Rachel's head was pounding as the Russian
soldier pushed her down the dark p-way of the Vyerni.
She knew blood was coming from the head wound, tasted
the blood from her split lip against her tongue. Her jaw
ached from the blows and she just wanted to close
her eyes. But she couldn't, wouldn't,until she knew he
was all right.

When her vaccine on Ruskov's brother hadn't worked,
they'd separated her, Tom, and Tex. They'd taken her to
Ruskov's quarters and tried to coerce information from
her at first, before the man attempted to beat any
information she had out of her. She wasn't so easily
swayed, and despite herfear, her need to protect Tom
at all costs had kept her mouth shut.

And despite the massive headache, and the
blood and bruises she now wore, it was worth every
word left unsaid.

One soldier opened the door, while the other removed
the heavy metal hand cuffs. The disheveled man pushed
her roughly through the door, and all she could do once
she recovered her footing was sigh in relief that he was there.
Alive.

"Captain."

XXXXX

The second one of the Russian soldiers came to take Tex
away, he feels a sudden loss. An inner battle he was having
within his mind. Pissed off at the world. Pissed off that his
crew didn't listen to an ORDER he had made. And with NO
code in MIND. He's pissed that Tex is getting taken away,
to an unknown room. He's pissed that fuckin' Rachel just
had to pla O.

'What the hell are you doing here?'

It came to a shock, blood boiled – angry in his BONES.
Leaving him with a kiss, the taste of honey and mint lingering
on his tongue. A note on his tongue. 0400.

The Captain hadn't seen anyone in hours. Lips chapped, face
burned from the sun. Gritting his jaw, clenching and unclenching
his fist, the nerves getting to the better of him. Cyan hues close,
head resting against the metal bars. The moment he heard the
door swing open, head snaps up.

Rachel's once creamy sweater was now covered with blood spatter.
Blood, thickening by the second he was on this god forsaken ship.
If he could, he would kill every last Russian aboard this ship. A deep
breath in, he shows no emotion until she's in the cell with him.
Head shaking, he reacts like any Captain would, grabbing her face
taking check if she had anything broken– other than the blows
she took.

'What were you thinking?'

XXXXX

Rachel flinches in pain as he's touching her face, clenching her
sore jaw. Of course he's asking her what she was thinking.
In retrospect, she's not entirely sure because she didn't think
this was what she was signing up for. But now that they were
face to face once more, she knows more now than ever that
she did this for him.

She can tell he's upset, he has every right to be. Not one person
on the Nathan James had listened to his transmission, including
herself. And she knew she, of all people, was the the last
person who should have left the ship to go after him.

She can't meet his eyes, she can't imagine what she looks
like in this moment. And the kiss…a flush creeps up her bruising
cheeks and she relaxes ever so lightly into his hands despite herself.

At least she knows she's safe now, for this moment.

"Ruskov only wanted me. And your crew needs you.
This was the only option."

XXXXX

Thumb grazing against her split lip, wishing he could have some
sort of water for her. Not for him, but for HER. Gritting his jaw,
he's disregarding any sort of personal space, hand coming up to
run his fingers through her hair checking to see if she was a:
bleeding, and or b: a bump for a concussion. Tom's fingers are
slow, gentle, the questions clouding his judgement. What the
hell happened between her and Ruskov?

Laying a hand on a man, on a solider but a woman, a doctor
for that matter? It was a whole different story. It wakes up a
whole different side of Tom that he had long forgotten about.
Cyan hues snap towards her direction, did she truly mean that?
Did she think of herself so little? Jaw clenches, swallowing hard.

'There's always an option!'

His voice grew thick, dark, the Russian in the room glaring at him.
He sighs, free hand running through his short grey hair, shaking
his head while his hands traveled across her whole skull, minor
bumps here and there. The cut on her forehead was still bleeding
out. Grabbing the end of his navy shirt, ripping it, and applying it
to her forehead.

'You could've gotten killed.
Or worse. They didn't even
need to bring you here. They
could keep you hostage just
like Quincy's family. You're
too important to leave my ship.
And here you are.'

XXXXX

She can't help her eyes closing as he's looking her over,
his hands in her hair, his thumb on her lip.
It's unnerving having him this close
to her, touching her this way. Despite the fact that Ruskov
had just tried to touch her in a similar fashion, Tom is still
able to do it and not make her feel anything other than
warmth.

She shivers at the thought of Ruskov's hands on her and
she swallows hard, pushing the thoughts from her mind.
She won't tell Tom about it, she knows it'll only make
things worse. This should have gone off without a hitch,
this hostage part was not part of the plan.

He's pressing the fabric to her forehead and she hisses in
pain, biting the already split lip to hold back a whimper.

"Like I said, it was me he wanted. He was supposed
to exchange you and Tex for me once he was sure
the vaccine would work. Which it didn't, and that's
why we're now in this situation."

She waits a beat, her eyes focused on the middle of his
broad, strong chest.

"I suspect they put us together because of our
note-passing actions…"

Ruskov had tried to beatthat out of her too, thought there
was more to their relationship. That silence had left the bleeding lip.