[20.] The Hurts That Don't Quite Heal

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[20] The Hurts That Don’t Quite Heal

As I followed behind Jim, I realized that I was probably making a huge mistake. Me, of all people, on the U.S.S. Enterprise, embarking on a secret mission to capture a terrorist who murdered and injured several Starfleet seniors? I almost had to laugh. I wasn’t cut out for something like this. I could barely walk straight, let alone carry myself around an enormous vessel with confidence and maturity. I won’t lie; I was beyond terrified. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Astrid and Scotty and Bones, and how they were on the very ship I was about to enter. And that was enough for me to ignore my sweaty palms and palpitating heart.

“Catherine?”

I blinked a few times before looking up. My eyes found Jim, watching me with confusion.

“What were you saying?” I asked politely.

“I said to take a left here,” he explained, “and you kind of just kept going…”

I felt myself turn red, but chose not to make a huge deal out of it.

“I’m sorry. I must’ve spaced out.”

He smiled, and when he did, it nearly broke my heart. The Jim I had met in that coffee shop was a carefree young man with a spirit of fire and adventure. His smiles then had meant mischief and happiness. Now…now his smiles were solemn; an expression of emotional ruin.

“That’s fine,” he said. And then he said nothing else. Usually he would’ve quipped about my blush or flirted shamelessly with me (which I absolutely hated), but now, it seemed as if he could hardly even speak a word. I felt a small crack appear in my already breaking heart. Please let the rest of them be okay, I thought desperately. I can’t bear to see them so miserable and afraid.

We finally reached the transportation room after the longest, most uncomfortable two minutes I had ever experienced, save for my first meeting with Bones. Jim stepped onto a pad at the left, and I took the one on the right. I had never been transported somewhere. The very idea of the culmination of my particles flying through the air made my stomach turn upside down.

“Going up, captain?” a woman in a red uniform asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “Energize.”

She nodded, and before I could ask why on earth he had said, “energize”, light swirled around me and I was surrounded by white walls. My mouth fell open as I observed the room I was now standing in. Jim chuckled.

“Something wrong, Catherine?”

“No, nothing,” I exhaled. “I’ve just…never done that before.”

“Well, then, what did you think?”

I thought for a moment. “It was a little anticlimactic, actually.”

He shrugged. “Well, follow me then. I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“I get living quarters?”

“Yeah, though I can almost guarantee you won’t be there very much.”

“I figured…”

After that, the conversation sort of just stopped. I didn’t know what to say, and it was obvious that he didn’t either. As much as I wanted to be excited over the whole experience, I couldn’t. I was too worried about the entire thing. I kept my eyes trained on the bleached ground, fearing that if I looked up at all, it would ruin the discomfort that I felt the moment truly needed. Without the awkwardness, where would be the reality of the severity of our situation? It was no time to be carefree and lighthearted. We were on a mission-a particularly dangerous mission-to avenge our dear friends and solidify our future safety.

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