Chapter 23
Brutal Honesty
Davik knew her dives in the bell might be intense. “Intense” was the word she had used. She had warned that the more involved work would occasionally make her twitch and jerk.
Supposedly, this was harmless. And he supposed that her measure of “intense” was wildly different than his.
As he watched Fia grit her teeth and endure spasm after spasm inside the bell, his panic grew. Every time he saw her head crank to the side, he wanted to yank the emergency off switch. He understood that pain was a given, but where the line was between pain and actual damage was becoming blurry.
Then, there was stillness. She stopped thrashing. The bubbles that had been churned up in the tank had cleared, and all that remained was quiet calm.
“Fia?” he called into the comms.
No response. Not even a flicker across her closed eyes.
No flares of energy along her scales. The only movement was the slow drifting of her tendrils in the tank’s circulation.
His grasp of amphibious bodily mechanics in water was still hazy, and he wasn’t sure whether her chest should be moving.
He was sure, however, that there should not be a plume of orange-red blood blossoming from her mouth.
He kicked wide the killswitch and rocketed up the ladder. In an instant, he plunged his arms into the tank to hook under Fia’s limp arms and wrenched her upright. Her body folded in his grasp like a rag doll.
You were too late.
The last expression he had seen on her face before it went slack and cold was anguish. That is what would echo in his mind forever. Her, in pain. Him, failing to pick the right moment to do anything about it.
With a grunt, he heaved her drooping form over his shoulder, descending from the ladder as quickly as he could without losing his footing.
The world was moving so slowly. The handful of seconds it must have taken to get her out of the tank and on the floor stretched out in his mind to hours.
With every heartbeat, his imagined maybe-future of a life with her faded.
Then, there was movement. Not the fluttering of eyes and a gasp to consciousness, but another wracking of spasms that contorted her limbs. His adrenaline soared beyond anything he had experienced before.
The med scanner was in his hand. Carissa was here.
When had he called for her? Everything was crashing into his mind both too fast and too slow.
The readout on the scanner said: Dose antiepileptic.
Injection site: accessible muscle mass. The syringe was in his hand. Carissa had given it to him. When?
He curled his fingers around the device and prayed to anything that would listen not to let him fail her, too. With shaking hands, he sank the syringe into the side of Fia’s thigh and held his breath.
His own heart was roaring in his ears, and he could make out just the faintest bits of someone talking.
There were noises from the med scanner, odd chirps that relayed something.
He was holding her, wrapped in a towel, rocking her in his arms. His lips were pressed to her forehead, and he could hear his own voice spilling a cascade of words he hoped found purchase somewhere in her mind.
Please, no, I can’t…!
I only just found you.
…You have no idea—
Fia, Fia, please, I never even asked—
…Not like this, not like this…Not—
Davik kept the lights in his room dim for her.
Avoiding too much stimuli, just as the med scanner had instructed to do after a seizure.
Making her world quiet, dark, and warm. She was coiled in his sheets on her side, and he was kneeling by the head of the bed.
Keeping a silent vigil in the dark, with his hand on hers.
He could manage that. But that is where his influence ended. Now he just had to wait. Wait, watch, and try not to crumble into himself.
If there were gods, above or below, they were capricious beings. He had only just let himself dream, to let himself consider that maybe, just maybe, there was a way for him to be something to her. If he found the courage. That there had to be a way to shape the world to fit them together.
The butterfly fluttering high that her touch brought to him, the way her low-lidded eyes could make him melt, the ease and placid comfort they found just sitting together and working in peaceful silence. All of it was worth sacrificing for.
But that imagined future was invaded by the cold gorge of loss. Loss of what he had not even rightly had. He didn’t even know whether she was lost. Somehow, that was even worse. She could slip and be gone, or rally and be here with him again, safe.
The agony was aimless. He needed to talk to her.
To see her smile at his stupid quips, to entice her to do that cruel little smolder where she would call his bluff and make him melt, to watch her meticulously scoop every bit of rice out of her bowl when he cooked for her.
He would kill to see the way her eyes went wide and drew in every drop of light in the room whenever she was being pensive, just one more time.
Every little thing, every little moment, he feared they would slip out of his memory if he didn’t hold on to them tight enough. He didn’t realize how at home she felt in his life. It had barely been three months.
Life was never fair, but this felt beyond injustice. This felt cruel.
The slow stroke of her thumb along his broke through. A quiet, chest-shuddering sob that shook his shoulders was all he could muster.
“Fi…?” he choked between terrified breaths.
“Davik…”
Her voice broke through the competing voices of terror and self-disgust that were swarming in his mind.
He wanted to scoop her up and bury her in his chest, kiss and touch every inch of her, press the memory of her into his very skin.
He wanted to tell her how much wild, angry fury he was battling, knowing how close she had come to vanishing from his life.
Everything whirling in his mind fought for priority to be said and done, but it couldn’t be said and done right now. Not while she needed to rest.
“I … got it,” she murmured, and he could make out the tiniest glimmer of a smile on her face.
Her work. That comes first. That will always come first.
“You had a seizure, Fi. You were unresponsive, and you convulsed so hard you bit your tongue, and....”
“That explains why I am tasting blood,” she said with a hiss of pain as she lolled her tongue out to inspect the damage.
It was minimal, thankfully. Her people were fast healers, but it would be sore for at least a few days.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked, her fingers tracing down his jaw and finding the remnants of tears that still clung to his skin.
“No, just scared me. Scared me a lot.”
He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. The conflicted feeling of fiery fear-fueled rage was tempered slightly. But her not realizing how close she came to oblivion was sickening to endure.
Well, now you know what you put your own folks through. Cosmic karmic justice.
“Did not realize how intense—” She stopped to take in a slow, measured breath. “It comes up on you fast.”
“Is it always like that?”
“It is not supposed to be.” She winced at the volume of her own voice before dropping to a lower, hushed tone. “Ah … this is what technicians are for. To ensure the input is manageable.”
“I will save a lecture for when you are not on bed rest. Just … Please, Fi, don’t push yourself like that again.
This is the second time I’ve thought you were dead in my cargo bay.
I can’t take that a third time.” The desperation in his voice made it seem like he was making light of it, but he was deadly serious.
He would be lost if he lost her.
“I will do my best not to die in the future,” she chuckled softly, returning her hand to the bed.
Her tone was warm. Her smile, soft. His words were just sliding off of her. She didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand.
Fuck, she is recovering from a seizure, and English is not her native language. Your nuance isn’t going to hit home right now.
“You are … angry?” she asked, her brow-ridge raised in concern.
Her hand fell away, and she pulled herself to sit upright. He protested her moving, but even in this state, he couldn’t do much to stop her other than grumble.
Deflection and denial both seemed like poor choices. Honesty was easier. Painful, but easier.
“I … I am angry, yeah.”
He rose from his slumped spot on the ground to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. He could form the right words to convey what he needed to say. Just not while looking at her. That might actually kill him.
“You mean a lot to us now. To Carissa, to … to me. Especially to me.” He felt her shift behind him, but he didn’t dare look. Not yet.
“I know you’re used to a life where you flit from ship to ship, and you’re used to wartime risks and stress, and this is all normal for you. But I’m not. I’m not a flitter. I’m a … sitter?” He groaned, rubbing his temples. “Fuck, I don’t know how to say this.”
The lack of her playful interruption was physically painful.
“Look, I’m just trying to say that, whether or not you meant to, you’ve fit yourself into my life.
You’ve fit in so perfectly that I’ll fall apart when you walk out of it.
I go out there every morning and see you in the mess hall, and all I can think is that the day you leave, I’m going to be a fucking goner.
One day, you won’t be here, and all that’s going to be left of you are memories.
Memories, and an empty shuttle, and your stickers all over my goddamn ship. ”
He laughed, exasperation and frustration creeping into his rant.
“And that’s bad enough. That’s pathetic, actually.
But now I’m sitting here thinking there’s a chance we could have— no, that I could have gotten you killed!
Before you even had a chance to leave me, that you would be dead, before I could even tell you—”
He nearly jumped when he felt her hand slide across his shoulders. It didn’t bring comfort. It brought a sting of pain so palpable that he almost shoved her back. He turned around to face her, seeking her lightless green eyes in the dim glow of the room.
“Don’t do that! Every time I’m getting the courage to be honest with you, it’s like you can sense it, and you just change the subject.
Or you pull this move, getting me wound up and derailing me.
But I can’t do that, Fi. If you don’t want anything more than flirtation, then that’s …
It’s fine. That’s fine for you, but that isn’t enough for me. ”
You’re in too deep now.
“I don’t care if my life gets more complicated with you around,” he continued, looking down at the empty space on the bed between them. “I want a life with you in it, thorns and all.”
She didn’t touch him. She didn’t purr and smolder and use her wiles to turn him into an ineffectual puddle.
Instead, she pulled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself.
He had never seen her look so small before.
When she spoke, it was with a voice so quiet that he could barely hear it at first.
“You told me you dreamed of a life of calm, of predictable understanding. I want that for you. But I cannot give you that. I bring more than unpredictability, Davik. I bring danger.”
Her eyes were closed, and he spied the tiniest glint of tears shining in the low light of the room.
“I cannot forgo my responsibilities and be anything more to you than … this.”
“Life is unpredictable and dangerous, Fi. Fuck, we could get unlucky, get struck by a rogue bit of debris, and be sent into the void without a moment’s notice. That’s just how it is. Adding an ancient extraterrestrial with a fantastic ass into the mix is a drop in the bucket of cosmic chaos.”
He pulled a little laugh from her, and it eased his aching heart, just a smidge.
“What about Federation strictures? You would lose the right to descend to a habitable world. You would never live in a home that would ease the strain on your body and let you see a true sky above.”
“Okay,” he crossed his arms and nodded. “So, fuck it. I’d get hit with a PPR.
I don’t care. I wasn’t joking about that when I said the risk was worth it on Tescatua.
So what?” he asked with a dry laugh. “Pretty sure I would never have the creds to live planetside, anyway. Even after this job. So, try again. That’s a real shitty first strike. I’m barely moved.”
She cocked a brow-ridge, rising from her slumped posture to mimic his. Arms crossed, and eyes flat. Though a slight curve of a grin snuck onto her lips.
“Fine. But I cannot put aside my drive to fight for my people, Davik. I swore an oath to do what is needed, to settle the score with Sol. No matter what tempting noises you might make between my legs, or what delicious meals you may ply me with, I know myself. That is not a part of me I can quiet.”
Can she hear my brain short-circuiting? She must be able to. Fuck. Don’t get lost imagining that. Focus, man. Focus.
“Okay, that’s more reasonable. You’re not wrong, I’m not made for fighting.” He cocked his head to the side, leaning closer to her. “But I can be happy on the sidelines while you charge into the unknown. I’d be happy, just so long as you came home safe. So long as you came home to me.”
Her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed, and her lips slightly parted as she spoke.
“You would want that? With … me?”
The ship lurched upward. It felt like it, at the very least. His own stomach had reeled from his gut to his throat, then spun and crashed back onto the floor as her words filtered through his brain and found a home in whatever small corner of his mind was still processing language.
“Fia, I very much so want that. And if I’m being really honest?
I’ve wanted that since that first night you sat with me.
Watching the green glow from Hepler Station, telling me that your heart was hurting.
How your home felt so far away, and that the world was too quiet for you.
” He reached forward, cupping both of her cheeks in his hands.
“Now, do you have any other excuses why this won’t work that you want to dissect?
Because I’ve got none, and I’d really like to kiss you now. ”
Her reply came swiftly and with a surprising amount of force.
She leaped forward and curled her arms behind his head, dragging his lips against hers.
They both shared a breath, a shaky moment of pause as they hung in that heady moment of closeness.
Then, her lips parted, and every lingering fear of his jettisoned out the airlock.
She chose you. Now, don’t fuck this up.