her belly. “But that’s not what’s tiring you and you know
it.”
“What are you now, my shrink?” Taz asked crossly.
“You’re trying to be what you think Up needs,” Rosie
said. “But it’s not working, is it? He’s improving physically,
sure, but emotionally – he’s more distant than ever.”
It was true, but that didn’t mean she had to like hearing
it.
“You’re not his doctor, Taz, or his therapist. You’re more
than that. You need to be more than that.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Taz said through
gritted teeth. “He’s pushing me away. He’s been pushing
me away since -” Since Qo’noS. Since Space-Claw turned
him into what he is today. Since I watched him die.
“He’s only pushing you away because you’re letting
him,” Rosie gave a sad, distant smile. “Connor did that
sometimes, when work was tough. When we were feeling
far away from each other – emotionally, I mean – we
always found a little physical closeness went a long way.”
Physical closeness. “We’re not you and Tripp,” Taz said.
Rosie’s face darkened. “No, you’re not,” she said.
“You’re both still alive.”
Shit.
Taz dropped back against the wall. “I’m sorry, Rosie.”
“You should be,” she said, and there was anger in her
voice. “If I could have my Conner back today-”
She didn’t finish this thought, but turned to leave. “You
and Up have been given another chance. Just – don’t waste
it. Don’t give up on him.”
Up woke to a burning sensation running the length of his
torso, along the line where human met robot. It wasn’t an
attack, it wasn’t as sharp as that, but he rubbed his chest and
winced, curling up against the pain his own faithless body