Chapter Text
Ben’s the kind of kid that's a little too solemn, who knows what he wants and works quietly towards it, ducking his head at praise from parents and teachers. He's never been the kind to rush into anything, deliberation always more important than action, the need to know a constant presence in his life.
Ben knows what he’s signing up for, when he sees the man in cadet reds walk into the greenhouse and thinks fuck, he’s handsome.
He knows what he’s signing up for when he goes out on a second, third, fifth date, when he asks Hikaru to move out of his dorm and into his apartment, when he turns over the soil in a new plot at work one day and sees the ring, spinning around to see his boyfriend on one knee with hope emanating out of every crevice.
He knows what he’s singing up for when he walks down the aisle with the sun in his eyes, and when one day, he looks over at his husband chopping vegetables from their garden in brisk, self-assured movements and can only think I want to raise a kid with him.
They both know what they’re signing up for when Hikaru accepts the commission on the Enterprise. Five years is a long time to be away, and there’s no guarantee of shore leave in any one particular place, but Hikaru belongs among the stars that shine as brightly as he does and Ben never wants to hold him back, never wants to cover and snuff out that glow, but silently, selfishly wishes he could bottle starlight and wear it under his shirt, next to his heart anyway.
But the stars that are draped in the night sky and the universe beyond beckon, and Ben knows he could never compete with the promise of everything.
Still, neither of them can stomach the thought of five years and no contact. Ben looks up stations where the Enterprise will have the best chance to pass by, and Hikaru buys two PADDs capable of long-distance subspace communication. Ben gets his flyboy a little Myrtus nivellei clipping and Hikaru gets him a Lilium orientalis bulb and they laughed as Demora, tiny little Demora with her dirt-streaked hands and green fingertips, tells them impatiently that the myrtle will grow too big for any starship to hold and Hikaru kisses her nose and tells her he’ll find a way to keep it anyway.
Ben tells Hikaru that he’ll call every day, and he can’t help but notice the way Hikaru’s face falls ever-so-slightly as he tells him that his schedule is uncertain. Ben holds Hikaru’s face and tells him that he will call, every day, so Hikaru better forward him a schedule or expect to start answering calls on the bridge. Hikaru’s face softens as he grins, snapping off a crisp “Aye, Captain!” and Ben can’t help but grin back as he lowers his hands to beckon to Demora, lifting her up to pepper her Papa’s face with kisses before he goes.
Moving from San Francisco to Yorktown is easier than either of them had thought it would be. Demora is young, too young to really notice that their entire situation has changed, young enough that eventually, she won’t remember anything but the twisting metal city and the stars twinkling everywhere around her when the city shuts off its daylight display. The place is prepped for new colonists, offering jobs and plots of sterile metal land and houses to anyone who needs one.
Ben gets a job as a botanist. The soil under his hands feels good, feels familiar. The roots that he places in it are alien.
He calls his husband every day. Sometimes, the Enterprise is close enough to send and transmit video, and Ben stares at his husband’s face, tracing every deepening line, relearning the face he tries so hard not to forget. But memory is ephemeral and he can’t help but be surprised at just how strong the stab of longing is, every time he sees his husband and realizes he’s forgotten the way that hair falls, the way that tooth is a little out of alignment, the way his upper lip quirks just so when he sees their daughter. Every time, he tries (not very successfully) to squash down the bitterness that the Enterprise was so close but can’t stop, can’t let him hold his husband, can’t understand how much emptier he feels without the knowledge that his husband is here and alive and safe.
Usually, Demora is there as he calls, eyes shining in childish glee as she waits to talk to her Papa. Usually, Hikaru answers, voice chipper with excitement as he tells Demora about deep space and asks about her day and she pleads with him for more about the stars before relenting and telling him about this-or-that project that she’s working on now.
Usually.
When the PADD rings twelve times before falling into silence, flashing a “Call not received” on the screen, Ben’s heart skips a beat even as Demora’s face falls. When she looks back at him, the corners of her mouth downturned, eyes starting to shine with unshed tears, he barely remembers to school his face into a smile and tell her that Papa’s okay, Papa’s just busy, we’ll call him tomorrow, okay?
Demora nods and smiles and heads off to do her homework, because this isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. Ben shakes himself and follows her, knowing that he’ll want to berate Hikaru tomorrow and will take one look at him and won’t be able to, not when none of this is his fault and Ben is safe in the knowledge that he’s okay.
Hikaru doesn’t pick up for sixteen days.
Demora starts crawling into his bed on day three, and Ben holds her until she falls asleep, gripping onto his shirt with her little hands that seem too small to be so strong. She’ll tell him that she's a big girl and doesn’t need to be held in the morning, he knows, but he cherishes this moment anyway, watching the bow of her mouth rise and fall and her little nose flare as she sleeps, pieces of Hikaru scattered across her face.
On day five, Ben starts waiting for the Starfleet officers to show up at his door, to tell him his husband is dead, to offer him apologies and condolences and leave him with a Federation flag and a daughter to raise alone out in the darkness of space without even the ground under his feet to keep him steady.
On day seven, he receives a call from the legendary Captain James T. Kirk telling him that it’s Jim, drop the “Captain,” really, and that Hikaru’s okay, there was an away mission gone wrong but “Bones” has done his job and Hikaru has pulled through and is in a light coma but will almost certainly survive, he’s sorry he had to wait this long before calling but Starfleet’s policy says he has to so he doesn’t give anyone false hope, what can you do?
Ben barely hears him over the buzzing in his ears, can’t tell if he can control his mouth well enough to not tell “Jim” that false hope is better than nightmares of his husband floating in the freezing darkness of space, skin turning blue before swelling and exploding. He’s almost late picking Demora up, and for the first time, she doesn’t ask when they’re going to call Papa and stares sadly at the PADD as it rings.
He almost doesn’t call the next day, but he knows he would never forgive himself if Hikaru had to stare at the PADD ringing, hoping Yorktown hasn’t been attacked, wondering why Ben hasn’t called.
When Hikaru finally, finally picks up on the seventeenth day, he’s too exhausted and in pain to even force cheer into his voice, the melancholy that always lurks in the background brought front and center for all to see. When Hikaru trails off into silence in the middle of a sentence Ben’s heart stops until a gruff voice grumbles that he’s fine, just tired and in need of rest, softening as it tells Demora that her Papa will be okay, y’hear? As Ben ends the transmission, Demora’s lip is wobbling and he quickly pulls her into a hug, telling her that Papa is- Papa will be okay, the doctor said so, he’s hurt but he’ll be okay, and we’ll call him tomorrow and the day after that and hear him get better.
Demora peers up at him through tear-stained eyes distrustfully, and Ben’s heart breaks that much more. He presses a shaking kiss into her hair, then carries her into his (and Hikaru’s) bed, neither of them pretending that she, or he, wants to sleep alone tonight.
The next day dawns at exactly 0700, panels flipping on the atmosphere dome surrounding them, ushering in the light without a sun. Ben takes Demora to school and then goes to work, mechanically uprooting and replanting and tamping down dirt and checking soil nutrient level and dampness and temperature. He picks Demora up and they call Hikaru again that night, but he falls asleep in the middle of the call and Demora climbs off Ben’s lap and into his bed and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she needs to change and brush her teeth as she pouts at the pillow, trying to hold back tears and not quite succeeding because she’s never had to hide, not from her Papa and Daddy.
But Hikaru does get better, voice losing its scratchiness as he begins to tell Demora about the latest adventure they were on. Demora forgets that Hikaru was ever injured and demands more even as Ben pleads silently for him to never go on an adventure again, to come home to them and stay here, so that Ben can hold him and keep him safe and never hear him injured again. He can’t silence the little voice in the back of his head that wonders if Hikaru’s really okay, because a disembodied voice never seems quite real enough.
He can’t help the sigh of relief when he gets to video call Hikaru and he picks up, grinning ear to ear, safe and whole and blessedly alive.
Life marches on.
They settle into their new home, here in Yorktown. Demora makes friends and is out more and more often, but does her best to make it back to talk to Papa every day. Ben can’t help but notice how empty the apartment is without her, so he goes out and makes friends as well. One day Demora asks if Azlei can come over and play, and he answers that as long as Azlei’s parents are okay with it he is too. When a little boy with green skin and fins instead of ears shows up at their house the next day, he can't contain his shock for the briefest of moments, and smiles a little ruefully.
Both his daughter and his husband belong to this brave new world, but he still misses shaking the dust from his boots before going inside after a long day at work, tasting the moisture in the air change from day to night, squinting against the bright glare of the sun. He looks at his hands, impeccably clean from the sonic sink, not a speck of dirt under the nails, and shakes his head, still grinning, and moves to pull Demora off the back of the couch.
That night, Hikaru is almost vibrating with energy when he picks up. Ben doesn’t have time to take a breath before Hikaru tells them that the ship’s going to be stopping at Yorktown for a little bit, and he’ll get to see them in person, isn’t that exciting? Demora shouts and laughs and tells Hikaru just what she’s going to show him when he gets here, tells him that he better get here quick. Ben can’t stop smiling, not even as he finally has to tell his husband goodbye. He’s even smiling as he falls asleep.
Now it’s Ben’s turn to be vibrating with energy as he picks his daughter up from school and takes her to docking entrance 3, waiting in the warm light for Hikaru. At every flash of command gold Demora points and yells, until Hikaru walks through those doors and runs right to them, scooping Demora up into his arms as Ben touches him for the first time in what feels like forever, and Hikaru’s still in his uniform and smells like regulated, recycled starship air but his lips feel like coming home, and Ben never wants to let go as he guides Hikaru to their apartment.
Ben introduces Hikaru to their neighbors, and Demora shows him her drawings, and everything feels so very right for the first time in a very long time. Demora climbs into their bed that night and it’s a little crowded and she steals the blankets but it’s perfect, and Ben wants to take this moment and dry it and press it and keep it forever, and as his eyes meet Hikaru’s, he knows Hikaru feels the same way.
The universe, however, is not that kind. In two days, which is too short, will always be too short, the Enterprise is called away, and Hikaru goes, because he has a duty and his Captain is calling. But his eyes are sad and Ben can't help but feel selfishly, selfishly satisfied that he can tether his husband here, just for a little, before he slips through his fingers and floats off into the night sky again.
Hikaru tells Demora that it’ll be a couple of days, it’s a quick mission and he’ll be back before she knows it. Hikaru tells Ben that it’s a retrieval mission through an uncharted nebula, and they’re going to lose communications but it should be relatively easy, and he should pick up on the second or third day if Ben calls.
He doesn’t pick up. Ben feels like there is a hand around his heart, squeezing, and there’s not enough air but Demora’s looking at him again and so he smiles and tells her that Papa’ll be home soon and everything’s okay.
Except everything’s not okay and the next day, the city is shaking and falling to pieces around them and he’s holding Demora as tight as he can and running to where the Starfleet official is directing him as the sirens blare in warning, but he can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s not going to be safe and they might all die here, in the crushing loneliness of empty space, but he runs anyway as ships level buildings and he knows, he knows that Hikaru is dead somewhere in that nebula because the Enterprise isn’t here and his legs go numb and Demora starts crying in his ear.
The sky is filled with those little ships, swarming and buzzing like little bees and it would be almost funny if Ben wasn't so bone-shatteringly afraid, exhausted like he's never been before, and he feels the lethargic cold of space seeping into their perfectly temperature-regulated little bubble, and he's never felt so small, never felt so helpless.
It feels like he’s spent an eternity hiding, shushing Demora as she hiccups, covering her ears as he hears the rubble falling and hears the screams of dying citizens, and at each one he wonders, morbidly, if that’s how Hikaru sounded when he died, or if the vacuum of space swallowed up his last breath just like it swallowed up Ben’s. He puts his head over Demora’s and breathes in the smell of her shampoo and reminds himself to stay here for her, for her, even if he’s gone, forever, and Ben will never see him again, will have an empty casket and the Federation flag of unity to mourn over.
He can feel the ground shaking in pulses, and from the entrance of their little shelter he can see the sky light up in a blanket of flame and he closes his eyes and waits to die, turning his back to the entrance and blocking Demora’s view, waiting for the searing heat of the fire to rush across his back, hoping that at least his death will be quick, and he wonders, idly, if the little lily stalks on the other side of the city will survive this, and who will water them if they do.
But Ben doesn’t die and Hikaru’s not dead and the Enterprise is, and Ben as holds him he can feel how unsteady Hikaru is, he can’t tell if that trembling is his or Hikaru’s or Demora’s and all of them smell like smoke and ash and he’s grasping Hikaru’s shirt like it’s the only thing that’s keeping him here and in all honesty it might be, and Hikaru’s holding him just as tightly back and he feels Hikaru’s breath, feels his shirt slowly wet with Hikaru’s tears and when did he start crying, too, because now all of them are crying and holding each other in the middle of the broken city like nothing else matters because it doesn’t, it doesn’t, not when they’re here and together and alive.
He can’t tell how long they sit there, holding each other, trembling. It feels like being born again, holding his family in the middle of the smoking rubble that didn't feel like home until it was gone. They only get up because a man in a blue shirt with that voice, that gruff voice, tells them that they need to get down to Medical. Ben goes, and he’s holding Hikaru and Demora and he’s never going to let go, and by how tight they’re holding him back he knows that they’re never letting go either, and he might have a fractured rib and a damaged airway from smoke inhalation but he doesn't feel it through the texture of Hikaru’s shirt under his hands, Demora’s shoe pressing insistently against his thigh.
And when they fall into bed that night, Ben doesn't care that it's a cot, doesn't care that their apartment is gone and his greenhouse might be too, because his family is pressed close to him, keeping him warm, and he still wants to absorb them through his skin and keep them safe, forever, but for now, this is enough.
And a few months later they’re at a party, and Ben still can’t stop touching Hikaru to reassure himself that he’s real, and from the viewing window they see the shiny new Enterprise being revealed. He sees the hunger in Hikaru’s eyes, feels the crew crowd around them, all vying for a good glimpse at that ship, and he knows they’ll never stay grounded, not when their lady is begging them to fly free. But Hikaru is warm and alive in his arms, and he can’t bring himself to be jealous or bitter or afraid, because he can feel the exhilaration thrumming through the room like something alive, and he’s never wanted to hold Hikaru back, not when he’s made for something so much greater, not when eternity is just waiting to set him free.
Hikaru is here, alive, now. That’s enough.