Double Vision

original story by C Petterson and S Sizemore
rewritten by Cheryl Petterson
(Standard Year 2247)

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PART FOUR

Jeremy and Loki raced each other to get to the Trickster first. “Mine!” Jeremy called tauntingly to Loki, who shouted back, “We’ll see, you snake!”

Sulu was moving out of the cockpit, landing on the deck without wavering. His eyes gazed over the crowd and Jeremy grinned furiously, his relief making it almost feral. Kam, I’m gonna give you a ride equal to Trickster’s! he thought savagely. And baby, do you ever need it!

He took a flask of anti-rad from the refrigeration case, handing it to Sulu as he pushed through to his side. Loki shoved him aside, as ready to match Trickster as he was. Both is fine by me, he thought hungrily. Whatever you need, babe, anything you need.

To his infinite surprise, Sulu didn’t grab him. Or Loki. Or anyone else. With speed befitting his race, he downed the jet he’d had hours ago at Black Crescent.

“What the – ?” Loki exclaimed and Sulu slowly began to sink to the deck.

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Ruth screamed Sulu’s name. It went unheard in the clamor of wild, raucous cheering. She pulled away from Del’s arms, racing to the bay along with most of the crowd. The viewer had switched to visual when the Trickster had come in for her landing, and everyone saw the point, as perfect as any ever seen. She let the tears flow down her cheeks as she pushed through the people, sobbing joyously.

The bay door opened and she could see Sulu leaping from the needle. Scarlet fire came glowing from his being – and raw need and desolate agony. She screamed his name again, this time in anguish, and rushed toward him. He drank the anti-rad and she thanked every deity she could think of – then stared in grieving despair as he downed something taken from his sash. Jet, on top of venus and that madman’s run? Roy, Roy!

He was sinking, falling effortlessly, gracefully, almost impossibly slowly to the deck. She pulled Loki out of her way, reaching for him, dropping to her knees as Jeremy caught his unconscious form. She pulled his head to her breasts, cradling him, her tears falling on his face, the fire that was dying in him searing her. She wept, rocking him, ignoring Jeremy’s soft, agonized, “What in god’s name is wrong with him?”

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Del battled the possessiveness that thundered in him as Ruth enfolded Sulu in her arms. The man was hurting as badly as she; Del could feel it although he didn’t know why. It had always been that way – and he didn’t know why that was, either. The venus pulled at him, but he forced himself to kneel beside her, to speak softly and not pull her away from the fallen king.

“What he take?” he rasped.

Tear-filled eyes looked at him. “Jet,” she whispered.

“We get him a room somewhere,” he said. “We not leave him fo’ th' wolves.”

She nodded, then her features hardened. Del glanced over his shoulder. Gage wasn’t smiling, but there was something in his manner…

“What absurd figure did I give you, Spike?” the Haven asked dryly.

"A quarter up,” she snapped victoriously. “And absurd or not…”

“I don’t welsh on my wagers,” Gage broke in. “He won it, I’ll live with it.” He paused, and a faint smile touched his lips. “And so will he.”

“Set him up planetside,” Ruth said. “He’s going to be out for a while.”

“Done. The rest in credit or investment?”

“Give him ten percent off the top,” she snarled pleasantly. “Let the Monolems handle the rest.”

Gage nodded. “And done again. A pleasure dealing, as always, Spike.” He tapped Loki on the shoulder, and the two Havens walked away from the still murmuring crowd - but Del noted that Loki looked back more than once.

“Come wit' me, babe,” Del murmured. “We got our own room t' get back to.”

Ruth shivered in his arms, and he fought back the rush of hunger. Jeremy helped him carry Sulu to the transporter.

OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO

The darkness was full and sweet, weighing him down into a fog that carried no feelings. It wasn’t emptiness, he couldn’t’ve born that. It was numb, insensate. He was floating suspended, timeless and dreamless. Healing.

Sudden flashes of red disturbed him. They seared his closed eyes and sent threatening threads of emotion down into his being. He tried to relax, to drift, to let them pass him without touching. Yet one by one they made contact, pulling him up out of the darkness, back to light and sensation. He was too weak to fight it, too weak to do more than acknowledge the dull pain, and his eyelids fluttered open.

A room. A bed. Some hotel. Cool sheets, uncomfortable, sticking clothes. He lifted his head, saw a nightstand with two dark capsules and a taped message. He pulled himself over to it, grasping it, pushing it into the bedside reader.

Ruth’s face appeared on the small screen. "I left you more jet. I thought you’d want it. The room is paid for, courtesy of Gage’s debt to LeRoi. When I come down, I’ll come see you. It’s going to be all right, Roy. Please take care of yourself.”

Sulu was too exhausted to reflect on her words. He struggled out of his clothes, swallowed one dark capsule, and quietly begged oblivion to return.

OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO

Uniforms sometimes come in very handy, Jeremy reflected as he again used his red shirt to gain access to a hotel room. Of course, not every lowly Security lieutenant could use his position to such advantage, but he knew how to bluff and could look surprisingly menacing when he had to. And since Sulu wouldn’t answer his calls…

He didn’t bother to knock. If Sulu was there, he probably wouldn’t’ve let him in; and if he wasn’t, there would be no one to offend. Jeremy hadn’t counted on his still being in bed. The jet should’ve worn off long ago. He stared at the unmoving figure for long moments, then sighed and walked over to him. He pulled up the sheet, then sat gently down on the edge of the bed.

Unobtrusively, even though there was no one to see, Jeremy palmed the medical scanner he had in his belt and ran it over the prone body. He scowled in annoyance. There was much more than one hit of jet in Sulu’s system. There wasn’t any real cause for alarm. The readings weren’t indicative of any particular danger, and the interaction with the venus he’d taken earlier wasn’t having any undue effects, but he wasn’t thrilled with the results nonetheless. Dr. Paget quickly put away the evidence of his other profession. No one but very highly placed officials in Starfleet – and very close friends – knew he actually had a medical degree. His specialty was aberrant psychology, an interest he had acquired during his years at the Clave for reasons he discussed with no one. He had no regular practice with the exception of his roommate and the man he was sitting with, although Sulu didn’t really realize he was a patient. All Sulu knew was that Jeremy usually had answers to his problems, as unorthodox as those answers sometimes were. Jeremy hoped he had some now. If he could get Sulu to tell him what was wrong.

He reached out, carefully stroking the silky black hair, letting his hand come to rest on the bronze shoulder. It had been too long since they’d seen each other, nearly a year. It was to be expected, Fleet life being what it was, and Jeremy had gotten used to it, after a fashion. Growing up with Sulu had made that adjustment a little harder. He hadn’t known a time when Sulu wasn’t around.

As he hadn’t known a time when he hadn’t loved him, though Sulu didn’t return the depth of that feeling. Jeremy had known that for years and so kept his emotions to himself. But there was love between them. They were best friends, almost brothers, and lovers when circumstances allowed. He had hoped circumstances would allow this time. That they hadn’t, and Sulu wouldn’t explain why not, was what had him worried enough to play doctor.

He let his hand linger on the warmth of Sulu’s skin, then shook romantic longing away, along with Sulu’s shoulder.

“Wake up, babe,” he said. There was no reaction. Jeremy shook a little harder. “Come on, Kam, climb out of it.” Sulu groaned. Jeremy grasped both shoulders, turning him over onto his back. “Wake up, Sulu!”

The dark almonds cracked open, then closed again. “I don’t want to,” Sulu said very slowly and from between clenched teeth.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to,” Sulu repeated angrily.

“Sulu…”

“Go away!”

“Talk to me and I will.”

Sulu tried to sit up and push Jeremy away. He failed miserably and fell back to the bed. “Leave me alone,” he muttered.

“I want to help,” Jeremy said, carefully sweeping the fall of hair from Sulu’s eyes. Sulu shuddered and reached up to bat the hand away.

“There’s no help for it,” he growled. “Go away.”

Jeremy turned, ignoring the sting of the rejection. He removed a hypospray from his belt, hiding it from Sulu’s view. “No help for what, Kam?” he asked.

Will you stop that!?” Sulu blazed, finding the coordination to sit up. “I’m not ‘Kam’, I haven’t…!” His words were cut off by Jeremy’s swift wielding of the hypo.

“Mild stimulant,” Jeremy explained. “It’ll keep you from blacking out on me.”

“Damn you…!” Sulu growled, turning from Jeremy’s gaze. “Why won’t you leave me the fuck alone? Didn’t it ever occur to you that I might want to black out?!”

“Obviously,” Jeremy replied. “But you can’t tell me why if…”

“Why, WHY WHY! Don’t you know any other word?!?”

“Babe, I…”

“And don’t ‘babe’ me!”

Jer bit his tongue. “Sulu, you’re hurting. All I want to do is…”

“There is no damn…"

“Convince me and I’ll leave.”

“Damn you… damn it all…” The words were choked, Sulu’s body stiffening. Jeremy swallowed the nearly empathic pain and reached out to massage and caress the tense muscles.

Sulu flinched. “God, don’t touch me!” he hissed.

Jeremy moved his hands as though they’d been burned. “Sulu…?” he asked with helpless confusion.

“It’s hopeless, just hopeless and I’m a damned fool,” Sulu rasped.

Worry and frustration got the better of him, and Jeremy grabbed Sulu’s shoulders, turning the anguished face toward him. “Tell me!” he half-demanded, half begged. Sulu’s eyes met his, sheer misery reflected in ebony pools of despair.

Jilla!” he nearly screamed, and dropped from Jeremy’s grasp back onto the bed. “It’s Jilla,” was repeated in a whisper.

Jeremy’s heart froze. Jilla. Jilla Majiir, the Indiian widow whose name had filled Sulu’s tapes for months. The last one had been full of hope and anxious joy, and though it had stung with the old loneliness, Jeremy had been happy for him. What could have happened in such a short time to produce this? He forced the jealousy away and carefully placed his hand on Sulu’s. “What happened, babe?” he asked gently.

“Nothing,” Sulu replied, then gave a short, bitter laugh. “Nothing happened, like always. Nothing ever happens and nothing ever will happen and I love her and I can’t stop and I can’t have her and nothing else works!” Sulu’s voice had increased in volume and he pounded his fist once into the mattress.

Jer found himself pulling the shaking body into his arms. The jet, the venus, the suicide run… nothing else works. Now it all made sense. He’d been trying to burn out the pain and the despair, desperate for something, anything that would stop the lost, lonely anguish. And nothing worked… which explained why there was more than one hit of jet in his system.

But there was still one thing Sulu hadn’t tried, the one thing that had worked without fail ever since they’d both been teenagers. It had worked whenever Sulu held things within him that he couldn’t express, when he was filled with stresses he couldn’t handle. Jeremy could coax the release from him, could give him with the experience and acceptance of perfect, selfless love the push Sulu needed to rid himself of his inner devils. Unorthodox therapy, even before Jeremy had had psychological training.

Ignoring the previous rejection, ignoring any pain or despair within his own being, Jeremy bent his head and softly kissed Sulu’s throat. It was not the jesting supplication of Cobra to LeRoi, but a loving offer full of tender promise.

“Let me help,” he whispered. Sulu’s answer was defeated.

“It won’t work.”

“Let me try.”

“I don’t want…”

“At least let me ease the physical, Sulu.”

With abrupt coldness, Sulu pulled away. “Are you deaf?” he snapped. “I said I don’t want it!”

The helpless pain welled in Jeremy’s soul. “What do you want from me?!” he cried. “I’m trying to help you, don’t you know that?!”

“And I told you you can’t!” Sulu hissed back. “Nothing can! Let me go, damn you, just let me go!” His hands covered his face.

Jeremy swallowed hard, fighting the tears. Let you go. Yeah. We aren’t kids anymore, are we? Someone who loves you just ain’t enough now. You need someone you can love. Let you go. I will, Sulu. But will you ever let me?

When he looked up, Sulu was gazing wearily at him. “Jer,” he said softly, with a sadness that tore at Jeremy’s heart, “please, just leave me alone.”

Jer nodded once. “Sure, babe. Call before you leave port? Just so I know you’re okay?”

With a relenting sigh, Sulu nodded, then lay back down, eyes closing, one arm coming up over them.

Jeremy watched for only a moment, then quietly padded across the room. He didn’t look back as he reached the door. He simply moved through it, closing it silently behind him.

To hear the song from the incorportated vignette,
formerly titled Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad, click here

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Ruth opened her eyes and realized with a pleasant relief that she’d fallen asleep. It wouldn’t be pleasant in another hour or so, but she’d deal with that then. She raised her head, letting her arms come around Del’s shoulders, kissing the thick, dark hair. He stirred, cracking his eyes open and smiled at her before again nestling at her breasts. Three days, she thought dreamily, three glorious, soaring, sating days. Was there a hunger Del hadn’t filled, a need he hadn’t sent far away? I love you, she thought at him.

Je t'aime, came lazily back at her and she giggled softly.

You think in French, she answered his unspoken question.

Patois, came the immediate correction.

If only it could last, a day longer, a week – forever? No. We both know that, don’t we? What he have is only good in small doses. It starts out wonderful and fulfilling and warm – and grows hot and frightening and destructive so quickly… Well, at least we both know it now. We don’t run away from each other hurt and confused and aching like we used to. Was it really only three years ago? Have I grown that much so fast?

We grown, babe, came the wistful response.

I guess so. Grown. She sighed. And speaking of, Lieutenant Valley, it’s time you went back and faced it.

No, not just yet, she interrupted herself. Once more, without venus.

She rolled over, pushing Del onto his back arousing him with kisses that began at his throat and moved slowly, sensuously down. His fingers gently brushed her temples, and they deliberately lost themselves in each others’ minds.

OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO

She was gone. He’d known she would be. It was simple arrangement, agreed upon after the first leave he’d spent with her after receiving his commission. They matched fingers, odds or evens, to decide who’d be noble, and she’d won. Or lost, depending on how you looked at it. It was harder to leave than to wake alone, or, at least, it was for him. To walk away from a golden, sleeping angel, to know there might never again be the sweet, life-giving release… He’d lost before, and managed, but this time, with the after-venus depression… He could not have done it.

You rig th' game, babe? he thought. It be like you.

Del got up, stretching tired limbs and aching muscles. At least he was worn out, he could spend the rest of his leave in his cabin asleep, recovering. Much better than having to go on duty in the crash. Plus he had the knowledge that he’d helped her to warm him. He’d been there when she’d needed him. In return, she’d given him ninety-six hours he’d never forget – to add to the thousands of others. He found himself staring at the door.

Farewell, babe. Until nex’ time, know I love you.

He got dressed, noticing the deep scratches on his chest were gone. He smiled, then left the room to its wild, magical memories.

OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO

Sulu wasn’t sure it had been real until he came fully awake and saw the credits. A faint, sour smile crossed his features – the first in four days, mister, he chided himself. He was worth a quarter up, was he? A man could get arrogant. No, there’s always Jilla to take care of that. Nice thought, that. Hell, I’m depressed. Venus and jet will do that.

He got up slowly, groaning. Ruth had come as her message had promised. She’d dropped a huge number of credit vouchers on the bed next to him and explained about Gage’s expensive flirtation with over-confidence. She’d asked if he was all right, noted that the jet was gone, complained about venus depression, and left him before, she said, she started crying all over him.

He considered trying to find her, then realized that if she’d wanted his company, she would’ve stayed. He took a long, cold shower, then dressed, gathered the credits and his ravenous depression and left the room for every noisy Fleet hangout and shop on Naois.

It didn’t help, but it kept him busy and away from calls from Gage and Loki.

OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO

Ruth changed back into a blue lieutenant’s uniform before returning to the ship. So as not to shock poor Scotty, she told herself ironically. She carried her folded clothing over har arm, the pouch and copper shoes casually dangling from her hand.

Scotty told her that she was the second-to-last to beam up. She managed to express humorous surprise through the fading depression. “What? That’s breaking tradition. Bwana will be so upset.” Scott grinned at her. “So who’s left?”

“Sulu,” was Scotty’s meaningful response.

That figures. She started to say so when the com signaled for beam-up. Scotty confirmed it, and activated the controls. Seconds later, sparkle dissolved into Sulu’s shape and he stepped down from the platform. He, too, was back in uniform. “You look respectable,” she snorted at him.

He gave her a half-sour smile as he looked her over. “I’m not the only one,” he returned.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I’ll live.”

“Me too.” After a couple of seconds of silence, she laughed. “Maudlin pair, aren’t we?”

“With reason,” he rejoined, then took a deep breath. “And if I had any way out of it…” The sentence trailed off into a bitter regret that was only half-joking. Ruth knew the feeling. It had pulled at her before, and now, with Sulu’s added depression – and what have you got in your pocketses? she taunted herself.

“I do,” she said, and tried not to look at Scotty as she retrieved the shimmering red capsule. Sulu stared at it, then at her, a pleading coming into his eyes that was almost too painful to look at.

“Lass,” Scott’s voice said in a quiet rasp, “is that what I think it is?”

“Oh yes,” she breathed in answer, without taking her eyes from Sulu’s. She felt Scotty’s gaze shifting between them.

“I haven’t seen it if you get rid of it right now,” he said.

“Never again?” she said to Sulu. His eyes closed and he moved silently to the door.

“Just do it,” he whispered hoarsely, and went out into the corridor. Her own eyes closed as she crossed to the ejection port. She opened it, dropped the capsule in, and closed it.

“Never again,” she said, and pressed the button that released it into the void of space.

“Good girl,” Scotty murmured, and she smiled, kissed his surprised cheek, and strode out of the transporter room.

OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO+++++OOOOO

“Bitch,” Sulu muttered. She fell in step with him.

“Lunatic,” she replied. He nodded agreeably. “Back to work?” she asked.

“After a few good murders in the gym,” he said.

“I think I’ll join you.”

He paused, eyeing her suspiciously, and she blinded him with a mind-your-own-business smile. “Thanks for Del,” she said when they resumed walking.

“Thanks for the jet,” he answered. They stepped into the turbolift.

Joining Spock and Jilla.

“Good afternoon, Miss Valley, Mr. Sulu,” Spock said. “I trust you enjoyed your leave.”

“Sure did, Boss,” Ruth replied airily. “Hi, Jilla.”

“Good afternoon, Ruth,” Jilla returned. Her voice softened before she added, with a slight, blushing shimmer, “Sulu.”

Ruth saw the biting down Sulu did on his tongue. He nodded to Jilla, managing a quiet articulation of her name, then said, “Afternoon, sir” to Spock.

“Where are you going?” Spock asked politely.

“The gym,” Ruth answered. “Want to come?”

“No, thank you, Miss Valley.” The Vulcan inclined his head at Sulu. “And you, Mr. Sulu?”

Sulu hesitated, glancing at Jilla. She drew away, her shimmer increasing. “Same place,” he said.

“Welcome back,” Jilla murmured, and Ruth sighed silently. Same place, all right. Same place.

The End

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