She came around the corner of the dark cave to what she thought of as her 'quarters', and He was there. He was THERE. For a split second, her heart leapt with joy, until she discerned his hands were cuffed behind his back, and they were shackling his feet.

His eyes met hers. His chin lifted fractionally, his only reaction to sighting her.

Irrationally, she was glad he was there. She was terrified, but at least she was no longer alone.

Somehow, even manacled hand and foot, he managed to project an air of confidence. His shoulders remained square, his bearing resolute.

She could not tear her gaze from his. Terror for his safety warred with relief to see him. His eyes seemed locked on hers. She saw the briefest of emotions cross his features—relief being the most obvious. Something low in her belly clenched at the thought of his fear for her. Then his impenetrable Captain's face was back, all emotion tucked behind a visage of haughty defiance.

Absurdly, she wished his arms were not bound; she would have thrown herself into his embrace at that moment. Neither fear nor pride would have kept her from seeking shelter in his grasp.

They were left alone. In a low voice he told her of Worf, of Wesley. Their gazes locked when he told her of Wesley's work, his own delight in her son's insight and technical prowess…

She sat next to him on the makeshift bunk, needing to touch him, but not quite knowing how. She settled for crossing her left leg under her, resting her knee just against his thigh. The contact was elemental to her. Soothing. Provoking.

They argued about orders. Each had their own guilt to contend with.

She felt his pride in her when Finn exposed himself, revealing that she had never so much as given him her name.

He was here. She wasn't alone any more. For the briefest of moments, she had hope.

It was torn from her just minutes later with Finn's simple words, spoken without rancor, "I might have to kill him, you know."

Suddenly, her terror amplified exponentially. He couldn't die—not now, not here. Oh, God, not because of her.

He was there. He was there because of her.

"Jean-Luc," Terror greater than captivity, than terrorists, than her own death filled her at what she was about to say. "There are some things I want to tell you... in case... we don't get out of this."

The lights went out.

"They've found us then." His implacable facade broke for just a moment as hope filled his features. The darkness took on a different kind of waiting.

He was there. They would be fine.