#detmers.doc

Well, it was a secret. Briefly. Back in the beginning when things were new and they suddenly went from friends to something more. With new things, it is best to keep it under wraps, else you might end up becoming the scuttlebutt of the week before you are ready to label things. Then the break up is even more awkward, especially on a small ship like Discovery.

It happened at some point after jumping into the 32nd century; their relationship forged in unfamiliar space and time, growing stronger and stronger with each adversity the ship faced together. This part of the story wasn’t exactly a part of the collective memory, as how they got from roommates to girlfriends was kept close to their chests.

(A bottle of wine and some slow dancing in the light of an unfamiliar star may have been involved in that.)

But by this point in time, Detmer and Owosekun had been dating for over a year, and it was old news. They weren’t hiding anymore; the two of them walked the halls hand in hand, had the occasional romantic dinner in the mess hall, and cuddled during movie nights, all in addition to their long-standing habit of engaging in lingering looks on the bridge.

Despite this, Commander Michael Burnham had yet to notice.

At first, it was expected. Flying through a wormhole into a new century was a bit of a bigger deal than the personal life of her bridge crew. Then, she was stranded for a year. Then, it was investigating the Burn… and so on.

After a while, it became an inside joke amongst the bridge crew.

“She said what?” Tilly giggled. A bit of her drink spilt onto the table in her exuberance. The group of them had filled a large booth at the bar tucked into the corner of Starfleet headquarters, the large windows giving them a nice view of the rainforest ship. The space was cozy and filled to the brim with Discovery crew enjoying their evening off on home territory.

“I’m so glad you two are such good ‘friends,’” Rhys said, putting air quotes over the last word.

“Oh yes look at them,” Bryce said, gesturing at how Detmer was curled up, with her legs sprawled on Owosekun’s lap, the two women basically entangled with each other despite having lots of room on their side of the booth. “Such good friends.”

“A girl can play with another girl’s hair without it being gay,” Tilly countered, then she noticed the way Owosekun was gazing at her girlfriend as she ran her fingers through Detmer’s red hair and lightly caressed the juncture between implant and hairline. “Actually no that’s super gay.”

The entire table burst into laughter as Owosekun shrugged.

“Maybe we’re just very good friends,” Detmer said, her own hands occupied by attempting to locate the maraschino cherry that was trapped under the ice in her Cardassian sunrise, and failing to impale the fruit with the sharp end of her tiny paper umbrella. “But seriously, I’m sure I’ve referred to Joann as my girlfriend multiple times in front of the commander.”

“‘Girlfriend’ can technically be platonic,” Nilsson said. “Maybe she thought you were referring to her as your gal pal.”

“Nothing about those two is platonic,” Linus huffed, “but perhaps her limited human vision means that she missed some of the signs.”

“I, for one, do not want to know what those signs were,” Rhys announced. “I already hear too much sharing a wall with those two.”

Detmer tried to punch him lightly on the arm, but he dodged her, raising his fists in a mock-defensive posture.

“Not to mention that you can totally tell when they’re sending messages on their consoles,” Nilsson added. “I can hear Owo giggling all the way from my station.”

“Don’t forget about Keyla’s blushing!” Linus said, “You wouldn’t believe the heat signature her… pale face emits.”

“Hey!” Detmer protests, her face betraying her and lighting up in a saturated flush. “No fair.”

“Friends totally look at each other like that,” Linus said with a sarcastic click. “Friends.”

Owosekun planted a kiss on her girlfriend's bright red cheek.

“Don’t forget that jolt Discovery made that one time when Owo made an innuendo as we were escaping the space flower. I thought we were going to die!” Tilly said and the crowd burst into laughter.

“That was the creature's tongue I swear!” Detmer said. “It was sending off a subspace riptide and you know it!”

“Yeah it was that tongue that you were thinking about, sure,” Owosekun whispered into her ear, only making things worse.

“Why are you ganging up on me?” Detmer hissed.

“It’s quite fun to get my macho pilot in such a state,” she replied.

“Ew!” the group exclaimed collectively at her words, which were definitely not as quiet as she intended.

“Anyway, Commander Burnham’s got more important things to worry about,” Owosekun argued. “She saves the entire galaxy every week.”

“ We save the galaxy every week, too,” Rhys said as he gestured with his glass, “and we’re still able to keep track of who’s doing who on the ship.”

“Gen,” Bryce scolded. “Maybe it’s good that the commander doesn’t know that.”

“Speaking of-” Tilly said, leaning in to whisper. “We have to discuss whatever is going on with Saru and President T’Rina!”

No one informed the commander that evening, and if she noticed something between the two women — or saw their not-so-secret make-out session in the corner of the bar that evening — she didn’t say anything.

“Should we tell her?” Owosekun said, laughing as she walked down the hall with her girlfriend, both a little tipsy after their festivities.

“Hello commander,” Detmer said, pretending to stand at attention and saluting an imaginary Michael Burnam. “We would like to inform you that me and my super hot and sexy girlfriend, Joann Owosekun, and I are totally having amazing sex in our shared quarters, like, all the-”

Owosekun cut her off with a hand over her mouth. “Shush! What if someone hears?”

Detmer stuck her tongue out, forcing Owosekun to let her go. The lieutenant commander stumbled away, wiping her hands on her civvies in mock-disgust.

“Oh come on,” Detmer said. “You know, like half of our neighbours have heard us. For future tech, these walls are thin and you’re good.”

Owosekun just rolled her eyes and walked through the doors to their quarters.

When they had gotten to the 32nd century, they each had been offered single quarters instead of their shared room, but after all they had been through in that room, they had turned it down. When Owosekun had politely declined the offer, Captain Saru had tilted his head and suggested that if they were interested, they could be assigned a larger room for the both of them instead. They had taken this option.

This was the room that they drunkenly stumbled into. It had a large bed and an ensuite bathroom. Definitely an upgrade from their two twin beds on opposite sides of the room. Well, they had only been on opposite sides of the room for a few months before they decided to push the beds together. Back then, they enjoyed sharing a bed. As friends. Friends who cuddle and comfort each other after nightmares and friends who drunkenly kiss once in a while. Friends.

Owosekun pushed Detmer down onto their bed, watching her red hair splay out like a halo before climbing up onto her, her knees resting on either side of Detmer’s hips.

“You know,” Detmer said as Owosekun kissed along her jaw towards her ear. “If we get married then Michael would have to realize we’re together.”

“Keyla…” Owosekun said, pulling back to look at her. “Was that a proposal?”

“I’m just saying,” she said with a laugh and a glint in her bright blue eyes.

Owosekun laughed in return before surging forward to kiss her deeply, the buzz of alcohol and the exhilaration that came with every touch banished thoughts of anything but the beautiful woman in the bed they shared.

A real proposal came a few months later. It was a quiet moment with another bottle of wine and a ring that Detmer showed off the next morning at breakfast to a crowd of cheers from their friends. The two women sat beaming as their love and commitment was congratulated and celebrated by those they loved.

By this point, the question of the commander's awareness had slipped their minds completely.

This was how the giddy pair ended up in an officer’s meeting with a very confused Commander Michael Burnham and a crew trying to suppress their laughter.

“Does anyone else have anything to add?” Burnham asked the group after she and Captain Saru had finished her run-down on their latest mission from Starfleet command.

“Actually commander,” Detmer said, raising her hand slightly. “We’d like to, er, announce something.”

“We?” she asked with a Vulcan-like quirk of her eyebrow.

“Joann and I,” Detmer clarified.

“I proposed to Keyla last night,” Owosekun said, and for emphasis, Detmer held up her hand revealing the shiny duratanium that was salvaged from a damaged section of the hull. Owosekun had made it herself, with a little bit of help from Jett Reno and Adira Tal in engineering, who when seeing it in the meeting, gave the fiancées a matching set of thumbs up.

“And a hearty congratulations are in order for the brides to be!” Captain Saru said, clasping his hands together in his excitement.

“Proposed… marriage?” Burnham asked haltingly. The table burst into laughter once their suspicions were confirmed: she truly was oblivious of their relationship.

“Well I guess now she knows!” Tilly exclaimed as the confusion on Michael’s face was incredibly clear. Her mouth was open and her brows furrowed.

“You never said anything-“ Michael stuttered, looking between Tilly and the couple with a look of betrayal on her face. Tilly shrugged, grinning at the commander's befuddlement.

“What a beautiful couple,” Dr. Culber said with a smile. “I’m happy for both of you.”

Bryce shook his head while Nilsson grinned, knowing she had won their betting pool. Bryce began tapping at his PADD under the table, forwarding her his upcoming holosuite slots for payment.

"So you put a ring on it. Finally," Reno said. “Don’t fuck it up, Owosekun."

Owosekun just smiled at he engineer who continued after a slight pause: "You either, Detmer.”

Keyla rested her right hand on her chest and said: "Scouts honour."

Both women were grinning in their joy but couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that after all this time, the Commander still hadn’t noticed their relationship.

“Are you telling me that Commander Burnham didn’t know?” Saru asked with a quirk of his head and a click of his tongue. He looked over to his Number One whose head was held in her hands in mortification at the fact that everyone in the room knew but her.

“They literally live together,” Stamets said with a furrowed brow.  “Didn’t you have to oversee their couples quarters?”

“No- I,” Burnham stuttered. “I thought they were just really good friends.”

Her body was warm from the couple of glasses of synthehol that she had drank at the ship's bar, chatting with Ensign Adira Tal after the eventful away mission. She thought she was going to spend the night drinking alone, sitting at the bar with her thoughts of the past and a yearning for something she was sure she’d never have, but Adira had sat down with her. They had shown up clutching at their drink and smiling nervously, and then asked to join her.

She was not drunk per-se, it was tough to get truly sloshed off of the stuff from the replicators, but she was definitely not sober. Good, she thought, maybe I needed it . Time away from the storm that was brewing in her brain. She had pushed herself further than she could handle, staying up late to talk to the younger officer, and in result, her entire body was protesting. She was exhausted, but after the day she had, she didn't want to go back to her empty quarters.

In her quarters, she would be alone. She realized that she didn’t want to be alone. Not after whatever that was on the alien planet.

She missed her old room. Deck four, room two-oh-one. After she got promoted, she got assigned to a larger, spacious room with a large window and an ensuite bathroom, but no roommate. That was the problem: she missed having someone to come home to.

She used to like living alone. After everything with her dad… Keyla was better on her own. Being alone was safer. Given this, the communal bunks on her first assignment had been the worst sleep she’d ever had. There were so many people. Snoring. Talking. Laughing. It set her on edge. As an only child, she’d never had to share a room before let alone sharing a hallway with four other ensigns. She hated it, and barely slept during her first commission. Later, after she had been promoted to lieutenant and was reassigned to Shenzhou, Keyla relished the silence of sleeping alone. Which, she acknowledged, sounds a bit sad. It wasn’t like she didn’t sleep with people, but actually spending the night wasn’t something Keyla did. She was more of a slipping out once the other person fell asleep kind of person. She did have a roommate — Lieutenant Miller, a science officer — but she was on the Beta shift and they only overlapped early in the morning, brushing their teeth in their ‘fresher, a comfortable silence between them. She appreciated how they were able to coexist, but wouldn’t have called her a friend. She died early in the Battle of the Binaries. Keyla hadn’t had time to mourn her loss.

When she had first been assigned to the USS Discovery, complete with a fresh cybernetic implant and shell-shocked from the start of the Klingon War, she had assumed that the massive Crossfield-class ship would offer single rooms for their bridge crew. Keyla had set her duffel-bag down in a huff when she had arrived to find two beds in her room assignment.

She never expected that her roommate would become her entire world in such a short span of time.

Now that she finally had a room to herself, Keyla barely slept.

She missed their late night conversations after shift. She missed her soft breath, a comforting rhythm that would lull Keyla back to sleep in the middle of the night. She missed their holomovie nights, how they fought over where to stow their laundry and whether Keyla was allowed to leave her socks strewn on the floor and whether or not they should close the blinds or keep their small window open so that they could see the stars. Joann Owosekun was in favour of the stars.

It wasn’t like Keyla didn’t see Joann every day. They had duty together on the bridge, both sitting together at the front, placed perfectly for the occasional glance in each other's direction or a joke said under their breath.

It wasn’t the same.

Swaying slightly, Keyla walked past her new room, forgoing sleep for a few moments longer.

She kept moving. If she didn’t stop, she wouldn’t have to face it all. At least, that’s been her mantra for most of her life. If she kept occupied, distracted, she could avoid the pain.

She had almost said something when Saru told her about her new room assignment, but what would she even say? “Sorry Captain, I don’t want to get a better room, I actually like living with Lieutenant Commander Owosekun.” That didn’t sound like something Keyla would say. Not out loud . So instead, she nodded and pretended to be smug about her promotion at dinner with the other bridge crew.

As she walked through the dim empty corridor, it felt like she was on autopilot. The helmsman lost control over her body's flightpath, as her mind was elsewhere, down on the planet. In a truly alien nursery.

She could still feel the recycled air in her EV suit brushing against her hair, the strange quality of the light that filtered through the atmosphere, and the way Saru’s body language shifted with each minute they were down on the planet. She could still hear the screams of the landing party, feel the way her hands shook as she reprogrammed their air filters and see the immense pain in her crewmate's eyes. Most of all, her mind drifted to the nursery and the way the hydrocarbons affected her.

Lost in thought, Keyla walked, her long legs carrying her through the empty halls. Earth was on her mind, her homeworld, which was no longer hers. Now, it was in danger. For all they knew, the DMA had accelerated and all of this first contact was for nothing, but that was a type of pessimism that didn’t fly on Discovery. Earth was home, but it also wasn’t. The blue green marble looked the same, the sun on her skin felt the same, and as she sat under the large tree near Starfleet Academy, she could pretend she was in her own time. But this wasn’t her time, this wasn’t her Earth. No home. Did Keyla ever have a home?

The nursery felt like a home, but one that Keyla had never known. Growing up, Keyla knew her house was different. She only had one parent, unlike her friends who all had at least two. When she went over to her friends house, there was always a parent fussing over their child, replicating orange slices and making sure they didn’t watch too many holos. Keyla never invited anyone over, in return.

Her home felt nothing like the nursery. There was no safety. No warmth. Her dad wasn’t really there, a ghost of himself even before he died. After jumping to the future, Keyla learned that there was little difference between being dead a handful of years and being dead for centuries. Ghosts were ghosts, no matter how much time passed, and the alien planet made that clear for her. They still had power over the living.

She found herself standing nervously outside of her former roommate’s new quarters. It reminded her of a few months ago when, after a long day on the bridge, Keyla found herself outside of her old room, confused as to why the doors weren’t automatically opening for her, before realizing she was on deck three, not two.

Keyla closed her eyes, the lingering effects of the dust still seeming to buzz in her brain. Doctor Pollard had cleared her after she had returned to the ship, scanning her twice at Keyla’s insistence. No abnormalities. No lasting effects, not on her biological brain nor her cybernetic implant that formed a significant chunk of her temporal lobe. She wasn’t quite sure if that was true, if something like that wouldn’t affect her. How would they even be able to tell? They were flying blind out here, beyond the galactic barrier.

Keyla’s mind fixated on her memory of the wails of the damned, how her team succumbed to their torment, writhing and holding onto their helmets as Keyla reprogramed their EV suits. She felt it too, but those feelings had already become routine, something she pushed through every day in the pilot's chair and every evening alone in her room, staring blankly into the eternal night.

What happened in the nursery stuck with her; the feelings were swirling in her brain. Some part of her felt nostalgic for a past that she hadn’t ever experienced. She longed for some spark of recognition for those feelings, like Captain had. Longed for some memory to connect to.

“Oh, Detmer.” Captain Burnham's voice rang in her ears. The concern on her face; the pain in her own eyes. The look of something close to pity that had made Keyla turn away in shame when she realized all their eyes were on her.

She pressed the console to the right of the door, then waited. A moment passed and Keyla almost fled, as what she was doing finally caught up with her. The door beeped and she realized it was too late because the doors were already opening to reveal a slightly sleepy looking Joann Owosekun.

“Hi,” Keyla breathed, taking in the sight of Joann in a faded Starfleet Academy hoodie that Keyla was pretty Joann stole from her months ago. Her hair was let down from her customary tied-back style, the long twists framing her face. She looked surprised at Keyla’s arrival.

After one look at Keyla, Joann wrapped her in a warm hug. Keyla’s knees almost buckled in relief, leaning into the shorter woman for support. She didn’t realize how much she wanted to see her. She had even stayed at the bar in hopes that Joann would show up after her shift on the bridge.

“You better come in then,” Joann whispered, then pulled her into her room and sat her onto her bed.

At that point, Keyla realized tears were prickling at her eyes. She threw herself back onto the bed and rubbed at her face. You are not allowed to cry, she told herself, you already cried once in front of both of the captains, you’ve reached your quota. Despite this, a tear trickled out of her cybernetic eye onto the woven blanket that covered the bed. Her tear ducts still worked, despite everything. Figures.

She breathed in the familiar smell that she could never quite identify but she knew as to be Owo , and felt a bit better. She opened her eyes again as she felt the bed dip, and found her friend's arm around her shoulder, sitting her up and pushing a warm mug into her shaky hands.

“Drink up,” Joann’s soft voice commanded her, and Keyla obeyed the order, taking a sip of the fragrant tea that was almost hot enough to burn her tongue, but not quite. “It’s sleepytime tea, an old Earth recipe.”

Keyla sniffled, then leaned into Joann’s body, taking in her warmth. Joann supported her, allowing Keyla to relax.

“Long day?” Joann asked, as if she hadn’t already been briefed on the mission. By now, Keyla was sure the entire ship had heard. Some even stared at her across the bar, wondering what she had experienced on the away mission. She couldn’t blame them, if she hadn’t been there, she would’ve been desperate for any information that would provide any hope for their mission.

Keyla laughed. “You could say that.” She took another sip, enjoying the warm chamomile taste and the freshness of what she thought might be mint. “What’d we do to have the weight of the galaxy constantly be on our shoulders?”

“Fly good?”

“Oh so that’s already made its rounds?” Keyla laughed, “Poor Adira.”

“I heard it from Nilsson at dinner,” Joann explained with a smile. “Apparently Adira thinks you’re very cool. It was nice to have something to laugh about, today. Everyone was on edge while you were gone.”

“The crew isn’t good at sitting around twiddling their thumbs,” Keyla pointed out. “Not a particularly patient group.”

She managed a half smile, enjoying their comfortable conversation as they danced around why Keyla had shown up at Joann’s door with shaking hands and a distant look in her eyes.

“Hey, I can be patient!” Joann said. “It was Rhys who was bouncing off the walls. That boy had enough pent up stress he could have powered the warp core. Though, admittedly, it was hard to relax with the delegates taking up residence in the lounge.”

“You didn’t replace me with Ambassador T'Rina as your best friend?” Keyla quipped, “She seems fun.”

She bumped her shoulder with Keyla’s, teasingly, careful not to spill her tea. Best friends, Keyla said, mentally scoffing. What a way to put whatever they had together.

“No I think Saru has that covered,” Joann replied, “Wouldn’t want to step on his toes… er- hooves.”

Keyla managed a snort.

Joann then tilted her head as she said: “I heard you did more than fly today?”

Ah, there it was. Joann stopped dancing around the issue.

“Yeah,” Keyla breathed. “We found something… this dust. It was getting into our EV suits, so I had to reprogram them on the fly.”

“That’s my girl,” Joann smiled and even Keyla’s lips twitched into a slight grin at the pride in her voice.

“The Captain thinks it’s the context we need to communicate with the 10C.”

“That’s good. Is it not?”

Keyla nodded, but it was hard to feel good. Ni’Var was in danger. So was Earth. The only somewhat familiar place in this unfamiliar century might be already destroyed and they wouldn’t even know. Billions could be lost. The weight of that seemed to be pressing on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She had fought it to save the others down on the planet. She locked her fear away, relying on the months of PTSD therapy, but it was finally starting to overwhelm her now.

Put it in a box, Detmer, she scolded herself.

Her hand rose involuntarily to her head, touching her implant as the phantom pain of her injury filled her consciousness, as it was wont to do whenever she was stressed. She closed her eyes at the pain. She could feel Joann’s eyes on her but knew if she opened her own eyes, she’d crumble.

And to make matters worse, the screaming returned, but worse this time. Without the focus and adrenaline of the mission keeping her in line, the dam broke and the memories flooded in. The alien voices rose in pitch and volume. Her own screams joined the fray as the memory of crashing Discovery into the planet blended together into one cacophony overwhelming her senses.

“Detmer, come back to me.” Joann’s voice broke through, reminding Keyla that she was no longer on the planet.

“I’m okay,” Keyla managed, but she was sure that it wasn’t convincing. She had to get it together.

Five things you can see, Keyla recited in her mind, attempting to quell the rising panic before it became a full-blown episode.  One, the mug of tea in her hand. Two, the steam rising from it. Her eyes darted around, the visual information from eye and implant coming in and out of focus as she struggled to process the input. Three.. Owosekun’s quarters. The room is neat, clean, without the mess Keyla used to bring to their shared room. Some memories from home sit on the shelf, objects Joann explained to her back in the early days of the assignment, before they were navigating an unfamiliar time and the space beyond the Galactic Barrier. Four… four. What else? Space, outside. The eternal darkness that hadn’t been seen by human eyes before. Keyla forced herself to focus her eyes on the woman next to her instead. Five: Joann.

Keyla took a deep breath. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

Joann didn’t seem to believe her. Keyla doesn’t blame her. She probably looked like a mess.

Okay Detmer, you can do this, Keyla thought. Focus. Four things you can feel. The deck under her feet, the weight of a blanket being placed on her shoulders, the warmth of her tea, Joann’s hand resting lightly on Keyla’s thigh, Joann.

Three things you can hear: the thrum of the warp core deep inside the ship (a feeling that she, like many pilots, could always sense, noting changes before many an engineer), her own heartbeat thudding loudly in her chest, and Joann’s slow breath beside her.

Two things you can smell: the tea, Joann’s perfume.

One thing you can taste. Keyla took another sip of the tea. Camomile.

“Emotions. The hydrocarbons,” Keyla forced out in explanation. “They used them to communicate somehow. Dr. Culber, Captains Saru and Burnham… they all reacted strongly to the first emotion we encountered. Fear. Torment. Pain. Remnants of the mass extinction that the 10C faced.”

She finally looked over at Joann, whose wide brown eyes looked over at her with concern. Keyla leaned into her, resting her head onto Joann’s shoulders as she braced for what came next.

“I could deal with that,” Keyla whispered. “I know how to deal with that.”

For a long time, she didn’t. As the queen of putting things in boxes, Keyla knew only how to push everything down, power through it. Flying, working out, studying, drinking, anything to simply forget for a moment. She knows better now… or at least was trying to.

Fear used to be a weakness, to Keyla. You couldn’t be afraid as a pilot, not when you’re being spun in the g-force simulator, nor when racing through the Sol system as a cadet, and especially not when you’re going where no one had gone before. But she was finding the strength to admit to her fear, first to Joann, then in therapy to Dr. Culber. Eventually, she hoped to find strength in it.

“I know you do,” Joann finally spoke. “I wish you didn’t know such pain.”

For a moment, she just relaxed into Joann’s arms, before collecting herself.

“I could deal with that,” Keyla repeated. “But the nursery-”

Her voice broke.

“The feeling of safety. Full unadulterated love. I just had never felt that before, not in the way Captain Burnham spoke about. With her parents.”

Joann took the still-full mug and set it onto her side table, and pulled Keyla into her again, enveloping her in a hug that sent a rush through Keyla’s nerves.

The last time she had felt this sort of bone-crushing hug had been after the relief of discovering that Joann had survived sabotaging the nacelles to retake the ship from Osyraa. Oxygen-deprived and terrified, they had held onto each other. Keyla wanted to kiss her then, too, to celebrate the fact that Joann had saved them all but there was no time. There is never time.

She hadn’t felt it then, not really. She hadn’t had room for any emotion besides relief that combated the terror that filled her consciousness.

This feeling was new to her. Safety. Security. Love.

“It felt good. Warm. It was nothing familiar to me. Maybe I had felt it before… but I don’t remember. With my mom…”

She shook her head.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Keyla whispered.

Joann nodded. She understood.

It had taken years before she told Joann about her childhood and even then, she hadn’t gone past the basics. Dead mom. Her dad. Flying away from her home way too young. Starfleet. Joann, in turn, had spoken of the collective, of the heartbreaking moment of her friend dying, of leaving the only world she had ever known. Most of this information had been exchanged in whispers, late at night, between wars and phaser fire and mutiny and devastating loss.

When they had made the decision to leave their lives behind and follow the Red Angel into the 32nd century, they knew that they were leaving everything behind, and everyone. Both women had very little to leave behind. Not much to go back to, if they had made the decision to stay in their own time. They had their friendships and loyalty to the crew and a love for their Captain who they would follow into the future.

They followed each other into the future, too. Keyla often wondered what she would have done if Joann had stayed on the Enterprise with the rest of the crew, if it would have changed her destiny. She also wondered if it would have changed Joann’s mind, if Keyla had stayed.

Her past wasn’t something Keyla often spoke of in the light of day, especially now that it was literally over nine hundred years ago and everyone she ever knew, or cared about, thought she died in the war.

Bragging, that she could do. Jokes, even better. She was only starting to be able to talk about her recent traumas in therapy, and while she could sense that Dr. Culber wanted her to go deeper, talk more about the roots of these thoughts and feelings, Keyla had held back. Until today, when she blurted it out in front of them all. She knew she was building up to this, the sharing your feelings thing. After breaking down, publicly, at the dinner party that Saru had arranged, Keyla’s feelings had suddenly left her inner world and became a conversation topic amongst the senior staff. People were suddenly aware that she wasn’t okay, and weirdly enough, it was fine. She expected whispers and stares, but got hugs and movie nights instead. She wasn’t in it alone. Not anymore.

Keyla Detmer wasn’t alone then, or down on the planet. She wasn’t even alone when she had planned to be at the bar, when Adira had joined her. And Keyla wasn’t alone in this moment, wrapped in her best friend’s embrace.

Keyla’s face was buried in Joann’s shoulder, her friend's strong arms holding her tight as Keyla clung to her. There it was. The feeling again. The buzzing in her brain that told her she was safe, that she was loved.

“I didn’t want to leave,” Keyla whispered. The orange glow of the dead planet filled her vision as she pressed her eyes closed. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Then stay.”

The meaning had shifted slightly. Keyla realized she was asking to stay here, in Joann’s bed, and that Joann had given her permission.

Keyla opened her eyes and found herself nose to nose with her crewmate, former roommate and best friend. Blue eyes sought brown. The intensity of Joann’s gaze scared her, but she couldn’t look away.

“I feel it still,” Keyla admitted. “The warmth.”

“I’d hope so,” Joann replies. “ This is your home. Here on Discovery. Not an abandoned alien nursery.”

“Home,” Keyla repeated. It sounded strange on her tongue. The only place she had reliably called home was their shared quarters - a habit she had picked up from Joann.

That feeling returned in full force. The peace. The overwhelming warmth and affection that bloomed in her chest, spreading warmth and causing a large grin to spread across her face. She felt safe.. Secure… No!

The planet. It hadn’t left her system after all.

No… She couldn’t do this. Not now. She was compromised. It was messing with her. The emotions that swirled around in her brain, they weren’t hers, not really. She couldn’t do this to Joann, couldn’t draw her in when these feelings — this hope — wasn’t hers.

She pulled away from Joann’s embrace, shrugging the blanket off of her shoulders, rubbing her face roughly with her hands and curling into herself.

“I can’t-” she breathed. “There’s something wrong. I- I-”

“Keyla…” Joann reached out to touch her but Keyla flinched back.

“I need to go to Sickbay,” Keyla said, her voice rising in volume with her panic, “There’s something wrong.”

“Stop, Keyla!” Joann said, sitting on the edge of her bed, her voice as calm and steady as always, “You were cleared. You’re fine.”

Keyla stood up. “These feelings, they’re not mine. They can’t be mine, I don’t know how to feel this way .”

As Keyla tried to flee out the door, Joann stood up, then stepped in front of her, halting her in her path. Keyla turned and began to pace, wringing her hands as she worked herself up into a panic.

Joann brought up her Tricorder and stood her ground. She began to scan her. Keyla froze in place, stunned as the Ops officer looked at her with the same expression as she’d have as their ship encountered an unknown spatial anomaly. Joann scrutinized her with eyes that understood the very workings of the known universe and the tactical skills of one of the most talented ops officers of their time. Keyla submitted to the scan.

“Your heart rate is elevated,” Joann explained, looking at the display of Keyla’s vitals on the holographic projection, “But that’s expected.”

Keyla nodded, her gesture jerky.

“You are also slightly under the influence of synthehol,” Joann continued, calmly, gesturing to a graph that depicted possible contaminants in Keyla’s blood.

Keyla flushed and stuttered.

“There’s no trace of the hydrocarbons,” Joann concluded. “It’s not detecting alien influence on your brain, nor any abnormal readings. Now, I’m not a doctor but if I was, I’d diagnose you with stress and exhaustion.”

Joann gestured to the information in front of her, letting Keyla see for herself.

“Keyla, you are okay. You just need some sleep. And maybe some water.”

Her shaking hands tapped at the screen, bringing up the details, staring it down as if she expected it to tell her something different.

“Anyway, Zora is always tracking our lifesigns,” Joann said with a soft smile. “She’d tell us if there was something to worry about.”

Keyla almost expected Zora to say something, but the ship was silent except for the hum of the warp core and the comforting vibrations under her feet.

“Then why do I feel this way?”

“How do you feel?”

“Safe,” she said. “I felt safe with you. But it’s the same as I felt when the hydrocarbons got through the EV suit. It has to be the 10C I need to tell the Captain.”

Joann took the Tricorder back then set the device down and said: “I feel safe with you too. And I wasn’t exposed to any hydrocarbons. All of you went through a full decontamination after you returned to the ship.”

Keyla thought for a moment, finally considering the situation.

“You weren’t,” Keyla admitted.

“Now, we can go to Sickbay if you want. They can scan you again and confirm that you are, in fact, okay. Or, you could stay and get a good night’s sleep.”

Keyla took stock of herself. It wasn’t the 10C after all. It was the feeling, for real this time. As she stood, gasping as the emotions rushed through her, her brain struggled for a frame of reference, for context, but found none. She hadn’t felt that way before. Safe. Loved. Peaceful.

But she was wrong. The dust was not to blame. This was the context, this was the frame of reference: Joann Owosekun.

“Stay,” Joann said. “Please.”

Keyla nodded then surged forward, hugging her friend with all of her might. Joann’s right hand tangled in her hair as her left held the small of Keyla’s back, pressing their bodies together. A fluttering in Keyla’s stomach reminded her of her feelings for Joann. Stay, stay, stay , Joann’s words echoed in her mind.

“Can I?” Keyla whispered, fearful that the offer could be revoked at any moment.

“Always,” came Joann’s response.

Then, they pulled apart slightly, Joann was holding onto Keyla’s head and looking into her eyes, their foreheads touching. They stood there for a moment, relishing the embrace. Their lips were close, but not touching. Neither woman made the move to.

They were at a stalemate, frozen in place. Keyla knew Joann wouldn’t take this any further, wary of spooking Keyla as she was already in such a state.

Instead of closing the distance between them, Keyla pulled at the blue hoodie and asked: “is this mine?”

Joann laughed, then tilted her head.

“You left it when you moved out. Fair game.”

“I didn’t move out,” Keyla defended herself. “I was reassigned. Against my will.”

“Against your will?” Joann asked. “We were promoted!”

“Yeah and now I’m on the port side of the ship. A decidedly worse side of the ship.” Keyla whined. “I lost my roommate and my sweater, not a fair trade for a slightly bigger window and a larger bed. So much for heroically recapturing the ship - never doing that again.”

Joann laughed then pulled back. “You’re welcome here — on the better side of the ship — any time, you know that? Even when you’re not so exhausted that I wouldn’t trust you to walk back to your own room without a personal transporter’s assistance.”

Keyla nodded, too stunned for words, which was rare for the cocky pilot.

“Now, let’s get you to bed,” Joann said, guiding Keyla gently to the edge of her bed. Keyla complied, kicking her boots off and tugging at her collar absentmindedly, eyes locked on Joann. She didn’t notice that she was struggling to undo her collar until Joann sat down next to her, moved Keyla’s hands away, and unzipped her uniform for her, helping Keyla to take off her jacket and revealing her undershirt. She pulled out a pair of sleep pants out of her drawer and tossed them to Keyla before tugging off the hoodie that Keyla was starting to think looked better on Joann, anyway.

Before she knew it, she was under Joann’s heavy blankets, curled up on her side with Joann next to her. The proximity was shocking and instead of exhaustion that she should have been feeling, an electricity flowed through her nerves.

Safe. Welcome. Joann.

Joann rolled over, facing her like she had a moment before. She gently brushed some of Keyla's red hair out of her face, the touch sending shivers through Keyla's entire body.

“You okay?” Joann asked her, again.

This time, Keyla wasn’t lying when she said: “yeah I am.”

———

Keyla woke before dawn — or at least the equivalent experience on a starship which would slowly increase the lighting to simulate a sunrise — feeling at peace. She found Joann’s arm tossed casually over her own body, with her face pressed into Keyla’s back. The soft sound of her breathing lulled Keyla back to sleep.