Title: Herculean Tasks - Chapter 11 - The Vacuum of Space Isn't Fair

Category: Hurt/Comfort, angst

Pairings: Goddenport

Notes: Set during "New Places, New Faces." CW: Panic attack, mild swearing

Summary: Possible outcomes for their journey raced through T.J.'s mind including many unfavorable ones: ones where not all of them made it home, ones without Seth by her side. Her thoughts collided, and she was unable to voice any of them. She shook her head as he repeated "I've got you," over and over.

Chapter 11: The Vacuum of Space Isn't Fair

Thelma and the students had already returned to the safety of the ship, but Seth's presence remained unaccounted for. Ever vigilant, T.J. remained a few steps away from the airlock as she clutched her flashlight and surveyed the dense forest. The power fence crackled to life, and she squinted through the haze trespassing onto the campsite. The only other movement came from the eerie shadows of the looming vines. Was it her imagination, or was the vegetation creeping closer?

She should have double-checked Seth's spacepack before he ventured off. What if his compass malfunctioned? What if he encountered Spung and his comm signal was too weak to send an SOS? What if the atmosphere wasn't as hospitable as Suzee believed? What kinds of vicious predators lived nearby?

He's lost, he's injured, he's dead.

Fear gripped her and held on tight. She decided to seek refuge from her panic inside the Christa, but when she attempted to close the airlock behind her, the hatch's outer door jammed halfway, inviting anyone and anything to invade their shelter and disturb what little peace was left.

"Bloody hell!" T.J. grappled with the controls in vain as the access crystal glowed red in protest. The memory of Warlord Shank's scepter flashed in her mind, temporarily replacing the orb in front of her. She blinked away the memory of the Spung's weapon as the charged air prickled the hairs on the back of her neck. It was too dense, too hot, too claustrophobic. She took a step backward and stumbled into the wall, startled when a sad harmony filled the hallway instead of the angry cacophony she'd come to expect.

She wasn't safe. The ship wasn't safe. The planet wasn't safe. The odds were against her, and they were all as good as dead.

"Miss Davenport?"

She yelped when she turned to find Thelma standing closely beside her.

"The Christa is calling my attention to you. Are you all right?"

What would an android understand about her fears? About mourning hopes and dreams that would never come to fruition?

"Forget it." T.J. looked away in shame, adding a weak "please" that sounded more helpless than polite, much to her mounting dismay.

The android responded by dutifully rebooting herself. She turned to the teacher and blinked in confusion before her expression settled into one conveying a gentle childlike curiosity much too innocent for the grown woman she was built to resemble.

"Miss Davenport? The Christa is calling my attention to you. Are you all right?"

T.J. staggered to the jump tubes and fumbled with the controls before slipping into the claustrophobic space. She reminded herself that at least Catalina was safe in another dimension, if what Suzee claimed was true. But could the crew trust the once-invisible girl? How precisely did she survive the explosion? And what had become of Elmira? How would the crew return home with the Christa stranded in the middle of nowhere, on an alien planet, lightyears away from anywhere, with space-only-knew how many weeks, months, or years worth of repairs…?

T.J. landed and found herself in the Command Post, disoriented, frustrated, exhausted, and wanting nothing more than to curl up in bed and cry herself to sleep. She wandered over to the helm, discarding her flashlight in favor of gripping onto the console ledge so tightly her knuckles turned white. The room was in ruins, reminiscent of the state of the sister ship earlier that day. It felt wrong , terrifying, and deeply sad. Standing in the wreckage of a post of power was all too poetic, and she was assaulted by another onslaught of fatalistic thoughts that rivaled Bova's pessimistic ramblings.

I'm not safe. The ship isn't safe. The planet isn't safe. The vacuum of space isn't safe, I don't have what it takes to survive, and none of this is fair.

Seth returned to the ship to find the kids safe and sound, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding. He called for Thelma, and she dutifully appeared at his side, inches away from him as she was wont to do. He jumped, swore, and apologized before asking, "Where is Miss Davenport?"

Thelma's eyes darted from side-to-side as she processed the request and retrieved the answer, "Miss Davenport is presently in the Command Post." She furrowed her brow and more seriously added, "The Christa has been calling my attention to her, but she refuses to acknowledge my presence."

Seth raced toward the ComPost without offering an explanation. When he reached his destination, he found the door locked from the inside.

"T.J.! Are you okay?"

Seth barely had time to reflect on any of the unexpected twists and turns of the last 48 hours: T.J.'s foray inside the computer, the crew's encounter with Shank on the sister ship, the possibility of Catalina's death and the subsequent revelation that she was trapped in another dimension with no means of communication. There was the brief addition of Elmira to the crew and the seemingly-more-permanent addition of Suzee before they crash-landed. T.J. said she was okay after being struck by some falling debris during their descent, but Seth wondered if she'd followed up with Rosie in the Med Lab like she claimed. He somehow knew that she hadn't.

"I should've made her pinky promise," he grumbled. "T.J., I'm going to break down this door if you don't answer!"

It was a childish thing to say. A commander couldn't become too emotional; he needed to be level-headed. But his priority was to make sure that the crew was safe, and he had the sickening feeling that something was wrong with his second in command.

"Commander," Thelma appeared by his side, "I could—"

But he had already positioned himself against the far wall and taken a running start to throw himself against the door.

"Ow! Dammit!"

Thelma made a face between an amused smile and an exaggerated grimace. "The door does not open inward."

"Yeah, I don't know why I did that."

Thelma approached the entryway and requested, "Open, please."

The mechanism responded by unlocking, and the doors parted easily. Because of course they did.

Blast it!

Seth's heart plummeted when he spotted T.J. on the floor, hugging her legs, trembling, and leaning against the platform at the room's center. He hurried over, landing on his knees next to her.

"T.J.? Are you hurt?"

She gasped and turned to him wide-eyed, finally registering his presence. "You came back," she said through a sigh of relief.

"Of course." His brow furrowed in concern. "Did something happen? What's wrong?"

" This is wrong. This is all so, so very wrong. This cannot be real. This cannot be happening. Space help us." She ducked her head in shame as she clumsily reached toward him for support, accidentally smacking him on the shoulder before clutching his forearm.

"T.J.? You with me? Teej?"

The nickname caught her attention, and suddenly she felt like she was twelve years old again, crying in the Christa's corridor. She was already drowning in anxiety and fear; waves of embarrassment and shame washed over her in an emotional maelstrom that knocked the breath from her lungs.

"What do you need?" Seth tried again. "Please talk to me."

Through gasping sobs, she ordered, "Leave me. Alone. Please ."

"What can I do? Are you hurt?"

"I said. Go. Away ," she repeated, even as she gripped his arm more tightly.

Seth had witnessed T.J.'s hysterical ramblings on more occasions than he could count. But how many times had she chosen to lock herself away and suffer alone?

"I don't think I've ever seen you internalize like this before," he realized aloud.

"'Tis slightly more dignified," she took a ragged breath, "than screaming," and another, "and fainting."

Seth almost preferred the screaming and fainting. At least then he knew what to do.

"I cannot let them see me. Not like this. Is it," she gulped, "getting hard to breathe? Perhaps the air… If the purifier… Is there damage?"

Batting Seth away, she gripped the console ledge to pull herself up, but her legs were shaky beneath her. He braced her as she sank back down to the floor, and he was relieved when she didn't swear at him, flinch, or shove him away again.

"T.J., I think you're having a panic attack." He schooled his voice to be calm, even though he was anything but.

"Yes. I know. Thank you! Fuck off !" she snapped, surprising them both.

"I'm not going to leave you like this," he reiterated. "T.J., listen to me. Right now, you're safe. I'm safe. The kids are safe."

"No. Nothing about this is safe."

"I know it's overwhelming. But what you're feeling is temporary, and I'm going to stay with you until it passes. No judgment. What can I do to help?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything. The kids. I cannot let them… They can't see me like this."

"They're all in the Lounge. Cleaning up the ComPost is the last thing they're thinking about. It's just you and me right now. I've got you. Now tell me: what can I do to help?"

"Catalina. We need a plan. To bring her back."

"I know. We'll find a way. In the meantime, Suzee says Cat is safe, and her family is taking care of her."

"Is she right? Is she telling the truth? Can we trust her?"

"I think so. She helped us before, even when we didn't believe she existed," Seth reasoned, "and the Christa bonded with her when she boarded with the rest of the kids, so the ship trusts her. She saved Cat and has only offered help since she got here, so I trust her."

"But how she claimed to have transported herself here: It's incredibly dangerous, nigh impossible!"

"So you think she's lying?"

"You don't understand!"

"I don't, but I want to. Why is it impossible? Engineering was never my strong suit."

"No one has ever manually created a gateway between parallel worlds in recorded history. " She continued trembling as she rambled, "Through space, certainly, but safely between universes with that kind of timing and precision ? It is positively unheard of ."

"And Suzee said she did it like it was a piece of cake. So if she is telling the truth—"

"What else is she capable of? How advanced is the technology of her homeworld? What if we cannot replicate the conditions that allowed her to travel here without blowing ourselves up in the process? Will we ever see Catalina again?" T.J. attempted to regulate her breathing and failed spectacularly, her efforts resulting in a hiccuping sob. "I cannot take much more of this. No more losses, Seth. I cannot bear it. I don't have what it takes. I won't survive this. I can't… I can't breathe ."

"We'll figure it out, okay? I've got you."

Possible outcomes for their journey raced through her mind including many unfavorable ones: ones where not all of them made it home, ones without Seth by her side. Her thoughts collided, and she was unable to voice any of them. She shook her head as he repeated "I've got you," over and over.

Finally, she took a deep breath and was able to voice her fears as she exhaled, "We are going to die on this planet." Another breath in. "We'll be trapped here forever." Another breath. "We can only live off the land so long." One more deep breath. "I don't know how to do this, Seth. I don't want to do this, I cannot bloody do this, please don't make me do this!"

"I know it's scary, and there's a lot we don't know yet, but I do know we're not going to die here," he began, keeping his voice as soothing as possible. "I know you're worried, but you're not alone. I'm here. Remember we've got a plan. I know you like plans."

"Again. Tell me again. It helps to hear it again."

"We can live off the land while Suzee makes repairs. She's smart. I bet she'll get us spaceworthy within a few weeks, and then she'll be able to communicate with Cat again. The Christa is partially organic and has already started healing herself. We've got the biosphere so we can grow our own food. We triple-checked the life support systems, and they were spared from any damage. The Christa can be our shelter out here, along with the temporary camp you helped set up—which was a great idea, by the way. I've put a forcefield around the perimeter to prevent intruders from entering our space, and Thelma says the proximity alarms are fully functional. While we're planetside, we have an opportunity to scavenge for resources that wouldn't be available to us otherwise: food, spare parts for repairs, crystals and alternate fuel sources. And if there are other people nearby, maybe they can offer some assistance."

"Good. Those are all good things."

"Yep. We're not going to be trapped here forever. Try to think of it as a sort of shore leave." He absentmindedly stroked his thumb back and forth along her spine. "The beach is about a kilometer southeast from where we landed, and the view is gorgeous. We can take a hike down that way together sometime, if you want. Maybe even have a picnic and enjoy our time here a little bit? Out of all the planets we could've crashed on, I think we picked a good one, eh?"

Seth noted she had relaxed somewhat during his reassuring speech and was happy to hear what sounded like a chuckle cut through T.J.'s wheezing along with a muffled, "Idiot."

"So we'll finish our repairs, gather some supplies, get some R and R, and continue on our way," he said easily. "What do you think?"

When she didn't answer, he gently took one of her shaking hands and placed it on his chest. She looked up at him startled, with a question in her eyes.

"You're still hyperventilating. Breathe with me, okay?"

She mirrored him as he allowed her to feel the rise and fall of his chest. She stared at her hand, not yet confident enough to meet his eyes for longer than a few seconds. By the tenth repetition, she'd stopped shaking and dared to look up at him. She took a few more slow breaths before finally managing a "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm here for you. I know that you know that, but please also try to believe that."

She nodded. "I'm sorry for telling you to fuck off," she murmured, looking away in shame.

Seth chuckled in earnest, and T.J. blushed as she felt the laughter rumble in his chest.

"I like seeing part of the rebellious streak you don't want to admit you have," he told her. "I think you're a force to be reckoned with."

"Helpless, curled in a ball, on the floor?" she grumbled.

"You've been thrown out of your element for seven years—"

"Do not remind me."

" But you continue learning and growing and guiding these kids all while facing things most STARDOGS have never even seen. It's nothing short of incredible. You should be proud of yourself."

"I don't believe that's true."

"Well I'm proud of you. You face your fears every single day we're out here. Honestly? That makes you the bravest person I know."

She shook her head, refusing to look at him again. "I become consumed by my own thoughts, and I am my own worst enemy, and I break down, and—"

"And you overcome that." He placed his hand over hers. "You may break down, but you pick up the pieces and carry on, just a little bit stronger each time. You know what they say: 'Courage isn't a matter of not being frightened. It's being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.' Your vulnerability is brave, and I respect you for being honest about your fears. Thank you for sharing them with me."

"You did not give me much of a choice in the matter."

"I was holding up my end of our deal. What kind of person—friend or commander—would I be if I promised to be there for you, then saw you suffering and did nothing to help?"

"It was not always like this," she continued. "I wasn't always paralyzed by anxiety. Back home I felt like I had control over most aspects of my life. But we have so much to lose out here. And thinking that something terrible could happen to you or to the children..." She took a shaky breath. "I don't know how long I can carry on like this. Frankly, it's a miracle any of us are still alive. Yesterday, Bova and I almost… Today, Catalina and… all of us almost… It's too much, but it is all I can think about. We must be vigilant, must prepare. There is so much to do."

"We'll get there. But right now, in this moment, we're safe. I've got you," he told her again. "Navigating everything is difficult, I know. But you don't have to do it alone anymore."

"I don't want to be a liability."

"I don't see you that way."

"That is a load of rubbish."

"No, it's the truth. Fear and anxiety are things you experience, but they don't define who you are. And you are T.J. Davenport: a kind, wise, giving teacher; a brilliant tactician; and this crew's voice of reason. You challenge everyone around you to learn and become better versions of themselves. You're brave and selfless and fiercely determined to protect the people you care about. So the way I see it, you're one of the most important assets we have out here. Just keep being yourself. I'll help you along the way, and the rest will come with time and practice."

"Seth Goddard." She locked eyes with him, and her nails bit into his arm. "Promise me you will never give me the order to leave you behind ever again."

"I have a duty of care. 'The needs of the many…'"

"I simply won't allow it!" She smacked his shoulder before linking her pinky with his. "So help me, if you pull your heroic sacrificial shite again, I will have Radu drag you back onto the ship kicking and screaming, and that is a promise! What kind of person—friend or first officer—would I be if I promised to help, knew you were putting yourself in danger, and did nothing to stop you? You say I am an asset, but you are absolutely essential."

She struggled to regulate her breathing again as she felt his fingers flex against her spine and his heart speed up under her touch. His Adams apple bobbed as he gulped and continued to stare at her, unblinking, as realization flickered behind his eyes.

"How's your head?"

"Pardon?"

"You were knocked out earlier."

T.J. stammered for a moment, flustered, before confessing, "I have a headache and a touch of light sensitivity, but I am also susceptible to migraines, so—"

"You're concussed. Let's go to the Med Lab. We need to minimize the cranial swelling." He couldn't help but crack a joke to break the tension, "We don't want you getting big-headed."

"Oh hush!" She pouted and swatted at his shoulder again before letting out a heavy sigh. "Please just give me another moment to collect myself."

"Whatever you need."

"I never thought that this could be my life." She shook her head.

"Liar.

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's got to be a lie; you think about everything."

She rephrased the sentiment, "I never imagined that this life would be my reality. There. Do you have any smart aleck replies to that?"

"Nah. Space hates smart alecks."

" That is a lie. Space is a smart aleck."

"Space isn't perfect."

"I shouldn't expect it to be. But I suppose learning more about it firsthand under these conditions is proving to be a mildly enjoyable adventure, overall."

"Really?" The smirk on his face was unmistakable. "Only mildly ?"

"Stop looking so pleased with yourself," T.J. chided halfheartedly.

"So you finally admit that Space is growing on you, eh?"

T.J. was certain she was bright red as she huffed theatrically and looked away. "At the present moment, I am finding it to be mildly insufferable." She gave him a sideways glance with a teasing twinkle in her eye.

"Well, as long as it's only mildly."

"Smart aleck, indeed." She looked down and contemplated aloud, "How do you manage it? How is it that you manage to 'talk me down,' as it were? I do not usually allow anyone to see me in a state such as this. But of those who have witnessed my episodes, you are one of only two people to succeed in helping me regain my composure and actually feel better."

"I guess," he shrugged, "I just know you."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose you do." T.J. agreed. "Thank you for that. For your patience and getting to know me, even when I push you away and treat you horribly."

"You don't treat me horribly."

"I snapped at you mere moments ago."

"You were panicking, and I was intruding against your wishes."

"No. You wanted to help. And you did help. Thank you."

"There's really no need to thank me. Getting to know you is a privilege."

She hung her head and confessed with a heavy heart, "I know for a fact there are many who do not share your view."

"Well, you know what?" He got her to smile when he said, " Those people are the ones who can fuck off."