Pardon Me While I Have a Lil Flashback, Part 5

[Rue Wydown 0]

Pardon Me While I Have a Lil Flashback, Part 5

Commander Ruth Wydown

 

((This is just some back story about my character and her history, a peek in her head while she's knocked out cold on the bridge/sickbay. The dialogue underlined indicates words spoken in the Ralafean language - translated in English for the reader for the fun of it. ))

 

 

Clayton peeled Rue’s arms away from his neck, then helped guide her to sit next to him. “How’s your head?”

 

“Still attached.” Rue smiled wickedly. “How’s yours?”

 

“According to him,” Clay jerked his thumb at Malcolm’s retreating form, “up my arse.”

 

“I can concur with that diagnosis.”

 

“Does chaos always follow you?” Clay shook his head sadly. “What am I going to do with you?”

 

“Take me as I am.” Rue offered simply.

 

“That’s the part I’m having a wee bit of trouble with, love. I’m not sure I can.” He sighed softly, gently taking one of her hands into his, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. She knew it as compulsive gesture on his part, one he engaged in frequently when they were going to have a serious discussion. She wasn’t even sure he was aware he was doing it. It was like her hand was his personal worry stone. “You’re so…”

 

“Alien?” Rue offered.

 

“You’re not alien. You’re human.” He paused. “Unless there’s something you haven’t told me.” He tilted his head, studying her for the punch line to the joke. “You’re not part Betazoid or something?”

 

“No,” Rue laughed. “100% Grade-A Human.”

 

“Well, see then—“

 

“But I am alien too.”

 

To the people around them, this was the point when Clayton and Rue’s discussion took a turn for the weird. They continued to talk over each other and yet understood what the other was saying. It was another odd quirk that even Rue didn’t understand and nine times out of time she was rarely aware that she was even doing it. Neither did he. It also gave those trying to eavesdrop a headache if not whiplash as they tried to follow the duel of words.

 

“—you’re not---“

 

“Alien-human. I’m from another planet, Clay. Literally. Another planet. We—“

 

“—alien. Aliens to me are non-humans. Vulcans. Tellurites. Those dudes with the antennas sticking out. Non-humans. Even if you did—“

 

“—think differently than you do.”

 

“—come from another planet. It does not mean you’re an alien. So don’t say that.” Clay held up his free hand so that he could get an uninterrupted word in. “You know what bugs me? What’s really gotten under my skin. Your attitude. Do you not have any fear a’tall?” His tone reminded Rue of her mother, demanding to know if she had “no shame” after being caught skinny dipping. He scooted closer on the bench, invading the little personal space that Rue had in an effort to make her uncomfortable. Rue, being Rue and alien, merely shrugged. “What you did was…was…was reckless and stupid and terrifying and disturbing and --“

 

“Scary, worrying, hazardous and nerve-wracking.”

 

“—exactly. Terrorizing. Risky. Imperiling. And did I mention thick?”

 

“Let’s not forget mental. Smashing. Brilliant. Extraordinary. Fantastic.”

 

“Fantastic is not a word I would use.”

 

“But you have to admit it was fab.” Rue grinned.

 

“No, I don’t. It was totally and completely mental.”

 

“But if I hadn’t done it –“

 

“I’d have been killed.” Clay concluded naturally without thinking about it. After he realized what he said, he shuddered.

 

 

“And that’s what’s got you scared.” Rue punctuated her revelation with a good natured punch to his arm. One that a mate gave another mate, not like the Barbies of the past.

 

“No,” Clay scowled. Then waivered under Rue’s wicked cat-and-the-canary grin. “Yes -- yes and no. Bollocks! What’s bothering me is the fact that you’re not even fazed by it. My life flashes before me. I watch you in slow motion collapsing, unresponsive for what seems to be a lifetime, bleed over half the salt flats. And you’re like, ‘oh, it’s just another headache. Let’s just go get some ice cream!’” He pulled his hand away from hers and did a mockery of a prissy little girl. “Ruth Thouvenot, you could have died a very messy, bloody death and you’re acting like it’s no big deal. What the hell are you thinking?”

 

Rue simply grinned. “Right now? You don’t have any idea what I’m thinking.”

 

He had a good idea by the look she was giving him. “You think I’m a flaming idiot.”

 

“No I don’t.” She laughed. “Although this” -- she mimicked his prissy little girl action --“was quite entertaining.”

 

Clayton leaned in, staring her down nose to nose. “Then tell me what you’re thinking back there, you daft alien.”

 

“Clayton…” She sighed, laying a hand on his cheek only to have brushed away. She didn’t have to look down to know he’d taken that hand again in his. “I don’t think of death and dying and pain and injury and…whatnot like you do. Where I’m from it’s a part of everyday life. We’re, well, what you’d refer to as survivalists. Although to us, it’s just how we live. The planet I grew up on can be harsh, stark, violent. The word inhospitable doesn’t do it justice. The place is…totally wicked.”

 

She continued with pride about the planet. “But it’s also so, so, so beautiful.” The tone itself was conveying her heartbreak at missing it all. She paused. “But that‘s not the point. The point is, when you go grow up in that atmosphere, you develop a different sense of life and the world around you. Which for someone coming from here” -- she motioned around them generally -- “is going to sound totally alien.”

 

“Think about it. Think back to when you were a little kid. You’re in primary school. Your mother has packed your lunch and…” Rue paused when she saw Clayton pull a face. “Okay, your housekeeper packed your lunch and dropped you safely off at the front steps of school where you promptly got yourself into trouble.” She teased. “Now where I grew up, I was packed off with a lunch, an emergency anti-venom hypo, and a small phaser.”

 

“You’re kidding.” Clay flashed a boyish grin.

 

“No. No I’m not.” She moved her sleeve, showing him a faded crescent shaped scar on her forearm. “Third grade. Attacked by a versitum…a sort of snakey-like reptile. Had to beat it about the head in with my bag to make it let go. In the third grade, Clayton.” She tugged the sleeve back down. “Our parents, all of the adults on the planet, only gave you one warning about what was lurking outside our door. You didn’t listen, you didn’t pay attention, you didn’t come in once piece, let alone. And yet, they didn’t bundle their kids in bubble wrap or send them out into the world with personal force fields. It just the way we do things.”

 

Rue leaned forward again, giving his hand a squeeze. “I don’t worry about it because worrying doesn’t solve anything. Listening. Being aware of your surroundings. Doing your best not to make stupid mistakes. And dumb luck…..that’s what I live by.”

 

Clay looked down and for the first time seemed to realize he was holding her hand. Something was hitting home, but Rue wasn’t quite sure what it was. As he sighed heavily, she continued, using a finger to bring his chin up so she could see his eyes again. “I can tell you what I do fear, however.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“That someone I care about will be hurt and I didn’t do anything to stop it. That I can’t do anything to stop it.” She searched his eyes. “We…we…we take care of each other where I am from. It’s why I chose StarFleet. And I knew I could make a difference back there. If I didn’t do something, I would have never forgiven myself. But what if I couldn’t have done anything? What if I had to sit back and watch it unfold? Or that I’d freeze up and didn’t act fast enough? God that scares me to death – being unable to even try to help. I can’t just sit there, Clay. It’s not in my DNA. ” Word vomit was what she called it. This insane need to explain what was going on in her head, yet she wasn’t even sure how to explain it herself. She felt her stomach twist as she continued to ramble. “Oh bugger, I don’t know how to explain it.”

 

She watched as Clayton closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. “This is so—“

 

“Messy?”

 

“Not really the word I was looking for,” he opened his eyes.

 

“That’s what a relationship is. Messy. And scary.”

 

“That’s the word I was looking for.” Clay smirked. “Scary. You scare me sometimes.”

 

“So you’re scared.” She grinned again. “Hell, sometimes you scare me, too. But that doesn’t stop me from well, like-liking you. And I’m willing to jump that cliff if you are.”

 

“Oh yeah? So you like-like me?” Clayton’s boyish grin returned. Rue watched his ego inflate to about three sizes too big. He was giving her that look, that mischievous ‘I’ve got something planned for you’, look.

 

“Yessssss.” Rue’s voice came out as a purr. “But—“

 

“But? Why is there always a ‘but’ when it comes to girls.”

 

“Are you going to keep freaking out when something weird, unusual, painful, scary, or daft happens?”

 

Clay opened his mouth to give Rue the ‘typical’ optimistic but fraudulent answer to her question. The one that said ‘Sure everything will be just fine & dandy’, when in reality you’d just been dealt a mortal wound. Luckily, he froze when he saw her expectant look. He knew that she knew when he was bluffing.

 

“Because this is guaranteed to get messy.” She motioned between the two of them, waving between what personal space the two of them had.

 

“Truthfully?”

 

“Aye. Best to rip the band-aid off in one swipe. The truth, Wydown.”

 

“Most likely.” He shrugged a little, looking a bit deflated.

 

“Okay.” Rue roped her arms around his neck.

 

“Okay? What do you mean okay?” Clayton raised his brows in confusion, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Most of the women he’d dated would haven’t have just said ‘okay’ as if they accepted this as part of their reality. There would have been more talking, poking, prodding, analyzing feelings or at least an ultimatum thrown in there somewhere. ‘Okay’ was not a normal reaction.

 

She simply shrugged, “You have fair warning that this is going to probably be scary messy and I have fair warning that you’ll probably freak every now and then. Just so we’re clear on expectations.”

 

“Wait, you’re not mad?”

 

“No. Alien, remember?”

 

“Hmmm…I think I might have a thing for alien girls.” Clayton grinned, moving in for a kiss. There was only so long he could sit that close to her and not kiss her.

 

“You Earth boys are so easy.”