Koehk'dhat. (Helen, Nero,?)

[mirror_brightly]

Hunger and sleep were strange in combination, did strange things to the mind. It was cold, but not cold enough. Too weak to shut them out, to still the fragments of thought that danced across his skull. His eyes slipped closed, drifted as his shoulder slid against the wall. The guards shuffled, moved in soft air behind the shining grey of the

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[first_noel]

The guards didn't seem happy, exactly, to see her back in the brig again. But they did perk up a bit when she appeared: the interest of people ready for a show.

"Extra batshit today," one of them offered, as he checked her access codes and let her through. "Talking to himself."

Helen raised her eyebrows and smiled politely, but said nothing. She walked down to the end of the corridor, and looked into the cell.

"Hello, Nero," she said. "I've brought you something."

She knew the rules of the game here. She'd agreed to bring his picture back, or at least try; he'd agreed to cooperate if she did so. Trying to get him to speak to her before handing it over would be counter to that agreement - and probably pointless. Telling him that she'd give it back after he spoke with her might work - but it would be blackmail. Helen was interested in building trust, not resentment.

She pulled the picture from her bag, and held it up in front of the forcefield for him to see.

[mirror_brightly]

He almost didn't look. Couldn't risk opening his eyes again, on top of themselves. But, eventually, he pulled his head from Naele's knees, tilted to see through her hair. The black parted and he stared, saw the curl of grey and gold and the worn edge of a face held a field away in hevam fingers.

His limbs went slack as he stared at her, smiling at him from something better than his memory. The best fragment.

He drew a slow breath and moved out of himself.

"Return it."

[first_noel]

She nodded her agreement. It wasn't hers to keep, even to bargain with, to try and draw a promise from him first.

"If we lower the field to return it, can we trust you not to hurt us, or try to escape?"

[mirror_brightly]

His eyes never shifted from the capture, though he was silent for several seconds. It had never left him, not through the ice of the tunnels or the crispness of time. It was too far away, too easy to harm.

It was the last real piece left.

"Yes."

[first_noel]

She nodded, hoping he would pick up on the way she took him at his word. Hoping it would mean something to him.

She turned to the guard.

"Please, lower the forcefield."

He opened his mouth, about to protest, and she held up her hand.

"If anyone questions it, I'll take full responsibility. Keep your weapons ready to stun and everything will be fine."

He still looked unhappy, but he nodded, reluctantly, and turned to the other guard.

"Keep your phaser on him, the whole time. Miss, don't get between him and the phaser."

The other guard looked doubtful, but followed orders, lifting her phaser and training it on Nero.

"Ready."

The field shimmered briefly and disappered, and Helen crouched down, placing the picture on the floor of the cell before drawing her hand back.

[mirror_brightly]

Nero watched as she stepped forward, relinquished his wife and set her down on the ground. She lingered, tested his resolve with quiet, careful regard, and stepped back. The field went up as soon as she stepped away, kicked a high whine into the air, and he gritted his teeth as it sailed past his ears.

The guards watched him, stared, and he moved forward to reclaim the capture. It fit into his hand perfectly, and he stared in silence for a long moment, relearning her face.

"What do you want to know?"

[first_noel]

She waited patiently for him to look back up at her.

"Tell me about the picture."

[mirror_brightly]

She was slow, stood hunched in the light with guards at her back. He shifted his eyes from her to them. The woman stared and shuffled away, pretenses chasing her heels even as she strained back to hear. The human puffed up, cast hard shadows against the light, as though his size made any difference. He wouldn't move so long as Nero wanted him to.

Defiant. A trait not cultured enough in humans.

"You ask poor questions," he said lowly, Naele's voice curled around his own. He understood her meaning, despite the fact that it was carried on wasteful words. "It is a double exposed holo-capture. Thermal sensor power. I've had it for forty three and a hundred years."

[first_noel]

"That's a long time," Helen said calmly, letting his stubborn literalness pass. "Why do you keep it with you? What makes it so important?"

[mirror_brightly]

Did he owe her that much? Mandana's face smiled up at him, laughed at a joke he couldn't remember.

"It's the last piece left, I need to keep it."

[first_noel]

"The last piece of what?"

[mirror_brightly]

"My wife."

Somehow, lloannsu didn't seem sufficient for it. The air curled out of him slowly and he replaced the picture to its proper place. It felt right, in his pocket, and his hand lingered on it.

[first_noel]

There hadn't been anything about a wife in any of the reports Helen had read. There had been little information about Nero himself in the press, and what she'd received from the captain here hadn't told her much more.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her face was solemn; the words were sincere. She paused, a moment of respect before continuing. "Was she on Romulus?"

[mirror_brightly]

Why hevam found silence respectful, he'd never understand. Dead air for the dead, token respect to people they'd never know. His thumb pressed against the capture.

"Yes. With my...son." It didn't matter if his jailers knew this. There was nothing in it to use.

[first_noel]

"I see," said Helen quietly.

There was nothing she could say. Nero had experienced a terrible loss - and his reaction had been to force that same loss on countless Vulcans. One man's grief had destroyed an entire world, needlessly.

The urge to avenge the loss of loved ones, the feelings of helplessness that demanded action, were not uncommon. And Helen had worked with many patients who had, unfortunately, also acted on those urges. But Nero's revenge for the loss of his planet...it was an extreme reaction to an extreme loss.

She didn't know if he could be made to feel empathy or regret for what he'd done. But she knew it was too big a problem to try to solve today.

"Are their names secret, too?" she asked gently, hoping to change the subject slightly. "Is that because..." She hesitated. Gone had been the wrong thing to say, yesterday. "Because you grieve them?"

[mirror_brightly]

"Secret?" His head tilted against the light. He watched it moved past her, she was quiet and still, waiting. She had asked a question, but it was nonsense. Childish hevam nonsense.

"I grieve them because I have their names." His arm propped on knees and he pivoted, just slightly, to face her. "A name carries honor, even in your language. There is nothing more...tallai...more close."

She was watching, listening. Good. Maybe she could learn something worthwhile.

"Real names are all the dead have. I will not waste them, spend the currency of the dead, on you."