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Onboard Moya...still somewhere
The next morning (or what passed for morning on a Leviathan) found Stark still in Chiana’s quarters. They had continued drinking, and talking, for most of the night until exhaustion and inebriation got the best of both of them.
They had talked about Rygel and how surprised they were when he had agreed, after encouragement, to Stark’s demand that he formally ensure the freedom of everyone living within his empire. They had talked about who that red-eyed man could have been. They had talked about Jothee. And eventually they circled back around and they had talked more about D’Argo and Zhaan and Faye. Some of the talk was quiet, some was more like yelling, and some veered dangerously close to crying.
Chiana drifted off to sleep first. Stark had continued talking, at first because he hadn’t noticed and then because he just felt like he needed to keep getting words out even if there was nobody around to hear them. He talked to himself often enough and this was essentially the same thing. Then he’d stood up, too fast, sat back down immediately, and decided he’d slept worse places than this floor and just laid down right there. He slept better that night than he had in a long time in spite of his position. Maybe it was the raslak. Maybe it was feeling like he’d unburdened himself just a little. Maybe it was feeling like listening to Chiana might have helped her a little. Or maybe it was just knowing someone else was there.
“You’re on my floor,” Chiana said, peering blearily down at him from the edge of the bed. “Stark. Why are you on my floor?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Stark said, scrambling to his feet and stumbling a little as he did so. “I didn’t mean to. Well. I did. But I…it was hard to walk.”
“It’s a big bed, you idiot, you didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
Stark just stared back at her.
“What?” she asked, flopping back down against the pillows.
“I’ll go,” he said quickly. “Sorry.”
“Bring me water when you come back,” Chiana said plaintively.
“I wasn’t…I can do that,” he said. He kicked an empty bottle as he turned, sending it spinning across the floor. “Sorry.”
Chiana was sitting cross-legged on the bed when he came back with water. “C’mere, you don’t have sit on the floor,” she said, patting the blanket to her right. She held out her hand for the water and drained half of the cup before saying any more. “Sit down."
Stark, not sure what else to do, sat as directed. “Does your head hurt?” His didn’t, at least not much yet, but he wasn’t sure how much of the raslak Chiana had actually consumed.
“Little bit. I’ve had worse,” Chiana said. “You really slept there all night?”
“I was tired,” Stark said with a small shrug. “And drunk. But…I slept better than I have. In a long time.”
“Good. You needed it. But I’m not buying you that many drinks every night,” Chiana warned.
“I’ll buy you some next time.” Stark offered hesitantly. “Unless the water counts?”
“Good try,” Chiana said before finishing her glass. “No.”
They sat there quietly for a few moments before Stark opened his mouth again. “You didn’t tell me your idea. Last night. You had an idea. You said. But you didn’t say what.”
“Huh. Thought maybe you forgot. You really wanna know?” Chiana asked.
“I asked.”
“Yeah, you did. You smiled last night. The first time I’ve seen you smile since you got here and I know you weren’t smiling back on your island either. You relaxed, for a microt. And I thought…maybe that’s what you need.”
“I think I was supposed to relax at the spa,” Stark said, looking down. “I didn’t.”
“I wish I’d seen that,” Chiana told him, smirking. “But you relaxed here. Finally. And you slept.”
“I did.” Stark nodded. “More than I have been. Better than I have been. I feel…I feel a little lighter today.”
“I didn’t sleep well, after D’Argo,” Chiana offered.
“I always slept better when she was there,” Stark said quietly. “I never told Faye that. I should have. I should have told her a lot of things, I should have done so many things but I always thought there would be more time. Should have known better. There’s never enough time. Doesn’t matter now. She’s gone and there’s just me and I have to get used to that again. Get used to being alone. Being lonely.”
“You don’t have to.”
“She’s gone,” Stark said again. “I do have to. She made it very clear I wasn’t enough to stay for and I wasn’t enough to come back for and I wasn’t wanted where she was going and I should have known better than to ever think otherwise!”
“Maybe she’s an idiot, Stark!” Chiana snapped. “Maybe she’ll figure that out someday but you can’t sit here thinking you’re worthless just because some tralk ran out on you.”
“She’s not a tralk,” Stark said, gritting his teeth. “She was…the best thing that happened to me in years. Cycles. And I wouldn’t change any of it except the end but the end is all that matters now, isn’t it? The end is the only thing that lasts and the end is why I’m here and why I can’t sleep and why everything hurts and why I’m alone. Again.” He stood as he was talking, turning away from Chiana.
“Stark.” When he didn’t turn back Chiana reached out and grabbed his arm. “Stark. I’m right here. You’re not alone. That…that was the idea.”
He did turn then, giving first her hand on his arm and then her face a very confused look. “What was the idea?”
“Maybe…maybe we can be lonely together for a little while?”
“We…isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“Stark, you’re not this dense. Are you? You’re lonely. I’m lonely. We’re both here.” She tugged him a little closer, grinning. “Might as well, right?”
He took a step back, shaking her hand loose from his arm. “I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not pity!”
“Then why?”
“I already said! It’s just…we’re both lonely. Both hurting. And I know you wouldn’t ever dream of trying anything on your own. Frell, Stark, we got completely drunk last night and you slept on the floor and almost ran away this morning when I said there was room in the bed. Maybe I just want to. Maybe I want to know what these other beautiful women have been getting that I’ve been missing out on. Maybe we could give each other a little comfort.”
“I…I don’t…I…I should go,” Stark stammered, then fled the room.
He avoided her the rest of the day. He avoided everyone for the rest of the day. Moya was a large ship so that wasn’t difficult. But that night Chiana, two more bottles of raslak in hand, was standing outside his quarters.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Peace offering?”
“No, you…you shouldn’t apologize. I…you startled me. Surprised me. And I…I didn’t know what to do. You…you can come in. If you like.”
“You sure? I can leave the bottle. Or both bottles.”
“I…Yes. I’m sure. Come in.” He stepped back from the door, leaving room for her to pass. “Please?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Chiana told him, walking in and sitting down on his bed. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, accepting the bottle she held out. He opened it, took a very long drink, then looked back at her. “I’m sorry. About before.”
“Don’t be. Offer’s still open,” she said in just as gentle a tone.
“I…I don’t…I think…”
“You think too much.” She patted the bed beside her and waited. He looked back at her, took another drink, then took a step toward the door. “You’re leaving?”
“No.” He shook his head slightly. “No. I…I wanted to be sure it was locked.” This might be a terrible idea. He might regret it. More likely, he thought, she would. But regrets could come later. For now, he was heading back towards the bed.
[NFB for distance. Could be open for contact after. Saddest alien might even be in a somewhat better mood.]
They had talked about Rygel and how surprised they were when he had agreed, after encouragement, to Stark’s demand that he formally ensure the freedom of everyone living within his empire. They had talked about who that red-eyed man could have been. They had talked about Jothee. And eventually they circled back around and they had talked more about D’Argo and Zhaan and Faye. Some of the talk was quiet, some was more like yelling, and some veered dangerously close to crying.
Chiana drifted off to sleep first. Stark had continued talking, at first because he hadn’t noticed and then because he just felt like he needed to keep getting words out even if there was nobody around to hear them. He talked to himself often enough and this was essentially the same thing. Then he’d stood up, too fast, sat back down immediately, and decided he’d slept worse places than this floor and just laid down right there. He slept better that night than he had in a long time in spite of his position. Maybe it was the raslak. Maybe it was feeling like he’d unburdened himself just a little. Maybe it was feeling like listening to Chiana might have helped her a little. Or maybe it was just knowing someone else was there.
“You’re on my floor,” Chiana said, peering blearily down at him from the edge of the bed. “Stark. Why are you on my floor?”
“Sorry, sorry,” Stark said, scrambling to his feet and stumbling a little as he did so. “I didn’t mean to. Well. I did. But I…it was hard to walk.”
“It’s a big bed, you idiot, you didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”
Stark just stared back at her.
“What?” she asked, flopping back down against the pillows.
“I’ll go,” he said quickly. “Sorry.”
“Bring me water when you come back,” Chiana said plaintively.
“I wasn’t…I can do that,” he said. He kicked an empty bottle as he turned, sending it spinning across the floor. “Sorry.”
Chiana was sitting cross-legged on the bed when he came back with water. “C’mere, you don’t have sit on the floor,” she said, patting the blanket to her right. She held out her hand for the water and drained half of the cup before saying any more. “Sit down."
Stark, not sure what else to do, sat as directed. “Does your head hurt?” His didn’t, at least not much yet, but he wasn’t sure how much of the raslak Chiana had actually consumed.
“Little bit. I’ve had worse,” Chiana said. “You really slept there all night?”
“I was tired,” Stark said with a small shrug. “And drunk. But…I slept better than I have. In a long time.”
“Good. You needed it. But I’m not buying you that many drinks every night,” Chiana warned.
“I’ll buy you some next time.” Stark offered hesitantly. “Unless the water counts?”
“Good try,” Chiana said before finishing her glass. “No.”
They sat there quietly for a few moments before Stark opened his mouth again. “You didn’t tell me your idea. Last night. You had an idea. You said. But you didn’t say what.”
“Huh. Thought maybe you forgot. You really wanna know?” Chiana asked.
“I asked.”
“Yeah, you did. You smiled last night. The first time I’ve seen you smile since you got here and I know you weren’t smiling back on your island either. You relaxed, for a microt. And I thought…maybe that’s what you need.”
“I think I was supposed to relax at the spa,” Stark said, looking down. “I didn’t.”
“I wish I’d seen that,” Chiana told him, smirking. “But you relaxed here. Finally. And you slept.”
“I did.” Stark nodded. “More than I have been. Better than I have been. I feel…I feel a little lighter today.”
“I didn’t sleep well, after D’Argo,” Chiana offered.
“I always slept better when she was there,” Stark said quietly. “I never told Faye that. I should have. I should have told her a lot of things, I should have done so many things but I always thought there would be more time. Should have known better. There’s never enough time. Doesn’t matter now. She’s gone and there’s just me and I have to get used to that again. Get used to being alone. Being lonely.”
“You don’t have to.”
“She’s gone,” Stark said again. “I do have to. She made it very clear I wasn’t enough to stay for and I wasn’t enough to come back for and I wasn’t wanted where she was going and I should have known better than to ever think otherwise!”
“Maybe she’s an idiot, Stark!” Chiana snapped. “Maybe she’ll figure that out someday but you can’t sit here thinking you’re worthless just because some tralk ran out on you.”
“She’s not a tralk,” Stark said, gritting his teeth. “She was…the best thing that happened to me in years. Cycles. And I wouldn’t change any of it except the end but the end is all that matters now, isn’t it? The end is the only thing that lasts and the end is why I’m here and why I can’t sleep and why everything hurts and why I’m alone. Again.” He stood as he was talking, turning away from Chiana.
“Stark.” When he didn’t turn back Chiana reached out and grabbed his arm. “Stark. I’m right here. You’re not alone. That…that was the idea.”
He did turn then, giving first her hand on his arm and then her face a very confused look. “What was the idea?”
“Maybe…maybe we can be lonely together for a little while?”
“We…isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“Stark, you’re not this dense. Are you? You’re lonely. I’m lonely. We’re both here.” She tugged him a little closer, grinning. “Might as well, right?”
He took a step back, shaking her hand loose from his arm. “I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not pity!”
“Then why?”
“I already said! It’s just…we’re both lonely. Both hurting. And I know you wouldn’t ever dream of trying anything on your own. Frell, Stark, we got completely drunk last night and you slept on the floor and almost ran away this morning when I said there was room in the bed. Maybe I just want to. Maybe I want to know what these other beautiful women have been getting that I’ve been missing out on. Maybe we could give each other a little comfort.”
“I…I don’t…I…I should go,” Stark stammered, then fled the room.
He avoided her the rest of the day. He avoided everyone for the rest of the day. Moya was a large ship so that wasn’t difficult. But that night Chiana, two more bottles of raslak in hand, was standing outside his quarters.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Peace offering?”
“No, you…you shouldn’t apologize. I…you startled me. Surprised me. And I…I didn’t know what to do. You…you can come in. If you like.”
“You sure? I can leave the bottle. Or both bottles.”
“I…Yes. I’m sure. Come in.” He stepped back from the door, leaving room for her to pass. “Please?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Chiana told him, walking in and sitting down on his bed. “Here you go.”
“Thank you,” he said softly, accepting the bottle she held out. He opened it, took a very long drink, then looked back at her. “I’m sorry. About before.”
“Don’t be. Offer’s still open,” she said in just as gentle a tone.
“I…I don’t…I think…”
“You think too much.” She patted the bed beside her and waited. He looked back at her, took another drink, then took a step toward the door. “You’re leaving?”
“No.” He shook his head slightly. “No. I…I wanted to be sure it was locked.” This might be a terrible idea. He might regret it. More likely, he thought, she would. But regrets could come later. For now, he was heading back towards the bed.
[NFB for distance. Could be open for contact after. Saddest alien might even be in a somewhat better mood.]