Work Text:
Geordi’s visor gave him migraines, and for the most part, he was used to them. The burning, tight, grip on his temples and back of his neck was a constant reminder of how lucky he was to be able to see at all. On tough days, when the pain was too hard to bear, he would request a medical day and sit in the darkness of his quarters, visor untouched. It was standard practice to teach braille to blind kids, even though he had received his procedure at five. Because of this, he had a bookshelf of braille books to read on bad days when the pain was too much to bear.
About six months after he had started working with Data, he had one of those days. He replicated himself a turmeric tea for the inflamed nerves, something his mother had taught him back home, and moved to run his fingers over the book titles on his shelf. Smiling at the familiar feeling of his thick childhood comic book collection, Geordi took a handful of Daredevil copies and brought them to the sofa. Just as he was beginning to run his hands over the words, his door chime rang.
“Come,” he said before quickly asking to turn on the lights.
“There is no need to turn on the lights, Lieutenant. My eyes are capable of visual interpretation down to a 0.2% brightness. The stars through your window provide ample source.”
“You don’t have to call me, Lieutenant, Data. Geordi is fine,” he bit back the soft smile ebbing at his lips, “Is everything ok in engineering? Do they need me?” Geordi began to stand, but a wave of nausea passed over him and he was falling back onto the couch. Data was quick to ease his dissent, strong arms around his shoulder and waist.
“Uh, thanks.”
Data stood straight again, “It had come to my attention that you were ill. I have found that humans enjoy ‘checking up' on their friends when this happens. Therefore, I decided to come to your quarters to see if you were ‘ok’.”
Geordi wasn’t sure what to say. Data had called him a friend. He’d had a few friends before, sure, he wasn’t a total social outcast. With people, Geordi always felt like they were seeing past him and into the visor. Like no matter what he did, people would always be thinking in the back of their minds that he was different. Other.
“I’m fine, just a migraine,” he pointed to his head where the visor clipped into his temples.
“Dr. Crusher has informed me you have frequent headaches due to an overload of processing information from your visor.”
“Yeah, I’ve been dealing with it since I was a kid. They're usually not so bad, but-” he shrugged, “sometimes they’re worse.”
“I see.” Data stood stiffly in front of Geordi, and even though he couldn’t see, he could feel his presence.
“Would you like to take a seat?”
Without a word, Data sat down to his right, and the sofa sunk down from his weight.
“You are reading a book, but its format is unfamiliar to me.”
Geordi chuckled a little and closed the pages to show the cover, “It’s a comic book. I’ve loved them for a long time.”
Data paused as he searched through his information files, “a magazine that presents a serialized story in the form of a comic strip, typically featuring the adventures of a superhero.”
“That’s the gist of it.”
“Lieutenant- Geordi,” Data fumbled more gracefully than Geordi had ever heard anyone do, “Forgive me if I am being intrusive, but is the purpose of comic books not to follow the visuals of the story? It is curious that you would choose an image-based piece of media to consume when your visor is not in use.”
“The beauty of it is that I can’t see it.”
Data shifted beside him, “Clarify.”
“When I run my fingers over the words like this,” Geordi opened the page to where he was last and demonstrated, “my mind is blank. I can interpret the pages however I want them to be. I’m not constrained by what is given in color. The characters, the story, the adventure. It’s all mine. No one’s ever told me what is actually happening, and I don’t want to know. No matter how many times I read these, the story is always different.”
“Fascinating,” Data said, an unusual change in his tone, “who is ‘Daredevil’?”
A childhood memory passed through Geordi’s head of him dressed in a replicated costume pretending his visor was part of the mask, “he’s a blind lawyer turned superhero who has super senses because of his lack of sight. He takes down people that threaten innocent citizens, but he refuses to kill anyone.”
There was a pause of silence, “I would like to know more about this Daredevil.”
“The computer has a collection of all the comic books, you’re welcome to read some.”
“Thank you for the recommendation,” Data stood to leave, but Geordi tapped his hand. It was warm and smooth, so resemblant of human skin but also distant. He dragged his fingers down from Data’s hand to let go.
“Wait, Data,” he smiled once more, hoping that Data could really see it, “thank you for coming to see me. I appreciate it.”
“You are welcome.”
- - - - - - -o0o- - - - - - -
The next time Geordi had a bad day, he had already started his shift in engineering. The lights were too bright, and the machines were giving off too many waves. His forehead was pounding, beads of sweat pooling around the top of his visor. He glanced at the time-
1400 hours
He only needed to work another two until he could go back to his quarters and rest. Geordi had suffered through worse.
“Geordi,” Data said next to him, stopping his rant about the cooling pack maintenance they were pursuing, “are you alright?”
“Yeah, Data, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Your temperature has risen 1.2 degrees. You are ill.”
“No, please, just keep working. It's been worse.”
Data paused to consider, “you are having a migraine.”
“It’s mild.”
“You are… lying to me,” Data looked up and tilted his head. If Geordi didn’t know better, he would say Data looked betrayed.
“My shift ends soon, I’ll deal with it then.”
“I do not think that is wise, if the pressure gets too immense, your implants that connect your eyes to your visor could overload. This could mean permanent-”
“Data,” Geordi growled, sounding angrier than he was, “leave it alone. I understand the potential risks. I’m gonna be fine.”
He got through another hour before the pain was unbearable. Tripping over himself, he grabbed a hold of the railing at the warp core and disconnected his visor. The relief was immediate, but not enough to stop his slip to the floor.
“This is Commander Data to the transporter room, medical emergency in Engineering. Beam Lieutenant LeForge and I directly to sickbay.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Data I’m-” Geordi’s words were lost in the particle stream.
“What’s wrong with him,” Dr. Crusher asked, walking with Data who carried Geordi to a biobed.
“Nothing,” Geordi groaned, “It’s just a headache.”
“Your nerves are firing three times faster than they should be,” Crusher pushed a hypo into his neck, “this could have been dangerous.”
“I was just trying to finish my shift. Everything was fine.”
“Geordi, it is ok to require assistance for pain.”
“Data, I’d like you to take him under observation. I don’t want him in bright spaces for at least sixteen hours.”
“Understood, doctor.”
Geordi gave up fighting. They were beamed into Data’s quarters. The room was cool and calming on Geordi’s clammy skin. He was useless as Data arranged him on the couch and brought over a plush blanket.
“Would anything else make you more suitably comfortable?”
Geordi cleared his throat, “no Data, thank you. This is enough already.”
“I do not understand why you, and so many other members of the crew, dislike medical treatment. Would it not ease your pain and, therefore, make you more valuable to ship operations if you were in complete health?”
“I suppose it would. I guess it’s just,” Geordi sighed, “pride. Fear of being vulnerable.”
“Do you fear being vulnerable around me because I am an android, and significantly stronger than the average human?”
“No, Data,” Geordi reached into the darkness to try and reassure him, but nothing was there. A burst of embarrassment passed through his chest, why did he do that? “No, I don’t feel- unsafe around you. In fact, if I had to pick someone I feel the safest around, it would probably be you.”
“Thank you, Geordi,” Data responded, sounding a little surprised, “I… am not sure what my appropriate response should be. Though I cannot feel fear nor safety, I do… enjoy your presence.”
Geordi chuckled and suddenly something jumped on his lap, “what the hell?”
“Spot, my cat,” Data reached down to take Spot away from Geordi’s lap, “I apologize on his behalf. Spot does not usually like guests. It is odd that he has chosen to be your companion.”
“Odd, huh?”
“I have found that, when introduced to other humans, Spot becomes hostile. I hypothesize that this is the result of mistreatment on the abandoned cargo ship I rescued him from.”
Geordi ran his hand up and down the cat’s back, soft fur threading between his fingers, “well, he’s not so bad I suppose.”
Data sat down next to him, “He is a- ‘good boy’.”
A laugh tumbled from Geordi’s lips and warmth filled his chest. As minutes passed, he felt himself drifting into sleep. Spot was purring in his lap, and Data was sitting quietly next to him, side pressed up against Geordi’s. It was the calmest he had felt in years.
“Geordi,” Data attempted to whisper, “if you must rest, I highly suggest you do so. Doctor Crusher has confined you to sixteen hours under my care, and it has only been three hours, twenty-seven minutes, and twelve seconds.”
“Thank you, Data.”
“It is my… pleasure.”
When he woke up, the weight of Data was still next to him and Spot was asleep in his lap.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -o0o- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Years passed, and they only grew closer. Their relationship evolved and blossomed into best friends. They spent their leave together. When Geordi had bad days, he slept in Data’s quarters on the couch; lights off, Data by his side, Spot asleep in his lap. He loved the nights he spent there and how… comforted it made him feel.
“Geordi, I would like you to accompany me to the holodeck at 1900 hours.”
“Sure thing, Data. Should I bring anything?”
“No. Everything you will need shall be provided by the program.”
Geordi didn’t know what to expect. He showed up on time to find Data standing at the doors.
“What have you got in store for us, Data?”
“Computer, begin program Data D7A.”
Beginning program.
“I believe it would be customary for you to enter first.”
With a hesitancy in his step, the doors to the holodeck opened to a black street in an earth city.
“Data? What is this?”
“Will you put your trust in me?”
“Of course, but-”
“Remove your visor.”
Geordi wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly, “sorry?”
“Please remove your visor, it is necessary for the effectiveness of the program.”
With a click, Geordi removed the visor and handed it to Data.
“Computer, run simulation.”
All around him, the city began to bustle with foot movement. People were talking, scuffing their feet. What was that noise? Were those… cars?
“Data what is this?”
“I took your advice and consumed information from all five hundred and twelve Daredevil comic books to create a program best suited to the story in a way that would not reveal any crucial characteristics to you.”
Suddenly, particles surrounded Geordi and what he assumed was the Daredevil suit formed itself.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I suggest you say nothing. It will likely interfere with your ability to properly differentiate between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ sounds.”
“I haven't used my senses like this in years, Data. I’m not sure I can do it.”
“This is a low-risk environment. If you do not wish to continue, I can deactivate the program and we can continue on with a different arrangement.”
“No, no,” Geordi shook his head, “this is… no one has ever done anything like this for me.”
To his left, Geordi heard a high-pitched scream. He focused on the sound and tried to feel the air move around him. Taking a deep breath, he ran in the direction of the sound. A horn of some kind blared at him as he stepped off a curb he didn’t anticipate.
“Watch it!”
Geordi’s heart began to race, but he continued onward. The woman screamed again, and Geordi found himself being led to a slim alley as wide as his arm span.
“Mind your own business,” a grumbled, elderly voice echoed through the brick walls. Whatever Data had done to the program, it was easier for Geordi to locate where the sound had come from. He crouched low in a fighting position and prepared to fight.
“I ain’t gonna fight a cripple,” the man spat on the ground. Geordi ran ahead, striking up and hitting the man in the jaw. He was shocked that his fist had made contact with the flesh on his first attempt, what had Data done to this program?
“Shame,” he struck again, lower, and the man came toppling to the ground with a strike to the stomach, “I fought you.” Geordi turned his head in the general direction of the girl.
“Get out of here.” As her rapid footsteps echoed on the pavement, Geordi heard the holodeck program shut down. He was breathing heavy and smiling.
“Data, that was amazing. How did you alter the program to make it easier for me to hear noises?”
“I did not change the program to do such a thing.”
Geordi laughed, and Data handed him back the visor. He clicked it back into place and finally looked at Data and his faint, warm, glow. He looked almost proud of himself, standing tall with his hands behind his back.
“I have prepared you a meal in my quarters as well, if you would like to participate.”
“That sounds great.”
They chatted as they walked back to Data’s quarters about the significance of superheroes on twentieth-century media.
“Did you enjoy reading my old comic books?” Geordi asked when the doors opened.
“I found them informative about the human condition, and what has motivated humanity to do good things. Influences of good deeds from powerful figures seemed to have had a net positive effect on youth.”
“I suppose they did. For me, at least, reading about a blind superhero made me feel less alone.”
Data stopped walking, “Less… alone?”
“It’s kind of isolating to grow up as a black, blind kid with a new piece of metal technology drilled into his head,” he laughed and bent down to pick up Spot, who began to happily bump his head into Geordi’s chest.
“I fail to understand how a fictional character, that is not really beside you or aware of you, can make you feel less alone.”
“It wasn’t just his existence that made me feel less alone. It was the fact that he had faced the same struggles, the same social ostracization, as I had. Not only was it ok that he was blind, but it was also his superpower . It made me think that I could also have a superpower.”
“I find myself wondering if there is an android superhero,” Data looked at the ground in confusion, “perhaps if I could read about an android that also ‘succeeds’ in his existence, I could draw a reference on how humans expect me to act.”
Geordi laughed awkwardly and rubbed a hand along his neck.
“Has something I said been amusing?”
“No, Data… It’s just that-'' he sighed and sat on the couch. Spot squirmed in his grip and lept down, “most of the time, in comics. Robots, androids. They’re the villains.”
“I see.” Data’s eyebrows fell, “Is that why so many humans fear me? Cultural lore has convinced them that I am one of ‘the bad guys’.”
Geordi didn’t know what to say. Data wasn’t wrong, a lot of people did get their ideas about androids from old entertainment, “maybe,” he paused to give Data a warm smile, “someday, you could be the android superhero.”
“I find that possibility to be slim, but- there is some appeal to the idea,” he squinted his eyes as if he were confused.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -o0o- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Time slipped by like the flow of the warp core. They lost people, they gained people, but through it all, Geordi still had Data. Geordi never considered it intentional, but it seemed fitting to him in hindsight that he had chosen a best friend nearly incapable of dying before him. Data was an anomaly to human existence. Time would have no wear on his circuits. Disease and injury could not plague his limbs. Sure, he could get hurt, but the odds that Data would die before him were slim to none. It was comforting to feel himself age slightly but watch Data remain the same. Stability. Security.
Like a cold wind on an early fall day, Geordi’s affection crept up on him. With every comment, poor joke, and bump of the arm, he slipped deeper and deeper into the hole he was digging himself into. Geordi didn’t even know how Data would respond to such a revelation, but he didn’t see any need to follow through. After all, Data was bound to outlive him.
“Geordi,” Data said, sitting next to him in the dim light of the stars the day before his cybernetic eye procedure. The Enterprise was docked at Starbase 34 where Dr. Crusher and a team of cybernetic experts had developed a new potential treatment plan. He had been instructed to avoid his visor as much as possible the week leading up to the procedure, so he spent a lot of time in Data’s quarters, an aging Spot curled in his lap.
“Yeah, Data.”
“Is it correct to presume that, after your procedure, you will no longer need to spend nights in my quarters?”
“My migraines should go away,” Geordi swallowed, a lump forming in his throat, “but if it’s alright with you, I’d still like to come by sometimes.”
“That would be acceptable.”
Geordi reached over to Data’s coffee table and picked up his visor, ran his fingers over the worn metal. His new eyes would not be as powerful compared to his visor. The glows of radiation and bursts of wave color would be invisible to him. Geordi brought the visor up to his face, but Data put his hand on his wrist.
“Your doctors have recommended that you do not wear your visor prior to the procedure.”
“I know, Data,” he used his other hand to gently push Data’s away. With one final click, the colors around him faded in. As it always did, the glow surrounding Data ebbed like embers of a fire next to him.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” Geordi said with a shallow sigh.
“You seem distressed,” Data leaned in closer, “there are tears falling from your tear ducts. Are you in pain?”
Geordi reached out his hand and placed it carefully on Data’s cheek, watching his skin become enveloped by the warm light. “I’m going to miss your glow.”
Data looked down at his hand, but did not remove it, “you are able to see the radiation emitted from my processing systems.”
“Yeah.”
“You never mentioned it before,” Data frowned.
“I thought I would always be able to see it before.”
“Does it provide you,” he looked down then up again, “comfort?”
“I’ve always been able to spot you from across the room. Down the hallway. Hell, sometimes in another part of the ship.”
“Clarify.”
Geordi’s fingers moved to skim the edge of Data’s jaw, “You’re my anchor, Data.”
“Out of the numerous officers I have also served with, your companionship is the most notable,” Data responded, turning slightly into Gerodi’s touch.
A chuckle tumbled from Geordi’s lips as his hand fell from its place on his jaw. In return, Data reached forward to remove his visor once more. Geordi focused once more on his brightness and let his eyes slip shut to preserve the memory. When he opened them again, there was only the void.
“Just because you cannot see my radiation emission, does not mean it is not present.”
“Right, as usual, commander.”
Data walked him, arm in arm, to the medical bay on the starbase in the morning at 0600.
“I will…” Data seemed to soften, “be here when you emerge from sedation.”
Geordi looked forward to seeing him with his own eyes for the first time.
- - - - - - -o0o- - - - - - -
They were on shore leave for Ryker and Troi’s wedding, and Data was tasked with a song.
“I am not sure if what I have prepared is adequate for the occasion.”
“Data,” Geordi leaned forward to adjust Data’s formal uniform, “it’s perfect.”
It was perfect. Geordi knew it would be. He sat next to Data in pleasant silence, watching with a gleam in his eye as he stole the show with his song. Around him sat his best friends and fellow officers, all paired off into a mish-mash of couples. Historically, Geordi had always been the man with an empty chair beside him, but today was different. Data was his best friend, and his voice boomed through the room.
The night dwindled on, and the slow music began to play. Geordi was seated alone at a table with Guinan, watching the married couple jostle rhythmically around the dance floor.
“You can ask him to dance, you know.”
“Excuse me?” Geordi looked at Guinan, who had been relatively quiet up until that point, and raised an eyebrow.
“If you want to dance with him, you should ask.”
“Guinan, I-”
“I am not presuming anything of you, Mr. LeForge. I am merely suggesting that, if you would like to dance with Data, you should probably ask him.”
He was across the room, talking lightly in a ring of people Geordi recognized from one of Ryker’s old ship crews. With one final nod from Guinan, Geordi walked over to them, pushing his hand on the fabric of his outer thigh to smooth out the wrinkles.
“Geordi,” Data said, abruptly ending the conversation with his startled groupmates.
“Hey,” Geordi waved to them awkwardly, “uh, Data. I was wondering if you would like to dance.”
Data stared at him blankly, “to… dance?”
“Yeah,” he nodded his head sharply, “with me.”
“That sounds acceptable.”
Geordi bit his lip and followed Data into the crowd. He was getting too old to be nervous about dancing with his best friend.
“Are you aware of the three different waltzes?”
“No.”
“Here, let me demonstrate,” Data placed one hand gently on Geordi’s waist and grabbed his hand with the other. He bounced up and down a bit in his movements.
“Data, Data,” Geordi laughed, “not so exact.”
“Is the purpose of dancing not to be in time with the music?”
“Sometimes it is, but other times,” he pulled Data closer to his chest and began to rock, “dancing is a sloppy practice for people just to be close to one another.”
Data slowed down to meet his pace and they moved clumsily across the ground. Breathing in deep, Geordi sighed and leaned into Data’s shoulder. It was safe there, warm and solid. If he focused hard enough, Geordi could almost feel the glow that he missed so much.
When the wedding was over and the crew was slowly migrating back onto the ship, they parted ways.
“I will see you tomorrow, Geordi,” Data said.
“ 0800 hours?”
“ 0800 hours,” Data echoed as he dissolved into the transporter beam.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -o0o- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The captain was gone, and Geordi knew that look in Data’s eye. Something heavy and twisted settled in his stomach. He wanted to get on his knees and beg Data to stay. A selfish, awful, piece of him would rather lose the captain.
Data is an android, he reassured himself. He cannot be affected by the biological weapon. He will be ok. When this is over, he will come back to the ship like he always does. I’ll meet him in his quarters, and sip turmeric tea while he reads me comic books, our legs pressed together on the couch.
They made their way to the forcefield in half speed. Data could not be convinced to stay. If he stayed and the captain died, he would never be able to go on. But if Data died… it was a no-win scenario.
“Data,” he grabbed his arm in the hallway in a frantic haze, heart beating sporadically in his chest.
“Geordi, do not try to convince me to remain on board the Enterprise, it will not be sufficient.”
Something about the way he said it- not sufficient - meant Geordi wasn’t a good enough reason to stay behind. But then again, if their situations were reversed, would he not do that same?
“I’m not asking you to stay! Data, I-”
“We are running out of time, Geordi.”
He wanted to say so many things. I need you, you can’t leave me, I was supposed to die first… I love you . “I’ll cover you.”
Data nodded, and they resumed their run to the exit. Geordi opened the first one and as it sealed, he let his eyes unfocus. There, in the dim glow of the forcefield, the faint outline of warm glow shone. He swallowed back his tears and memorized the lines in his unchanged face. Data looked right back. Geordi knew what he was trying to say.
He pressed the button, and the forcefield opened. In a bit of a haze, he stumbled back to the bridge. There was no way of knowing Data would even succeed, and he wanted to be at his post if the inevitable came to pass.
Four excruciating minutes later, the ship exploded, and it was the captain attached to the personal transporter. He couldn’t bring himself to move as he watched Ryker and Troi embrace. Reunion. Relief. The captain looked more broken than Geordi had ever seen him in fifteen years under his command. And so he knew;
Data was dead, and Geordi was a disciplined officer. He was ordered to assist the Romulans, so that is what he did. He spoke few words, and the handful he did were short and concise. Geordi worked himself to the bone.
After endless hours of repairs, he found himself wandering towards private quarters. Through the dust and rubble, it was unlikely many belongings remained intact. Geordi didn’t bother to move any debris as he made his solemn march to Data’s quarters.
The door was blocked by a metal beam, and he managed to move it after a few minutes of tugging. Everything was shattered. His bed frame had caved in on itself from a fallen light fixture. Glass littered the floor. Data’s paintings on his walls were ripped and stained. In the middle of the room sat a torn and grime-covered couch, but Geordi couldn’t stop himself from sitting on it. If he focused, he could still see the dip in the cushions where Data used to sit.
Tears slipped from his eyes, water bubbles tinted with floating grey dust dripping onto what was left of the glass table. Geordi wrapped his arms around himself and began to rock, picturing the wedding reception and the slow music as he had rested his head on Data’s shoulder. He wasn’t supposed to have died first.
Legs shaking, he stood abruptly and reached for a glass shard to throw at the wall. He screamed as it left his hand, a gargled mess of anger and longing. When the fragments shattered onto the floor, he heard a sound from the broken bed.
“Hello,” Geordi called, pulling himself together and moving over to investigate.
Moww
“Spot?”
Meeeoooow
“Jesus Christ, how did you even- Spot!” He frantically pulled pieces of wreckage from the bed and there, folded safely in the pillows was a dust-covered and terrified Spot. Geordi pulled him up slowly, shushing his whines as he brought Data’s cat close to his chest.
Spot immediately buried his head into Geordi’s neck, and he couldn’t help but laugh. It slipped out with a smile and more followed, “Old cat, survived through something as insane as this.”
It was then he noticed something metal poking out from under the bed. Upon further inspection, it was a large tin box. With Spot under one arm, Geordi slid the top off the box and gaped. Inside were copies upon copies of Daredevil comic books. The pages were void of color and images, just like his own. The realization hit him like a slap in the face.
Data had replicated braille copies of the comic books because Geordi didn’t want to know the true story. He configured the holodeck program and consumed all the pages in the same method. A voice in the back of Geordi’s head that sounded suspiciously like Data said,
You requested that you did not want to know the exact interpretation of the story. It was only logical that I prevent myself from inadvertently being influenced by art, so I followed your suggestion and read them how you did.
Among his pile of comic books, running his fingers along the familiar bumps, and Spot nestled safely under his arm, Geordi let himself cry for the android that had rightfully earned the superhero title he had always wanted.