Thirds and Sixths
Summary: After Shaw is downed by a phaser blast, Seven sends his body to Sickbay and a stasis bed. But not even that is going to pull him back. He needs Seven, her Borg implants, and a crazy plan.
Which is what he gets because she is not letting him die without a fight.
Three
~How many did we lose?~
Shaw's question comes as Seven is working her way through the manifest, noting those who next of kin need notifying.
"Eight, including T'Veen." She does not include him. "It might have been more but we figured out how to use the phasers as transporters. That meant we no longer had to kill our own."
~T'Veen was hard. Poor kid. She didn't deserve that~
"It should have been me."
Seven swallows the guilt but it persists. Shaw is quiet for a while but she senses him thinking about that moment. Those that led up to it. Her defiance over blowing the lift. Their vicious, albeit whispered, argument. One of the few genuine ones, though they'd butted heads before.
~You don't want a first officer that just agrees with you~ Shaw says then. ~You need an opposing view~ He laughs softly. ~You were definitely that~
"I was what you needed?"
~Way to make it sound needy. You were my choice, Seven. Let that be enough. And no, it should not have been you. It shouldn't have been anyone~
"If I'd blown the lift..."
~They would have found another way in. Look, I was a bit pissed about you defying a direct order, but I was more afraid of what was going to happen. Rightly, as T'Veen showed ~
"Consequences," Seven sighs.
~My fault, if anything, for choosing to protect Crusher's kid~
Like Liam Shaw would ever have done anything else. Right from the start, Seven had known he would protect his crew and that, name aside, she was part of that. He'd pulled her back on the bridge.
"We should have Jack on the ship," she says aloud. "We both know Jean-Luc isn't going to be the father he needs. Not once the drama is past. And Beverley is too busy chasing what ought to be in the past."
Shaw grunts. ~True that. I'll think about it. We're already the Starship of Misfit Toys. Not sure I want to add Picard's feral blow-by to the list~
Seven grins. "Liar."
~Seven, I’m in your head as a direct consequence of all that bullshit daring-do. Let me have a goddamn minute on it, okay?~
"Okay."
She lays the records of the dead out, and puts his to one side. It hurts to not be able to discount the need for it. That she might still lose him after all of this. He goes still in her head and she flinches - he can sense some thoughts, though she doesn't believe he can read her mind entirely, and he has obviously caught that one. That he's experienced the hurt and despair she feels at the idea of his death.
~Don't fight for me more than you have~ he says then, the voice in her head ever so soft. ~You've done enough, Seven. You have to be prepared to let me go~
She wipes tears away. "How? How exactly do I do that?"
His sigh is helpless. He doesn't offer her a solution.
"Could you let me go?" she asks. "If our situation was reversed?"
Any answer he might have given is interrupted by the ping of her comm.
"Mura to Captain Seven."
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"We're approaching the Starbase."
"On my way," she replies and cuts the comm. "Come on," she says to Shaw.
~Like I've a choice in the matter~
His voice is as fond as it's exasperated and Seven sympathises – that's exactly how she feels about him.
o O o
Seven stands at a viewing window and looks over the Titan. The ship is in poor shape and she feels Shaw's sorrow at the sight. Shares his quiet grief. It's not just about the ship, but the traumatised crews and the long-lasting effect on Starfleet... if it chooses to acknowledge those effects.
She sighs, aware that it very likely won't.
~I suppose it was largely a bloodless coup~ Shaw's tone is wry. Bitter. ~The death toll could have been higher~
"That's bullshit and you know it." Seven focuses on her reflection in the glass and glares at herself, hoping he can see that in her mind. "I know every death counts, Shaw."
He gives a sad little laugh. ~That it does. You gonna contact the families?~
She could wait to see if he recovers, but that's an awful thing to lay on someone just pulled back from the dead. She feels his guilt at surviving yet again. He won't go to therapy. Although right now, he doesn't have a choice in the matter.
~Don't you fucking dare, Hansen~ He's truly angry; the way he has rarely been but she knows him well enough to recognise when he is. ~We'll have a falling out that no apology from you could fix~
She closes her eyes and leans against the glass. "It wasn't a serious thought. But you really should talk to someone about it.”
~I've talked to you~
"I don't count."
~Fuck that. You understand~ He pauses for a moment, then, gentler; ~You know that you can talk to me, right? If you needed to, I mean~
"Maybe not in an open corridor."
He chuckles and she smiles. ~Maybe not. So... your place or mine?~
Seven rolls her eyes but she isn't able to stop the giggle from escaping. "Ass."
She heads back to the Titan and her quarters. Shaw is quiet again. This time she gets it - she's exhausted as well. It has been a long few days and having two consciousnesses in her head is tiring.
Concern washes through her. ~It's too much, Hansen~
"I am fine. Settle down."
~You do realise I can feel how fucking tired you are, right?~
"I'd reached that conclusion, yes." She starts to undo her jacket, then freezes, her eyes on the mirror. "Dammit, can you not look? Somehow?"
If he was physical, she knows he'd have just rolled his eyes. ~Not really, no. Try not looking in the fucking mirror~
Her mind feels hot. Has she embarrassed him? She pokes the sense of him and he groans. That is not embarrassment. Her cheeks flush.
"Shaw," she admonishes.
~I'm still male. Give me a fucking break~
He's never ogled her. Never given the slightest clue that he thinks she's attractive. Discovering differently gives her a warm glow.
"I didn't think you thought of me like that."
~I’m not blind, Hansen~ He huffs. ~Or dead yet~
She grins at her reflection, then turns away from the mirror to change. Shaw starts humming, the tune unknown to her, and she suspects he's distracting himself from what she's seeing. The nightwear she opts for is far staider than her usual attire. She can't give him a heart attack while he's in her head, but she does want to avoid further awkwardness.
"I think you might have broken a regulation or two," she murmurs as she climbs into bed. "At least in your head. For the record, you never made me feel uncomfortable in that way."
~Good to know~ He coughs and she bites back a smile. ~Did you? Break a reg in your head?~
Seven orders the lights down. In the dark, in her bed, his presence is an almost-physical thing and her body responds to the stimulus. His groan is softer but more pained.
"Yes," she admits. "I did."
~Seven~
She aches for him. Not for the first time, but now he knows. More, he reciprocates that need. She sighs in the dark, aware of what they could have had. How much time they've lost.
~Against regulation~ he points out. ~You know me, Seven. How long could we go before I resented you? Hated myself?~
"And when you're back in your body?" When, not if. "We go back to that, I guess."
~Fuck that. I'm too old for this shit. If I retire, I'm out of the chain of command~ The sense of him gets odd, somehow sharp. ~What if I asked you out? You gonna say yes, Hansen? Or tell me where to go?~
"You’re in my head, Shaw. What do you think?" Delight zips along her nerves and she laughs. Settles herself in the bed. "Now go to sleep."
~Goodnight, Seven~
"Goodnight, Liam."