The room was quiet, filled with a lazy sort of trepidation, a silent light. Everything was still and the medicine made it seem heavy. Helen was coming, coming with the healer. Thaessu who wanted into his mind, wanted through his skull
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Nero paced, coiled and furious, and he'd always had startling reach from such broad shoulders. An easy mistake, to assume he was less quick with his back turned.
Couldn't let her make it, with those brittle human bones, with her thin human teeth that rattled little human lies.
He'd had exactly enough of being insulted. Didn't even matter anymore, whether it was on purpose, whether she meant it.
"Honorable?" A long slow hiss of air built behind the word, like steam through his teeth. "You dare. That word. With me."
He broke ranks and yanked Helen close.
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The order, the reprimand, never made it to his tongue. His arms were too coiled, and the fastest answer was a swing. It was uncoordinated, at least relatively, and his fist soft-closed as it caught Ayel in the side. A punch, to the back and side, where they were softest. He didn't know if navigation had the same regime, but it was a spot the infantry instructors had preferred.
There was no stronger order to stand down than the inability to stand.
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Stupid. It flashed through his mind as his knees went liquid with pain and lurched under him.
Even Vulcans didn't know that trick. Or wouldn't use it.
They probably wouldn't fall with their whole weight, either, use the drop to cling tightly to the hinges of their attacker's legs and pull.
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"Argere!"
He pushed up on his arms and snarled. "Idiot."
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Somehow she managed to get to her feet, and she grabbed for her phaser with shaking fingers, whipped it out and pointed it down towards the Romulans, using both hands to hold it steady.
"Stop it," she commanded. "Now." The cell was a disaster, chairs strewn across the floor and the table dented. She guestured towards one of the cots with the phaser. "Get up off the floor and sit down, or I'll call the guards and you'll both be back in solitary. For good."
She was vaguely aware that Nero had stepped in on her behalf, but she didn't care. Things were rapidly getting out of hand, and it had to stop.
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She was shaking, the tiny weapon clenched in her hands. She didn't have it in her to kill them. He levied a spare kick at Ayel for his foolishness and pushed himself up onto his knees.
"If you are going to speak," he hissed as his breath crept back in. "Make it worthwhile."
His chest and head hurt, his spine, his knees, and his hands were filled with splinters of pain. He didn't want to get back up, and the flavor of the swirling in his mind, the nostalgic yellow twist of it, trapped and hovering around jade, around nothing, drained his energy.
He slumped back onto his arms and drew a long breath.
"Get out."
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Algere? Dhat, llaekh, dii hrhae'a.
At least it didn't bleed. He'd had that one coming. He was out of bounds, even if he wasn't wrong, exactly.
He hissed, struggled to his haunches--his knees were taking their time about working right.
He scowled up at her, up past the tip of the weapon and right at her.
"Why?" Talking hurt. Was going to for a while. "Why stay?"
He didn't understand it.
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If they wanted to talk, she would talk with them.
Helen lowered the phaser slowly, watching the Romulans for any sign of movement. But she didn't put it away, and she didn't move any closer. She lowered herself to a crouch, ready to run if necessary, to bolt for the door. She looked seriously at Ayel.
"Because I promised to help," she answered. "I can't do that if I'm not here."
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He blinked, watched her move to a level with him, hand still threaded to squeeze off a shot if she had to. But not aimed, not focused. He squinted hurt to do that, too; he didn't flinch. It was his own fault.
"Hope is a dangerous thing."
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"Dangerous," she repeated. "Why do you say that?"
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Was withdrawn better or worse or just different? He used to know. Used to extrapolate and hope he knew.
He shivered.
Helen's question was easier, focused. He caught at it.
"It has no place here." He'd never said so aloud before. But it fell to the floor stones and rang true. "It can drive you--" sharp step back, no hesitation, fluid transposition of more meaningless Air, "to distraction. Misdirection. They'll use it on you, but there's no such thing."
It wasn't even bitter. Most facts weren't, anymore.
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"You don't believe I really want to help you," she said slowly. "Or do you not think that I can?"
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"What I think," he turned the words over slowly. "I think maybe--"
That none of us...
No, that was the wrong tack, too strong an undercurrent, warping the lines of position. But he had no way to take a bearing, in this place.
"It's too easy to cut hope down until it's just wishing." He shifted, folded his palm to the floor, sketched nothing in the nonexistent dust. "You want to help. Be careful it isn't a wish."
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Hopes and wishing.
His head was swirling, settled wrong, and she shuddered.
"Enough," he snapped and slammed his hands down flat, pushed himself up. "Enough," he repeated. "Help or do not, there is no in between."
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She rose with him, turning to face him.
"I'm doing my best," she said levelly. She knew it wasn't enough for him, but there was nothing she could do to change that. She couldn't predict the future, what might help him and what would make things worse. She couldn't promise not to make mistakes.
"What more can I do, Nero?"
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He shook his head again and turned, moved away from her and retook his pacing.
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