Work Text:
Doors.
They were the answer.
Doors could be closed. Doors could be locked. Doors could keep everyone safe.
A closed door kept the horror away.
Why could she not see that?
How could she not just understand?
Why did she have to take so much after…
…after her mother.
Everything had been fine, perfectly fine. The colony was secure. The drones happy. The flying murder machines could not get to them. She should have accepted that.
Then she went and proved how much of a disappointment she was and opened. THE. DOOR!
The horrors came swarming in like she had practically invited them.
A cruel nightmare played before his optics, taunting his past.
The makeshift railgun. A wrench.
His daughter’s pleading. His wife’s begging.
The disassembly drone. The techno-organic, beating heart THING!
It wasn’t his fault.
It wasn’t his fault.
IT WASN’T HIS FAULT!
Doors had, and would always be, the answer!
…
At least that was what he’d thought.
Then he found her in the abandoned cryostasis wing. Standing there amongst the wreckage and flames. Once more she surprised him.
She did something she hadn’t done in years. She embraced him. No arguing. No sarcastic remarks. No… no anything.
Whatever tirade he had died on Khan’s tongue. His daughter was just so… lost. Confused.
Scared.
Slowly, as the shock faded, he held her back.
He did not know what to believe anymore.
A closed door meant you did not have to face the past. The horror. Now? Now he does not have that luxury.