Chapter Text
The shuttle rocked violently, the ride back to Daar Pelaav always seeming to hit chop every time they’d been there, but this time Sara didn’t care. She was too engrossed in staring blankly at the bench across from her to notice. Not even Liam sitting opposite her had her attention, as she was focused on trying to burn holes through the metal seat her eyes were currently trained on.
Sara swayed when the shuttle jolted, not even bothering to reposition herself when the ride smoothed out once more. Liam finally shifted, and she glanced up at him quick enough to note the almost pitying look on his face before she resumed her attentions elsewhere. She wasn’t in the mood to get into a discussion about what they’d just been through. After all, Liam hadn’t had a very pissed off angaran bearing down on her, with a gun pointed right at the face of her other angaran crew member before firing a shot.
To say that Sara was upset would have been an understatement. She was furious. The worst part was, she didn’t even really know why. Akksul’s shot had missed, deliberately or not, but fate be damned it only just grazed Jaal’s face before burying itself harmlessly into the mountainside beyond him. Jaal hadn’t even flinched. He hadn’t even reacted really until they’d finally left Akksul behind, humiliated and alone in the Forge. Only then had Jaal nearly crumpled, cupping his bleeding cheek with a hand as the shock caught up to him. Just as quickly he was shrugging it off, regaining his aura of self-assuredness as if the fact that a bullet had just sliced through his face was nothing. It may have been for the humans’ benefit, or perhaps for his three siblings now occupying the shuttle with him. Or it was just his way of pretending to himself that what he’d just done wasn’t immensely stupid.
His survival of the encounter alone should have soothed Sara, but the simple fact that Jaal had asked—no, begged—Sarah to just trust him and not take Akksul down with no regard for his own safety was what was bothering her the most. It wasn’t that Sara wanted to shoot Akksul. She wanted the opposite in fact, but when put in a situation where it was a choice between him, and Jaal she wouldn’t hesitate.
But, against her better instincts she’d listened to Jaal. The tense seconds that followed her and Liam lowering their weapons in an effort to diffuse the situation had felt like hours. Not once did Jaal seem to lose his composure. Sara tried, but internally she was screaming. SAM had intoned something about a 64% probability that Akksul would actually shoot to kill, which didn’t help matters but Sara had felt paralyzed in the moment. The alternative would have been to simply shoot the Roekaar leader and be done with it, but that would have had far worse consequences than Sara wanted to entertain. The Initiative’s relationship with the angara was already on thin ice, and while the Roekaar were a splinter group of highly xenophobic guerilla warriors—kett or Milky Way refugees, they were not picky—killing Akksul would have only martyred him. Akksul had even said as much to her the moment she had her gun to his chest.
And worse, she would have destroyed the fragile trust and friendship she had built with the angara so far; the friendship she had built with Jaal.
Sara finally huffed air, leaning down to run her fingers through her hair while she stared at her feet. There was no better way this could have ended. She knew that. But right now she hated Jaal for putting her in that position in the first place.
As if sensing her thoughts, she heard a stirring directly to her right, where Jaal was at the opposite end of the shuttle. The petty, nastier part of Sara had hoped that her choice of sitting as far away from him as possible before they’d left the Forge had been enough of a signal to him to know that she was pissed. He hadn’t spoken to her since they’d left, so maybe he knew. He’d been speaking to his siblings in hushed tones, low enough that she couldn’t understand the words between them, but she could hear the frustration and shame bounce back and forth without question. They had been the entire reason any of them had been put in this position in the first place, but right now she didn’t have the strength to be angry at them. She couldn’t, even if she’d wanted to.
Liam finally leaned over and gave her a reassuring pat against the knee. Sara huffed, managed a thankful smile at him before she realized that Jaal was staring at her.
Sitting up straight Sara finally gathered the strength to look at him. He had shifted his body completely to face her, one leg propped on the shuttle bench where it bended creatively underneath him. The angle of his body was an obvious cue that he wanted to speak to her, but neither of them said a word. Jaal’s otherworldly gaze, blue and deep and unfathomably bottomless, was locked anxiously on her as if waiting for some sort of reprimand. Oh it’s coming, Sara thought bitterly, but the frown on his lips and almost pathetic, dejected look of apology on his face prevented her from doing anything more than grunting a wordless acknowledgment at him.
Sara also knew she was being selfish. This whole thing hadn’t even been about her, or even Jaal. It had been about protecting his family, and her feelings were secondary. She didn’t really enjoy the worry Jaal had directed at her when there was more at stake, but christ she couldn’t help from being so very irritated at the whole ordeal.
“For fucks sake…” Sara finally muttered, having the mind enough to notice that Jaal was still bleeding where the bullet had grazed him. The absurdity of it all was too much, although worrying about cleaning himself up had probably been the last thing on his mind. It just looked so wrong and pathetic to Sara the way he sat there so dirtied, so she set her mind on fixing it. She couldn’t very well let Jaal sit there to leak all over his rofjinn and armor.
Standing, bracing herself against the shuttle wall she walked to a compartment at her end and kicked it open. She’d been in angaran shuttles before and knew where the aid kit was and more less how to use it. Lexi had also given her enough field medic information for angara should Jaal be injured during a mission that she was confident enough that she could patch him up.
“Sara,” Jaal finally rumbled, offering her a hand when she moved closer to him, med kit in tow, but she did not accept it. Her name on his lips made her heart seize in that moment, wanting to take his hand if only to assure herself that he was still there, tangible and very much alive, but the angrier part of her didn’t want to give him that comfort. The subtle, hurt look that crossed his face when he retracted his hand would have been enough to make Sara regret every decision she’d ever made in life but she resisted the urge to show it on her face. Instead, she sat down next to him, actually facing him, with her legs propping her up to reach closer to his eye level.
Jaal’s siblings squirmed uncomfortably opposite them, and Sara could see it out of the corner of her eye but she tried not to pay attention to them. His sister—Sara couldn’t remember her name—leaned forward as if to make her presence known should Sara try anything shady. One of his brothers hovered closer to Lathoul, the one name she could regrettably remember if only because he’d actually been shot during a rather tense exchange between them all. Thankfully he was fine, his armor absorbing much of the blast but he was leaned back against his brother for support, eyes shuttered and barely focused on what was going on in the shuttle around them.
“You should maybe not bleed all over everything,” Sara mumbled, opening the kit she’d balanced on her thigh and began picking through it, looking for the antiseptic and cloth. Jaal didn’t protest, so she took that as encouragement to continue. Finding what she’d been looking for she poured a generous amount of antiseptic on the sterile cloth and brought it to his face. “Hold still,” she warned. She didn’t know if it would sting or not, but she wanted to be sure.
And sting it must have, because as soon as she brought the cloth to Jaal’s face he jerked in surprise, but immediately stilled as she suspected the initial zing wore off. Carefully she began the task of cleaning him up, careful not to break the wound any further. The wound itself was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, leaving a clear line across his cheek that Sara mused might actually end up being quite a handsome scar if it stuck around.
Jaal was a remarkably cooperative patient. His right eye slipping shut just slightly each time Sara stroked his cheek, almost as if he was enjoying the moment. Sara’s cheeks started to flush, realizing that in its own strange way this was actually quite intimate. She could imagine that Liam was probably going to give her endless shit for this later, because he had already guessed that Sara was quite fond of Jaal and would remind her every chance he got.
“I couldn’t help but notice you’re upset,” Jaal started quietly, his cheek moving underneath her touch as she started her descent towards his jawline where blood had started to trail in an erratic pattern down his throat. It pooled in the cracks between his neck and the smooth, curving hood of soft skin and bone that framed his face.
“Shh, don’t talk,” Sara snapped, maybe harsher than she’d intended but Jaal didn’t read it that way. He at least didn’t show it.
“I’m sorry I put you in that position, Sara,” he continued. His large hand shifted onto his thigh, very near her own. She thought that maybe he was deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to slide his hand onto her, unsure if the touch would be welcome. Part of her wanted him to, but part of her didn’t really care in that moment.
“We can talk about this later,” Sara mumbled, satisfied that she’d cleaned him up as best she could. The wound itself had oozed a bit, but it wasn’t anything that needed to be fussed over. Finishing it off with a bandage, Sara leaned back to check her work.
“There I think that looks about right.”
“You did an admirable job,” Jaal offered, his voice a low, hopeful rumble. His eyes followed her when she stood to return the med kit to its cabinet. She already knew that Lathoul didn’t need it because they’d patched him up with Roekaar supplies before leaving the Forge. She doubted that her concern was welcome anyway. She'd tried to help them before, but they'd very vehemently refused her. Jaal had given her a look to indicate that he was sorry, but Sara had agreed at the time it was best to keep her distance.
Feeling sheepish after her eyes lingered on Jaal’s for too long Sara turned to return the med kit and sit back down. Liam perked up a bit, perhaps seeing her demeanor change.
“What am I, chopped liver?” He quipped, and Sara feigned bashing the med kit into his head which he mock dodged.
“I’m not your nurse, patch up your own damn wounds,” Sara responded, now realizing just how much Liam was putting her on the spot for paying such careful attentions to Jaal, and he probably knew it too.
“Why would you wish to be that?” Jaal asked, now sitting forward on the bench with his arms crossed against his massive chest. The slight smirk on his face betrayed the fact that it probably wasn’t a serious question.
“You little shit, I already told you what that means,” Liam snarked back, sliding down in the bench into a slouch. Sara couldn’t help but smile at their tender friendship, thankful that they couldn’t see her expression with her back to them putting the med kit away.
“I would hardly use little as a descriptor.” Jaal said, sounding scandalized.
“So you admit to being a big shit then?”
Sara couldn’t help but bark out a laugh when she sat down, her previous rage starting to cool down, if even a little. It was near impossible to be tense when the two of them went at it, although Jaal’s family looked somewhat mortified to hear them throwing insults at each other so casually.
Sitting back, Sara felt a little bit at home again as the shuttle finally made it’s descent into Daar Pelaav.
***
It was raining on Havarl, but it had always been raining every time the Tempest had docked at Daar Pelaav. Sara was beginning to wonder if it ever stopped, thinking that reactivating the Remnant Vault should have made some sort of change, but possibly the rain had never been the problem with the planet in the first place.
Right now though, the rain was soothing on her face, still flushed and dirty from their time at the Forge. Since the shuttle had landed, Sara had opted to give Jaal and his family space while they worked out whatever was going on between them. Liam had said he wanted to return to the Tempest for a shower, but his eyes suggested that what he was really saying was that he wanted Sara and Jaal to talk out what had happened to them since their confrontation with Akksul.
Now Sara stood at the railing on the shuttle pad, letting the rain patter across her face and run down her cheek. She closed her eyes, letting the cool air and soft fragrance of soil and flowers waft over her. Havarl truly was beautiful—a planet worthy of birthing a species such as the angara.
Sara noticed the talking behind her had ceased at the exact moment she heard movement drawing nearer—a rustling of light fabric in the wind—and she immediately knew from presence alone that it was Jaal. He rested next to her on the railing, his weight making the metal shift beneath her arms, and they shared a companionable silence for a moment.
Sara was still upset. She could have said that she was still really pissed, but she was lacking the energy to really feel it anymore.
“What I asked of you was unfair,” Jaal finally offered after the silence stretched between them for longer than he was comfortable. Sara thought, that maybe he had positioned himself closer intentionally, closer than he’d ever really stood near her before, and she allowed herself the luxury of pretending that meant something.
“No, it wasn't.” Sara puffed out a breath of air, watching the sway of alien trees outside the angaran settlement.
“And yet, you are quietly suffering.” Jaal didn’t have to say anymore. His words cut into her so deeply that Sara felt her stomach drop with an anguish she hadn’t realized she’d been bottling up. How, how did he manage to say so much, with so few words, and yet force her to feel everything all at once. She thought that his words were a question, but he didn’t present it as such. It was an offer for her to really lay into him, and he was prepared for it.
For a split second, Sara considered absolutely losing it and tearing him a new one. She could really show him the full fury of human emotion and what it would look like if she wasn't so completely spent. So she didn't, deciding to choose her words carefully when she opened her mouth to speak.
“What you did…. was really, really stupid and reckless. I know why you did it. I understand the sensitive situation we found ourselves in, and why it was better to listen to you but…” she paused, the memory of Akksul pointing the gun in Jaal’s face unbidden in her mind. “…he could have killed you.” Sara felt as if she’d just dumped a huge load off her back, feeling relieved at how simple it now all sounded when she put it to words.
“He did not. I knew he would not.” Jaal offered quietly.
“Did you though? He said you were a traitor. What if he was just angry enough at you to not care about your past? What if something had happened and I messed up and shot him accidentally—“
Jaal actually laughed, the sound so deep and booming that Sara felt it as surely as she felt the rain sliding down the back of her neck. She wondered, briefly, if what she was feeling was his bioelectrics resonating through her body, as alive and demanding of attention as the man standing next to her, now laughing at her. Everything about Jaal was so very big and full of life, that it was no wonder he’d had everyone’s attention as soon as he’d joined her crew on the Tempest. He’d captured her most of all, and she’d somehow fallen into his orbit like a comet drawing ever closer by the insatiable pull of the brightest star.
“That isn’t funny Jaal. Now you’re just making fun of me.” Sara frowned, now feeling just a little bit stupid and offended.
“You did not shoot. Akksul did not shoot. I am here and everyone is safe. The Roekaar no longer have the strength they once did.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, the remnants of laughter dying in his throat but his eyes were shiny and clear in Havarl’s dim evening light. The weight of his hand was warm and comforting, and Sara was very aware of the thumb that slid idly up her neck in a soothing gesture.
“I was really worried about you. I was so scared I was going to lose you.” Sara said, her voice sounding very small to her ears. The admission spilled from her in a nervous rush, and her belly fluttered at the relief to finally have out what her real fear had been. Jaal was turned to face her, and the expression on his face as he looked down at her had changed to something tender, almost wanting.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he said quietly, his voice a deep rumble that passed between them in soft breaths as if it was tangible. Maybe bioelectrics again, Sara couldn’t be sure.
“Was it worth it then, only to get shot in the face?” Sara winced, misplaced sarcasm noted. She thought Jaal would pull away, if only to shift the mood away from the tone she’d set but he didn’t.
The next thing Sara knew Jaal’s palm was raised, hovering near her face with a beat of hesitance and Sara stilled, unsure of what he was doing. He placed his hand gently at her temple with a quiet wonder, her hair ruffled between his fingers, and he pulled her face close to his as he leaned into her. For one wild, terrifyingly excited second Sara thought he was about to kiss her, his face angled with the intent to press his lips to hers with eyes that were hooded with need.
Yet he didn’t, seeming to stop himself nearly all the way there before settling his forehead against hers, maybe losing his nerve or unsure if she’d respond positively. Sara matched his gesture, placing her hand against his head as he was doing, content to at least enjoy the moment for what it was despite her disappointment.
Sara had wanted him to kiss her. Maybe she’d been wanting that for a while. But, she couldn’t have been absolutely sure. Otherwise she would have pulled him in on her own.
“It will heal. All scars do.” Jaal finally said, his voice a quiet hush as his breath danced warmly across her face. Sara found his eyes with her own, found them hopeful and pleading, but as if a sudden realization hit him he pulled away from her. His hand lingered in her hair for a moment more, and losing that final physical connection to him was raw and strangely painful.
She thought back at his words, and about what they meant. As was Jaal’s way, everything he said was full of purpose, and she wondered if he had meant a great deal more than what he appeared to mean on the surface.
That would have to wait. As if coming out a trance Sara realized that Jaal’s family was still standing a few meters away. Lathoul had been taken away to be treated for his wounds, but his other siblings remained, appearing to be trying their hardest to look at anything but the two of them at the railing.
“Say goodbye to your family. I’m going back to the Tempest,” Sara said, now feeling very exposed and aware of her surroundings as if her senses had just been dialed up to 11. Jaal nodded solemnly, something in the way he was looking at her having changed, the shared moment between them awakening something profound in both of them.
She offered Jaal one last hesitant smile before turning to leave, trying to hide the fact that she was trembling.