Helen.
I think of her blank stare, the cold listlessness of her voice. The banked worry flares through me again and I push past Adiron. I have to see her. I have to reassure her that everything’s all right. “Where’s Helen?”
“She’s not doing well,” Adiron calls after me. “She kept trying to attack everyone if they touched you, so I had to tell her that it was safest if she waited in your quarters because she was endangering you. That got her to calm down a bit, but I still think something’s wrong.” He jogs behind me. “Don’t you want to know about the ship? The logs? The Gaze? The people we’ve picked up?”
“Later,” I tell him, walking faster. Normally I’d be all over those things, but all I can think about right now is Helen and that blank gaze of hers. Helen and her wooden voice. It was like she’d shut down everything that made her bright and cheerful, everything that made her Helen. I can’t let that happen.
She needs me. I know she does. I ache that she’s been needing me for over a day now and I was knocked out in med-bay.
“Later?” Adiron echoes. “But people need answers. Straik wants to know—”
“You handle it,” I tell him, turning down the hall toward my quarters. “I trust you.”
“You do?” Adiron sounds flabbergasted. “Are you sure?”
I pause long enough to put a hand on my brother’s shoulder. I give him a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got a brain up there, and a cool head when you need to use it. You’ve done a great job on this run, Adi. I mean that. But right now Helen needs me, and so you need to handle all this because my mate comes first.”
He nods slowly. “Just don’t make any sudden moves near her or she’ll get you in a headlock.” He rubs his neck as if remembering. “I don’t know if she recognizes anyone right now.”
That worries me. I jog up to the control panel to my quarters and slap my hand against it to activate it, stepping inside quickly. It’s dark in my quarters, and—
I’m tackled to the floor and knocked onto my stomach. A moment later, my arm is twisted behind my back and a boot shoved onto the side of my skull.
“Helen,” I grit out, my cheek squished against the floor. “S’mee.”
“Mathiras,” she says in that too-calm voice. She releases me and the boot on my head is lifted. “You are safe?”
I turn over and stay on the floor, just in case she decides to tackle me again, and I eye her. Helen still reeks of smoke and blood. The lights are off in my quarters, and I hear a slight rustle and the creak of the bed as she sits down on it again. I can’t see her expression but I suspect it’s the same blank one as before, and my heart aches. “Love, why are you sitting in the dark?”
Silence.
“I’m getting to my feet,” I murmur. “No sudden moves.”
I slowly stand up, and when there’s no reaction from the bed, I move toward the wall panel and tap it for lighting. The moment I set eyes on Helen, I ache down to my bones. She’s still covered in blood, wearing the enemy uniform. Her gaze is staring straight ahead, her hands calmly clasped in her lap.
She’s blank. Whatever happened that caused her to snap, she still hasn’t broken out of it.
Moving toward her, I sit down at her side and take her hands in mine. “Helen. Talk to me. I’m worried about you.”
Her fingers don’t twine with mine, and she doesn’t squeeze my hands in response. She might as well be a doll. She looks at me, but her gaze is unblinking, her pupils still those tiny pinpricks that tell me something is wrong. How do I snap her out of this?
I lift one of her dirty, bloodstained hands to my face. “It’s me. Your mate.”
“Mathiras,” she agrees in that same lifeless tone. “You are safe now. Objective completed.”
“That’s right,” I murmur, nuzzling her palm. “You can come back to me now. You’re safe, too.” When that doesn’t elicit a response, I decide I need a more drastic way to wake her up. I get to my feet and tug on her hand. “Come with me. We’re going to shower.”
Helen has always loved showers in the past, after all.
CHAPTER 97
MATHIRAS
Helen follows me docilely across the ship, her hand tucked safely in mine. She’s silent, showing none of the normal enthusiasm for shower-time that she normally does. That’s all right. If it takes time to wake her up from this shut-down, I’ll give her time. Whatever she needs, I want her to have it.
I step into the Little Sister’s primary lavatory and lock the door behind us. There’s a bench near the sinks and mirrors, and behind us, the showers. I start the first one, letting the recycled water heat up and steam the room, and turn to Helen. “You want me to help you undress? Or do you want to do it yourself? If you don’t want to be touched, I understand, but you need to get clean.”