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After two hours of staring at his bedroom wall, Avon snarled and faced both his door and his demons. Ten reluctant and furious minutes later, he was in the corridor, staring towards Blake’s cabin. Jenna would be in there, he told himself, he need do nothing – in fact any action would certainly lead to well-deserved embarrassment. He had seen her worried looks at Blake, her half instinctive movement after him as he left the flight deck. There was no reasonable possibility that Blake was actually alone at all. No need for concern.
Except anyone who believed Blake was a reasonable being, was self-delusional. Depressive, martyred, ridden with doubt, yes. Able and willing to take the eagerly offered comfort Jenna was no doubt peddling, not so much, no. Blake was no fool, though wholly a fool, he would know full well that Jenna’s version of comfort was not freely offered, that the price was one she would deny indignantly and both Avon and Blake could see clearly. To do him justice, Blake would not play where he could not pay. Avon had his own reasons for suspecting Blake couldn’t pay. Possibly for the simple after effects of Federation mind control/wipe. Possibly not.
Despising dithering, Avon walked firmly down the corridor, en-route for a hot drink. Past Blake’s door. Then, as Blake’s voice choked out a low cry of horror, he whirled back as fast as he could and entered the cabin, and Avon knew he was right, that Blake should not be alone now because he was reliving the terrible events earlier. And no one should have to go through that.
“Blake”. Avon’s voice was quiet and right in his ear. Blake opened his eyes and scrunched them shut again, unwilling to face the man. He wished the floor would swallow him up, why did he react like this every time children were involved? They were safe, now anyway. He became aware that he was seated in his bed, Avon’s arms close around him, hands gripping his shoulders, an impassive look on his face that did not stop Blake seeing the hidden concern in his eyes. His hands were strong enough to keep Blake from thrashing about more but the gentleness of his fingers curving around Blake would be a revelation to those who believed Avon heartless. Blake released the clutching hold he had around Avon’s neck and then changed his mind and grabbed him again. He would understand. He always did. Sure enough, Avon made no comment, simply slid sideways so Blake could put his face into Avon’s neck, breathe him in as the tremors died away.
“Sorry”.
“No matter. Rest.” Avon made no demands and never alluded to Blake’s weaknesses in coping with the stresses of such missions.
“Will you stay?”
“I’m here, Blake.”
Such a matter of fact tone. Like stating an immutable law. When Blake needed Avon, he would be there.
“Why do you bother?”
“Ah, Blake, why do you not know?” Avon sighed and resisted the urge to kiss Blake’s curls, tucked under his chin. They rested like that for a long time, arms close around each other. When Blake woke again he was alone, but with the sense memory of a light kiss on his brow.