The Release

by Suz

Disclaimer - Paramount owns them, I play with them.

PG-13 for swearing. Very short.


Falling forward, her knees impacting on the carpet in her quarters, she bent towards the floor in a futile attempt to keep control. One hand pressed on her stomach and now the other pushed on her chest, wanting to rub the pain away.

Opening her mouth to whisper "Oh God," her throat was too tight to articulate anything other then a raw groan. The low noise carried through the room barely above a whisper.

Her eyes stung and she tried to blink away the excess moisture, focusing on trying to breathe, breathe.

A sob emerged and she was lost.

Tears escaped from her eyes, creating trails of moisture over her face before falling and hitting the floor. The liquid absorbed into the carpet, unnoticed.

The hand on her chest had now moved up to her neck, clutching onto her throat. Where was her fucking control? Wanting so much to scream out, shout, howl, all she could do was sob quietly, physcially unable to do anything else.

His hands were on her body then. Touching her shoulders before moving down to rub her back. No, no, he couldn't help her. He couldn't help her at all. Trying to move, trying to push him away, her attempts were almost pitiful. No one could see her grieve like this; not even him.

He didn't back away, didn't leave her. Not this time. Grabbing onto her harder despite her struggling, he bent behind her and moved his arms around her body until his hands touched over her stomach. Rocking with her as she moved backwards and forwards he attempted to whisper something but it came out as nothing more than a long breath. Unable to speak, unable to say anything that would comfort her, he squeezed her tighter and buried his face into the back of her neck.

Her speech still completely useless, she couldn't verbally object, couldn't say "no", couldn't push him away like that. Yet she still tried to struggle against him. This was something too personal, too private for even...

...she stopped struggling when she felt the wetness on her neck. His own tears were running over her skin, soaking the top of her uniform, but he made no noise. No noise at all.

Sobbing again, she moved her hand so that one of his was on her stomach. Placing the hand she had just moved away on top of his, she shuddered. It was the only way she would ever be able to say thank you.

It ended then. As slowly as it had started it ended suddenly and with no warning. She didn't feel ready, there was still so much trapped within that wanted to get out.

Still rocking backwards and forwards with him she noticed how comforting the movements were. Something reassuring about them.

She was utterly exhausted. Her sticky eyelids wanted to close but she forced them open. Even the endless late nights of too many reports and too much coffee had never made her feel this tired. This was something different.

Sniffling, knowing this was only the beginning of an incredibly long process, she leant to her right side and fell to the floor. He went with her, knowing that they needed to rest. Stretching out their legs, he pulled her even closer although it seemed impossible.

He still shuddered.

She lifted up his hand and kissed it.

Resting his face into the back of her neck again, he whispered her name.


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