Work Text:
As delighted as you are to see her, Solana's presence makes an already awkward situation—coming home; coming home to your parents; coming home ill, practically an invalid—even more awkward.
Things get even more awkward when they spring the news on you that your sister is getting married. You feel your heart quietly break even as you exclaim, "Congratulations!" in your cheeriest voice.
The timing is awful.
You knew she'd been seeing someone for a while, but it hadn't really sunk in that Solana could settle down, would settle down. It feels like her life is moving on, quick and carefree, while you're still frozen in time in the past. Stuck; left behind.
She's so kind to you, though. Your family's always been fucked up, but she was always there for you even if standing next to her made you feel jagged and broken and flawed. You remember how she drove you crazy in every way possible, until living under the same roof felt unbearable. Then you ran away to a spaceship and a whole big galaxy. And now you're home again and you've been in the same room with her for three whole minutes and it's already apparent to you that she's still the sun you've secretly been rotating around. But she's already moved on.
Despite all that, you're still so glad to see her in person—her smiles are so much brighter close up. You missed the way she lays her hand on yours, every sensation, the warmth, the softness, the way her hands are just slightly clammy, your nerves lighting up wherever her fingers touch you. She's beautiful and she's getting married and you want to cry.
*
That night she sneaks into your bedroom when the house is asleep. Without turning on a light, she just takes a seat on your bed beside you and strokes your hair gently, like you're a child in bed sick with a fever and she's your mother doing whatever she can to soothe the pain and make it go away. She strokes your hair so gently and softly, rubs the back of a hand on your cheek—she does this over and over, in the dark quiet of your bedroom. Your breath hitches and your hands tingle with adrenaline until you feel you can't just keep lying there—you have to hold her. You grab her and pull her down onto you, draw her lips onto yours. Her fingers tangle even deeper in your hair as her mouth opens up against yours.
The two of you embrace and kiss, indulging yourself in the taste of each other, something you can only have in this room.
"What about Terlus?" you ask uncertainly as she pulls away. Solana lets out a sad laugh that seems to say, "Yes, 'what about Terlus,' indeed."
She ends up lying with you in bed, her arms wrapped around your back, her face buried in your breasts. "I'm glad you're back, sis," she murmurs in the dark. "Please—don't leave."
You take deep, slow breaths as you think of the Orville, thinking about your crewmates and how easy it is to get along with them; wondering how long it will be before you can leave Xelayah and see them again. Wondering if you even want to leave. Reminding yourself of how it feels like to be among people who have never met your sister and don't know what she is to you.
You came back to this place to heal. So why does it feel like all your wounds have opened up again?