He stops. His throat works.
"Like him," he says, barely above a whisper. "At the end. You looked like him… like my father. Bone thin and scared, yet brave and fierce."
The words hang between us, and I understand now what I am hearing. He has never said this to anyone. He may never have even said it to himself.
"And I picked you up and I kept moving," he continues, his voice cracking at the edges. "The way I always keep moving. Because if I stop?—"
He doesn't finish.
"If you stop," I say gently, "you might have to feel it."
A sound escapes him. Not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. Something in between that sounds like it's been locked in his chest for years.
"You do not have to keep moving right now," I tell him. "You can stop. I am here. I am not going anywhere."
The sound that escapes Cody is short and sharp, like something cracking open that has been sealed too long. He presses his fist against his mouth, and his whole body shakes with the effort of not falling apart.
I pull him against me. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on, and I do not tell him it will be all right. I do not tell him anything. I simply hold him the way he has held me.
After a while, the shaking stops. His breathing evens. But he does not pull away, and I do not let go.
"Thank you," he says finally. His voice is hoarse, but steadier. "You make it easy to talk about hard things."
"I only return what you've already given me."
A silence settles between us, soft-edged and still. Below, the distant sounds of the hangar drift up – voices, the clank of equipment, the low thrum of engines cycling down for the night.
Cody shifts beside me. I watch as he pulls a small object from the pocket of his discarded flight suit.
"I've been waiting for the right moment for this," he says. "There probably isn't one. So."
He sets it in my palm.
I go still.
It is a val'ari. The golden hairclip is designed to look like a gho'ba in flight.
"Cody." My voice is not entirely steady. "Where did you get this?"
"L'Tarne helped me program the design and get it made in the science lab replicator." He is watching my face with the careful attention of someone who is not certain they have done the right thing. "I asked him for help in getting you a mating gift and he said that this clip is a traditional item a male would give his mate."
I close my fingers around it. I stare at it a moment, unable to speak. Instead of words, I decide to show him how I feel.
I kiss him.
Not the hungry, urgent kisses of the springs, when everything between us was brand new and overwhelming and we couldn't get close enough fast enough. Not the tender exploration of our first kiss outside my quarters, when I was still learning the shape of his mouth and the warmth of his skin against mine. This is something else entirely.
This is a kiss with his tears still damp on his lashes.
I pour into it everything I cannot say. My grief, my gratitude, the fierce and boundless love for this man that I never would have believed possible before my rescue.
Cody responds slowly. He has cracked himself open, and I can feel the vulnerability in the way his hands tremble slightly against my back.
I pull back just enough to find his eyes. They are bright and uncertain in the starlight.
"You did not save me because I reminded you of him," I say quietly. "You saved me because that is who you are. The resemblance may have driven your feet down that corridor, but everything that came after? Every book, every meal, every minute you waited outside Dr. Singh's door. That was you choosingme. Not a ghost."
His breath catches.
