WARNING: for a conversation that considers assault. There wasn't any, but some of the characters don't know that.

Sorry. This is a rough one. It will all get fixed in the end, feel free to wait until I've written that part.

She'd been crying. Chapel could tell from the brief glimpse she got of her expression, startled relief stilling the hands that had been savagely yanking her braids out before it twisted into something… different, darker, snapping away to begin gathering up scattered clothing in tight, unbalanced motions. There was the jacket Erica had mentioned, pants that might have been regulation, something black with long sleeves that La'an definitely didn't own. All of it could have come from ship's stores, but…

"Where did you get those?"

It wasn't perhaps the best opening question, but Chapel was closer now, close enough to watch La'an spin away, bundling the clothes against her chest, and the smell was unmistakeable. Formaldehyde. No one had used that on clothing in a century.

"Those aren't from here. Where did you get them?"

"Nowhere."

Nowhere. Whole 21st century vibe going on. Erica had been right, La'an did look lost. And frightened. She stuffed the bundle into the closet, snatching something fresh out before she sealed the door, turned only to flinch at Chapel's proximity.

"Hey."

But La'an didn't soften, pulling away from her, expression unreadable. There was something really wrong here. Something…

"I'm fine. I'm…" La'an motioned jerkily towards the shower, dragging at her hair with unsteady hands. They were clammy, or the braids wouldn't be resisting.

Chapel took a step closer. Watched La'an practically press herself into the wall. What the… "You're afraid of me."

"I'm not. I'm just…"

"Hey, stop." Chapel reached out, just far enough to prevent her from disappearing. "Since when are you afraid of me?"

"Since you left!"

La'an clearly hadn't meant to say it. The words hung between them, crystallising in the strangely tinted air. Since she left? When had she… Oh. Oh crap. "I'm so sorry."

La'an's head shook in a motion Chapel recognised, eerily familiar, tight and sharp like Santiago, her eyes finally meeting Chapel's to expose a sea of seething, untapped fear. No. Don't go there. Only they had to. Chapel had died. And she hadn't been the only one to disappear.

"We left you. We both left you, and I haven't…" La'an would have needed to feel it, to work through it, but she couldn't do those things alone and Chapel had been flattened and frightened and then so relieved to be alive, a fragile happiness that everyone expected to crack. Had refused any kind of assistance. And Una… The captain had thrown a party. "I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I just…" She'd been too wrapped up in herself. Like she always was. "Here. Come here."

It shouldn't have been possible for La'an to get further into the wall, but she managed it. No. "I'm fine." She looked dragged raw, a tearing mess of shock and grief and emotional exhaustion, and she'd been somewhere, come back smelling of formaldehyde, of sodium lauryl sulphate, which had been banned from soap before 2100, which Chapel used to denature proteins in the lab.

"What's happened? Where have you been?" It didn't matter. Why should it matter when La'an's face was crumpling, when she looked like she couldn't breathe. "It's ok. Hey, it's ok. You're safe. You can feel it. You feel it and then it can pass. You know this. Nothing's going to break." Chapel reached for her, watched her hold perfectly still. No. But there had been relief, that first instant. The door still opened. "It's ok. Just let me help."

No. "You're…

A disaster. Or she had been, for months. Years, really. A lifetime, if you counted that far. "Fine. Really. I can call doctor Rilak, any time."

"You won't."

"I will. I promise." Tomorrow. This evening, if that was what it took. Your own sanity comes first. How many people had told her that? How often had she decided they were wrong? Well that was ending now, because none of this could stand. "I've got this. I love you. You can let me."

It took a long moment before La'an drew in a breath, less choice than reflex as everything started to work. "I can't. I'm…"

Can't what? She didn't just mean feel this, there was something else, but what did it even matter? How were their lives always such a mess?

"You just breathe. Everything else comes later. It's ok." Only it wasn't. She wasn't. Chapel knew grief on this face, knew something about this felt fresh. What the hell had happened to her? She had marks on her neck, lines of reddening bruises. "You're not alone. You're never going to be alone. I promise, we'll work this out." Chapel drew her closer slowly, careful not to hold too tight, because while the pressure would help it also came with that moment of letting go, that moment La'an routinely couldn't bear. Better, for once in her ridiculous life, to be cautious. "I'm here, everyone's here, you're safe."

"I can't… People…"

People left. People died. Everyone always had. It was some cruelly cosmic miracle this woman was even sane. How many deaths had she witnessed? How many more could she bear? How had Chapel become one of them and never stopped to realise? She hugged La'an closer, tighter, because damn caution, she would just never, ever let go. "I love you. I love you. Just like this, all of it. You're going to feel this, and you're going to survive it, and then we're going to work out how you live. I promise, nothing's going to break."

It felt as if it might as La'an crumbled, sobbing jaggedly, gripping tight enough it ached until everything finally, mercifully loosened, like it always did. Like it always would, because La'an Noonien-Singh was indestructible. An incandescent blowtorch to reality's vista of pain. She smelled of sulphates and formaldehyde, and jasmine, somewhere, underneath. I love you. Like a gaping wound, like the end of the universe, an overriding endless longing that was never going to fade, that lit up Chapel's life from the inside. "I love you. I'm never going to leave you alone. It never happens again. I promise. I promise."

It was nonsense, but it didn't have to be. Chapel was going to work out how to make it true. It was going to involve people. Lots of people.

It was going to be a hard sell. But then, nothing could be as hard as this.

0 0 0

Time travel was impossible, Chapel knew that. But somehow, right now, it wouldn't stick. La'an had been covered in marks, but the bruising across her throat had been made by fingers, as though someone had tried to strangle her. Someone strong, with small hands. Someone who didn't exist on this ship. Probably.

The watch wasn't helping matters. Sulphates and formaldehyde, clothes that shouldn't be here, a 21st century vibe, a 21st century watch? Where had they come from? Time travel was impossible. Officially. Only what if it wasn't? What if…

The shower shut off, finally. Chapel had checked it going in, made sure it wasn't cold, but La'an had been in there too long regardless, and that never meant anything good. She looked ragged when she finally came out, wary and tired, expressionless in that way that said everything had turned inwards, and she wouldn't look at Chapel. Not quite.

"I don't… I'm…"

"If you're going to ask me to leave, the answer's no. Not happening. Ok?"

There was a second of tangled silence, then La'an nodded, shuddering in relief as Chapel stood to wrap her back into a hug, stroked her wet hair as she blew out damp, unsteady breaths. They'd been here before, the crying helped. But it felt impossibly cruel. You're not going to break. None of this is going to break. It was true, but it shouldn't have to be. "Do you want me to call Una?"

"No."

No. Chapel had died, but Una had chosen to go. That was going to take a lot of forgiving. "Will you let me fix this?" The bruises were stark over her collar, their redness darkened by the heat.

"You're not my doctor."

What were the chances of her allowing Glenn anywhere near her, looking like this? But it was worth a shot. Maybe… "I can call Marshall." La'an breathed for a moment, gripping Chapel's hands too tight.

"He'll ask questions."

"You don't have to answer them. It won't matter." And he couldn't say anything. Those were the rules.

Sort of.

0 0 0

"I have to ask." Marshall had brought a proper trauma kit; medications, regenerators.

Forensic supplies.

No one here would hurt her. Chapel told herself silently. No one here could best her. Except Una. But Una wouldn't… Her hands were too large, anyway. Probably. And there were the clothes, and the chemicals, and the watch, and…

Something had happened. And Glenn was asking what. And La'an was watching him as if he'd spouted Klingon.

"He's asking who hurt you."

La'an blanked. It was unexpectedly terrifying. "It doesn't matter."

"It does." Marshall had set up on the coffee table, scanned her where she sat on the couch, then stopped. You didn't treat forensic evidence. Really La'an shouldn't have even showered, but Chapel hadn't thought… The room had gone quiet. "If you'd rather have this conversation in private…"

"No." La'an's eyes flashed up suddenly. "Just fix it."

"I will." Marshall was calm, and damn he was good at this. It clearly wasn't his first rodeo. "But I have to ask first, and I need to believe what you're telling me."

"I'm not telling you anything."

She really didn't get it. Of course she didn't. Chapel sat carefully, trying to keep her hands from shaking. "He's asking if it was… if I…" It was surprisingly hard to say, even though she knew she hadn't. She motioned to her throat instead. La'an stared at her, and then she was up in one fluid motion, rising above Marshall as if he'd drawn his last breath, fists ready. He sat entirely still.

"I'm taking that as a no." He held her gaze steadily until she conceded, sinking back onto the couch, then reached to squeeze Chapel's knee. "Sorry. I had to ask."

Chapel nodded, pressed blindly at her eyes. This wasn't about her, but man it was brutal.

"No one here did this, and I can't tell you who did. It doesn't matter."

"It always matters." Marshall insisted quietly.

"It doesn't matter. She's dead, I…" La'an's hands clenched, nails digging into her knees. "It wasn't here. It doesn't matter. Everyone who needs to know, knows. You don't. So fix me, or go."

She'd killed someone, that was what she was saying. Someone who must have been trying to kill her. And all of it was… Marshall hadn't flinched. He paused, taking the information in, then reached for the dermal regenerator. "It's bruising mostly, a couple of scrapes. But the blow to your head did some minor damage to the motor cortex, and considering your profession, your history of head injuries, that's not something I want to ignore. You're going to need the halo. Ten minutes, no more. We do it now, then you're done. It never comes up again."

It was a good thing Chapel wasn't her doctor. Because right now, it was a challenge to even breathe.

0 0 0

It was a nightmare, all of it. Some insidious, impossible dream. Only it wasn't. The cortical damage was real, a glaring neon mess up on the screen. Chapel could barely see it through the blur, tried to blink, to focus, to not let on that any of it was…

Castillo took her shoulder, drew her away from the bed, and she shouldn't have gone, she shouldn't have left her, but your own sanity comes first here. She knew now. She'd promised. And Marshall had drawn up a stool as the halo worked, sat and taken La'an's hand, and she'd let him, and Maia had led her away. Provided tissues. A glass of water.

"What's happened?"

"I don't know." Chapel stared at the table, the instruments in the office, trying to make herself stop crying. This was about La'an. Someone had hurt her. Someone had scared her. Something terrible had happened, and Chapel hadn't been there because… "I died."

Maia took her hand right through the snotty tissues, as if it didn't matter. "You did."

"I never… We didn't talk about it."

"It's a hard thing to talk about."

"I didn't try."

"Or perhaps you were doing your best, and life sucks sometimes, and there's no way of avoiding that."

Chapel let herself breathe for a moment, feeling around that point. "I don't know how to do this."

"No one does. We just fumble around until we find things that work. You love her. That matters. The rest is negotiable." Maia let her go so she could blow her nose, went to find a PADD with access to the patient files. "I'm signing you off, as long as you like, no questions asked. We owe you, from when you died." She held the form out for Chapel to sign. "And came straight back."

Perhaps, in hindsight, that hadn't been the best decision. But it had been the only decision, at the time. The only thing that had felt right. Chapel pressed her thumb to the screen. It was time to find out what happened next. "Thank you."

"Do I need to tell you to talk to someone?"

"No, I've got that covered. Really this time."

"Good. We're here, ok? We're all here."

They were here for La'an too. Chapel just had to get her to see it.

And maybe, after all this, it would take.