Chapter 15
15
H e’s been in there for three full cycles. Three cycles of holing himself up in my quarters and flinching when I stop by to get a change of clothes or bring him food. I’ve tried talking to Paul, but he gives short answers, his dull eyes refusing to meet mine. Multiple members of the crew have visited him to try to get him out of his hermited state, including Yaz, who felt awful for not being more considerate about how his approach on Gryxsyx would frighten Paul. They can at least get him to meet their gaze, from what they’ve told me, but he doesn’t want to engage.
He’s withdrawn into himself and I can’t stand it any longer. I know that it’s not entirely my fault—this is clearly his mind’s defense mechanism he developed from past trauma—but I was the catalyst for pushing him into it.
“How’s your human doing?” Rema asks as I sit across from her with my morning meal, trying to hide the way my back spasms from sleeping so many nights in a row on the rec room couch and the injury from sparring with Paul.
It was an unspoken decision that I sleep somewhere else. I couldn’t stomach sleeping in the same bed anymore. Forcing my presence on Paul after hurting him. Feeling him so close beside me, wanting to draw him into my arms and soothe away whatever demons are haunting him, but knowing he wouldn’t be receptive.
Wanting him in general.
My grip tightens reflexively on my mug of tea. Vash-ka , I thought my attraction was inadvisable before, but now it’s downright inappropriate.
“That good?” Rema looks at my hand that’s squeezing the mug so hard it might crack. For once, she doesn’t sound teasing.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I checked in when I woke up, but he was asleep. Or at least pretending to be. Tari said she’d bring him some breakfast since I need to prep for the job, but I don’t trust her not to send Dill in her stead.”
Rema grimaces. “Good call. I can bring it…” Her mouth twists into a slight frown.
“He’s not your responsibility, Rema. I wasn’t saying that to pressure you into helping.”
Her frown deepens. “No, that’s not it. Esh’et , Hadrell, you know I would help you with anything, even if you rarely choose to take me up on that.”
I try to disguise my wince at her sharp words as a reaction to my tea being too bitter as I take a sip. “I know.”
“I was thinking… maybe I should stay on the ship for this job.”
My brow furrows. Rema was going to come with me to look for salvage on a derelict ship someone on Gryxsyx hired us to check out for them. It’s easy credits as long as you have the right gear, but it’ll be a lot of hauling junk and manual labor. My back spasms again in protest at the thought of doing all that alone, but Tari is still working on repairs, Val needs to stay at the helm in case another crew shows up, as does Yaz, in case any unexpected visitors are hostile, and Bret’u is stuck in zir lab working on a different job we picked up, since we need all the credits we can get right now.
“That’s fine, I can do it on my own if you need?—”
Rema scoffs loudly. “You’re so predictable. Catch even a hint of a chance to be a martyr, and you’ll take it. I didn’t mean that you should do the job alone. I was going to suggest you take Paul with you instead.”
I ignore her unfounded comment on my behavior in favor of the latter half of her statement. “Paul? Are you serious?”
“He needs a push,” she says, the dart-like saelit on her brow pinching together . “ Sitting in there alone is only feeding the demons in his head. Treating him like he’s made of glass, acting guilt-ridden and distant, isn’t helping either.”
“I hurt him. What do you want me to do? Pretend like nothing happened?” I scowl at my friend, even as the accuracy of her assessment makes my stomach sink.
“No, Hadrell. But void, it’s not like you did it on purpose or committed an atrocity. You used the information at your disposal and came to the wrong conclusion. As much as you never want to be fallible, you are. You made a mistake, and you apologized. Move on.”
“When you put it like that, you make it sound so simple,” I grumble. I hate it when she cuts through my nonsense so easily, even as I appreciate having someone in my life who won’t hold their opinion back because I’m the captain .
“Eh,” she waves me off, but there’s a hint of a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. “I’m not the one who actually has to do it, so it’s easier to think through.”
“What if he doesn’t want to go?” I ask. Uncharacteristic nerves bubble up inside me at the thought of talking to Paul.
“Then he doesn’t go. Can’t get much worse than it already is.” Rema stands and picks up her tray, bringing it over to the auto-washer. When she returns, she has a small wrapped parcel in her hand. “Give this to him with his breakfast. I’ll be down in the med bay assisting Bret’u if you end up needing me to come with you.”
I snort. Rema’s version of assisting Bret’u is pestering and flirting with zir until the shikzeth gets so flustered ze threatens to push her out the airlock. Or at least sedate her. Ze doesn’t know that Rema would probably enjoy the latter because she’s into all kinds of unusual things.
I take the parcel from her, looking down at it in curiosity. It’s wrapped so neatly, I won’t be able to check what it is before giving it to Paul.
“Something I picked up on Gryxzyx,” Rema explains. “Humans love it, apparently. Sounded weird to me, but who am I to judge?”
I want to ask for more details, but she’s already heading out the door with a soft whistle, no doubt amused by me grappling with the ambiguity of her offering.
“I swear on my mother’s life, if this ends up being a bunch of dead skrall husks, I will leave you at the next station,” I shout after her.
All I get in response is a delighted cackle.
Suspect package and a tray of food in hand, I head up the lift to my quarters.
My palms are slick from nerves as the door slides open, and my stomach twists at the sight of Paul sitting motionless on the side of the bed. His back is to the door, and there’s a blanket wrapped across his shoulders as he stares out the window into space.
“Brought you some breakfast,” I say, trying to sound cheery and failing.
“Thanks.” He doesn’t move or turn.
So far, I’ve taken that as my cue to set the tray down and leave him alone, but I let Rema’s chastisements bolster me. Taking a deep breath, I place the tray at the small table in the corner of the room, then head over to the bed and sit down next to him.
He doesn’t say anything, but his posture tenses. Vash-ka , I hate that. I want to touch him. Soothe him and find a way to coax him back here to his mind. Back to me.
“I’ve got a present for you. Well, it’s from Rema, but… here.” I hold out the parcel in front of him, praying it’s nothing weird.
Paul’s gaze drops to my hands, but he doesn’t take it. “What?”
“Rema thought it might cheer you up. She found it on the station.” When he still doesn’t move to accept the parcel, I start to babble. “Knowing her, it’s probably a bunch of skrall eggs or something equally horrifying to me she knows will make me screech like a child.”
“Skrall eggs?” Paul finally turns to look at me, and my heart leaps when I see there’s an expression on his face that’s something other than blank detachment. Granted, it’s bemused concern, but I’ll take it.
“They’re a delicacy. If you can get past the fact they come from the galaxy’s most creepy and repulsive creatures,” I say with a shudder that I don’t have to put on for comedic effect.
“Right,” he says, and I release my breath as he takes the package from me. When he begins to unwrap it, I tense and scoot as far to the edge of the bed as I can get. Paul lets out a small huff and I brave looking in his direction to find that there’s the smallest hint of a smile forming on his lips.
Suddenly, I don’t care if it’s a whole horde of live skralls. Not if it will make him happy for even a moment. Though that doesn’t keep me from flinching as he pulls the wrapping away and shutting my eyes.
He sucks in a surprised breath.
“Well? What is it?” I ask, unable to look.
This time, his snort is fully audible. “You’re safe. Sadly, it’s not skrall eggs.”
My eyes open and look at him, aghast. “ Sadly ? You’re evil, human.”
He shrugs, the upward curve of his lips increasing.
A laugh bursts out of me. The first real one I’ve had since we returned to the ship after the debacle on the station. “Alright, then, what is it?” I scoot back closer and peer at the small brown lump in his hand. It looks like some kind of carving or figurine, but I don’t understand why Rema would give him that.
“I think…” Paul brings it up to his mouth and his short, pink tongue extends to lick it. A look of pleasure washes over his features and desire sparks to life inside me. “Yep, it’s chocolate .”
I clear my throat, willing myself to stop thinking about Paul’s tongue. “My translator says that’s a kind of sweet, but made from a seed or bean? Is it like xurul?”
“Kind of,” he says, considering. “Though xurul reminds me more of coffee. Both are naturally pretty bitter and are caffeinated like xurul beans, but unless it’s very dark chocolate, you add a good amount of sugar and milk to the cocoa.”
“Ah, humans are one of the strange species that consume animal milk,” I say with a slight grimace, less interested in tasting this chocolate now .
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. If it helps, I’m sure this is made with synthetic milk products. Regular milk is way too expensive to use for sweets. Here, try some.” Paul unceremoniously snaps an ear off the chocolate figure and passes it to me.
“You tore its ear off! You’re evil and violent. Are all humans so callus? Why is it shaped like an animal in the first place?”
Paul rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t know. Why does anyone do anything? Just try it.” He nudges my hand with his and a jolt goes through me as I realize we’re talking. Having an actual conversation.
I can’t stop the relieved grin that stretches across my lips as I bring the strange brown substance to my mouth and pop it inside as Paul watches me with interest. I probably should’ve done a scan to make sure it was safe for seladin consumption, but a few hives or stomach cramps are worth it for this moment of normalcy between us.
I expect to chew it, but the solid ear immediately starts to melt, spreading against the surface of my tongue. It’s rich and sweet, with a hint of the bitterness he mentioned cutting through.
Esh’et , it’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
I make an overdramatic grimace.
“Oh shit, I thought you’d like it! Here, I’ll get you some water.” Paul tosses the blanket off his shoulders to reveal his shirtless torso, and moves to stand.
I touch his arm lightly, not wanting him to worry for nothing.
He freezes and looks up at me with wide eyes.
I quickly lower my hand. “It’s amazing. I love it. Thank you for sharing a piece with me.”
He sits back down and his eyes drop to his hands. “Would you like more?” His voice is sweet, like he genuinely doesn’t mind giving up some of this precious gift to me, the asshole who treated him like garbage.
“No, it’s for you. Thank you, though.” A long silence stretches between us and I worry he’s retreating again. “Paul, I’m sorry.”
He sighs, the sound heavy and sad. “It’s okay.” At least when he says it now, there’s some emotion behind it.
“No, it’s not,” I say, frowning. “You don’t have to accept my apology, but please don’t trap yourself in here because I’m an idiot and assumed a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”
Paul opens and closes his mouth a few times, struggling with his reply. I wait, fingers twitching with the need to touch him and get a sense of what’s running through his mind. “Yeah, you kind of are,” he says, finally.
I blink at him in surprise. “Yeah?”
His mouth slants into a crooked smile. “Yeah. I mean, come on. I would’ve been starring in holos, not working a mid-level clerk job at the embassy if I were that good an actor.”
“Hah, fair. Though, from what I heard over Yaz’s comm, you were pretty damn convincing at acting like you could kick his ass.” I hope I’m not making things worse by bringing up that detail.
Paul groans. “At least someone was convinced. I swear I almost pissed my pants. Why didn’t he tell me who he was? Also, how the hell did you both find me so fast?”
“I asked Yaz to follow us in case someone tried to sneak up on us, and when he found you, I told him to keep you there. Yaz is always grumpy when he finishes a regeneration cycle, so he didn’t think of offering pleasantries when a human started shouting at him. Not that I’m blaming you for doing that! I’m so proud of you for standing your ground.”
A hint of a flush creeps down Paul’s neck at my words. “Thanks. I was so scared, but all I could think of is…” He sighs. “Fo rget it.”
“Anything you tell me is probably something that’s gone through my mind in near-death situations,” I say, desperate to know what he’s thinking. “One time, I had a vision that all the skralls in existence are part of a hive mind that’s trying to cause the death of all other sentient life in the galaxy. I was so worried I wouldn’t make it out alive to warn everyone.”
Paul’s brows shoot up. “What? Really?”
“Brains are weird. I’m still not entirely convinced it’s not true. Those things are so creepy.” I shudder overdramatically and wait to see if he’ll continue or if we should move on to talking about something else.
“All I could think about was how small my life has been,” he says quietly. “How I’m so tired of being betrayed by my body and my brain. How I just want to be someone who can be strong for one goddamn minute of my life, instead of curling up and accepting my fate.”
A tear streaks down Paul’s cheek and he swipes it away quickly, then clears his throat.
I struggle for a moment, trying to find the right words. My heart breaks for him and whatever happened to convince this kind, intelligent, capable human that he’s anything but those things. I want to ask him, but I don’t know if I have the right to pry.
“See, I told you. Nowhere near as embarrassing as mine.” I give him a nudge with my shoulder and he huffs out a laugh.
“How is it you always know the right thing to say to make me feel like I’m not being ridiculous and pathetic?” Paul asks, eyes gleaming as he meets my gaze and holds it.
I’m stunned by his earnest question. “I…I don’t always say the right thing.”
“Yes, you do.” Paul shakes his head and sounds almost annoyed by his assessment. “Even when you were concocting absurd scenarios about my powers of deception, it was under the assumption that I’m much more capable than I am,” he adds with a laugh.
I know I should probably joke back, but I can’t. “Let’s get something straight. I may stumble my way into kindness or wisdom occasionally, but most of that is because of common decency, not anything special. It’s clear that you never received that kind of decency, because if you did, you wouldn’t think so poorly of yourself. The only thing ridiculous about you is that you can’t see your worth, and even that’s not your fault.”
Paul’s eyes widen in surprise, but I don’t give him time to deny it. “Hmm, actually, it’s probably because you come from a species that thinks it’s cute to shape food into animals and eat it. Finish up your weird chocolate creature like the monster you are, then get dressed. You’re coming with me on a job.”