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Hundreds of people were crammed into the tiny town square, but La’an scanned the crowd with practiced, efficient eyes. Right upper quadrant…clear. Left upper quadrant…clear. Right lower quadrant…wait. Her gaze landed on a human man standing a few hundred meters away, just behind the ropes that cordoned off the central platform.
If it were up to La’an, something a lot more substantial than a handful of flimsy strings would be separating the crowd from Captain Pike, Una, and the Cruv’eon officials who were leading the ceremony. But the local security officers that La’an was liaising with had looked baffled at her suggestion of some sort of sturdier partition “just for a statue unveiling”, and it had been a battle that La’an ultimately lost.
The man was dressed in the same colorful tunic and loose pants as the locals, and he seemed to be eagerly awaiting the start of the ceremony like everyone else. But La’an knew as surely as she knew her own name that something about him wasn’t right, and she had long ago learned to trust that feeling. She began to quickly and quietly make her way towards him, sending a brief message to her security team as she moved.
A voice boomed across the square to announce the beginning of the ceremony, but La’an barely heard it as she ducked and weaved through the crowd. The man seemed to listen raptly, eyes fixed on the platform, but La’an’s unease only grew deeper as she got closer.
Something shifted ever so slightly in the man’s expression, and La’an felt every one of her muscles tense in response as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Her heart began to race as her breathing quickened. There was a flicker of movement under his tunic and then La’an was sprinting.
“GET DOWN!” she screamed. The man’s arm rose in the air, features twisting with rage as he shouted words La’an didn’t understand. He was clutching something in his fist, something small, and dread propelled La’an’s legs even faster.
Almost there…she wasn’t going to make it in time—but she had to. She’d memorized the layout for the ceremony, and she knew without looking at the platform that Una was standing directly in front of him. If he let go of whatever he was holding…no. No, she couldn’t let that happen.
His arm wound back, and La’an leaped into the air with a shout. Something glinted out of the corner of her eye as she tackled the man to the ground, rolling her full weight onto his outstretched arm. There was a sickening snap of bones breaking, and someone screamed.
La’an didn’t dare move a muscle as she held her breath and waited for the explosion, but it never came. The din of panicked voices began to rise all around her. A hand descended to grab La’an’s shoulder, and she curled even more tightly around the man’s arm.
“Stop!” she hissed. “Bomb, right hand.”
“Hang on, Lieutenant," came Ensign Rhee’s voice behind her. “They’re almost here. Are you okay?”
La’an took a quick inventory of her body. Nothing hurt more than she expected it to after tackling someone. “I think so.”
There was movement by her head, and La’an looked up to see Lieutenant Guerrera and Ensign Bailey kneeling next to her.
“Where’s his hand?” Guerrera asked, holding out a silver hexagonal orb.
“Pinned under me.”
Guerrera nodded once. “Right. Bailey, see if you can find it.” An arm began to wriggle underneath La’an.
“Don’t let him open his hand,” La’an grunted. Several tense minutes followed, but the plasma-shielded explosive containment device was successfully deployed around the man’s entire right forearm.
“All clear,” Bailey said, and La’an let out a tremendous breath as she let Rhee help her to her feet.
“Get him out of here,” La’an told Guerrera sharply. “And make sure he gets medical attention.”
As soon as the shimmer of the transporter beam had disappeared, La’an frantically looked around. There were a handful of civilian stragglers being rushed away by first responders, and her security team was busy securing the perimeter and interviewing witnesses…but she didn’t see Una. She turned to Rhee. “Is anyone hurt?” she demanded. “Did he have accomplices? Is the crew safe?”
“As far as we can tell, he was working alone,” Rhee said, hands clasped tightly behind her back. “A fair number of people were injured as they got swept up in the fleeing crowd. Broken bones, crush injuries, the usual, but no fatalities so far. We’ve split them up between sickbay and local medical facilities.”
“And the crew?” La’an repeated impatiently. Where was Una? “Are they okay?”
“I…I think so,” Rhee stammered nervously. “I haven’t heard any reports of injured crew members. They should’ve been beamed back to the ship at the first sign of trouble.”
Gritting her teeth, La’an thanked Rhee and headed for the central platform. She had to find Una, had to see for herself that she was okay.
The platform was empty now, save for a few of her lieutenants who were supervising the disassembly of the ceremony equipment. La’an rushed over to Lieutenant Iverson.
“Where’s the crew?” she barked without preamble.
Iverson raised an eyebrow. “They’re not here, Lieutenant Noonien-Singh. Beamed back to the Enterprise as soon as you shouted for everyone to get down, per protocol.”
Some of the panic coiling in La’an’s stomach began to unwind, but she had to make absolutely sure. “Are they okay? Did you see U—Commander Chin-Riley?”
“They’re fine, as far as I know,” Iverson said, gesturing for an enormous light fixture to be wheeled away. “But I didn’t see them. By the time I got up here, they were already gone.”
La’an didn’t bother with a goodbye before she hurried off the platform. Trying to find someone who’d seen Una was a waste of valuable time. Odds were that Una really was fine…but those were not odds La’an was willing to accept. What if the transporter beam had missed her, or she’d been swept up in the crowd somehow and injured? La’an couldn’t take anyone else’s word for it, even as she knew she wasn’t being entirely rational. But she had to hear Una’s voice for herself.
Tucking herself into a slightly quieter alcove, La’an tapped her combadge as her heart thundered in her ears. “La’an to Una.” The wait for a response seemed to drag on for hours.
“La’an?” Her knees went weak at the sound of Una’s voice. Judging by the muffled beeping and jumbled voices La’an could hear in the background, she was in sickbay. “Are you all right?” Una continued. “Are you still down on the planet?”
“Yeah.” La’an let out a shuddering breath. Una sounded unhurt, and most importantly, alive. “I’m good. Just tying up some loose ends. What about you? Are you okay?”
“A little shaken up, but I’m fine. About to leave sickbay now.”
“Please tell me you actually let a medical professional check you over, for once in your life.”
“Yeah. Nurse Chapel.” The response seemed terser than La’an had been expecting, but Una was probably just trying to leave sickbay as soon as possible.
“That’s good. Catch you later?” La’an itched to see Una, to verify with her own eyes that she was well and whole and uninjured. But that was silly, and it would have to wait.
There was a brief pause. “I don’t know,” Una said, and her voice had an odd undertone that La’an couldn’t identify. “I’m sure we’ll both be very busy for the rest of the day.”
“There’s an understatement,” La’an said dryly. “But want to grab a quick dinner after we both manage to wrap everything up? I could drop by your quarters.”
There was a much longer pause this time before Una spoke again. “Actually,” she said stiffly, “I think I’d like to be alone tonight.” She cleared her throat. “I’m pretty tired. Probably just going to go to bed early.”
“Oh.” La’an winced at how dejected she sounded. The rejection stung far more than it should have. She had no claim to Una’s time. Una had every right not to feel like having dinner with La’an for any reason whatsoever, including for no reason at all. “Yeah. Of course. Um, sleep well.” She resisted the urge to ask Una if she was sure she was okay. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night,” Una said, and the call was immediately cut off. La’an bit her lip, chastising herself for taking things so personally. But she was pretty sure this was the first time Una had declined an invitation to spend time with her, and she couldn’t help feeling hurt. They’d spent plenty of evenings together when one or both of them had been exhausted, grumpy, or irritable, and it had never been an issue. Sometimes they’d talk or watch movies, but other times a comfortable silence would fall and they’d read, finish reports, or just…sit quietly together, which often ended in them drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms. Those were secretly La’an’s favorite evenings.
But she was being absurd. It was perfectly understandable that Una might be tired after a day like today. La’an would see her in the morning, and everything would be fine.
*************************************
The door chime interrupted La’an just as she was finally making herself comfortable under her favorite blanket. Hauling herself off the couch, she grumpily made her way to the door. She was in no mood to talk to anyone…well, anyone except Una, but she’d made it clear that she wouldn’t be dropping by. La’an scowled as she slid the door open, ready to convince whoever was on the other side to make a hasty retreat.
“Una? What are you doing here?” La’an’s surprise turned to concern as she took in the strands of hair falling out of Una’s elaborate updo and the very uncharacteristic way she was wringing her hands in front of her. “I thought you wanted to be alone. Are you okay?”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Una burst out, and La’an’s concern deepened. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Una swear.
La’an opened her mouth, but Una barged into her quarters before she could get another word out.
“Hey—!“
“What were you thinking?!” Una repeated as she began to pace back and forth in La’an’s living area, jaw clenched and shoulders stiff. “Of all the stupid, reckless—”
“Wh–what are you even talking about?” La’an asked, torn between irritation and worry. “Are you all right? What’s going on?”
Una abruptly stopped pacing and spun around to face La’an with her hands on her hips. A deep frown creased her forehead, and her eyes blazed with anger.
“Don’t you dare play dumb with me,” she hissed, and La’an blinked in shock at her icy tone. She and Una had argued before, of course, and they’d ended up in a handful of shouting matches over the years. La’an thought she’d seen Una angry, even furious. But Una had never spoken to her like this. She’d never heard Una speak to anyone like this. It hurt more than La’an would like to admit.
La’an racked her brain, but she couldn’t think of anything she’d done recently that might have made Una this mad. Had she accidentally done something to upset her? A familiar sick feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. This was far from the first time she’d inadvertently caused offense. La’an was used to people misinterpreting her direct, straightforward manner as rude or standoffish. No matter how hard she’d worked on doing or saying things differently, it never seemed to make a difference, so eventually she’d stopped trying.
But Una had always been the exception. It was just…easy to talk to her, in a way that La’an had never experienced with anyone else. Una had somehow always known exactly what La’an meant, even when she stammered or phrased things clumsily or struggled to find the right words. And on the rare occasions when Una hadn’t understood, she’d just asked La’an for clarification instead of assuming ill intent. It was one of the things that La’an cherished most about her, and about their friendship.
And it just made this, whatever it was, feel even worse. What could La’an possibly have done to warrant this reaction? She had no idea, and the not knowing made her heartbeat crawl up into her throat.
“Una—” Her voice shook slightly, and La’an swallowed before trying again. “Una. I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened?”
Una’s eyebrows rose. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
La’an folded her arms as irritation began to overshadow her hurt feelings. “Okay, that’s enough.” This was starting to get ridiculous. “Either explain what you’re on about or get out.”
Una cast her eyes towards the ceiling, as though offering a brief prayer for strength. “Fine,” she seethed, mouth set in a hard line. Her makeup was smudged—another spike of concern nagged at the back of La’an’s mind. “I just finished debriefing with the captain.” At La’an’s blank look, her eyes widened incredulously. “On everything that happened down on the planet. How could you have been so careless?”
“Excuse me,” La’an retorted, thoroughly annoyed by now. “How dare you barge in here to criticize how I do my job? When’s the last time you conducted a comprehensive threat assessment for an entire planet?” Yes, she’d clearly missed something during the pre-mission preparations, but she’d scrutinize every detail with her security team later to try to figure out what went wrong. She didn’t need Una to storm into her quarters and scold her like a misbehaving child. “I don’t even report to you! If the captain has a problem with my performance, he can tell me himself.”
“You—what?” Una’s hands abruptly dropped to her sides as she gaped at La’an, and when she spoke again, the rage had vanished from her voice. “That’s not…the captain didn’t send me here to—to give you a performance review.”
“Great,” La’an shot back. “So you just dropped by to, what, criticize me of your own volition? I feel bad enough about missing that man already, thanks.”
“No!” Una exclaimed, and she at least had the grace to look abashed. “No, of course not! I would never—that’s not—” Her shoulders sagged as she sighed. “I didn’t come here to blame you for what happened.”
As hard as La’an tried to hold on to her anger, it slipped away from her like sand through an hourglass. It had only been a few hours since they’d last seen each other, but La’an was shocked by the drastic change in Una’s appearance. She looked…awful, like she hadn’t slept in days. The dark circles under her eyes stood out against her too-pale skin. Besides her smudged makeup and messy hair, she was still in the same dirty uniform she’d worn during the away mission, and her boots were scuffed. There were few things Una hated more than an unkempt personal appearance. Something terrible must have happened to prevent her from getting changed and cleaned up. What had she been doing in the time they’d been apart? A cord of anxiety wrapped around La’an’s chest.
“Look,” La’an said, walking over to the couch. “Let’s try this again. Come sit down. Start at the beginning.” Hearing the words leave her mouth was odd. Usually, Una was the one reminding La’an to take a deep breath and start over when she was upset.
Una looked like she was about to argue, but she seemed to think better of it and took a seat next to La’an. To La’an’s alarm, her body seemed to sag into the couch as soon as she sat down, like she’d abruptly run out of energy to keep herself upright. She closed her eyes as her head dropped back onto the cushion behind her. La’an’s chest constricted as the cord of anxiety pulled tighter. She wanted to comfort Una, but she didn’t know how. She didn’t even know what was wrong. What should she say? And with how angry Una had just been, even if La’an dared to reach out to take her hand, or to rest her palm on Una’s shoulder…she wasn’t sure Una would welcome her clumsy attempt at a reassuring touch.
“Um, do you want something to drink?” La’an asked awkwardly. “Water? Tea?” Eyes still shut, Una wordlessly shook her head. “Alcohol?” La’an offered, hoping for a smile, but all she got was another tiny shake of Una’s head.
La’an fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt. It was unsettling in a way she couldn’t quite name to see Una collapsed on her couch like this, exhaustion written in the lines of her face. When was the last time she’d been able to sit down? She looked so worn out that La’an wondered if she’d fallen asleep.
“Una?” she tried, then flinched when Una’s entire body jolted, eyes flying open with a start. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“No,” Una said hurriedly, sitting bolt-upright on the couch. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” She wouldn’t look at La’an as she clasped her fingers tightly in her lap.
La’an eyed her skeptically. Una was clearly anything but fine, but La’an decided to let that go for the moment. “I still don’t have the first clue what you were talking about. What’s going on? Where have you been for the past several hours?”
“Like I told you,” Una said wearily, “I just finished debriefing with the captain.”
La’an frowned. That didn’t make any sense. “But I spoke to him as soon as I returned to the ship, and I’ve already submitted my incident report. What did the two of you talk about for so long?”
“I know,” Una replied. “I read your report.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” La’an said tersely. Her irritation was starting to return. “And anyway, why would you read my report? You saw the whole thing.”
“I read every incident report!” Una looked so affronted that La’an had to bite back a laugh. “Besides, I didn’t really see anything. I was talking to the Cruv’eon mayor when I heard you yell, and then the next thing I knew, I was being beamed back to the Enterprise.”
La’an made a mental note to find out which of her team members had acted so quickly to get Una to safety. It was of the utmost importance to promptly evacuate the ship’s first officer in the event of an emergency, and whoever had done so deserved to be commended.
“So if you weren’t even there,” La’an continued, eyes narrowing slightly, “what were the two of you talking about for so long?” And why wouldn’t Una just answer the damned question?
“Oh, you know,” Una said vaguely, thoroughly interested in trying to brush a patch of dirt off her tunic. “He was just…filling me in. The usual post-incident stuff.”
La’an gritted her teeth. It took all her self-control to stop herself from grabbing Una by the shoulders and shaking her until she finally spat out whatever it was that she was clearly not saying. She took a few deep breaths and was working on composing a more measured response when Una’s head shot up to glare at her, as though she’d suddenly remembered that she was upset with La’an.
“But stop trying to distract me.” Una’s brows snapped together as she fixed La’an with an accusatory stare. Any sign of her earlier fatigue had vanished without a trace. She abruptly stood up and resumed her pacing around the room. “The point is that I talked to the captain, and I read your report!”
“You already said that,” La’an said impatiently. “You’re just gonna have to spell it out for me. What is going on with you?”
“Fine!” Una cried, whirling around to face La’an. “You threw yourself on top of a terrorist with a bomb!” Her features contorted with anger and a trace of…something that La’an couldn’t quite place. “You could have died!”
“I—wait, what? He was a terrorist?” That was news to La’an. She rose to her feet. “How do you know that?”
“That’s not the point!” Una snapped, throwing her hands in the air. La’an begged to differ, but she didn’t think it would be wise to press the issue just then. “The point is your blatant disregard for your own safety! You were nearly killed!”
For a moment La’an was speechless. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said when she finally found her voice again. “That is literally my job.” But Una knew that perfectly well. La’an had a niggling feeling that she was missing something here, something big. She just wished Una would actually tell her what it was.
Despite La’an’s best efforts, indignation began to rise up in her again. She rested her palms on the desk in front of her and leaned forward a little. “Una. You can’t just burst into my quarters and berate me for doing my job. And also,” she couldn’t resist adding for good measure, “I was not nearly killed. Come on. It’s just a little bruise.”
Pointing that out did not seem to pacify Una, judging by the way her eyes flashed as she stepped into La’an’s personal space and reached for her top. La’an raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pull away as Una carefully slid her shirt up. The reverence in her touch was a jarring contrast to the way she had just been yelling at La’an. Una’s entire face tightened and her eyes clouded over as she examined the purplish-blue splotches on La’an’s flank.
“Oh, La’an…” Una whispered, and she sounded almost…haunted. Biting her lip, she extended a tentative hand and brushed just the tips of her fingers over the bruise. La’an barely managed not to shiver, but she couldn’t suppress her sharp intake of breath.
Una yanked her hand back. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking away.
“It’s fine,” La’an said grudgingly, rearranging her clothes. She wasn’t about to tell Una the real reason she’d gasped, but she also couldn’t stand there and let her think she’d hurt La’an. “I can barely even feel it. It’s not a big deal.”
“Of course it’s a big deal!” Una insisted, entire body stiffening. “You’re hurt! You could’ve died, La’an, and I—I can’t—” Her voice broke off abruptly as she gripped the back of La’an’s desk chair so hard that her knuckles blanched white.
“I’m really fine,” La’an repeated, more than a little perplexed. Una was definitely prone to fussing over her when she was injured, which La’an found both annoying and endearing, but this was extreme even for her.
When Una made no move to say anything else, La’an couldn’t stop herself from pushing a little harder. “And in case you’ve forgotten,” she said, knowing perfectly well that Una had in fact not forgotten, “terrorism counterintelligence is also very much my job. Care to explain how you came across that information before I did?”
Una’s face went carefully blank as she fiddled with one of her sleeves. “It…came up during my conversation with the captain,” she said hollowly, gaze resolutely fixed on the bonsai tree sitting on La’an’s desk.
If Captain Pike had been the one to discover that, he would’ve immediately notified La’an himself. Which could only mean…
“You’re the one who found out,” La’an said slowly, and she knew she was right when Una’s whole body froze. An awful sense of foreboding slithered down her spine. Something horrible was going on here, and her mind raced as she tried to put the pieces together. How could Una have ended up being the first person to know? Had she been threatened or attacked somehow? Was she in danger? And why hadn’t she told La’an right away?
La’an’s chest felt heavy as she tried to take a deep breath to demand that Una tell her the truth right now. After the light virus, Una had promised that there would be no more secrets between them, and La’an had believed her. She suddenly became aware of how tightly she was clenching her fists and how hard her heart was pounding.
“You lied to me,” La’an accused, and Una flinched. “You lied,” La’an pressed, voice rising with each word. “After you promised you wouldn’t keep any more secrets! Tell me the truth!”
Una wrapped her arms around herself, still staring at the desk. “I can’t.”
“Bullshit,” La’an snapped, walking around her desk to stand closer to Una in an effort to get her to look at her. It didn’t work. “And you know I’m going to find out soon enough, one way or another. At least have the decency to tell me yourself.”
Una’s shoulders crept up beneath her ears as she took a step back. She finally looked up, and the agony etched onto her face shocked La’an.
“Fine,” Una said quietly, and she sounded so defeated that La’an barely recognized her voice. She found herself wishing that Una would start yelling again. “Have it your way, La’an. I know that man was a terrorist because I was his target.”
La’an gaped at her, dumbfounded. No…that couldn’t be right. Surely she’d misheard.
“He shouted an anti-Illyrian slur that I hadn’t heard for over thirty years.” Una’s voice was so soft that La’an had to strain to hear her. “I couldn’t see him, but as soon as I heard it, I knew. I knew exactly why he was there and what was about to happen.” Her eyes seemed to stare right through La’an as a far-away expression passed over her face, and bile rose in the back of La’an’s throat as she imagined what Una might be remembering.
“Oh my god,” La’an breathed. “Una—I…” Her voice trailed off as she frantically tried to think of something to say, to find the right words to convey the depths of her shock and horror and sympathy.
“Anti-Illyrian groups tend to favor a particularly nasty type of bomb.” Una still had that unfocused look in her eyes, and she continued as though she hadn’t heard La’an. “I’ve seen the aftermath. And I knew…” Her voice cracked as she suddenly looked La’an straight in the eye, now focused intently on her face. “I know you, La’an,” she whispered shakily. “I knew you’d be running directly towards him, and I—”
Her lips trembled and she abruptly turned away, leaving La’an staring at her back as Una seemed to fold in on herself. “All I could think of was what that bomb would do to you,” Una choked out. “I could see it so clearly…picture myself finding your mangled body on the ground, and—and—” She broke off, and La’an heard her suck in several long, shuddering breaths.
“I’m so sorry,” La’an murmured helplessly. She knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of bigotry, but she’d never been targeted by a terrorist. And this had happened to Una more than once?! She knew, from Una’s testimony at her trial, that she’d faced discrimination and even violence as a child, but this…La’an couldn’t even imagine.
“No.” Una’s voice was ragged. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. It’s my fault.”
“What?” La’an nervously rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Seeing Una like this made her ache inside, but she didn’t know how to help her. “Of course it isn’t. You didn’t—”
“It is,” Una said thickly, and her torso heaved as she gasped for breath. “I put you in danger. I made you collateral damage.” Her body brimmed with so much tension that La’an was afraid she might snap at any moment. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you, and it would be my f–fault—”
La’an’s muscles felt frozen in place as Una seemed to wilt all at once, as though the invisible strings holding her upright had been severed. She buried her face in her hands as her shoulders began to shake.
A high-pitched buzzing filled La’an’s ears. She could count the number of times she’d seen Una cry on one hand. In fact, it had only happened twice. On Una’s first night back on the Enterprise after her trial ended, she and La’an had fallen asleep together. La’an had been awakened in the middle of the night by the unmistakable sound of someone trying to cry quietly. She’d opened her eyes to see Una curled up on the very edge of the bed, as far away from La’an as she could get. Lying there listening to Una’s muffled sobs had been heart-wrenching, and La’an had desperately wanted to hold and comfort her. But she’d held back, because Una had obviously been trying to hide her tears. So La’an had scrunched up the sheets in her fists and forced herself to allow Una her privacy, or at least the illusion of it. She’d never told Una that she’d woken up that night.
And when La’an returned from the Gorn ship, she’d barely finished rematerializing before Una had rushed onto the transporter pad, ignoring Chief Kyle’s protests, and pulled La’an in an almost painfully tight hug. She’d held on for a long time, shoulders trembling slightly as tears dropped into La’an’s bloodstained braids. When she’d finally pulled away, everyone in the room had politely pretended not to notice her wiping her face on her sleeve.
But this was different. Watching Una break down in front of her drove an icy knife into the pit of La’an’s stomach. She took a tentative step towards Una, then another, then almost tripped over her own feet in her haste to reach her…but now what? La’an hovered behind her for a moment, hating her own helplessness. She wasn’t any good at comforting people. Una had always been the one comforting her. But clearly Una needed…well, La’an wasn’t exactly sure what she needed, but she did know that she couldn’t just stand there and watch Una cry for one more second.
So La’an took a deep breath and hesitantly pulled Una into a rather stiff hug. To her surprise, Una’s arms immediately snaked around her torso and hugged her back, squeezing tight enough that La’an could feel the tremors that ran through her body with each strangled sob. She patted Una’s shoulder as she tried to think of the right thing to say.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she tried awkwardly, but Una didn’t seem to hear her. Her fingers dug into La’an’s sides as her knees gave out and she began to sink to the floor. La’an instinctively tightened her grip around Una’s shoulders, but she knew it was no use. There was no way she could hold Una up, but she did her best to lower both of them gently to the floor without falling onto her shelves
Una immediately wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face in her arms, rolling herself into a tight ball like she was trying to disappear. La’an rested a hand on the curve of her spine. Una gave no indication that she even knew La’an was there as silent sobs continued to wrack her body. Swallowing hard, La’an still didn’t know what to say. Knowing she couldn’t take Una’s pain away made her feel small and useless. She closed her eyes as she thought of all the times Una had held her as she cried. Somehow, Una always knew exactly how to make La’an feel better, and La’an longed to be able to return the favor.
She recalled the solid warmth of Una’s body, and the way she’d stroke La’an’s hair or pat her back. She remembered her certainty that Una’s arms around her were the only thing keeping La’an from crumbling into little pieces. She remembered feeling safe. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t conjure up much of anything Una had actually said, beyond an occasional “it’s okay” and “I’m here”. And she would definitely say more than that, because La’an remembered the vibrations of Una’s throat and chest against her cheek. Much to La’an’s surprise, though, most of the words themselves were lost.
Oh. Maybe it didn’t matter so much if La’an couldn’t think of the perfect thing to say. Maybe what really mattered was simply…being here, so Una didn’t have to endure this alone. A wave of relief flowed through La’an. She could do that. She would gladly sit with Una for as long as she needed.
La’an scooted closer, close enough that she could clumsily wind one arm around Una’s shaking shoulders and the other around her bent knees. It was an awkward sort of improvised hug, but it would have to do for now. She let out a small sigh, and her breath ruffled Una’s messy hair. Una still didn’t react, but La’an wasn’t bothered.
“It’ll be okay,” she told Una’s back. She squeezed Una gently, noticing how stiff she still was. The tension she carried was both visible, in the scrunch of her shoulders and the death grip she had around her own knees, and palpable, in the hard set of her muscles under La’an’s arms. And she still seemed to be fighting to hold her tears in. Each of her choked little gasps made La’an’s own chest feel tight.
La’an let go of Una for a moment as she carefully moved behind her. There was just enough room for La’an to slide between Una and the shelves. She settled in, extending one leg on each side of Una’s hips. Then she leaned forward, letting her chest press against Una’s back and her chin rest on Una’s shoulder, as she wrapped her arms around her again. This produced a much better hugging angle, and had the side benefit of letting her rest her hands on top of Una’s. La’an paused to allow Una to adjust before she began to gently loosen Una’s grip on her own legs.
“Hey,” La’an said softly into her ear. “Una, you can stop fighting.” Una was letting La’an straighten each of her fingers out so her nails were no longer digging into her calves, which La’an hoped was a good sign.
“Let it out,” La’an said, now holding Una’s hands in hers. “You’ll feel better afterwards. At least, I always do.” She felt more than saw Una shake her head frantically, hair rubbing against La’an’s cheek.
“Yes,” La’an encouraged. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I…” Gathering her courage, she tentatively finished with, “I’ll keep you safe.” She hoped that wasn’t an odd thing to say. La’an wasn’t used to thinking of Una as someone who needed or wanted her protection. But…right now Una was more vulnerable than La’an had ever seen her, and a fierce urge to protect her by any means necessary swelled up inside her. There was no place in the universe she’d rather be than right here, holding Una close.
For a long moment Una didn’t react, and La’an’s heart rate picked up as she started to worry that she’d accidentally offended her. Maybe La’an shouldn’t have said that last bit. Maybe that was crossing a line…
And then La’an felt the tension in Una’s body lessen the tiniest fraction, and her arms very slowly start to loosen around her knees.
“That’s it,” she murmured, giving Una’s hands an encouraging squeeze, and all at once the dam seemed to break as Una went limp. She slumped back against La’an’s chest, turning to press her face into La’an’s neck as she finally let herself begin to sob.
La’an leaned back against the shelves. She rested her cheek on the top of Una’s head and embraced her once more. The harder Una shook, the more snugly La’an held her against her chest. Closing her eyes, La’an imagined all of Una’s pain and grief and fear and anger pouring out of her as she cried. She imagined it flowing over and around their intertwined bodies before drifting away to rejoin the cosmos, leaving Una filled with nothing but peace.
Eventually Una’s sobs slowed, then faded into hiccuping sighs. La’an stroked her hair as her body stilled. When it had been several minutes since Una’s last teary gasp, La’an cautiously whispered her name, but Una didn’t stir. La’an couldn’t see her face, but judging by the laxness of her muscles and the long, slow puffs of Una’s breath against her neck, she had fallen asleep.
La’an wished she could let Una sleep in her arms for as long as she wanted. She’d already been tired when she arrived at La’an’s quarters, and between the yelling and the crying, she had to be beyond exhausted by now. And La’an’s motives weren’t entirely selfless…Una felt so good, so right, cradled in her lap that she didn’t want this to end. But Una’s sleeping position was a recipe for a terribly sore neck, and La’an snorted to herself as she imagined the griping she’d have to put up with if she let her stay like that for much longer. Besides, Una would feel so much better after a shower and a change of clothes.
After lingering for several more guilty minutes, La’an made herself call Una’s name again, a little louder this time. Una let out an adorable little unhappy noise as she snuggled in even closer. An unexpected rush of emotion welled up inside La’an. Even in her sleep, Una knew she was safe in La’an’s arms.
As much as La’an hated what had happened that day, she couldn’t help feeling deeply thankful that she’d been able to be there for Una, just like Una had been there for her so many times. La’an knew how closely Una guarded her innermost feelings. Being allowed to see her stripped bare like this, with all her defenses down, was the most profound display of trust that La’an could imagine. She had a fairly good idea of what that felt like, and she didn’t take it for granted.
La’an reluctantly brought a hand up to shake Una’s shoulder. “Una, wake up,” she said as trepidation began to gather in the pit of her stomach. It was hard to predict how Una might react. La’an was pretty sure that Una hadn’t let herself cry in someone’s arms for a very long time, and La’an knew from experience that it could be scary and overwhelming to permit someone else to see you that vulnerable, no matter how much you trusted them. Would she regret it? Would she be embarrassed? What if La’an had misstepped and Una was angry with her? La’an mentally braced herself as Una began to stir again.
La’an knew the instant Una finally woke up from the way her muscles tensed slightly. Blearily lifting her head from La’an’s shoulder, Una fumbled to get herself into a sitting position.
“Hi,” La’an said, mourning the loss of Una’s arms around her. She left one of her own arms lightly wrapped around Una’s waist, unwilling to completely relinquish contact.
A weary hand unceremoniously shoved damp hair off her forehead as Una stared at La’an through puffy eyelids. Most of her makeup was gone, save for a few smudges of what looked like mascara. Dried tear tracks ran down her face, and there was a deep crease in her cheek from La’an’s shirt. An inexplicable urge to wipe Una’s face clean with a damp washcloth and tuck her into bed crashed over La’an, and she found herself wondering if Una would let her do it.
“La’an?” Una croaked, voice raw from so much crying. “Wha—I—” Her stammering trailed off as she stiffened and jerked back, color draining rapidly from her face. Her red-rimmed eyes darted wildly around the room, and La’an got the distinct impression that Una was about a nanosecond away from jumping up and running out of her quarters.
“Whoa, it’s okay,” La’an said, trying to keep her own nervousness out of her voice. She thought Una looked more panicked than angry, but it was hard to tell. “Take it easy.”
Una’s expression closed off as she awkwardly tried to scoot away from La’an. As much as it stung, La’an let go of her waist. Trying to stop her wouldn’t help either of them, and if Una needed a bit of space, La’an would give it to her. But she couldn’t let Una flee back to her own quarters in this state.
“Wait,” La’an blurted out, reaching for Una’s hand. “Everything is okay, just—” Una didn’t pull her fingers from La’an’s grasp, but her body shrank back as she ducked her head and looked away.
“No, please don’t,” La’an urged. When Una didn’t move, La’an squeezed her fingers and tried again. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
Una still wouldn’t make eye contact. “I…sorry,” she mumbled to the carpet. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Look at me,” La’an said, a little more firmly this time, shuffling towards her on the floor. “Please, Una.”
The plea seemed to get through to her at last, as La’an had hoped it would. Una finally met La’an’s gaze, tugging her lower lip between her teeth as her face grew pink.
“Hey.” La’an reached over to take Una’s other hand. “What do you always say to me after I cry in your arms?”
Brow furrowing slightly with confusion, Una replied, “Sometimes I remind you that you don’t have to be brave anymore.”
This was true, but it wasn’t what La’an was going for. “And what else?” she pressed. “What do you tell me every single time?”
Una’s blush deepened as she looked away again. “I…that there’s nothing wrong with needing someone.”
“But you think that doesn’t apply to you too?” La’an asked gently. At Una’s half-shrug, she continued. “Why would you be any different?”
Una opened her mouth, then closed it again several seconds later when no words came out. La’an couldn’t help taking a moment to feel rather pleased with herself for making such an excellent point that not even Una, who delighted in pedantry, could manage to argue.
Una let out a long, slow breath. “I haven’t been able to—to need someone for…a very long time.” Her voice was very small as she met La’an’s eyes. “I don’t think I even remember how.”
La’an felt her heart clench at the hollow look in Una’s eyes. “I know,” she said quietly. “But…” Her cheeks heated up as she debated whether to actually say the next words out loud. “But I’m here. Um, to help you remember. If you want,” she finished in a rush, because Una was worth having uncomfortable conversations.
Una squeezed La’an’s hands with a small smile, even as her cheeks turned red again. “Thank you, La’an,” she said, so tenderly that it was La’an’s turn to blush. “I…that means a lot.”
Unsure what to say next, La’an smiled back. In the silence that followed, an endless list of questions began to simmer just under the surface. When she could contain herself no longer, La’an chose what she hoped was the least loaded one to start.
“Una,” she asked haltingly, “if you were so worried, why didn’t you just comm me sooner?” She bit back the urge to ask Una point-blank why she’d declined her suggestion of dinner.
Una ran a hand over her face as she leaned back against the shelves next to La’an. “Multiple crew members assured me you were okay…and I also scanned for your biosigns on the surface as soon as I got to sickbay,” she admitted. “I still wanted to talk to you, to prove to myself that you really were safe.” She fiddled with the zipper of her tunic. “But I didn’t trust myself not to fall apart as soon as I heard your voice, and I had to finish my shift. And…” A remorseful look crossed her face as she squirmed a little. “I didn’t want to lie to you, but I just…I wasn’t ready to tell you what I knew about the bomber. I needed some time. And I knew you’d realize right away that I was holding something back.”
“So instead you decided to avoid me, storm into my quarters to yell at me, and lie to me anyway?” La’an wanted to keep her tone neutral, but a hint of her own hurt and resentment snuck into her voice. She could understand where Una was coming from, and she empathized with how awful the entire day had been for her. But the way she’d treated La’an wasn’t okay.
“I’m sorry,” Una said softly, briefly squeezing her eyes shut before turning to look directly at La’an. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was shocked when the captain told me what you’d done. I came straight here from the ready room, and I didn’t think through what might happen when I arrived.” She shook her head. “All I knew was that I had to see you as soon as possible. But that’s not an excuse. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” La’an nodded. “I appreciate that, and apology accepted.” But there was something else she needed to make Una understand. The anguish in Una's voice as she’d insisted that she was to blame for the attack wasn’t going to be leaving La’an’s head anytime soon.
“And Una.” La’an touched her shoulder to make sure she had Una’s full attention. “What happened today wasn’t your fault. You’re not the one who tried to detonate a bomb in a public square.”
Una’s gaze dropped to her lap again as she resumed chewing on her bottom lip. “I know that,” she muttered. “But I’m the only reason that man showed up in the first place. Being around me put y—the entire crew in danger. I’m a liability. You were forced to risk your life because of me. You don’t deserve that, and who’s to say it won’t happen again?” A shudder ran through Una’s body as she hunched forward and wrapped her arms around her stomach. Her hair hung down to cover her face. “I couldn’t bear it if I were the reason you got hurt…or worse,” she whispered roughly.
“No,” La’an said urgently, scrambling to move directly in front of Una so she could take hold of her upper arms. “No, that’s not—” She broke off, frustrated with herself as she struggled to find words that would do justice to what she wanted to say. After gathering her thoughts, she tried again.
“Please listen to me.” She waited for Una to look up before she continued. La’an’s breath caught at the fresh tears that shimmered in her eyes. “That isn’t true. You could never be a liability. Never. You belong here, with—um, on this ship. And—” La’an swallowed as she felt her ears start to burn. “Even if it weren’t part of my job…I would do what I did again without a moment’s hesitation, if I needed to.” The bright blue of Una’s eyes seemed to pierce straight through her soul, but La’an didn’t look away. “That’s my decision to make,” she finished emphatically.
Una’s expression was difficult to read as she stared at La’an for what felt like an eternity. One last tear slid down her face and La’an instinctively reached up to wipe it away, but Una beat her to it.
“But I—” Una began, voice wobbling, and La’an shook her head. This conversation was far from over. There was still the issue of Una deliberately withholding critical information from her. What if that man in the square hadn’t been working alone? What if there’d been a secondary attack planned? All the what-ifs made La’an’s blood run cold, and she would need to have a serious talk with Una on the subject sooner rather than later. But Una was clearly in no condition to have it right now.
“Let’s finish talking about this tomorrow.” La’an was torn between amusement and exasperation when Una opened her mouth yet again. She really was far too stubborn for her own good. “Look, we’re both exhausted,” La’an said hastily. Prior experience had taught her that implying La’an was the one who was tired was significantly less likely to invite an argument than informing Una directly that she looked like she was about to pass out. “We can pick this up in the morning.”
“Oh.” Una leaned back against the shelves and rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
“Why don’t you go hop in the sonic shower?” La’an suggested, and Una wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t want to,” she grumbled. “I just want to sleep. I’m so tired.” La’an had to turn away to hide her grin. She would rather space herself than admit it, but petulant Una was oddly adorable.
Quickly composing herself, La’an stood up and hauled Una to her feet. “I know, but shower first. You’ll feel better.” When Una pouted in response, La’an couldn’t stop a corner of her mouth from turning up as she added teasingly, “Seriously. You look awful.”
“Wow, thanks for that,” Una said with a snort of laughter, sounding more like herself than she had all day.
“Go.” La’an gave Una a gentle shove in the direction of her bathroom. “I’ll find something for you to wear.”
While Una showered, La’an headed for the matter synthesizer. She could borrow Una’s clothes on occasion, but everything she owned would be way too small for Una. After scrolling through a few pages of patterns, La’an chose a gray t-shirt and a pair of pink sweatpants that she thought Una would like. Una would undoubtedly scold her for wasting her clothing allotment, but La’an wanted her to be comfortable. After dropping the clothes off in the bathroom, she synthesized two bowls of Una’s favorite soup and a carton of strawberries. She didn’t even want to hazard a guess as to the last time Una had eaten.
Una emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, clean and dressed in the clothes La’an had picked out for her. Sure enough, the first thing out of her mouth was, “You didn’t need to use your credits. I’m sure I could’ve found something to wear.”
“Yeah, and the whole crew would be wondering if they’d missed a flood advisory,” La’an said dryly, and a smile slowly spread across Una’s face.
“Okay, fair point.”
“You must be starving. Come sit.” La’an gestured at the food, then took her own seat at the table. She’d already had dinner, but Una was much more likely to actually consume something if La’an was eating too. At first, Una looked like she might be about to argue, but then she caught sight of the strawberries and her eyes lit up.
Una demolished her soup in record time, and La’an let her eat most of the strawberries. When she’d finished, she yawned and began to rub her temples.
“I guess I should go,” Una said, but she made no move to get up. La’an scrutinized her expression and body language, trying to find some hint as to what she actually wanted, but it was no use. She’d have to just ask.
“You could stay,” La’an offered awkwardly. A flicker of something that might have been relief crossed Una’s face. “I mean, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t mind.”
“Are you sure?” Una asked hesitantly, and La’an thought she heard a note of hope in her voice.
“Of course I’m sure,” La’an said firmly. “I offered, didn’t I?” It had never been this awkward before when one of them had stayed the night in the other’s quarters, and she really did want Una to stay. She didn’t like the thought of Una spending the rest of the night alone, after the day she’d had. And if La’an were honest with herself, she wanted to take care of Una for a little longer. But she could also see how if she were in Una’s shoes, she might be feeling self-conscious and worried about intruding on even more of La’an’s time.
“Okay,” Una said with a small smile. “Thanks.”
Una collapsed into La’an’s bed with a long, weary sigh. Grabbing a few PADDs, La’an climbed in next to her. She wasn’t very tired yet, but she wanted to be close to Una while she slept. Una didn’t even make any of her usual disapproving comments about doing paperwork in bed, which was a testament to how exhausted she was.
As La’an flipped through the first PADD, Una gradually slid backwards until the entire length of her spine was pressed tightly against La’an’s leg. La’an snuggled in a little closer, and the soft contented sound that emerged from the back of Una’s throat made her feel warm inside. She thought Una had fallen asleep when she heard her mumble something into her pillow.
“Hmm?”
Una didn’t open her eyes, but she whispered, “I thought it would be different.”
Putting her PADD aside, La’an propped herself up on an elbow and waited quietly. After a long silence, Una spoke again, still facing away from La’an.
“After my trial. I thought…I don’t know.” Her voice was barely audible, even in the stillness of La’an’s quarters.
“You thought,” La’an said carefully, “that it would finally be safe to live as yourself, once you were acquitted?"
Una nodded. “Yes. And for a while, I did feel safe.” La’an couldn’t see the expression on her face, but she watched the muscle in Una’s temple work as she clenched her teeth. “But I was such a fool to forget. I should’ve known better,” Una whispered tightly. “I do know better.”
“Hey,” La’an murmured, sliding further down under the covers. “You weren’t a fool. You just…hoped. There’s nothing wrong with that.” La’an ached to hold her again, but was that what Una wanted too? Should she ask first?
After several seconds of debating with herself, she let her hand rest on Una’s shoulder. When Una didn’t move away, La’an rolled onto her side and wrapped her arms around Una, pulling her close enough that she could feel the bumps of Una’s spine pressing into her belly. Una let out a shaky exhale as she rested an arm on top of La’an’s and intertwined their fingers.
“Try to sleep,” La’an breathed into her hair, then impulsively pressed a quick peck to the back of her neck, grateful that Una couldn’t see her blush.
She could feel Una’s shallow breathing and the tension that lingered in her body as La’an held her snugly. Laying her cheek on Una’s shoulder, she began to hum a lullaby that Una used to sing to her on the King Jr. Una tugged La’an’s arm even tighter around her waist, pressing herself in a little closer with a soft sigh. It was several minutes before her muscles gradually started to relax, and even longer before her breaths evened out, but La’an kept humming. Only when she was sure Una was fast asleep in her arms did La’an finally let her own eyelids drift shut too.