In Dreams

Posted on Thu Jan 13th, 2011 @ 12:29am by Captain Elsie Halliwell & Lieutenant Commander Eliza McAdams

1,051 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Looking for the Future in all the Wrong Places
Location: Kerr's Guest VIP Quarters, USS Ranger
Timeline: Current

ON:

---

As the stale scent of whisky flowed from the Trill’s lips, Kerr sank deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state that was both vivid and distorted. The swirls of colour wisped back and forth in his mind’s eye as the tumbler clenched tightly in his hand loosened from his weakened grip and fell silently to the carpet. The amber liquid spewed forth from the open ended vessel and soaked into the grey carpeted deck of the Ranger.

The colours of purples and oranges began to take shape and, as he drifted ever softly into his dream, they began to take the shape of his beloved... of his heart.

Her features were, as ever, soft and subtle, devoid of recrimination whilst at the same time capable of instilling great shame. Sonaata was not a judgmental woman, in some ways being frustratingly too much the opposite, but her kindness, her compassion and the exuded belief that everyone was worth a measure of faith had a habit of leading a man to examine the depths of his soul and immediately wish he hadn't. He had seen arrogant, craven men falter uncertainly under the weight of her unprejudiced interest, unsure how to interpret the intentions of a woman who seemed to genuinely believe that all actions possessed a redeeming quality. In a universe full of contradiction, competition and self-interest, Sonaata was an eternal optimist and by some strange dint of fate, it seemed to work for her. She made a person feel he could be better whilst at the same time assuring that she neither required it nor expected it.

To be fair, though, her eyes betrayed an element of disappointment.

"You're making a mess."

Lilting affection gave her tone an element of loving amusement but, as always, Sonaata's choice of words held the promise of deeper meaning. The soaked carpet was cause enough for the observation but the hidden concern, tucked so neatly behind the layer of serenity that was, by now, an unconscious mask, reminded him that her eyes hadn't left his face long enough to register the spill. The realisation was enough to rouse his drug-laced mind. He knew her; he knew her, beyond the magnificence of her ingrained disposition. He held amongst many distinctions the ability, where others failed, to coax her to admit when she was worried, unhappy or confused. The mask was perfect but it didn't fool him. She was scared. Sonaata was scared. They had taken her, stolen her without identifiable cause and she was scared. But not for herself. Never for herself.

She was scared for him.

As the blurred vision of his heart faded and the solid outline of his love grew in the steady light of the room, Kerr stirred again and focused on the music-box voice of Sonaata. Like a proverbial cold splash of water on his strengthened features, the Trill woke-up fully to her loving face, and reached out with a tender hand to caress the soft lines. In his eyes already lay the pools of tears that steadily grew, flowing into them all of his sorrow and brokenness as they crept from the edges to adorn his cheek like crystals of weakness. He knew he was lost in his own despair, and knew that his weight would not buoy on its surface without the lightness of Sonaata to float him. As he softly wept into his palm, and cradled her face with his other, he knew of his reality and of his pain.

“Where are you, my love?†he managed. “Where are you?â€

"Somewhere," came the enigmatic reply, coupled with a familiar sweet smile that wielded sadness and sacrifice in heart-breaking quantities. "Everywhere. There was a time when I was here," she continued, reaching out a hand to lay over his sternum, "Just as there was a time when you forced yourself to make that enough. Times change." With intangible fluidity, Sonaata took perch upon the arm of Coltan's chair and stared at him, for countless seconds, with unforgiving frankness. This was the strength of character that so many liked to assume she failed to possess; Kerr knew better.

"Are you really going to find me at the bottom of a glass?" A gentle eyebrow arched upwards. "More to the point, Coltan, are you going to forgive yourself if someone else finds me first?" The question hung in the air as the Elasian allowed it time to hit home and then she sighed, an expression of uncertainty that only he ever heard. "This wasn't part of our promise, Kerr. In fact, it's very close to being the exact opposite."

He gently took the hand that lay delicately nestled in her lap and the sweet smell of her skin flourished in his nostrils from the fluid movement. Her words fell upon the edges of his ears and began to slowly leach into his conscious, waking mind. Sonaata was right, he thought as the connective notions lined up like dominoes from the woman’s words. As the first connected lightly with the second, it teetered on the brink before kissing the third. Then, like a rush of gravity to a row of black and white tablets, everything fell clear into his mind. He jolted forward from the chair, looked down and saw the ominous stain on the carpet. “Rory,†he said to himself in the first realisation since Sonaata had been taken. “Where’s my Rory?â€

He stood up unsteadily, gripped the arm of the chair where Sonaata had just stood and breathed in. He took in breath as though it was the first time he had done so... Like the first time he had opened his eyes after the joining. A smile of hope pulled gently at the corners of his mouth as his muddled mind tried to make sense of what had happened, and now what he had to do. He reached for a towel and took the long, arduous walk to the shower.

OFF:


Coltan Kerr,
Relieved Commanding Officer, USS Archimedes


AND

Sonaata Parr,
Royal Elasian Ambassador, USS Archimedes

 

RSS Feed