Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Stay with us.” 

It was a reasonably gentle order from M’Benga and distantly La’an thought that maybe he’d said it to her before. The memory was fractured and she couldn’t quite place it but in it she was sure she heard her own voice answering back, ‘I wish I could’. 

She didn’t wish that at all right now. All La’an wanted was to be far away from where they were; to drift off into a blank space where the air wasn’t thick with unwashed people crowded together, every one of them drenched in dried blood and fear. 

La’an closed her eyes and tried to ignore the smells and the noises and the cloying heat that beat down on her. She couldn’t completely block out Joseph though, with his solid forearm pressed into her shoulder and his head bent close so that his deep whisper reached only her ears. 

“La’an.”

She hadn’t just heard his words before; the desperate, almost pleading way he spoke her name was familiar too. 

“La’an.” 

La’an open her eyes slowly at the sound of her name. She was lying on the ground, on the deck of the Puget Sound, and the voice calling for her was coming from across the hallway. It was the only noise too. The constant hums and whirrs and shouts and clangs from living on a colony ship that La’an still hadn’t gotten used were almost all gone, and what remained was muffled and weak.

On La’an's left side were the doors to the four classrooms assigned to the kids in their neighbourhood, with  meshes of leafy green and purple plants, brilliant-white bulkheads and soft light panels spaced between them. Most of the Puget Sound’s hallways had looked exactly the same at first, but in the last month the sterile white panels around the residences and common areas had been covered over with sprayed art and hangings made of every kind of fabric. 

La’an though was blinking up at the line of windows on the other side of the corridor. Windows were rare in the ship walkways and there was usually at least one person staring out of the ones that lined the outer hull. Honestly La’an didn’t see the appeal, and she definitely didn’t understand why the ship’s designers had put all of the classrooms along this window filled corridor. La’an at least didn’t need to be reminded that they were in a big titanium shell ploughing through space. 

The crescent slither of view through the thick layered windows that La’an could see from the floor seemed even darker than usual, like the stars had all decided to move further away from them.

She’d been walking home from lessons, pulling Dhia along behind her as they tried to catch up with Manu. He liked to pretend his little sister wasn’t his little sister when he was walking with his friends. Which was fine with La’an except when she really wanted to join them playing in the cargo bays. She’d have to remember not to say ‘playing’ when she asked to go too this time; the kids Manu hung out with were all too old to play, even though thats exactly what it was when they chased each other screaming and laughing between the crates and pallets. 

La’an had almost caught up to Manu when she’d felt something slam into her back and push her to the ground. The air; it had been air rushing down the corridor that had slammed her to the ground. The punch of a sudden vacuum before emergency seals locked into place and atmosphere was pumped back in through the vents. 

La’an had had to learn a whole bunch of terrifying emergency procedures before coming onboard the colony ship, even though Mum promised nothing bad would happen. Some kind of hull breach made sense, but La’an wasn’t breathing the too clean recycled air that she’d become familiar with. This tasted different. And next to her Dhia was still unconscious, with two boys from their class crumpled on the floor on her other side, all shallow breathing. 

“La’an.”

She looked up ahead and saw Manu crouched over a haphazard pile of his friends unmoving bodies. Her big brother was always confident. If he was being too cheeky Dad called him cocky. He acted like he knew everything and annoyingly he usually did; but right now Manu just looked scared, and La’an didn’t like that one bit. 

“La’an.” Manu’s eyes darted up and down the corridor as he spat out her name too harshly for a whisper. “Come here.”

La’an really didn’t understand what had happened, what was still happening, so she did the only thing that felt safe- going to her brother. La’an wasn’t sure if she would have gotten up and ran to him if she could have but as soon as she started to move it had felt like her lungs were burning and her own body was almost too heavy to carry. Instead she’d crawled on her hands and knees over to him. La’an realised then that the kids from their class weren’t staying on the ground for the same reason that they’d fallen; there was something in the air keeping them down. Before La’an could tell Manu though he threw himself over her the moment she reached him.

La’an was still trying to burrow out from under his arm when a shadow fell over them both. The shape wasn’t human but it moved upright on two legs, with a long tail sweeping behind it. La’an didn’t even realise the creature was wearing a spacesuit until it had passed them, she’d assumed the layered plating of fabricated material was scales. If she’d thought for a moment the thing inside might be even a little like human though that vanished the moment she saw it’s too big eyes shimmering wetly behind the faceplate of the helmet and a stubby muzzle of grinning, sharp white teeth. 

Last year in school La’an’s class had done a project about cold blooded animals. Manu had delighted in telling her that there were people in the galaxy who looked like walking crocodiles, and they could take of her arm with one snap of their jaws. She hadn’t believed him of course, he’d just been trying to scare her, but Dad had said it was true. At least, it was true that a reptile-like species existed. Not that they’d bite her arm off. They were called Gorn Dad told her but he promised that even if Manu pretended to be one, chasing her around the kitchen snatching at her arm, La’an would probably never see a Gorn in real life because they didn’t come close to Federation space. 

The Gorn in the spacesuit, she was sure that’s what it was, headed deeper into the ship, stepping around the small bodies littering it’s path. Out of sight, in the direction the thing had gone, La’an heard a faint bang followed by screaming then quiet. One of the outer corridor hatches the colonists had streamed though while boarding the Puget Sound in spacedock must have been blown for the Gorn to get on board. The pressure change would have lowered and sealed the internal hatches, and now the creatures were beginning to work their way through them.

After it had been quiet for a whole minute Manu got up and pulled La’an to her feet. She knew where they were going even without asking, giving in to Manu as he dragged her along the route to their family’s cabin that La’an had memorised and practiced a few days before they’d started school. One corridor they turned down had smears of blood all over the floor and walls, but even though they passed one of the ship’s crew with a still smoking wound in the middle of his chest, the rest of the people they passed were all unconscious like their classmates. 

The Noonien-Singh’s cabin was exactly the same as every other colonist family’s; a single living area, with no kitchen as they had meals in the communal dining areas, and two inner rooms. One of those rooms was a bedroom for their parents and the another for La’an and Manu to share. Manu headed straight for their parents’ room but the door didn’t slide open for him when he reached the sensor. He shoved against it with his shoulder but it still wouldn’t move. Manu kicked it in frustration before they heard a rummaging noise on the other side and then a whining of gears as the motor released. La’an barely had time to register that their dad was in front of them before he threw one arm around Manu’s shoulder and the other hooked around La’an’s neck and pulled them both against him.

Inside the room Manu and Dad quickly started to move the pieces of furniture wrenched loose from the deck back in front of the now closed door. The effort made their breathing sound heavy and turned their voices to ragged whispers but La’an wasn’t listening to what they were saying. Her mum was on the floor between the bed and the wall, slumped where La’an assumed her dad had put her. She wasn’t awake like the three of them but La’an dropped to her knees and wormed her way under her mum’s limp, sleep-heavy arm. She pressed her face into Mum’s shirt, as close as she could get until she could feel and hear a still-beating heart. The raspberry coloured shirt couldn’t have gone through the ship’s laundry yet because it still smelled like home; rain and grass, sweet mandarins and fire smoke.

Her brother and dad had stopped talking. Manu came over and pressed his back to the wall, then slid down to the floor, laying his head on Mum’s shoulder. Dad hit the floor too, dropping himself between the three of them and the barricaded door. No one said anything more but La’an felt like they were all waiting for something to happen, and she didn’t want to think about what that something would be. La’an closed her eyes and wished that the poisoned air would take her away before whatever had left the blood on the walls found them. 

And it had. 

La’an hadn’t had much time to be relieved about that though. 

A few days later she’d heard her mum telling Manu that the Gorn must have infected people with eggs while they’d still been unconscious on the ship. After they’d won up no-one suspected anything more awful had happened than being abandoned on a jungle thick planet and their new home stolen from them. It had been days before they’d realised that the largest and healthiest people had been selected to incubate and feed growing eggs. 

And once the Gorn had grown there’d still been plenty of colonists to provide a first meal, a second, a third…

Many days, months maybe, later La’an had finally been caught. By then she’d lost everyone she’d known; from her own family to the grounds keeper from the level five gardens who used to give her and Dhia sweets. She’d never seen Dhia again after the sixth day.

La’an knew what was coming next for her, but it hadn’t been a juvenile Gorn who’d hauled her kicking and screaming by the ankle from the debris of a shuttlecraft; the adults were back. Something was pressed over her face, a mask that couldn’t quite fit her features, with hard ridges than cut against her cheeks, and the burning pain she’d almost forgotten about, the one that had been buried under a thousand pains since, filled her lungs. 

The Gorn didn’t know that she could resist the effects of the gas, for a while at least, so La’an screwed her eyes shut and played dead. Through barely open lids and the haze of her eyelashes La’an had watched them. Limp in the arms of one Gorn a pack of others, varying in height and shade, waved strange objects over her and made noises similar to the babies but sounded more precise and purposeful, even though the universal translator didn’t turn any of it into words La’an could understand. 

Finally, just as the gas felt like it might finally pull her into unconsciousness, La’an was carried into a darkened room and laid her down almost gently on a pile of blankets. Then the Gorn who’d held her, and the five or six others trailing behind it, just walked away. When a door slammed shut and La’an heard the hiss of pressure seals she fought the urge to cry out. She didn’t want to be alone here. A roaring wave of sound ripped through the walls and the floor, and La’an felt the pull of gravity fighting against her escape. Then there was nothing except the barely perceptible murmur of whatever passed for life support systems, and the deepening cold. 

She didn’t understand why they hadn’t just let her die on the breeding planet. She knew she couldn’t be used as an egg sack, there was barely anything left of her, and she was too small and bony to be a meal since the babies had grown so much bigger. But they’d pulled her from her hiding place and sent her out into empty space instead of leaving her to waste away into the ground that had soaked up her family’s blood. When La’an had given up on moving and crying she waited again for something to come for her. She was sure it would be death this time but Una came instead.

After leaving the King Jnr. and Una behind, their duty done with her rescue and immediate medical care, La’an had been passed over to Federation Social Care Services. She’d been uninterested in the discussions they’d had about her, not with her, over whether a group home or a foster family was the right choice of placement, but the end result was ending up back on Earth in a foster home. 

While she was there La’an grudgingly swallowed every one of the small, round, powder-pink pills that her foster parents duly handed over at breakfast each day. Washing the bitter taste away with orange juice she wondered if maybe they’d thought she’d be more normal taking them. That she’d talk, and eat at the table, and play with the other kids. 

Instead she chewed at the inside of her mouth to keep from screaming; chewed until she spat blood into the bathroom sink. She refused to eat in front of anyone and instead stashed food in her pockets when no-one was looking and kept her hoard hidden in her bedroom. When the other kids, a mix of fosters and the family’s own, ran shrieking around the garden or through the house La’an heard dying cries and crunching bones. 

She saw Gorn too. Prowling amongst the trees and bushes around the house, lurking in the dark corners of the unfamiliar rooms at night, even in the corner of her vision out at the local market. Closing her eyes didn’t work; there were always flashes of dark darting across the brightness of her closed eyelids. 

Whenever she could La’an hid under the bed in her room. The scratchy thick carpet had left permanent burns on her elbows and knees from crawling into the tight space and the fabric of the mattress bulged between the hard wooden slats and skimmed the top of her shoulders and head. That was how La’an waited for them to come. 

But under the bed she was trapped with the smell of blood and fluid-soaked dirt that she carried on her skin. It didn’t matter that she’d taken three showers after breakfast or that she only breathed through her mouth. The rotten sweet smell of dead things forced its way in to the back of her throat. 

Until she smelled strawberries. 

It was Saturday and the other kids had all been dragged out of the house by Amir. After trying to convince La’an to go with them he’d sighed but left her in her hiding place. She’d heard him talking outside the bedroom door with Ethan but knew they’d both given up trying to forcibly drag her out since she’d bitten Amir. Ethan would stay and watch her. Or at least stay in the house with her, in the kitchen preparing a big lunch for when everyone got back. That meant there’d be fresh bread rolls that would be easy to steal if La'an waited long enough for them to cool down and they were filling enough that when she’d sneak to her stash late in the night once everyone else was asleep they’d quiet the gnawing hunger of missing meals throughout the day. 

La’an had been fighting her closing eyes, trying desperately to stay awake and alert, when she’d blinked and then jerked awake, thumping her head into a slat of the bed above. And there, in her line of sight, was a wooden bowl tilted slightly on the thick carpet. Rising over the smooth polished rim of the bowl was a heap of dark red strawberries.

“Chief?” She whispered.

La’an felt like crying with relief when a voice answered her. “It’s okay, it’s safe. You wanna come out?”

La’an saw and heard a lot of things that she knew weren’t real, so very slowly she belly crawled across the floor until she could see just beyond the frame of the bed. Una wasn’t in her uniform. The trousers looked like the same fit but they were pale grey and had no shining stripe up the leg and she was wearing a white top with looser fitting bumblebee-yellow fabric layered over it. 

She looked like summer La’an decided, and she wanted nothing more than to climb into Una’s laps and just stay there.

Instead she scrabbled out from under the bed and away from Una until her back was against the bookcase stuffed with children’s books. She resisted the urge to pull her knees up against her chest and crossed her legs in front of her instead. 

Una nudged the bowl a little closer to La’an. A strawberry that had been balanced on top of the pile teetered with the movement but Una caught it before it could tumble to the carpet, biting it in half a moment later.

Hesitantly La’an took one too. Before it even touched her lips the smell of the berry made her mouth water. Luckily any drool was covered by the red juice that bust out of it as she bit down. La’an felt the sticky patch of juice in the corner of her mouth but didn’t lick it away. It was the first time she’d eaten anything and not felt the uncontrollable need to make sure she’d finished every single crumb. 

They kept going like that, taking turns picking a strawberry from the bowl, until it was empty and La’an felt her mouth and brain both fizzing from the sugar high. 

They didn’t speak until La’an asked, “Why did you come back?” 

“Wherever you go, remember.” 

Una had her made that promise, tapping over La’an’s heart, before they’d said their goodbyes. 

“That’s what you say when you can’t be with someone,” La’an said and dropped her eyes to the carpet, and the bowl that now only held the discarded leafy green stems of the strawberries. 

When she looked back up Una nodded in agreement with her. 

Una never tried to sugarcoat things the way the counsellors did. She never treated La’an like the child who needed to be lied to to be kept placid and cooperative. 

“That’s true. But it also means I’ll always come back.”

La’an pressed her palm against her chest and felt the ghost of fingertips tapping against her heart. 

Then and now. 

She was solid and real and whole. She was on a Gorn ship. She was with M’Benga and Ortegas. Sam Kirk. The Parnassus Beta colonists and the remnants of Cayuga’s crew. 

And they were all waiting. 

So many times La’an had seen death come. But not for her, never for her. For La’an it had been Una. 

She wasn’t sure who would come this time. Perhaps Death was finally due to catch up with the small fish who’d been thrown back into the inky depths of space all those years ago. 

La’an felt Joseph’s hand press down on her shoulder. She was sitting on the slightly damp deck but couldn’t remember how she’d gotten there. Her back was pressed against a wall that felt unnaturally distorted. 

Ortegas crouched beside the doctor, wide eyed and silent. Sam Kirk loomed over her, determined and terrified.

La’an took a deep, steadying breath. 

She knew it couldn’t be real but she would have sworn she smelt strawberries. 

Una was coming, she knew, and Death would have to take it up with her. La’an didn’t like Death’s chances.

M’Benga’s voice sounded sturdier when he spoke. “You good?”

“Yeah.” La’an nodded. “I’m good.”

Chapter Text

The second La’an heard the sound she froze. Phaser fire. Specifically Starfleet issue phaser fire. She knew that sound deep down into her bones and would recognise it anywhere. Even here. That sharp snap zipping through the air on the weapon’s release, and the crackling ozone it left behind. After hours and hours spent on practice ranges at the academy, and then various starships and stations, La’an was as familiar with it as any engineer was with the thrum of a warp core.

But La’an's team were behind her (M’Benga, Ortegas, Kirk and two Cayuga Lieutenants) and all of their hand phasers and rifles had been taken after being transported to the Gorn ship. Since escaping from the holding cell they’d cobbled together an interesting array of improvised weapons but they hadn’t managed to find any energy weapons, not even on the Gorn crew that they’d taken out. 

Following close on the heels of the phaser fire came the hissing and screeching of injured Gorn. Those were noises La’an had gotten used to hearing on this ship, at least since they’d been on the move through the corridors. Along with the snapping of bones in articulated tails, and the wet punch of a blade breaking through toughened, scaly skin. All of which La’an found viscerally satisfying in a way that she’d only examine after they’d gotten out of here. 

Now there was only silence in the corridors ahead and La’an was certain she could hear the racing of Sam Kirk’s heart in the quiet before a voice called out, “It’s safe. You can come out.”

Was she imagining things again? La’an had been trying so hard to hold on but maybe her mind had just wandered off again. This time to its safest place; where the owner of that voice told her that everything would be okay, even when it clearly wasn’t.

But no, La’an was here in the moment still. 

She could feel Joseph’s thigh against hers where they both crouched on the deck. His arm reached over her shoulder and one large hand pressed flat on the bulkhead, braced and ready to push himself up into action. Erica’s palm was splayed on La’an’s middle back, ready to follow the second her commanding officer broke cover for the next engagement. 

La’an heard both of their breaths catch in reaction to the words too. 

Her fingers flexed around the long piece of metal in her right hand, some kind of structural brace she’d forcibly ripped from the ship imagining she was taking off a Gorn’s arm. Even with her fingers blood slicked La’an felt certain the grip she had on the rough textured material she’d wrapped the end in was sure enough to land a crippling blow. 

Holding her left hand out behind her to signal to Ortegas to stay in position, La’an stood and stepped into the junction of the two corridors. Despite the haze created by the ship’s swampy heat and the lizards’ shit excuse for lighting La’an could see a person at the end of the long corridor. 

And not just any person. 

Una. 

In midnight-black body armour the commander was almost swallowed up by the murk of the hallway, but even the dimmest of light managed to pick out the colour that was woven into the wing-shaped chest piece. Una glittered like the promise of gold dust in the dark.

La’an took one step forward but couldn’t bring herself to move any closer; though it was everything she wanted. Luckily she didn’t need to try because in a half dozen long strides Una was right in front of her, pulling La’an into her arms. One powerfully strong forearm pressed across La’an’s shoulders, so hard that she was sure it would leave a bruise, and sharp nails dug into her scalp as Una’s hand held the back of La’an’s head. It actually hurt, but La’an didn’t care. Pain meant this was real. That Una was real. 

La’an’s heart pounded so hard now that it filled her ears and made her skull throb. Not knowing any other way to make it stop she pressed herself closer to the older woman’s body, wishing that the stupid, bulky body armour they both wore wasn’t between them. La’an wanted to return the hug but her arms refused to cooperate any further than allowing her to reach Una’s hips, where her fingers grasped for the familiar texture of the uniform shirt beneath the bottom edge of the armour. 

La’an’s lungs felt as though they were burning, like she’d been holding her breath for hours in the darkest depths of an ocean, swimming desperately for the surface. Forcing down the creeping panic she drew in a long, deep breath through her nose. Una didn’t smell like the strawberries that had been ghosting La’an’s senses since she’d been on the Gorn ship. She smelled of orange blossom and cedar; some unique blend of body wash and perfume, and magic for all La’an knew. 

She tried to take another deep breath, to hold onto Una with every sense she had, but couldn’t. Instead La’an found herself pulling in gulps of air desperately around what she realised were sobs. 

Her eyes burned and when she squeezed them shut to blink away the prickling pain La’an felt hot tears escape, tracing down her cheeks. Her body was shaking too; her muscles betrayed her with spasms just as her eyes were with tears. Distantly La’an hoped that if her team had come out from cover that M’Benga’s bulk would block Sam Kirk or Ortegas’ view of her. She didn’t want either of them seeing her come apart like this. She didn’t want them to see that the only thing holding her breaking pieces together right now was Una. 

Impossibly Una’s hold on La’an seemed to tighten and the pounding in her ears faded enough that she began to register the movement of others around them. The rest of the team Una had brought with her had moved past the two of them and were checking on those La’an had been leading through the ship. Lieutenant Salah, a security officer from the Cayuga, was more than capable of giving a report on the tactical situation and La’an did hear unintelligible fragments of sentences in his low, unshakable voice. She also made out shards of Joseph and Sam’s voices. They’d be able to give details on the condition of their still-captive people, and what they’d learned of the Gorn’s behaviour since arriving in this hell. 

La’an didn’t want to hear it. 

She didn’t want to be here. 

She didn’t want to be strong anymore, and she didn’t want to be holding all those other people’s lives in her shaking hands. 

Instead she clung to the words that were closer. Una’s words, which were being whispered so close to La’an’s ear that only she would hear them. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

In a cracked whisper of her own, La’an managed to say, “I want to go home.”

As soon as she spoke La’an felt Una’s rigid, protective posture slacken. With a sigh of relief Una relaxed her hold enough so that she could lean her torso back from La’an. Her forearms fell onto La’an’s shoulders and her hands moved to hold the sides of La’an’s head at her temples. Una’s thumbs brushed at the wisps of hair that had stuck to La’an’s skin in the humidity of the ship.

Una had either hoped and planned ahead for this scenario, or she was willing to throw rescue mission protocols out of the airlock for La’an. She reached down for the communicator attached to the flank of her armour and flipped it open. 

“Number One to Enterprise. Two to beam back on my signal.”

Chapter Text

Una had let go of La’an, sidestepping just an arms length away just as the transporter took hold. La’an actually bit down on her tongue to stop herself from shouting ‘don’t leave’ into the enveloping nothingness. The metallic taste of blood rematerialised in her mouth, along with the rest of her, in Enterprise’s transporter room. La’an screwed her eyes up against the brilliance of the blue light strips on the curved outer wall of the chamber and the harsh white phase transition coils overhead; everything was too bright after being confined to the murk of a Gorn ship for hours. 

La’an heard Una give a calm and direct order to whoever was at the transporter console but she didn’t take in any of the actual words, too busy keeping her head down and her blurry, stinging gaze on Una’s dark-gold painted nails. Una flexed her fingers absently. It had taken La’an a couple years of knowing the older woman to work out that the gesture usually meant Una wanted to fight something, but knew better than to try. Sometimes though she did it when she wanted to hold on so tight to someone that she might never let them go, but pragmatism won out over emotions; that La’an knew well from two decades of always having to say goodbye to each other. 

Before La’an could figure out which of those battles were going on in Una’s head right now, Una’s fingers were caught up in a swirl of light and dissolved into nothing in the shimmering beams. La’an had to fight the urge to reach out and grab for Una before she was gone, but then the same glittering energy travelling up Una’s arm and body filled La’an’s vision too. 

In a blink that wasn’t a blink they were both standing inside La’an’s quarters. 

Una reached out to take La’an’s hand in her own and without a word La’an allowed Una to guide her over to the couch on the far side of the cabin. Una took a seat on the light-grey cushions and La’an followed suit. She felt stupid that she had to swallow down a bitter rush of panic the second Una let go of her hand, and tried not to think about transporter stealing Una away; gold-painted fingertips desperately reaching for her but never finding hold. But then Una was touching La’an’s face, her neck, her hands- a thorough field medic assessment of La’an which discovered every graze and bruise that wasn’t concealed by the body armour she was still trapped in. Body armour that was suddenly far too tight. 

La’an tried to take a deep, steadying breath but that only made her feel more confined; like the restrictive chest plate was fighting back, squeezing and crushing her. 

Desperately La’an fumbled for the release catches at her sides. 

“Off. I need this off.” 

The armour, her shirt, all of it. 

She was gulping in breathes now, drowning on nothing. When the air hit the back of her throat it left a sour taste. Like sweat and blood and stale vomit.

Una quickly caught up La’an’s now trembling hands in her own. “Let me.”

With a quick snap the constricting armour released and Una lifted the uniform piece over her head. While La’an forced herself to regain control over her ragged breathing Una placed the armour down on the floor, as far away from La’an as she could reach without moving from her spot on the couch. It wasn’t far enough, and La’an wasn’t sure she even knew what she was feeling, let alone find the words to explain it to Una. But of course she didn’t need to. 

The rest of La’an’s uniform, covered in the absolute worst things that could come out of humans, and Gorn, followed the armour to the floor until she was sat on the couch in only her briefs and undershirt. Una had helped La’an out of them with no more fuss than if she were cleaning up a little kid who’d gotten dirty while playing outside.

“Do you want to shower?” Una asked.

God yes; so much yes. But La’an didn’t think she had enough energy left to stand for one, even if she took the quickest shower of her life, so she just shook her head. 

“La’an, I need to do a medical scan.” An involuntary groan rumbled up La’an’s throat but Una pushed on. “That was the deal I made with Chapel if I didn’t take you straight to sickbay.”

La’an’s head snapped up and she blinked rapidly, the effort pulling Una’s face into sharper focus. “Christine? She’s here?”

La’an hadn’t even noticed the medical tricorder slung over Una’s shoulder until now, as the older woman tugged the strap and pulled the boxy machine into her lap. 

Una smiled, quite the accomplishment considering everything they’d all gone through in the past few hours. 

“She’s here. Spock got her home.”

After the landing party had gotten to the planet and confirmed Christine wasn’t among the Cayuga crew stranded on the colony, La’an had forcibly shoved down any thoughts of her friend’s fate; she suspected M’Benga and Erica had done the same. By the time they were on the Gorn ship… well they would have to survive their own situation before they could even think about beginning to mourn for the people they’d lost. 

But Christine was alive, and back on Enterprise where she was meant to be. So was Joseph, and Erica, and La’an. 

Una released the scanner from the main unit of the tricorder and passed the instrument in a crescent over La’an’s head, then down her chest and abdomen, then finally along each of her arms and legs.

“All clear.” 

Having served its purpose the tricorder joined the pile of uniform pieces on the deck and then Una stood. La’an tilted her head back and blinked up at her friend cluelessly, unsure exactly what was meant to happen next. She very much hoped that Una would let her know so that she wouldn’t have to do any more thinking tonight. 

Una’s flittering smile, from sharing the news about Christine, set a little more firmly on her lips. “Come on, you need to sleep.” 

Una took La’an’s hands again and hauled her up onto her feet. On wobbly legs La’an navigated around the armchair and the end of the bed, then practically collapsed onto the mattress once Una pulled the cover aside. She curled up on her side, driving one arm under the pillow and wrapping the other around her stomach before Una tucked her in like she was a child. 

Despite being warm, and cosy, and exhausted La’an was reluctant to close her eyes just yet. The dreams, well nightmares, that she’d had after facing the Gorn at Finibus III and then on the Peregrine were recent enough to be vivid and painful, and she had no desire to return to them. La’an must have winced from either the memories or the brightness of Enterprise’s lighting, which was still jarring, because Una ordered softly, “Computer lower the room lighting sixty percent.” 

In the shadowy light La’an watched Una remove her own body armour then unzip her boots, kicking them off against the wall. The items clattered as they hit the floor and La’an tried not to hear an echo of claws scrabbling across decking beneath the sound. 

Una settled on the edge of the bed beside La’an’s tucked up form and reached over to stroke La’an’s hair. 

“It’s okay. You’re home. You’re safe.”

After she’d overheard Una’s secret, learned she’d been lied to for years, La’an had wondered, even if only for a little while, how she’d ever be able to believe Una again. She’d never regret choosing to give Una her forgiveness and her trust though, not when in return Una gave her this: shelter, family, home. Enterprise hummed beneath Una’s words and La’an closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Somehow the crisp recycled air smelled like sweet grass on a warm spring afternoon. 

When she opened her eyes Manu was sat on the floor beside the bed: knees pulled up, arms looped around them, fingers laced together. He was smiling at her just like he had when she’d seen him on the bridge beneath a shower of electrical sparks from exploding consoles, but his calm composure didn’t look out of place anymore. He was sat just the same way he would on the floor of their family’s quarters on the Puget Sound while they all watched movies together. The couch had only been big enough for two adults, with just enough space left over for La’an to snuggle in between their parents, so Manu would always take the floor. Whenever he’d tilt his head back to look up at her the action on screen would project across his face, his eyes and smile caught in it’s story.

It wasn’t just Manu that La’an could see this time; her dad was standing there next to him. Dad was turned slightly away from La’an looking out the high cabin window and for a moment his features swam and blurred, as if she’d lost the memories of what he’d once looked like. Then he turned to look right at her, eyes bright and lips quirked, pulling up one side of his mouth into a lopsided smile. His straight black hair was neatly parted and closely shaved up the sides, and suddenly La’an remembered how soft the fuzz on the back of his neck had felt beneath her fingers when she hugged him.

And there was her mum,  sat in the armchair at the foot of the bed. Mum’s lips moved faintly and from where La’an lay on the bed it felt as though her breath was tickling La’an’s ear along with Una’s reassurances. A ghost whisper of “It’s okay. You’re home. You’re safe.”

La’an closed her eyes again and this time, sure she wouldn’t be alone, she embraced the darkness.