Chapter Text
Title: Borrowed Time
Author: Poodle
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A glimpse into the shattered past of Tasha Yar. This novella takes place twenty years in the past, when a young, frightened Tasha fights to survive in a world without mercy.
Author's notes: For the most part, this is an original story. The characters are mine with the notable exception of a young Tasha Yar.
BORROWED TIME
By Poodle~
A gust of wind blew sand into her eyes as she ran. The little girl paused, panicked by the temporary loss of sight, and rubbed frantically until her vision cleared. The stinging remained, and her eyes teared. But Tasha was brave. She looked around at the cold, gray stone of buildings, the littered, unkempt streets and shivered. She glanced toward the horizon where dusk was descending. She must hurry. The streets were dangerous enough when it was light, but once night had fallen she would be fair game to any dark predator who prowled. She wrapped her arms tightly around her emaciated frame and hurried on. She must find a place to sleep before all available spots were taken by those too large or too dangerous to nudge.
Autumn was near but her feet were bare. They struck the hard concrete of the roadway with numbing force. As she ran, her eyes caught sight of ten tiny, grubby toes, and her mind cruelly conjured a fleeting glimpse of frostbitten appendages. She swallowed fear. She'd seen toes like that, all frozen and green, on several of the old women who lived under the bridge. Would that happen to her? She drew her shirt tighter to her body and hurried on, hoping that perhaps there would be room for her, tonight, under the bridge. If not...
The old women were kind. Sometimes they offered her fresh water or even a crust of bread, but more often, they simply volunteered words of advice and tips on survival. That knowledge, alone, was priceless. There were few sources of such information available to a six year old on her own, caring for her infant sister, and the absence of such could prove life threatening. Examples of those less fortunate could be found in ditches or down lonely alleys on any morning. To Tasha, death was a constant companion; neither friend nor foe, simply inevitable if one grew too hungry or too cold. It was not so much death that the child feared, as life, or rather, those who walked through life with her. Creatures who preyed upon those who were smaller and weaker than themselves. But Tasha was brave. She shivered and ran faster.
Footfalls. She heard them in the distance behind her and paused. The sound of her pulse raced through her ears.
There it was again. The sound of footsteps. Her breath caught, and frantically she searched for a place to hide, a hole to burrow into, a porch to scramble beneath, all to no avail. Cold, foreboding buildings rose up around her, their windows and doors barred against her. She knew from experience that it would be useless to seek admittance. Their doors would never swing open in welcome to such a grubby, unworthy child as she.
So Tasha fled, her long hair flying out in tangles behind her, her torn shirt billowing around her frame as if it were empty - a wraithlike tatterdemalion, fleeing into the rising mist of nightfall.
In her haste, her foot struck a stone, and the impact sent her sailing. Her cheek slammed against the pavement. Pain jarred bones much too old for their years, and she lay dazed and fearful.
Get up! Her mind cried to unresponsive legs. Someone's coming! Her head swam. Her vision blurred. They'll get you, Tasha. The thought came fleetingly. But suddenly, she did not care. Her busted cheek fell limply back to the cold concrete.
Darkness rose, numbing the fear in her mind.
~*~*~*~*
Warmth. It penetrated her consciousness, drawing the ache from her bones. Gentle hands stroked her bruised cheek. A warm body pulled her close.
A smile played across Tasha's lips. She was dreaming of her mother's tender hands...
~*~*~*~*
"Chloe, have you lost your wits, girl? She can't stay here!" The woman's crusty voice roused Tasha from her sleep.
"Hush, she'll hear you," a softer voice admonished.
"I don't care if she does hear me! You can't keep that street urchin here. If they find out--"
"They won't find out."
"Oh, yes they will. And when they do, they'll toss you out on your emerald ear. You might even lose your job. Now tell me where you'd find another job in this town."
"It'll be all right--"
"It won't be all right, Chloe. That filthy little thing cannot stay here."
"She has nowhere else to go," the softer voice beseeched. "She's been living in the streets!"
"And that's where you're going to be, living in the streets! Don't say Ole Esther didn't warn you. You'll end up tossed out of this fine apartment--"
"Fine! You call this single room and a bath, fine?"
"You'll end up living with five gruff, old women like I do," Esther snapped. "You just don't know when you've got it good. You've got heat, here, girl. Heat! That's nothing to scoff at."
"I know that, Esther. It's better than I've had in the past, but I can't throw her out. I just can't."
"I'm going down there, Chloe, right now, and I'm going to tell them you've got a child in this apartment."
"No!"
"It's for your own good. That old tomcat was bad enough, but now you're dragging grimy, little waifs home. You haven't got enough food to feed yourself. Just look at you, you're skin and bones. Pretty soon those customers in the bar will stop looking at you and you'll lose your job. There are a lot of women on the streets who would gladly take your place."
Chloe sighed. "The customers in the bar don't look at me, I serve drinks."
"Men look. And when they see your skin, they look again. And when men look, they buy drinks. And when men buy drinks the people who own this apartment are happy."
The woman swallowed. When she spoke again her voice was lower. "I know what men see when they look at me, Esther. I don't have to be reminded."
"Mark my words, you're heading for trouble with this waif. Just look at her; she's such an ugly little thing. Oh why do you do this to yourself?"
"I couldn't just leave her there. She was hurt. She was bleeding. I had to--"
"I'm going down right now!"
"Esther, please!"
The voices moved nearer to where Tasha lay. Her eyes snapped shut as the two women brushed past, but she opened them a sliver when they reached the door.
"It's for your own good. You got no business bringing that child in here. You haven't got an ounce of sense in that brain of yours." The older woman's face was stern.
"Please!" the woman with the gentle voice implored as she moved into Tasha's field of vision.
The child's eyes widened when she caught sight of the young woman's emerald skin. An Orion! Tasha had seen very few Orions. She found them exotic.
Chloe turned in her direction, and Tasha's eyes snapped shut.
"I can't throw her out. Please don't tell, Esther. I beg you. She's just a little girl."
A long silence followed.
Tasha's eyes crept open.
The older woman was standing before the door where she drew a deep sigh. "Don't say old Esther didn't warn you."
"Oh, I knew you wouldn't tell!" Chloe threw her arms around the woman who grumbled beneath her breath. "Thank you, thank you."
"I didn't say I wouldn't tell."
"You won't. Oh, I know you won't. You're a good friend."
The woman drew another sigh, and then her eyes fell on the sofa where the child lay. "Keep her warm," she said softly. "And clean. You never know what an urchin will drag in from the streets. Now, I've got to go. I'm expected at the diner." She turned to leave.
"Oh, thank you, Esther, thank you."
The woman released a snort, then paused. She faced her friend. "Perhaps, just perhaps--" she chewed her lip absently, "--if there's one just lying around, I might be able to find a jar of milk at the diner. If I do, and I'm not promising you that I won't take it home and drink it myself, I might bring it to you. You're awful skinny, you could use the nourishment."
"You're a doll." Chloe's eyes began to sparkle.
The woman mumbled beneath her breath. "Just don't get no ideas about giving any of it to that freeloader." She slipped into the hall.
"Of course not, Esther."
The Orion watched as her friend walked away, then she closed the door.
Tasha was watching her from the sofa.
Chloe smiled and started toward her.
The child's eyes narrowed.
Chloe froze.
"I can hurt you," Tasha spoke, "Don't think I can't. I'm stronger than I look."
"I'm sure you are," the Orion replied calmly, not attempting to move any closer to the child.
"I can bite too. Real hard. Don't think I can't. I once bite a woman's finger off."
"Really?"
"And swallowed it."
Chloe's brow rose. "Was it good?"
"Huh?" Tasha frowned.
"The finger, was it good?"
The child was bewildered by the question so she shrugged. "I guess so. Anyway, I don't have to stay here if I don't want to."
"That's right." The woman nodded. "The door's unlocked. You're free to go any time. It would be wrong of me to try to keep you against your will."
Her eyes cut toward the closed door, then slowly she scanned the meager room. It was small but cozy. "It's warm here," she commented, meeting the woman's blue eyes.
"Yes, it is. You're free to stay--" She passed by the sofa on her way to the kitchen area, "--or go, as you wish. Are you hungry?" She glanced casually over her shoulder.
Tasha's interest piqued. She leaned forward, attempting to peer into the small refrigeration unit the woman had opened. She found it nearly bare. Chloe turned to meet her gaze. The child looked away.
"Are you hungry?"
Tasha shrugged. "I might be."
"Well, if you might be, I'll fix us both some soup, then I must be going; I work nights."
"At the bar?"
The woman glanced up, surprised. "Esther used to say that little pitchers have big ears. Now I understand her meaning."
A frown creased the child's brow.
"Yes. At the bar downstairs." She turned to prepare the meal.
"What's a bar?"
"Well. It's sort of a lounge where people come to sit and relax. We get some of our clientele locally, but a great deal comes from galactic shipping lanes. Here's your soup." She started across the room, then paused as Tasha 's eyes narrowed. "I'll just set it here." She laid it down on the end of the coffee table and had a seat across the room.
The child eyed it warily. When Chloe began to eat, Tasha picked up the bowl and sniffed its contents. Her stomach growled. "I might eat it. Then I'll have to leave," she announced.
"Of course, as you wish."
The soup was the first hot meal she'd had in months. Disregarding the presence of utensils, she tipped the bowl and slurped it rapidly into her mouth. Between bites, she asked, "What did you mean when you said, 'I know what men see when they look at me'?"
The woman choked, then cleared her throat. "You should not repeat everything you hear."
"You're Orion, aren't you? You're green. Vulcans are green, too. I saw one once, but they're not as green as you are."
The woman's lips pressed into a fine line. "Yes, I'm green, and I gather you're ivory under all that grime."
"I might be." The child paused. "Do you think I might turn green like you if I eat only green things?"
"No. I believe you're human. You will always be ivory."
Tasha looked disappointed. "Ivory is boring. When you get cold you turn all blue, and your veins stick out. It's real yucky."
"Are you cold often?"
The child looked away. "Not me, I know how to stay warm. Do you think I'm stupid or something and don't know how to take care of myself?"
"No," Chloe replied softly, "I don't think you're stupid or something."
Tasha laid her bowl aside. "Sometimes."
"What was that?"
"Sometimes, I'm cold," she said quietly. "But not often. I'm too smart for that."
"Of course you are." The woman rose and moved into the kitchen area. "Now, if you decide to stay--"
"I'm not staying."
"Of course you aren't. The bath's in there." She pointed toward a closed door. "The sofa pulls out into a bed. I sleep there, as well. And grubby little toes make unsightly smudges on the sheets. You do know how to bathe?"
The child puffed out her cheeks. "I'm not stupid." She glanced toward the closed door. "I might take a bath, but you can't help me."
"I wouldn't think to. Besides, I've got to leave."
"That's good, 'cause if I decide to take a bath before I shove off, I wouldn't want you to help me." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't like to be touched."
Chloe's brow furrowed. "Why?"
Tasha's eyes moved aimlessly around the room, taking in the feminine touch of lace curtains and knitted afghans amidst the meager surroundings. "Just because. That's why."
"Just because, why?"
She shrugged, then met the woman's eyes levelly. "Because, when people touch you, it's like they take little pieces of you away. If they take too much, there won't be anything left."
Chloe drew in her breath.
The child resumed her scan of the room.
"I understand," Chloe said faintly, then looked aside. "Anyway, I've got to go," she continued louder. "Sometimes I don't come home at night, but usually I do. Keep the door locked. Under no circumstances open it for anyone. Especially not a man. Do you understand?"
"I understand," she replied, as if speaking to a child. "But I won't be here when you get back."
"Well, if you are, I will be very appreciative, since I've got no one to watch my apartment for me. Good apartment watchers are difficult to find."
Tasha looked speculative. "I might do that."
"Good." Chloe headed toward the door.
"Then, again, I might not."
"As you wish."
Chloe closed the door behind her.
~*~*~*~*
I mustn't get wet! The thought sprang to Tasha's mind as she tipped her toes into the steaming bath. She pushed the idea aside and slid into the relaxing water. It felt peculiar to be totally submerged this time of year, but she reminded herself, she was not outside in the elements that would make such a luxury unhealthy but rather within the comforts of a building.
She listened to the haunting sound of the wind as it whistled around the eves, and shivered, ducking her head beneath the water. The liquid turned a murky brown almost instantly. She seized a bar of soap and set to work, unable to recall the last time she'd had a true bath in a true tub. Steam rose up around her, causing her skin to prickle. She scrubbed until she glowed a rosy pink. She hadn't seen her skin so clean in ages, and she thought of Chloe's emerald tint with envy. She would look like a little, pink pig beside the woman's deep tone. Tasha had seen a picture of a pig once, and the analogy embarrassed her. It would be much more exotic to have dark features. She ducked her head beneath the surface, then began to scrub her tangled mass of hair.
The wind whistled again, and the child shivered. She thought of her friend Della, one of the women who lived under the bridge, and she wondered if her friends were warm tonight. Della would take care of her sister Ishara for her; the old women were enamored by the cherubic child who was still at that cute stage that Tasha had fast departed.
Rising from the tub, she wrapped herself in a large, fluffy towel and began wandering around the bath to examine the sparse assortment of bottles and jars resting on the counter. Curiously, she pulled the top off a small jar and sniffed its contents. The fragrance was pleasant. She tasted it and grimaced. It was useless as far as she was concerned. Laying the jar aside, she continued her quest, uncapping several more, all with similar results. What good were fragrant substances if they tasted yucky? She abandoned them in favor of a colorful robe folded neatly on the counter.
Tasha ran her hands over its velvety texture, and a grin spread across her face. The little girl glanced over her shoulder, though she knew she was alone, then picked up the garment and slipped into it. It was several sizes too large and hung limply from her scrawny form, but it was warm and bright, unlike anything she'd ever seen before. She gathered the excess fabric around her scant body and twirled. Such a garment on the streets would result in one being swiftly accosted by someone intent upon acquiring it. But Tasha was not on the streets, she reminded herself. Her mind began to ponder the young Orion woman who had brought her here and the woman's intent.
With a frown, Tasha gathered the folds of the robe up and wandered into the living area of the apartment, again marveling that she was warm. What did this Chloe woman want? Sitting on the, sofa she drew her legs beneath her, and her eyes cut toward the closed door. She had told the woman that she was leaving.
"I can, too." She spoke aloud in the empty room, listening to the hollow sound of her voice. "I can walk right out that door and no one is big enough to stop me. At least, not some ole puny woman. I can go home..." Back to the streets, back to the cold, the hunger and a few desperate old women in worse shape than herself. "I'm going. My friends will miss me."
But the child did not move. Her friends would find her one less mouth to feed and perhaps even be grateful. They showed little interest in her, only Ishara. Tasha sighed.
The faint sound of music, followed by an occasional mingling of laughter, drifted through the floor from the bar downstairs. Tasha had never seen a bar. There were few examples on this world of free enterprise. And this 'bar' had her intrigued. What did this Orion who worked in a bar intend to do with her?
She glanced around at the sparsely furnished apartment, one of the few intact structures she'd ever been inside, and pondered the woman who lived here. She thought of the almost bare refrigeration unit, and a cold possibility washed over her.
Her eyes darted to the door.
Tasha swallowed fear. It didn't happen often, although with the degradation on the streets she could not fathom why, but she'd seen it once or twice. People gnawing on the remains of one of their companions who had died during the night. Surely this woman did not intend to eat her?
Was the door locked?
She sprang to her feet and scurried to check it. The lock was easily controlled from her side, and the door swung open effortlessly.
She drew a sigh of relief. She really was free to go as the woman had said. So she closed the door and returned to the sofa.
"I'm brave," she whispered into the hush. "I'll just stick around and see what this old Orion wants."
~*~