Uhura closed her eyes and leaned into him, taking what he gave and asking nothing more. Her fingers brushed the nape of his neck and she relaxed fractionally, letting his light touch ease some of the tension that held her taut. She knew what he meant, knew the undercurrent of his words.

Her lips brushed his collar.

"Thank you," she said, never more aware of what it might have been like if he hadn't been there. A month alone on an alien ship in the middle of a multiuniversal war. God. And after Vulcan, as well.

It wasn't something she could comprehend. Not for him. But it was horrifying.