Work Text:
Lieutenant Prieto has been quiet for a long time now, but he's alive. Sometimes, Deanna reaches out to feel his quiet mind, just to reassure herself. That he is alive and that she is alive. That the universe has not gone silent.
It's not the universe that's gone silent, just the part of it where Tasha had been.
It had only been a few months ago, but now it was more like a lifetime.
Tasha was over her, grinning, pinning her down on the judo mat. Deanna sighed. "This may be a pointless exercise."
"Not pointless." Tasha bounced up on her feet and offered a hand to her. "I've been doing this a long time."
Deanna took her hand and let Tasha help her up to her feet. She smoothed her crumpled robe. "I have never been skilled at any sort of combat. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Something must've inspired you to ask me to train you."
Deanna pressed her lips together. "There are so many risks of being on a starship. I feel as if I'm the only person on the bridge who... quite honestly wouldn't know what to do with herself in a fight."
"Not everyone has to be a fighter. Think of this as... as fun. And if it helps you defend yourself someday, that's an added bonus."
"Our ideas of fun are very different," Deanna said. "Beside, if my performance today is any indication, I don't think I'd be able to do much in the way of self-defense."
Tasha frowned slightly. "You know, Deanna, I'm on the bridge too. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you." Her eyes were intense. "Not ever."
A wave of emotion came from Tasha as they looked at each other. Deanna had felt it before from her, but... they usually weren't alone. She could tell her that it was coming from somewhere else.
Deanna felt her face get hot and she glanced down. "Maybe we should just get some lunch instead."
The emotion faded into disappointment, and the moment was over.
It plays through her mind over and over again. She feels the away team nearby, a mixture of determination and concern building into anger and fear. She wants to scream out to them that they're in danger, but she can't. They wouldn't hear her through the walls of the shuttlecraft.
She can sense Tasha. Tasha, who is a fighter. Tasha, who is a survivor. Tasha, who does not back down.
I wouldn't let anyone hurt you.
And then, Deanna senses a sudden shock, the frantic thoughts of the others, and finally, silence.
The creature outside laughs, and the events play through her mind again, as if it's the first time. As if, this time, maybe it will end differently.
"You've been avoiding me."
Tasha blinked at Deanna, her eyes bright. "Avoiding you? No... Things have just been busy."
They were walking down the corridor toward the turbolift to the bridge. It was something Deanna had adjusted to, working with Humans; being lied to without malice.
"Since the judo lesson," Deanna said, keeping her tone light. "Yes, you have."
"It's nothing personal," Tasha said.
They got into the turbolift, just the two of them.
Deanna kept her eyes forward. "I'm... concerned that you may feel you betrayed... some deeper emotion during that--"
"Do we have to talk about this?"
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," Deanna said.
Tasha scoffed. "You say it so clinically. Like I'm a patient."
"I don't mean to. I..." Deanna swallowed. Some of what she was feeling did not belong to Tasha. Some of it was from within. "Perhaps we could meet in my quarters after our shift. It's better to talk about these things."
"That's your opinion, Counselor. Not mine," Tasha said.
The turbolift doors slid open, and Tasha bolted out toward her station.
Deanna's consciousness fades in and out. Her body hurts, but her mind feels as though it's full of broken glass. Every thought is another sharp edge, cutting into her.
She reaches out, searching for a mind nearby, something she can hold onto. But only the creature is there. The thing that killed Tasha. Its emotions make her feel ill, but she lets herself feel them.
Professionally, she knows it is a Betazoid form of self harm, to seek out negative emotions and dwell on them, but she can't escape the feeling that she deserves this.
Deanna hadn't expected Tasha to come to her quarters as she'd suggested, but about an hour after Deanna had returned from her shift, the door chimed and there she was. Hands clasped behind her back, brow furrowed slightly.
The first thing she said was, "I'm sorry, Deanna."
"Come in," Deanna said gently.
Tasha did, the tension in her body clear from her stiff movements. She was afraid and confused and angry with herself. There was more, always, beneath those surface emotions. There was a trauma there that Deanna didn't allow herself to search into. It was too private and too painful.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," Tasha started. She was pacing, and Deanna watched her, staying still and calm. "I'm not like this. I tell people if I... I just say it, even if I know it won't go anywhere. But with you, the words won't come out. Which is ridiculous! I know you sense it, but I still embarrass myself as if you can't... as if you don't... As if you don't know."
"Tasha..."
"No. Not yet. Don't say anything, okay?" She finally stopped pacing and turned to look at Deanna. Even if Deanna couldn't sense the emotion, she would've been able to see it on her face. "I know you're already in love with someone else. I wouldn't even want to get in the way of that. I just can't help it. You've shifted something in me. You have to understand... Where I'm from, someone like you wouldn't have survived. Not like you are. You would've had to change. And I've seen women like you change or... or not change and... I've seen them broken down, hurt, killed."
There were tears sparkling in Tasha's eyes, but her expression suddenly went blank and she took a deep breath. The tears didn't fall.
Carefully, Deanna moved closer to her and put her hand on her arm. "Can I say something yet?"
Tasha nodded tersely.
"The place you are from is behind you. It does not define you, and it does not define your relationships with others."
"That doesn't mean it ever goes away," Tasha said.
"You can't change the past, that is true."
"Deanna." Tasha looked at her with what others might think was fearlessness. "I think I'm falling in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it."
"There's nothing wrong with that," Deanna said.
"There is. I might not be able to sense your emotions, but you and Commander Riker sit in front of me everyday on the bridge. I know you're not over him."
"Perhaps not..." Deanna hesitated. She did not want to think about her feelings toward Will in a moment like this. "But someone can care for more than one person."
Tasha searched her eyes for a long moment, the way Humans did as if they too could read thoughts. Then, she slowly lifted her hand and touched Deanna's cheek. "Deanna..." Tasha began, but she didn't finish. She leaned in and pressed her lips softly against Deanna's. It was barely a kiss. It was more of an allusion to a kiss and to all the things that could come after that kiss.
But nothing more came. Tasha drew back and bowed her head. Deanna could feel her turmoil, and it made her own heart ache.
"I know myself," Tasha whispered. "I would want you to only care for me."
It's Picard who tells her that Tasha is truly gone. She was holding onto the possibility that Dr. Crusher could have saved her, even as she knew how unlikely it was, but now that is gone.
She is exhausted from grief and from the torment she could feel Will going through and those brief moments she's able to touch the minds of the others and feel their exhaustion and the overwhelming hatred of the creature. Both its hatred, and her hatred for it.
She doesn't want to grieve or hate. She wants to go back in time. Even if she could never change the outcome for Tasha, she could change how they left things.
This time, she could be honest.
She grasped Tasha's hand, her lips still warm from the almost-kiss they shared.
Part of her wanted to try. To listen to her own advice and put the past where it belonged and try to begin a new love.
Maybe she could love Tasha, if she let herself open up again and gave her heart another chance to be broken. She even wanted to try it, but it was a risk. Perhaps she could stand to be hurt again, but she wasn't sure she could stand it if she hurt Tasha.
"I can't make promises," Deanna said.
Tasha swallowed thickly, then nodded. "I know. I understand. And I treasure our friendship too much. I don't think you can know how much, Deanna. Even if you know everything about how I'm feeling, I don't think you can know that."
She squeezed Tasha's hand. For a fleeting moment, she thought of pulling Tasha close, telling her that no matter what, their friendship would survive. Telling her that they owed it to each other to try.
Instead, she let Tasha's hand go.
In the end, Deanna is saved from that shuttlecraft, and the rage of the creature that killed Tasha.
She stands on the holodeck, grasping Will's arm just to keep herself upright. Her legs feel weak and she can't stop herself from crying, but she's still the ship's counselor. She can't break down in front of her crew.
She forces herself to look at the holographic projection of Tasha. She's seen these so many times, and usually she can't shake the feeling that the person who recorded the message never truly believed they would die young.
Not Tasha. Deanna can hear it in her voice. Tasha knew.
"Deanna," the projection says. Deanna's skin goes cold, her heart pounds in her chest. "You are capable of so much love. You taught me without ever having to say a word."
Deanna leans into Will, and he holds her.
The last time she saw Tasha was just before Deanna left for the conference. She was walking toward the shuttlebay when Tasha caught up with her in the corridor.
"Deanna... Do you think you'll be back in time for the martial arts competition?"
Deanna glanced at her, then away. She felt a slight flush whenever she spoke to Tasha now. It was something she'd need to address sometime. Her father would've called the feeling "butterflies."
"I believe so."
"Are you going to watch?"
Deanna smiled. They'd reached her destination, so she turned to face her outside of the doors. "Of course I will, Tasha. Although I can't promise that I'll know exactly what's going on."
"Don't worry. When they give me the medal, that means I won. That's all you need to know."
"I look forward to it, then."
They watched each other for a long moment. Deanna opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted.
"Excuse me," Lieutenant Ben Prieto stopped near them. "I'm going to be flying you out to that conference, Counselor. Are you ready?"
"Ah, yes... Yes, I'm ready," Deanna said. She looked at Tasha again, but the moment had passed. "I'll see you soon.'
"I'll be waiting," Tasha said. Deanna could feel the meaning of it.
She thought about that feeling through the entire conference. She thought about what she would say the next time she saw Tasha.
"Are you sure?" Will asks.
Deanna nods. "I'm fine. I just need some sleep."
"If you want to talk sometime..." he says.
She just nods again and waits for him to leave her quarters.
He knows her too well. He knows she's not fine after the funeral, but he also knows that he won't convince her to accept his help right now. Maybe someday, but not now.
Her mind is numb and empty as she goes through the motions of preparing for bed. She washes her face, brushes her hair, changes her clothes. Then, she sits on the bed. She draws her knees up and hugs them to her chest.
An impossible future plays out in her head. She returns from the conference. Tasha greets her near the shuttlebay. They have lunch together. Deanna tells her all the things she'd thought about saying, but never did. They hold hands on the table. Then, Tasha...
But she doesn't know what Tasha would do next.
"I would have told you that I was afraid, Tasha," she said into the empty room. "I would have told you that I was afraid, but that I wanted to try if you wanted to try, too. I would have told you that I know you wouldn't hurt me. I know you'd keep me safe."
She buries her face against her knees and finally lets herself truly cry, the way she couldn't cry in front of the others. She cries until she's too exhausted to sit anymore, and she sinks down against her mattress. She cries until she can't stay awake anymore.
"I'm sorry I didn't say it," she murmurs.
In those last moments before she falls asleep, she can swear there's a warmth around her that feels like Tasha. It feels like that sense of her that Deanna thought disappeared in that moment her life was taken away. It's a feeling Deanna isn't sure she could ever feel for herself.
It feels like forgiveness.