Kassia and Troy left sickbay after working non-stop for twenty hours. The injured had all been triaged and treated. Things were finally settling down. Not only had Kassia acted as nurse, but she had also been counselor, comforting and calming many of the patients. She did what she was able, and finally her energy was gone. She was exhausted, but more than willing to stay, only Cherrin was adamant that she needed to get rest. Troy, of course, was to go with her. No one wanted her to be alone just yet and especially after what had just happened. Though she had been able to help others the way she was truly meant to, Cherrin suspected she was using that to avoid her own emotions.
As they walked down the corridor, she picked up on Troy's emotions about the recent battle and their trek to sickbay. They were filled with conflicting thoughts and feelings. He had taken life . . . Several lives . . . She knew that it was something he had never thought about having to do before. He'd always said he'd protect Kassia however he could, but neither of them had really expected to be where they were now, having done what they had.
Concentrating so strongly on his emotions, she was suddenly taken by surprise to find herself in front of the open turbolift. She just stopped and looked into the empty car. Her heart was suddenly in her throat as memories of the assault filled her mind. She began to tremble and her breath became shallow. She tried to take deep breaths as she felt Troy's hand on her back, gently caressing her. As her green eyes met his dark, she could see the worry in them. He knew what was going through her mind.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Tears misted her eyes. She had done this earlier, but a man's life was at stake. She'd had to get him to sickbay . . . But now she was without that live or die situation. But she stealing herself, nodded and entered the lift. A wave of nausea hit her and she held her stomach, hunching forward just a bit. Her heart was racing.
Troy could see her face go pale white. Every time it did, he worried. Her spots would stand out as if they had been painted there, instead of enhancing her beauty as they usually did. He didn't want to see her this way. It always hurt him in a way he couldn't express clearly and he would feel helpless. Gently he pulled her to him and held her as the lift went to its destination. When the turbolift doors opened, Kassia bolted out. She was still nauseous and scared. As soon as they were back in their quarters, though the place was a bit messy from the rattling of weapons fire on the station, Kassia looked at Troy and caressed his face.
"I'm going to lay down . . . I'm feeling a bit sick."
"Do you want to have Dr. Cherrin look at you too?" Troy asked.
She shook her head. "He's got other patients that need him. This will go away in a little while," she explained. "Its just my nerves . . . from the memories . . ."
With an understanding nod, he took her in his arms for an embrace. After a moment, he watched as she disappeared to her room. His own dark mood was with him. He didn't want to have time to think about it, so he settled on picking up the place. He had to do something to keep his own memories at bay.
Tarik walked into Troy's and Kassia's shared quarters. Normally a man of outstanding stamina, Tarik looked utterly drained by the ordeal of the past two days.
Troy looked up from his seat near the porthole holding a drink in his hand. He wasn't really looking out there at anything in particular. His mind had just been wandering. He gave Tarik an attempt at a smile. Troy was tired, but couldn't sleep. He did get the quarters back into some sort of presentable shape though. But then there had been nothing else left for him to do . . .
"How is everyone here? Is everyone okay?" Tarik asked. Though he was genuinely concerned, his voice sounded numb.
Troy shrugged. "As okay as anyone can be after something like that," he answered. "Kass was great . . . Until we got on the turbolift to come back here . . . It made her sick."
"I'm amazed she even made it that far, quite frankly," Tarik replied. "But I am very proud of her for doing so."
"Me too," Troy replied, "I saw her in action today . . . She knows a lot of stuff . . . And she put someone else's life above her fear. That's what got her through the first time . . . It was just the second time that got her," he explained. "She really is something though. Never thought I would see her in action like that . . . Not that I wanted to," he said. Memories of his own came into his mind and he took a large sip of his drink attempting to drown them out.
"There were a lot of people who went beyond the call of duty these past couple of days," Tarik said. "There are also a lot of very frightened people on this station right now. I don't know how much she's picking up from them, but it can't be pleasant for her."
He nodded. "I don't know how much she's been able to block," he replied, gazing out the porthole again. "She hasn't told me. I just know that she's been picking stuff up from me," he admitted quietly. "But then again, she never blocks me, and I never block her either . . . Maybe I should at the moment . . . She doesn't need more right now . . ."
"You do that and she'll probably fall apart completely, Troy. You've been the only thing holding her together these past few weeks."
He sighed and downed his drink. He stood to go and pour himself another, his balance just slightly off. "Want a drink?" he asked. He saw the look on Tarik's face and stopped pouring for a moment. "You're right . . ." He replied. "But she doesn't need to see what I saw . . . She was with me, but she's picking up my feelings with the images . . . I don't know . . . She doesn't need to . . ." He couldn't finish the thought that she didn't need to feel what he felt about taking those lives. All the conflict within him . . . She had her own troubles . . . And she didn't need his . . . Swiftly, he downed the drink and looked at the bottle. He was debating about another drink. Deaden the emotions coursing through him.
"I'll take the strongest thing you've got on hand," Tarik said gratefully. "She was with you the whole time and saw pretty much the same things you saw. As for the feelings, well, I don't know what to tell you about that. I heard that you ran into some Jem'Hadar on the way to Sickbay."
Troy grabbed the bottle of Darvantian Rum he had been drinking from, got a glass and poured Tarik one. He handed him the drink and met Tarik's gaze. "We ran into about ten of them . . ." He said.
Tarik took a pull from the glass. "Haven't had Darvantian Rum in years!" he said, smiling for the first time in what seemed like a thousand years. "How'd you manage to get past them? Jem'Hadar aren't inclined toward respecting white flags as anything other than target practice."
He shrugged again and looked away. "I got one with a compression rifle and the others with a grenade. Kassia told me how to set it and what to do . . . I guess that was one of your lessons . . ." he half smirked. "She apparently learned it well . . ."
"You did all right, Troy," Tarik said. "I know killing ten sentient beings wasn't what you had in mind when you woke up, but you did the right thing. They would have killed you--in the most brutal way possible--had you not done it."
"I know," he replied barely above a whisper and downed another drink he'd poured. "And I will always see to it that Kassia is safe when she's with me, but . . . It was like playing at being a god . . . The power of life and death . . . " He shook his head as he sighed.
"I think of that rather often myself. Today I was directly responsible for the deaths of over 10,000 sentients--the Mullurans and Jem'Hadar who were attacking us. In a single day I killed more people than I killed in seventeen years of military service up to that point. They're the enemy--they would have killed us. That's the only consolation I can carry away from this, Troy. Hopefully it will mean something in the end."
"I'm sure it will . . . " Troy replied, meeting Tarik's gaze. "I'll be fine . . . It might take some time, but I'm sure I'll recover . . . And I'm not the one you should be concerned about . . ." His eyes glanced down the small hallway to where Kassia's room was. "She's been in there for the last two hours. I haven't hear anything out of her, but I don't think she's asleep either . . . I could be wrong though. It's been about 30 minutes since I checked on her."
"I'll go take a look. If you ever need to talk, Troy, you know where to find me. It's always rough the first time," Tarik said as he got up and walked to Kassia's room.
Troy watched as Tarik disappeared into his sister's room and looked at the bottle of rum. With a sigh, he decided it was time to stop. Carefully, he put the bottle up, though is coordination wasn't where it should be. He then went to the couch and laid down to gaze out the porthole some more. Maybe out in the darkness he could find comfort.
As Tarik entered Kassia's room, he found her laying on her bed curled up and staring off into the darkness.
She seemed surprised as she turned her green eyes to him. She was pale and drawn. She forced a smile. "Hi . . ." was all she could seem to muster. The sick feeling in her stomach had lessened, but had not gone away.
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
The pain was evident in her eyes. "I don't know . . . It's just . . . everything . . . The turbolift was just more than I could take, I guess . . ." she replied, sounding a little defeated.
"You made it, though. I'm proud of you for that!" he said placing his hand on her shoulder.
She smiled softly. "But now I'm so sick . . . At least I was able to do some good in sickbay though . . . At least that's something . . ."
"You did a lot of good. For others and for yourself. The last I checked, Dr. Strik is still on his way from Vulcan. We'll get you help!"
"I'm worried about Troy too . . ." she said. "He just took several lives . . . I know he's struggling with it emotionally . . . Of course, if you get right down to it, I was just as responsible. I showed Troy how to use the grenade . . . But he doesn't see it that way . . ."
"And I showed you how to use that grenade, and years ago someone else showed me how to use it. For that matter, some poor fool in a factory somewhere helped manufacture it. There's only so far you can take blame," Tarik said. "You did what you had to do to survive. That's all. If you and Troy hadn't done anything, many more people who wanted nothing to do with any of this would have died. I'd just as soon trade ten individuals who were bred to kill for any one individual on this station. Don't crucify yourself over this. It's not worth it."
"I don't want Troy to crucify himself . . ." she said simply. "Actually there are a lot of things I want . . . But they seem so far out of reach right now . . ." She sighed and stared off into the darkness again.
"He won't, not if I can help it. I've been where he is; if he needs to talk about it my door is always open to him," Tarik attempted to reassure her. He knew, though, that no amount of talking would make any difference. "And right now a lot of things seem out of reach, but they won't be for long. What is it that you want?"
"I want to not be afraid anymore," she replied. "I don't want to be paralyzed with this fear I have. The memories are so strong . . . I feel as if a part of me was taken . . . Just ripped from me . . . This interferes with my life. With who I am . . ." she looked at him. "I'm no longer the woman you use to know . . . I don't know if I ever will be again . . . I am just so tired of being afraid . . ." The weariness was in her eyes, in her face, in her voice. It was more than physical weariness. It was emotional weariness.
Tarik suddenly became worried. He was way out of his league here, and didn't know exactly what to say or do. "None of us are who we used to be. War has a way of doing that to people. But I still love you and I will still be here for you, no matter what! You will get all these things back, and more. Do you know what the true definition of courage is?" he asked.
She shook her head. She hadn't read the dictionary yet . . . Not all of it anyway.
"Courage isn't the absence of fear; that's stupidity. Courage is the ability to go on in spite of fear. And you, my dear, have shown more courage over the past few months than most people even attempt to show in a lifetime. Once this nonsense is over with, you'll be a person of immense personal power--just mark my words!"
She smiled softly. "I hope you're right . . . Can you stay for awhile?" she asked, her green eyes reflection strong emotions.
"Unless and until I'm called away, I'll stay," Tarik said. He'd been relieved once the attack had ended; the station was in presumably capable hands at least for the next watch. "As for my being right, it's bound to happen once in a while!"
She smirked again and then became serious once more. "Would you share my bed?" she asked gently. "I . . . I'd like you to hold me . . . I'll . . . I'll feel safer . . . Maybe I'll finally be able to sleep then . . ."
"You had only to ask," Tarik said as he joined her, feeling only slightly self-conscious about having not bathed in the past 48 hours. Then again, neither had anyone else...
As his arm slid around her waist, she felt a part of herself calm down. She snuggled closer into him as her eyes shut. "I love you, Tarik. Don't ever doubt that . . ." she said.
"And I love you too," Tarik said, his weariness suddenly enveloping him.