DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters, I am justing using them for a little time.
WARNINGS: Angst, and some more angst. I wrote this a day after the first I think. Not sure if it makes sense.
This is meant to be a few weeks after the first story, Phoenix
Thank you to DeeJay for the help. Any errors esp. the sickbay part are mine.
Out of the ashes, hope will rise and take flight.
I don't know how to reach her. She is so close to me, yet so far.
How I wish I had the power to go back and do one thing different. But that is not to be. Instead I live with only memories.
My Bangwi is so lost. As am I. Kahless I weep for Nikita, and I weep for everything we have lost. Whatever innocence Seven still held onto was gone the moment our child died.
At night I wake up alone in our bed, and to the realisation that nothing and everything has altered.
Seven blames herself, I lay the blame on my shoulders. No one or one thing is to blame, they say random events led to the explosion. If we hadn't encountered a hostile species, we would not have pulled double shifts getting essentials online. We wouldn't have overlooked broken equipment. If we weren't all so busy ensuring the Doc was online and that the sickbay be prepared first. No one knew that faulty medical equipment would spark a loose wire, therefore triggering a fire at a time when new life was so fragile.
She may have made it if not for the Doc being disabled, and Tom dying. We were out of our league when it came to delicate surgery. Even if the Doc were there, the fatal haemorrhage was inoperable.
I guess though there are too many ifs, to get any real closure.
The only comfort I can take is that there was no pain. Neither one knew what had happened. Tom was so proud too, we were back to being good friends, and he wanted to spend time with his new favourite girl.
Seven spends most of her time just standing in the cargo bay. The green glow lighting her even paler features. She has lost so much weight, on the rare times she allows me to touch her, my hands feel bone and metal. I try to get her to eat, but it is a losing battle. She says how could she go on when her heart was taken from her.
I ask that myself. I have no response.
It has been days since my wife has returned to our bed. She doesn't sleep, works all the time, won't talk, and every time I go to touch her she recoils in panic. She told me how could she find happiness when so much has been lost. She doesn't feel like she should live.
I have to reach her. I need her like I need to draw breath to live. My heart beats only for her, without her by my side I am nothing.
I never believed a love could exist like that, but I know it does. I feel it every moment Seven's heart beats in time with mine. Her voice calms me and her strength means I don't have to play the protector all the time. One touch can bring me passion, one look lends me courage to go on.
Look at her in the Cargo Bay, so like a child now. The light in her eyes so dimmed, and full of anguish. I suppose mine look the same.
My Bangwi is so small and weary. She is slowly dying, as surely as I am. But I won't bury her like I have done Nikita and Tom. I need to tell her I love her, but I don't know if it is enough anymore.
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