lore took away your power, your control. Punching things, making them… bleed… those are ways you can be the one in control."
I fidgeted on her couch. I'd been sitting cross-legged in the center of it, but I unfolded my legs and pushed myself further back on the bench-seat, then crossed my right leg over my left at the knee. "How do I make it stop?"
"Well, you could meditate, or spend some time in the ship's spa…"
"My brain's too jittery to meditate. The spa is only fun when there's someone to go with you, and anyway, I don't want to end up being one of those people who starts weeping out a confessional the minute the masseuse goes to work." I shivered. "Besides, the thought of anyone touching me…"
The counselor's dark eyes focused on my face. "Anyone?"
"Mom keeps trying to hug me and it makes me feel like I'm suffocating. She… she keeps looking at me with this expression of sadness, as if I'm some fragile, broken thing living inside her daughter's skin, and it's making me itch, and then I feel bad because she and Ed just got engaged, and she should be happy, not worrying about me." I took a beat. "Also, I cannot take enough showers. I scrub and I scrub, but I never feel clean."
"Has having your bathroom fitted for water helped at all?" They'd done that while I was speaking with the counselor on Monday or Tuesday. I'd spent a lot of the first couple days home sleeping. Half the time I hadn't even been tired, as much as it was just easier to stay in bed and avoid people asking me how I was feeling.
"A little. The water's never hot enough. The pressure's never hard enough."
"You sound like you want to be punished."
"Maybe I do."
"We agreed it wasn't your fault. Do you remember? Every day this week, Zoe, I've reminded you of this. Data reminded you of this. He can't lie…"
"Yes, he can." She looked up sharply. "Oh, come on," I continued. "He can lie. It's difficult for him because his ethics program gets in the way, but he can, if he has to."
"Alright, but he doesn't lie, as a rule, and I don't believe he would ever lie to you."
I averted my eyes. "No," I mumbled. "I guess not."
"So, if Data says it wasn't your fault…?"
"But it doesn't work like that. Data – you – Mom – none of you are the arbiters of fault. And even if it isn't my fault, I still feel guilty, because… because I didn't stop him. I should have tried harder to stop him."
"You had a head injury, broken ribs, and a broken wrist. Lore is an android, one who has no compunctions about harming humanoids. What could you have done?"
"I could've tried harder to get to his power-switch," I blurted. "I should have tried again."
The counselor – I hadn't thought of her as Deanna since I'd been going through this - I needed the separation, I think – made her expression and her tone firm. "If you had made another attempt, Lore might have killed you."
"I don't think…" I started to say that I didn't think he would actually do such a thing, but then, I'd managed to convince myself he'd never commit rape, as well. "Yeah, probably," I agreed reluctantly. "God, I'm a mess."
She smiled at me, her soft smile. "Not really. You're handling every well, all things considered. But it hasn't even been a week, and most experts would tell you that the first week after a trauma – any trauma, not just rape – is about damage control."
"Damage control? You mean, like, making sure I'm not going to off myself in the bathroom when things get bad?"
"Yes, Zoe… things like that." Her tone was deadly serious.
"You don't have to worry. I'm not the suicidal type. It's too much like giving up. If I kill myself, Lore wins." I took a beat, then added ruefully, "I still want to punch things, though."
That elicited a grin. "Good. Your anger is good. You're going to need it."
I sighed. "I guess. But how do I stop feeling guilty?"
The counselor was silent for a long moment. When she spoke again, she asked, "Why do you think you feel guilty, Zoe? Aside from speaking some harsh words, what could be causing your guilt?"
"I think it's because… because I hadn't really been aware of Data as a…a potential lover…until after I met Lore. In another life, if I'd made a different choice – if he'd made a different choice – I could have ended up leaving the starbase with him, that first time. For a moment… for a brief moment… I think I might have been a little attracted to him."
I gulped air and then resettled myself and continued. "There are – were – flashes of a different person in him sometimes. Mostly he used humor to disarm, to distract so he could slide in the proverbial knife, but he could be pretty engaging when he wanted to, and there's a part of me – a part that's starting to diminish – that wonders - that may always wonder - what would have happened if I'd said something else."
"Do you believe that things would have ended differently?"
"No. Not really."
"Do you believe that you deserved the bruises and broken bones Lore gave you?"
"No, of course not."
"Do you believe you deserved to be raped?"
"No one deserves that," I answered softly. "No one."
"Zoe, rape isn't about sex; do you understand that?"
"It is sex," I said, confused. She didn't usually let me loop this far. "Isn't it?"
"No," she said, and she moved to sit next to me on the couch. "Rape is about power and control. If you could have stopped him, would you?"
"I tried to stop him," I said. "I tried to… he was so heavy, and he was holding my hands, and my wrist hurt, and I tried, and then he was ripping my underwear… and… I couldn't stop him. And it hurt, and he was laughing and…." Already crying, I felt myself starting to hyperventilate, and then I felt a hand on my back. "DON'T!" I pulled away from her.
"Zoe, calm down," Troi must've said it several times before I really heard it. "Calm down. It's alright. You're on the Enterprise. You're safe here. You're alright."
She was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, giving me space, and I hadn't even realized she'd moved away from me. "Oh, god, Counselor Troi, I'm sorry. God. Am I going to be all jumpy and flashback-y forever?"
"No, I'm sorry," she said. "You mentioned that you were uncomfortable being touched, and I forgot when I tried to comfort you. And no, as I've said, all of this will fade. It hasn't even been a week."
I nodded. "Could I have a glass of water, please?"
"Of course." She got up to get it, and then sat back down next to me. "You didn't seem to mind holding Data's hand in the meeting with Captain Picard the other morning. And you didn't object to me touching you then. Was it because you expected contact?"
"Pretty much," I said, answering her second question first, and then adding, softly, "The only person whose touch doesn't freak me out right now is Data… and believe me, I know how weird that seems."
"Weird?" she asked, "Why do you think so? Zoe, he's your lover, you should be comfortable with him touching you."
"He's not, actually. I mean… I've been spending weekend nights in his bed, but we haven't… We almost did, but then we got interrupted, and then we were on Melona, and then…" I trailed off, took a couple of deep breaths, and then started over. "You can't tell me it it's not weird that the one person whose touch doesn't freak me out is the person who is the essential twin of the man who raped me?"
Troi's voice was calm and warm. "First of all, Zoe, whether or not you and Data technically consummated your relationship is irrelevant. If you were close enough to be interrupted, you are lovers, and anyway, it's more about intimacy than actual sex."
I turned slightly toward her in an attempt to be more receptive to what she was saying.
"And second, I can, and I will, tell you that there's nothing weird about seeking comfort and solace from him. The two of you share a very special connection. It was special when you were first becoming friends, and it's even more so now. I know you love him very deeply. He's made his devotion to you abundantly clear."
That was true. Data had stayed with me in sickbay, not letting go of my hand, and he'd stayed in my room until I fell asleep almost every night since I'd been back on the ship, much to my mother's discomfort (at first) and amusement (by the third day). I was pretty sure he was responsible for the mods to the shower, as well, though technically Mom's promotion the previous year might have warranted it.
I managed a watery smile. "That's true. He's been very… present. He always is. Sometimes it's almost like he needs to be the one who helps me through this."
"He does," the counselor agreed. "And he needs to get through it, as well. Helping you will help him."
I nodded. "That makes sense, it just feels like it's a lot to throw at him when even basic emotional responses confuse him. I'm all… off-kilter and strange and one minute I feel like nothing happened, and the next minute I'm a basket case, and underlying it all is wanting him." I laughed, and added, "And then I'm back to the need to hit things."
"About that," Troi said. "Maybe you should consider adding something a little more physical to your routine for a while. Swimming is wonderful, and I know you love the water, but… consider a self-defense class, or a novice-level martial art course. Many of the security officers offer them."
"I thought you wanted me to relax it all away?"
"That's one direction. But taking action is more your style, and I think you might find the ability to protect yourself to be rather empowering. I know I do."
"You do?"
She grinned. "Starfleet requires basic self-defense no matter your specialty, but since I've been on the ship, I've been taking Worf's Mok'bara class. It's been incredibly… empowering."
"You want me to learn Mok'bara?"
"I want you to find a physical outlet. Ask Data. Let him put his research skills to work finding the perfect martial art for you."
"About Data…"
"What is it, Zoe?"
"It's Friday. I'm pretty sure my mother expects me not to spend this weekend with him, but even though I've seen him every day, we haven't really had any privacy, and… and I miss that intimacy. Even if we're just watching a vid together, when it's just us, it's different. I feel more centered. And… and I'm going a little stir-crazy, even though today's the first day I've really wanted to do much more than read and sleep and watch sappy vids between showers." I grinned to show her I was kidding, mostly.
"If you and Data have a regular routine, and you're comfortable being alone with him, then you should attempt your routine. If it's too much for you, and you need to return to your mother's quarters, just tell him."
"What if I have a meltdown like I did in that meeting? What if I find out I can't be alone with him, after all? I don't like to disappoint him. And I promised I wouldn't run from him again."
"I don't think explaining that things are too intense and then leaving counts as 'running,' Zoe. Not right now. Just be honest with him."
"I really wish you could just snap your fingers and make me be 'better.'"
"I wish so, too. Sadly, I can't. But you're stronger than you think you are, and when you can't be strong any more, you have your mother and Data and me, and a lot of other people who are here to support you."
"Thank you," I said.
"You're welcome." She stood up, signaling the end of our session, and I did as well. "When do you get the cast removed from your hand?"
"First thing Monday morning, and I can't wait. I haven't been able to play my cello – I guess that gives Data three hours of free time tomorrow – and I've had to have help with my hair and getting dressed. It's been a hassle."
"I can imagine," she said, her tone full of affectionate humor. Well, I'd spent a lot of our first session complaining about it. "Let's try something? Let's try not meeting again until after your cast is removed. If you need me over the weekend, you can call me, of course, but…"
"No," I said. "I get it. I think… I think it's time to start facing the world… or at least Data's quarters and maybe the arboretum."
"Good." I turned to leave, but she called my name again. "Zoe…"
"Yes?"
"I know it doesn't seem like it, but you will get through this… you're already a lot closer to the Zoe we all know and love than you were even two days ago. Give yourself time."
"I'll try," I said. "Thank you."
(=A=)
Stardate 45147.50
(Friday, 23 February 2368, 23:39 hours, ship's time)
"Zoe, if you are this tired, perhaps you should go to bed." Data had been playing something for me on his guitar, and I had begun drifting away on the music.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm still not sleeping well. Your playing was lovely, and I really enjoyed spending the evening with you. I've missed us."
"As have I." He set the instrument aside and joined me on the couch. "If you still wish to learn guitar, we can begin when your cast is removed."
I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around his middle. My cast was probably heavy against his abdomen, but he didn't seem to mind. "I'd like that," I said. "I probably won't even complain about the next ten etudes, I'm that itchy to make music. I'm even looking forward to Jessie torturing me with one of her evil vocal warm-ups."
"You have been remarkably patient during this past week," he observed.
"Not really. I had a fight with Mom about going back to class yesterday. Well, more like an intense discussion. She said I could resume going to class when I slept through the night without having a nightmare. I said I'd end up an uneducated idiot. She threatened to ask you to tutor me. I used words that would make you say, 'Language, Zoe.' But by then I was too exhausted to care, so she won by default."
"I am sorry you are still experiencing nightmares."
"They're less intense when you're there, but I know you won't – can't – always be there. And even if you could be, I need to learn how to deal with them myself, until they go away. I try to do the lucid dreaming exercises the counselor gave me, but…"
I could tell he had just been accessing information on lucid dreaming, because he finished my sentence for me. "…but that skill assumes that you are not already operating at a sleep deficit."
"Pretty much," I agreed, punctuating my sentence with a yawn.
Data nuzzled my hair and kissed the top of my head. "We are here together tonight. Perhaps you will be able to 'catch up' on some of the sleep you have missed."
"About that…"
"If you do not feel comfortable with resuming our physical intimacy –"
"It's not that," I said, cutting him off. "God, don't you know? Don't you know how much I want you… how much I still want you? Even after? And I know… I know it's too soon, but you're… you're you." I stopped. Fatigue was making my thoughts come unraveled. "It actually makes me feel better when you're physically demonstrative with me, because it's normal. Normal for us, I mean. And I know why you've been so careful about asking me before you touch me, but honestly, it's a little annoying, and even if you ask I might still… I mean, my mother held my face the other day, and that made me flash back. Just… please understand that if I freak out or lash out, it's not really you and it doesn't last long."
"There is something else that discomfits you, with regard to spending the night, then?"
"It's silly… I mean, it's truly silly."
"Perhaps. But if you do not tell me, I cannot help."
"I can't unhook my bra. With the cast on."
"You are embarrassed to ask for assistance?"
"I told you it was silly. Especially considering what we were doing two weeks ago."
His response was to hold me a little bit closer. "It is not silly. And I will gladly help you." He released his hold on me. "Go prepare for bed. I will join you in a moment."
Reluctantly, I pulled away from him, though I leaned back in to capture his lips in a kiss. "Thank you for being you, Data."
I left the couch before he could formulate a response and went through the bedroom to the bathroom. The weekend before Melona, I'd actually claimed a shelf in his medicine cabinet and left a toothbrush and a few other personal items, so I wouldn't have to cart them back and forth.
My shoes had long since been discarded, so I skinned out of my jeans and socks, and managed to pull off my shirt as well. Standing in Data's bathroom in my underwear, I caught the scent of chemical cleanser – the room had recently been cleaned – but it was nothing like the eye-watering scent in Lore's ship, so I tried to shrug it off. I washed away my make-up, and in my tired state I imagined I could see Lore's fingerprints on my throat.
"…my marks are on your creamy skin…" Lore's voice echoed in my head.
"No." I said the word to my reflection in the mirror. "No," I repeated, reaching for my toothbrush. I began brushing my teeth, but the bristles caught on my tongue stud.
"You're wearing my piercing, and my marks are on your creamy skin."
The stud wasn't Lore's but the hole in my tongue had been his doing. Why had I kept it? Wasn't it an insult to my relationship with Data?
"You're wearing my piercing."
"NO!"
"Zoe?" I heard Data's voice outside the bathroom door. "Zoe what is wrong?"
I dropped the toothbrush and reached for the stud in my tongue. It was completely removable. All I had to do was twist. I tried, but the cast on my right hand limited the use of my fingers. If I couldn't unhook my own bra, I couldn't take out the stud. "I have to get it out," I said. "I have to…"
"Zoe, may I come in?" I looked at the door. It wasn't locked. Why would I lock it against Data? I retreated to the back wall of the bathroom, to the space between the toilet and the shower stall, and I slid down the wall until I was crouched on the floor. "Zoe I am coming in!"
The door whooshed open, and Data came through, not in a burst, but in a single smooth motion. He had, I noticed, used the time I was in the bathroom to change into pajama bottoms. In the back of my mind, I registered that I liked rumpled, half-dressed Data. "Zoe, what is wrong?" He dropped to his knees in front of me. "Please tell me."
"I have to get it out…" I said. I wasn't crying. I felt eerily disconnected from myself, actually. "Please? I have to get it out! He… he made the hole. He made me not whole." I knew I wasn't making sense.
Data managed to understand me anyway. "You wish to remove your tongue stud?" His question was softly spoken, but to the point.
I nodded. "Please?"
He stood up and washed his hands. Then he pulled me to my feet. "Open your mouth," he said, sounding a lot like a dentist. "Stick out your tongue." My altered state began to shift toward normalcy, and I managed a watery grin before I complied with his requests.
His hands were gentle. One twist, and the jewelry was removed.
"Thank you." I closed my mouth and watched while he washed and dried his hands again. Then I kissed him. It wasn't as tentative as our very first kiss had been, nor was it as heated as many of our more recent exchanges, but my tongue flirted with his, and when the taste of him, the sweet, cashew essence of him, penetrated my awareness I put my hands on his waist for a change, holding for a moment, then running them up and down his sides.
It was the first time we'd shared a kiss without a piece of metal in my tongue.
He pulled me closer, breaking the kiss to hug me, to hold me. "You are 'whole,' Zoe," he said softly. "Do you believe me?" I nodded against his chest. "Come with me."
"I'm so tired."
"I know. Come." He led me to the bed, to my side of it, and he pulled back the covers. "Sit down." The pajama top I usually wore to bed when I was with him had been laid out for me already. He moved it aside and sat next to me. "I am going to remove your bra now." His fingers were cool against my skin as he worked the clasps with deft efficiency, and then he was sliding the straps from my shoulders, and my breasts were exposed to him.
"Data?"
He kissed my bare shoulder. "You were having a flashback, were you not?"
"Yes. Lore was… he said I wore his marks, his piercing. And I thought… god… I shouldn't have kept it."
"I understand why you needed it then; I also understand why it was suddenly urgent that you remove it."
I turned my head so that I could look into his warm yellow eyes. "Am I?" I asked him softly. "Am I wearing his marks? Do they show?"
Something seemed to shift inside him, and he slid off the edge of the bed to kneel in front of me. Two weeks before, we'd been in a similar position and had been about to… "This is not about sex," Data said, as if reading my thoughts. "May I touch you?"
"Yes." I should have been annoyed that he asked; instead, I was moved.
"If anything I do makes you uncomfortable, you must tell me, and I will stop."
I nodded. I was tired, so tired, but I was curious, too. "Yes."
He kissed my lips, and then he kissed the hollow of my throat. He ghosted barely-felt kisses across each of my breasts. He placed a kiss over my navel, and then breathed kisses over my fingertips. His lips whispered on either side of my neck, back to my lips and then to the center of my forehead.
He had been correct; nothing he did was about sex. Instead, it was about trust, and acceptance, and reclamation. When he was done, I felt as though my soul had been cleansed.
"Data?" I held out the pajama top I'd snatched when he'd cast it aside. "Could you?"
"Yes." He helped me into the blue cotton shirt, and fastened it closed. "Lie down. I will join you in a moment." I relaxed onto the bed, facing into the middle, and he moved to the other side of the bed, mirroring my position. Covers were pulled up; lights were extinguished.
Under the shelter of darkness, I said, "Data… I may not quite feel entirely whole, but until my tongue heals, and especially after that little ritual, I'm pretty sure I'm holy."
It was a bad pun. Anyone else would have groaned. Data did not, of course. Instead, his hand went to my hip, squeezing lightly, and then releasing, though he let it rest there. "And I," he said, "am wholly devoted to you."
I smiled into the darkness, delighted by his candor and his attempt to match my silliness after all the seriousness that came before. "I love you," I told him.
I wish I could say that I spent that night free from nightmares. I didn't, but every time I woke, Data was there to soothe my nighttime terror away, and after the third bad dream, I finally found the deep, restful sleep-state that I needed.
Notes: First, if you haven't already, check out my one-shot "Devoted" for Data's side of "Silicon Avatar" and chapter 17 (also non-explicit). Just as in that piece, Data is playing "Prelude #4 in A-Minor," by Francisco Tárrega.
Second, yes, this was incredibly angsty, but the first week after any trauma is more about damage control – about picking up the pieces – than anything else. Zoe has a lot of healing left, and bad dreams, flashbacks, etc., are going to be popping up for a while, but this is fiction, so it's not going to be quite so…concentrated.