Chapter 20
Sky Bound
What am I even doing?
Fia was not the greatest at getting a read on humans to begin with.
They had nuances, unsaid implications, and nearly infinite courtship standards that varied from culture to culture.
For the last few months she had spent on this ship, she had convinced herself that Davik’s interest in her was the usual tacit intrigue from humans.
A curiosity about the unknown, a reciprocal kindness, and an echo of her own inability to keep her hands to herself.
But now she knew he was more than just curious.
She was officially out of her comfort zone. Physicality and flirtation, she understood. That, she could comprehend. That is all she had wanted.
Is that truly all I want from him, though? A carnal and fleeting tryst that would fade as soon as I am needed elsewhere?
No, I am a fool. I want to be tangled with him in a dark and saccharine way that lashes two souls together. A selfish urge. And I can’t lead a life that would grant him the ease he has fought so hard to earn.
She was taking her frustrations out on a surprisingly resilient peanut butter cracker packet in the scullery. Her chaotic thoughts distracted her, and the fiddly nature of the slippery plastic made it hard to tear the thing open without making a mess.
“Need a hand, Fi?”
She looked up to see Davik, his hand outstretched towards her.
A hand that was attached to his arm, an arm that was attached to his shoulder, and a shoulder that was attached to a very bare torso.
Perhaps he had just gotten out of the shower.
That, or she had not noticed how often he walked around shirtless, looking freshly cleaned and slightly damp.
That is something he really should do more often.
She snapped her focus up from the trail of hair that traced down his chest and disappeared below his waistband. As she cleared her throat, she handed over the now slightly mangled packet of crackers.
With a deft zip, he opened it for her, handing it back as he shuffled to the refrigerated food cabinet to hunt for his own lunch. He didn’t even offer a playful jab or crack a smile. He just offered a grunt of confirmation before he walked away.
He seemed distant and aloof, and the bags under his eyes looked even worse than usual. The disparity between the affectionate softness of the night before and the jagged-edged man that stood before her now was stark.
Maybe he’s regretting what he said.
“How is recovering from your late night going?” she asked, watching the muscles in his back tense as she spoke.
“Rough,” he replied flatly. “It’s … just a bad pain day. I’ll be fine, though. It’s a part of life out here.” He pulled out a basic nutrition drink, a “shake” she had heard some call it.
“It must be bad,” she muttered softly. “I do not think I have ever seen you eat something you did not cook.”
She, on the other hand, had never cooked anything. The crackers she had would suffice, and she quietly ate hers as Davik finished his own flavorless “meal”.
A minor tremor rattled along his left arm, and Fia breathed out a noise of growing concern.
“Davik—”
“It looks worse than it is. It’s just,” he paused and let out a dry laugh.
“God, terrible timing. I promise, I’m not one to play hot and cold.
Everything just … everything just hurts.
Bad. I’ve been due for a re-up on my augmeds.
But we’ve been going so fast-fast-fast, it fell by the wayside.
” He flexed his trembling hand and winced.
“My immune system is just fighting a little civil war, nothing new.”
A flare of surprised energy danced along her tendrils.
She wasn’t happy he was in pain, but there was a sudden reinvigoration of her spirit knowing that this was not his regret.
It was just suffering, borne of the horrible fate the Federation had sentenced him to.
Cursed to live skyward until the synthetic gravity, air, and light did enough damage to end his short life.
“I am not a doctor, but I believe the universal prescription of rest is one you also have not been getting, as of late.”
“It’s fine, Fia. Besides, you wanted to get another dive in tonight, right?”
His voice was sharp and clipped. She had never seen his temper flare, but this was teetering on the edge of callous.
Fia crossed her arms and clicked her tongue. Her protective instincts tugged at the corner of her mind. She could just grab him by the ear and drag him to his bed. Force him to rest.
Just for his health. I need to keep his health in mind. Not my needs.
“I can dive alone. It is all right.”
It was an accurate statement. The dives had gotten easier. She did not truly need him there to help. The company was just a welcome reprieve after the taxing entanglement in the datastreams.
“Are you sure? I— Well, I guess it is what you’re made for.” He crumpled the now-empty shake container and popped it into the garbage compactor under the sink. “If you need anything, come and get me. I’ll be trying to sleep. Or at least, I’ll be horizontal.”
She nodded and gestured to shoo him away. And he complied.
As he left, she stole one last indulgent stare at his shirtless form as he walked away. A guilty pleasure, and one that halted as she saw a muscle along his back wrench in a terrifying, painful spasm.
This is no way to live…
Her brain was still reeling from her dive, but she had played it safe.
A quick shower to rinse off the brine from the tank and to hop into clean clothes was all she needed to feel back to normal.
She hadn’t teased apart any of the data she had found yet.
She just pulled a copy into the data buffer to dissect later.
It was much less taxing to simply tag anything that had Federation-level encryption and stow it to process outside of the tank.
There was one piece of information she had snagged that was not pertinent to her mission. A document: “Muscle-stimulation massage therapy to treat chronic augmentation rejection”.
It wouldn’t be a permanent fix, but she held onto the hope that she could grant him some relief. She couldn’t bear to see him suffering and straining to solve her problems. His world was already full of enough struggles, and she was layering more on top of it.
She feared it might be an over-step. She was far outside her realm of expertise. This was something intimate, but not sexual.
It was still borderline inappropriate, though. Apparently, for humans, it is crossing a boundary to intervene in matters pertaining to someone’s health. But she was terrible at respecting boundaries. He hadn’t even asked her for help. She just needed to protect him from this. To take his pain away.
With a steadying breath, she knocked on his door and waited patiently, hoping she hadn’t woken him.
The door opened, and his tender eyes looked at her with surprise. Tender eyes, and to her delight, still no shirt. She did her best to keep her glance from swaying downward.
“Hey, Fi. Is everything okay?”
His condition looked far worse. When he spoke, his tone was clipped, and his limbs tensed involuntarily.
Despite his eyes meeting hers, he appeared to be staring yards away.
His softness and warmth had evaporated. All that was left were sharp edges and thin veneers of kindness barely buffering what she assumed was immense pain.
“Everything is fine. I wanted to check in on you. To see if you have been resting dutifully.” She cocked a brow-ridge and gestured at the brightly lit room behind him. “Obviously, you have not been.”
“I’m doing my best. Just takes a bit to get the brain to wind down. You’re already done trawling in the bell? It’s only been—” He looked up at his interface, and then winced. “Alright, yeah, it’s been almost six hours. I’m not doing too hot.”
“I can tell,” she whispered, reaching forward before she caught herself.
There was no way of knowing what might hurt him right now.
She stowed the urge to touch him and instead held up the datapad she had stashed the therapy data on.
“I found something that might help. It is no replacement for your medicine, but something that may help you get some relief.”
Davik gripped the datapad with shaky hands, looking through it with growing intrigue.
“Mmh. Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this stuff before.
I think Drey goes to a fancy medical ship now and then to get it done.
He went a bit overboard with his augs, so he gets flares like mine all the time.
” He nodded and continued to scroll down the page.
“It’s pricey, though. And we’re real far out from any places that have muscle-stim therapies.
Maybe I could jump in that tank of yours and jack the electricity up, get halfway there,” he said with a dry laugh.
“I was thinking of something less likely to give you a heart attack.”
“Yeah? What, you smuggled aboard some little electro-masseur drones?” he asked, a bit of brightness returning to his face that made her own heart flutter.
“No, but I think this might work as an effective alternative.”
She reached forward to trace her fingertips over the surface of his forearm, letting the slightest tingle of electricity dance in the air between them.
“Oh,” he breathed as his skin prickled with goosebumps. “You mean. Like … You want to—” He pointed at the datapad, and then at himself. “To me? With me? With your—”
“That was the intent, yes.” She said with a slight chuckle. “I saw the tremor in your hands earlier, when you were in the scullery. I thought that might be a good place to start?”
“What, in the scullery?”
“No, your hands.” She shook her head and suppressed another laugh. “You really are sleep-deprived, Davik.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah, you are not wrong. Should I, uh … should I sit?” he asked, looking down at his own hands and flexing them as he spoke.