Stardate uhhhh after getting back to the Chiron after Sara-quest, before they went back on duty
it's 2021 who could possibly expect me to look back at logs and keep track of time anymore
Oleg doesn't let go very much, after Raqiin returns. He has to for the obvious things, and anytime she wants to visit, say, Sara. And while they are still all off, he's still technically in charge. But when they're around each other, he mostly attaches himself to her side.
It's very sweet, sure, even if the mix of relief and worry are cloying, choking. It's nice to have someone to care and to hold and to be there.
She also promised to fix things.
Obviously Oleg would never be crass enough to demand anything from her...at all, much less that the "fixing" of "things" start happening as soon as she's back when clearly...clearly something happened. But it'd be rude of her to keep him hanging.
She sits on the bed, legs curled under her, hands in her lap. Oleg is sitting behind her, leaning against her back like a large lazy cat who needs attention. And she sighs. "You know I'm not at liberty to talk about the captain's...issues."
"It is fine. She's here and safe with us." A contented rumble against her. Left unsaid: Raqiin is also safe and here.
"You still want to know."
"Of course. Natural curiosity. And wondering when we're going to turn the ship around and gun for whoever hurt her."
Raqiin barks out a laugh. "Even though we won't be doing that, I agree with the sentiment."
She feels a shift. "Oh? That's unusual."
"Yeah. I know." They lapse back into silence for a time, and it almost drives her to madness, the way he backs down, backs off, doesn't push. When they were younger, it was appreciated. Now it feels like...she doesn't know anymore. It gives her so much control, which is good, but it gives her control of something she's not even sure she wants control of. Or wants. And that hurts. "You ever love someone so much you'd do anything for them, something really stupid, something reckless and sure to cause you pain?"
It takes a moment, not even two, and she raises a hand to press to her face, growing hot. "Oh, geez, I'm so sorry, Ollie- I-I forgot for a second again you were married before."
Oleg disentangles himself and sits back a little, shaking his head when she glances at him over her shoulder. "It's all right." There's a pain there that she feels, solid, if small. The kind of grief one doesn't lose when one loses a loved one. "It was many years ago. But you have sussed the answer out to be yes, I think."
"I think Reed thought I was your rebound."
"I think," with a laugh, "a lot of engineering thought you were my rebound."
She doesn't ask, 'Was I?' That seems cruel. And she's not sure she wants the answer. The one he says and the one he feels.
She fiddles with her hands in her lap again, looking down at them. "I don't think I've felt love like that before."
The silence grows. She doesn't want to feel him, invasive in the moment, but she can't not, can't turn it off. He's thinking. He's looking at her with that tilt to his head like when he's trying to figure out some kind of issue with wiring or power distribution. And for a moment, she realizes that maybe the problem is she thinks she's broken.
"I think you have. You love, you know. Your love for your crew and your friends and your family is enormous. You love life so much that you keep on loving it even when everything is stacked against you. When the galaxy tells you there are lies and death and war and that no one cares, you defy all of that. You have so much love you do not even know what to do with it all."
It feels oddly like some of what she'd told Sara before.
"I wonder if I know what love feels like just because I've felt it from others before." She's certainly been around enough people who love, who really romantically love, to think she has an idea. And yet, inside of her? "Maybe I don't have any in myself."
"Raq-"
"I love you, but I don't know that I love you." She rushes the words out, because if she doesn't force them out now, they'll always be eating at the back of her throat. "You are more than a friend to me, but I...I don't know what that more is. And it's incredibly selfish of me to keep stringing you along like I'll make myself feel something that I don't, or, or that I'm not sure is in me."
There's another ringing, deafening silence.
"...Raqiin."
"I think," quietly, "we should take a break. While I sort myself out."
She can't block out feelings. So she feels the hurt. Lets it wash over her. The frustration, too. It's a long moment before she feels the bed shift under her, and Oleg stands.
"For you, I will do what you want." He doesn't make any snarky commentary that this is what fixing things look like, but he would be justified in doing so. "Know that I do love you. And that you have love in you, of many kinds. I..."
Whatever more he's going to say trails away. He tries a few more times, but nothing more comes out. With a noise of resignation, he leaves.
And she doesn't know why she thinks breaking things further will help her to fix them up again.