No More, No Less - Chapter 8

Breakthrough

sequel to "Confrontation"

by Setcheti

Genre: Angst
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Paramount owns them. They don’t deserve them, but they own them just the same, more’s the pity.

Author’s Note: : #8 of No More No Less. This is a wrap-up of sorts for the series, a tying up of loose ends with everyone, but there is still one more story coming! Unlike the first seven stories (and the last one) this story contains multiple POVs and it got quite a bit longer in the finishing than I’d intended it to be.

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Chapter 8 – Breakthrough

Hoshi had been pleasantly surprised when T’Pol responded so immediately to the news that Dr. Phlox had sent for Trip, but she hadn’t expected the Vulcan to practically start running once they were out of the lift on D-deck. “Sub-Commander…”

T’Pol barely looked back at her. “We must intercept Commander Tucker before he reaches Sickbay.”

“But...but he needs to go to Sickbay…”

“I know,” T’Pol cut her off without looking back. “But not alone.”

Hoshi almost stopped in her tracks in shock. Even after what Travis had told them about that morning’s scene in Tucker’s quarters and then what had just happened on the bridge, she still hadn’t really thought T’Pol’s ‘feelings’ could run too deep. Not for a human, especially not for someone who was as gleefully and unapologetically human as Trip Tucker. The enormity of what was happening almost floored the linguist. T’Pol had just blown off the captain on the bridge, and now she was rushing through the ship to reach Tucker so he wouldn’t have to face Phlox and Sickbay and whatever messy memories they held for him by himself. And she’d brought Hoshi along and tried to bring Malcolm, meaning she understood that Trip would possibly need more support than one person alone could give him.

Meaning she understood his feelings…and was accepting of them. Was willing to indulge them, even.

They’d reached the corridor approaching Sickbay, and T’Pol slowed her pace and visibly composed herself. A few hours ago Hoshi would have thought that the other woman was trying to maintain her Vulcan dignity, but now she wondered if T’Pol had something more human in mind. That thought was confirmed when she saw Commander Tucker standing just in front of Sickbay’s double doors and so obviously scared to death in spite of what must have been a valiant attempt to maintain control that Hoshi hurt for him. And she kicked herself; she’d known he might need support confronting Dr. Phlox for the first time, but she’d never considered that he might need their help just to re-enter Sickbay.

T’Pol obviously had, though. And had just as obviously schooled herself into a semblance of calm and control to better help Tucker maintain his own. The first words out of her mouth confirmed it. “Commander, I am glad we were in time to intercept you.”

Trip started, and Hoshi realized he hadn’t even registered that they were there until that moment. Relief and embarrassment flooded his face, but he nodded stiffly. “I am too. Glad you’re here, that is. Wasn’t sure I could…” He gestured toward the frosted doors of Sickbay with a jerky wave of his hand. “Haven’t been in there since…since…”

“Since you left to attend the funeral,” T’Pol finished for him, nodding herself. For someone who wasn’t supposed to be displaying emotion she had a wealth of sympathy showing in both face and voice. “It is only logical that you would be uneasy about returning.”

“Lieutenant Reed would have come too, but he had something to finish on the bridge,” Hoshi added, moving in closer herself. She wasn’t going to tell him that she thought the thing Malcolm had stayed behind to finish was a major confrontation with the captain – she just hoped they wouldn’t be leaving Sickbay to visit the armory officer in the brig, or worse. Malcolm Reed wasn’t necessary to the running of the ship; Enterprise didn’t need an armory officer to be able to complete her mission.

But then, she was pretty sure Malcolm knew that. She was pretty sure, given recent events, that Malcolm had worked out the relative mission-value of every crewmember on board with an eye toward making sure the least-needed didn’t get killed off every time something risky needed to be done.

Unfortunately, Hoshi was also pretty sure Captain Archer had worked out the values in the opposite direction. Everyone was afraid of him and with good reason. He’d been careless with the crew’s safety before, but it hadn’t been deliberate; now he just didn’t care. The thought made her shudder.

The shudder was echoed by Trip, although it had a different fear behind it. He’d managed to stay in control of himself long enough to get out of Engineering and away from the curious eyes of his staff, but the closer he’d gotten to Sickbay the more he’d felt like a man walking to his own execution. Which of course was exactly what he had done all those weeks ago – which was why he was shaking in his shoes now. Phlox had been avoiding him, which Trip could understand and couldn’t fault the doctor for, and it was a situation he really hadn’t expected to change any time soon. He could only guess that Travis had gotten caught trying to get his first-aid supplies.

Or, Travis had meant to get caught. Trip knew his friends – the friends he hadn’t thought he still had until just over a week ago – were worried about him, and he knew they wanted to help. But the six-million dollar question was, did Phlox? Or would the Denobulan just…declare the experiment a failure and write it off as an idea that hadn’t worked? And would the captain insist he try again, for the ‘good of the mission’?

Trip was very afraid the captain would. Again and again and again until they got a viable engineer or until the mission was over, whichever came first. He doubted they’d tell him what was going on the next time, though. Or the time after that, or the time after that…

The nightmare he’d been trying to ignore all this time rose up to choke him. His life could very easily be over again if he took one more step, his newly regained personhood could be stripped away again and Trip Tucker would cease to exist – because Trip Tucker wasn’t necessary, Trip Tucker was just an unwanted attachment to the engineering knowledge the captain required to complete the mission. Trip Tucker, unlike Chief Engineer Commander Tucker, was expendable.

Something pinched his arm – hard! – and Trip jumped, sucking in a breath as he did. He looked down at the hand on his arm and then up into T’Pol’s intense eyes in shock. “What…”

“You were not breathing,” she observed evenly, but something in her expression warmed as her grip on him gentled. “We will not allow anything to happen to you, Charles.”

He smiled, a very small smile that just barely twitched up the corners of his mouth, and patted her shoulder. “I know you’ll try,” he told her softly. He wasn’t going to deny the truth of the situation, and he wouldn’t let her deny it for him either. “But you might not be able to stop it.” And gently removing her hand from his arm, he turned back to the doors, squared his shoulders, and walked into Sickbay.

Dr. Phlox had been watching the corridor on the monitor, hurting for his son but knowing he couldn’t help, so he’d been more than happy to see Sub-Commander T’Pol and Ensign Sato come to the rescue. The exchange between Tucker and T’Pol worried him, though; a tender moment to be sure, but the look of utter defeat and resignation on the engineer’s face raised alarm flags in the doctor’s mind. Something was very wrong, even more so than he’d anticipated. And he could tell by the look on T’Pol’s face that she was seeing it for the first time as well, she looked almost startled. Phlox sighed. Well, he supposed he would be finding out what it was soon enough.

He’d waited around the corner from the main entrance, wanting to give Tucker a chance to adjust to the idea of being back in Sickbay before having to deal with Phlox himself. When he did come out he did so slowly, being sure to make plenty of noise to announce himself, but the younger man still started when he appeared. “Doc, you…needed to see me?”

“I heard you’ve been having difficulties,” Phlox answered, careful to keep both face and voice pleasantly neutral; he didn’t want to sound like he was laying blame for not having been told. He took two more cautious steps closer. “I do apologize for neglecting you these past weeks, Charles. Had I not drawn away from you, no doubt you would have felt more secure in coming to me for help. Did this morning’s neuropressure help the headache?”

Trip had started slightly again at the use of his given name, but he was unable to maintain eye contact and shifted his gaze to somewhere near the floor. “Uh, yeah, for a little while.”

“But it is back now?” A nod. Phlox nodded too, even though the younger man wasn’t looking at him. “Why don’t we get you into the scanner and see if we can figure out what the problem is, then? Would you be comfortable with doing that?” Blue eyes flashed up in disbelief, and Phlox took another step closer. “If laying inside the scanner would be too distressing for you, we can come up with something else,” he assured the engineer gently. “I will not force you.”

“You won’t?” That appeared to have slipped out, because Tucker immediately looked embarrassed and squared his shoulders much the same way he had just prior to entering Sickbay. “I mean, no, it’s okay. I can do it.”

“Good, that will make it much easier to see what has gone wrong.” Phlox motioned Trip onward, encompassing Hoshi and T’Pol in the gesture as well, and then followed him across the room to the extended platform of the open scanner. He drew as close as he dared when the younger man hesitated, but not quite close enough to touch. Before he could say anything, though, Trip gathered himself again and sat down, then lay down on the platform. Phlox wasn’t about to push his luck by asking another question. “This will only take a few moments,” he said reassuringly, moving to the controls as he did so.

Trip gave him a thumbs-up, but Hoshi still held her breath when the platform slid inside the scanner. She’d been halfway afraid he wouldn’t be able to do it, and from T’Pol’s sharp intake of breath when the scanner closed itself up she guessed the Vulcan hadn’t been too sure either. Hoshi moved closer to Phlox, who was watching the readouts closely, and when he abruptly leaned his head against the panel and shut his eyes she feared the worst. “Doctor?”

He sighed. “He is shaking so hard he is practically vibrating,” Phlox said softly, almost as much to himself as to her. “I did this through my negligence, and now I do not know if I can fix it.”

“You can,” T’Pol said, surprising him. She nodded when he looked at her questioningly. “You are a father figure to Charles, and he does not hold what you were forced to do against you.”

“Perhaps not, but that does not stop him from being afraid I will hurt him again,” the doctor told her pointedly. But he straightened. “He was such a delightful child, and even as a young man, so loving and affectionate and always wanting to help. I understand him so much better now, and to have done this to him….well, on Denobula this would be a crime worthy of shunning.” He shuddered. “Charles’ family was much like one of ours, he grew up surrounded by their love and support, a very firm foundation..” He made an adjustment to the scanner array, frowned at what the new settings showed him. “When the Xindi attacked Earth, his older sister blamed him for Elizabeth’s death. To maintain the peace, his parents requested that he not return home or attend her memorial service.”

Hoshi was horrified. She’d known that there were those on Earth who blamed Starfleet, particularly Enterprise and her crew, for what had happened, but she never would have thought that Tucker’s tight-knit family might be among them. “So he didn’t have anyone to…”

“To help him work through his grief, no. Not until the memories returned to him in his cloned form and he came to me, anyway. Considering the lack of emotional support, I think he did surprisingly well – or maybe not surprisingly, although that could just be the parent in me talking.” Phlox sighed again, thinking of his older son who had gone so terribly astray, and how he had blamed himself for it. “Sometimes a firm foundation is not enough, but in Charles’ case it was, just barely.”

“He is a strong individual,” T’Pol said, and to Hoshi it sounded far more like a compliment than it would have in the early days of their mission, the days when the Vulcan found fault with nearly everything Tucker did. “This situation may have been, as humans put it, ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’.” At Hoshi’s look she almost shrugged. “Charles explained the reference to me, it is a very logical analogy as applied to human emotional tolerance.”

“Humans do have a delightfully colorful way of putting things, don’t they?” Phlox agreed. He ended his scan and the unit slid back open; Trip had swung his legs over the side and was sitting up almost before the platform had stopped moving, but the doctor didn’t comment on it. “You’ll be happy to know that it’s nothing serious,” he told the nervous engineer kindly.

Trip shuddered, although it looked like he was trying not to. His blue eyes were wide, too wide, and Hoshi could see that the fingers wrapped around the edge of the platform were white-knuckled. “So you don’t have to…do it again?”

Phlox’ eyes widened too, with shock. “You thought…” The look on the engineer’s face clearly said he did. “No! No, I wouldn’t do it again even if I could, you have my word on that.” He answered the question before it was asked. “I don’t have any more of that particular creature, there was only the one.” He frowned when Trip looked down, reached out to lift his chin back up so he could look him in the eye. “Charles, I would not have done it at all had I known the outcome. And I have researched the enzyme treatment thoroughly, it would have extended your clone’s life by only a few days at most. Had we tried it, you both would have died.”

A twist of bitterness warped the relief on Trip’s face. “That wouldn’t have made the captain happy.”

“Nothing makes the captain happy,” T’Pol stated dismissively, as though the subject were one not worth bothering about. “Doctor, what is the problem?”

“An abscess – a small one,” Phlox added quickly when Trip’s eyes widened again. “It appears to have been a localized pocket of infection which sealed itself off, it is the pressure from it which is causing your headaches and dizziness. Once it is gone, the symptoms will disappear as well.”

Trip nodded but didn’t relax. “Will you have to do,” he swallowed hard, and the word came out as a near-whisper, “surgery?”

“No,” Phlox assured him. “No surgery. The procedure will take only a few minutes, and you will be able to return to work in an hour.” He lifted his hand to the younger man’s face again, this time to touch his cheek. “I am so sorry, sa-athel. Ignorance is no excuse for the way I have treated you – or not treated you, as the case may be.”

Trip sucked in a shocked breath, and it took him a long moment to find his voice. “I…I thought you didn’t…”

“I didn’t know, Charles – I thought I had killed my son, only to find out instead that I had abandoned him when he needed me most.” Phlox stroked his cheek again, then let his hand drop so his fingers could curl lightly around one broad, trembling shoulder. “Can you forgive me that mistake as well?”

“You couldn’t have known.” Trip’s voice was choked, his eyes becoming bright. “I…I didn’t really know at first myself, it was all so mixed up in my head. Took me a while to get it all sorted out, and then…” His head dropped, his fair skin flushing. “I’m sorry, athel-sa. You must be so ashamed of me for even considerin’…”

“On the contrary, I am amazingly proud of you,” Phlox interrupted gently, giving him a little shake. “If anyone were given cause for wanting to end their life, it was you in this situation – and even in the face of that, you were prepared to delay your plans for the good of the ship and the mission. But if I am not mistaken, those plans have changed, have they not?”

“Yeah.” Trip swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Yeah, they have.” Another shudder. “But…” he shot a sidelong look at Hoshi and T’Pol before looking up with frightened eyes at Phlox, “the captain’s might not have.”

The doctor’s face became a study in horrified anger. “Still the nightmares?” At Trip’s nod he pulled the younger man into a strong embrace. “Sa-athel, you have my word, Captain Archer is not going to hurt you.”

T’Pol frowned slightly and leaned closer to Hoshi, lowering her voice. “Ensign, do you know…?”

Hoshi smiled. “The words they’ve been using mean father and son, the prefix and suffix define a particular type of familial relationship. That’s one of the things that makes Denobulan so hard to learn, which word you use depends a lot on who’s talking to who about what.”

The Vulcan nodded but wasn’t satisfied. “And the nightmares? I thought they concerned the Xindi attack on Earth…”

“No, not the Xindi, not any more,” Phlox said quietly, before Hoshi could open her mouth to say she’d thought the same thing. “Those stopped fairly quickly, once he had someone to talk with about what happened. But he’s been having nightmares about the captain since he was physiologically nine or ten.” The doctor’s expression hardened. “I should never have allowed Captain Archer to be alone with him at such an impressionable developmental stage, never.”

Hoshi shuddered slightly. She could remember when Jonathan Archer had been one of the gentlest, kindest men she’d ever met. Not the sort of man who’d frighten a child, especially not on purpose and certainly not so badly that the adult was still terrified of him. But now… “That was unwise,” T’Pol agreed, moving closer to the doctor as Trip pulled out of his embrace and stood up, looking embarrassed and swiping at his eyes. The Vulcan caught and held those eyes with her own. “I will not allow Captain Archer to harm you,” she stated flatly, and then waved a hand to encompass Hoshi and Phlox. “We will not allow it.”

Malcolm chose that moment to walk into the room. “Bloody well right we won’t,” he agreed cheerfully; Hoshi couldn’t help but notice he was all but glowing with self-satisfaction and breathed a silent sigh of relief that he’d come out on top in whatever confrontation he’d just had with the captain. “But I don’t think you have to worry about him doing much of anything, not today anyway. He’ll likely be sulking in his ready room for another hour at least, and I will be quite surprised if he retakes the bridge at any time during my shift.”

Phlox and T’Pol both nodded, and Hoshi couldn’t help but grin back at him…but Trip actually paled. “Mal, you didn’t…” Malcolm smirked, and the engineer closed the distance between them in one long step and grabbed the smaller man’s arm. “Are you crazy?! He doesn’t care about anything but the mission, don’t you get it? Mal, he doesn’t need,” his voice cracked and he swallowed hard, “an armory officer to finish the mission.”

Hoshi winced; obviously Trip had done the math just like everyone else. Malcolm, however, didn’t turn a hair or even move out of the engineer’s strong grip. “I know,” he replied calmly. “But Trip, insubordination isn’t possible in this situation, and even if it were I was well within the scope of my duties to have the conversation I did with him just now.” Malcolm conveniently did not add that he hadn’t exactly conducted said conversation the way regulations instructed him to. “If he takes it badly that’s his problem.”

Trip’s eyebrows went up. “You invoked Article 41 on him?”

“I told him I was prepared to, and that I had enough evidence to do it twice over. Which happens to be the truth,” Malcolm added. “It was about time someone made him face what he’s been doing, and I’m the only person on board who can do so with impunity because of Article 41 – I’m required to inform him when his behavior constitutes a violation of the article so long as he is still otherwise rational and I can do so without risking myself or another crewmember.”

Trip blinked. “Why am I not surprised you memorized that?”

“It’s my job to have it memorized.” Malcolm shrugged, and his saucy grin came back. “I’m quite sure the captain had to look it up the moment I left the room, though. Now enough about Captain Ahab, what’s got us all down here standing around? Did our good doctor find out what’s causing the difficulties you’ve been having?”

“I did, and I was just about to fix it,” Phlox told him. The doctor was smiling again, full of approval for Reed’s handling of things. “You may all remain in Sickbay.” His tone said he really thought they should, or at least that he didn’t think they’d leave if he told them to. “Now if we could move this over to a biobed, the actual procedure will only take a few moments to complete.”

He would have led Trip past the nearest biobed, but the engineer stopped at its foot and shook his head. “No, might as well do it all at once – better to face it now than during some emergency.”

“This is the place, then?” Malcolm asked quietly, returning the gesture when Trip and Phlox both nodded and then clapping the engineer on the shoulder. “Good thinking – it wouldn’t do for either of you to have difficulties if the circumstances were more urgent.”

Trip looked startled. “Either of…athel-sa?”

“I might,” Phlox admitted. “I haven’t been sleeping too well myself these past few weeks.” His raised hand forestalled Trip’s automatic apology. “No, it wasn’t your fault. Circumstances were forced upon us, now we simply have to move past them.”

“Doin’ my best,” Trip said, looking down again.

“Doing just fine,” Malcolm corrected firmly, returning the shake the engineer had given him earlier. “You’re always saying I don’t cut myself enough slack, but you’re far more demanding when it comes to yourself.”

“That is true,” T’Pol agreed. “You have done admirably well in the face of current circumstances.”

“Whether you think so or not,” Hoshi added uncompromisingly. “That’s the kind of thing you can’t trust your own opinion on, you have to take our word for it.”

“Exactly so.” Phlox was pleased and almost beaming again. He guided Trip around the biobed and directed him to sit on the side of it, making sure his son was comfortably situated before beginning to fuss with the bed’s controls, routing the scanner’s readings through to the panels overhead. Then he crossed the room and came back, this time behind Trip on the opposite side of the bed, with two small conical silver devices. “These are a very simple yet very effective alternative to more invasive procedures,” he explained, making sure the nervous engineer got a good look at them. “Where the two beams intersect…”

“They burn whatever’s at the point of contact but nothin’ else,” Trip finished for him, turning the little device over in his fingers before handing it back. “We use somethin’ like this in Engineerin’ to fuse connections that can’t be reached, they’re real precise.”

“We also use them in the science lab,” T’Pol said. “So you will use these to target the abscess?”

“And destroy it, yes,” Phlox answered. “It will be very quick and completely painless. Normally you would not even have to stay in Sickbay once the procedure was completed,” he assured his son. “But I anticipate that you may experience some temporary dizziness and nausea once the pressure is relieved, so I feel it would be best if you remained here for a short time until you are feeling back to normal.”

Trip looked back over his shoulder to lock eyes with the doctor. “Okay,” he said, and then added deliberately, “I trust you, athel-sa.”

Phlox ruffled his hair. “Thank you, sa-athel,” he responded. “Now just lie down on your side and try to relax, and I’ll be done before you know it.”

T’Pol and Malcolm moved in to help him get situated, but even before Trip was fully lying down the biobed readings shot up sharply. He had already stiffened up again and closed his eyes, and when Phlox attached the first of the small devices near the base of his skull Hoshi saw a shudder ripple all the way through the length of his body. She wasn’t the only one who’d seen it; the doctor stopped what he was doing at the same time Malcolm raised a hand to signal him to wait, and T’Pol leaned in close. “Charles, open your eyes and look at me,” she ordered. Blue eyes blinked open. “Look only at me,” T’Pol continued. “You will continue to look me in the eye until the doctor is finished, do you understand?”

He nodded, but when the Vulcan reached out to put her hand against the side of his face the doctor’s larger hand wrapped firmly around her wrist, preventing contact. “No, T’Pol,” he told her. “Now is not a good time.”

She looked startled. “I was not…”

“Not intentionally, but instinct is more powerful than you realize,” the doctor rebutted quietly, turning her hand so she could see the positions of her fingers. He nodded when her eyes widened. “You see? Now keep your hands back, and the three of us can discuss what this means at a better time.” He ruffled Trip’s hair again. “Do as T’Pol says, Charles, and it will all be over in a moment.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Trip whispered, but he made a visible effort to relax and do as he was told. “I’m sorry…”

“Oh bloody hell, not that again,” Malcolm exclaimed without heat. He leaned in close as well. “What happened the last time you were in here?”

Another shudder. “I…I died.”

“You were killed,” the armory officer corrected flatly, ignoring the doctor’s flinch. “Quite deliberately, while your commanding officer stood by watching with that rat-bastard look he gets on his face so much these days, if I’m not mistaken…and now here you are again. Mr. Tucker, if I were in your place our good doctor would have had to stun me into tractability with a phase pistol.” This time he did glance up at Phlox. “You might want to remember that for future reference, Doctor.”

Phlox knew that was an apology for the first comment and nodded to show that he accepted it, then went back to what he’d been doing and placed the second of the small devices at an oblique angle to its counterpart. Overhead on the screen that showed the abscess tracking beams appeared, and the doctor adjusted them until they converged right in the center of the problem; then he activated the devices, and the point where the beams met turned red. The deadly little pocket of infection slowly collapsed in on itself around the glowing spot until it had all but disappeared, at which point Phlox deactivated the devices again and set them aside. “There we are, Charles, all finished.”

“That barely took two minutes…” Trip began, starting to sit up…and then falling back onto his side with a groan. “Oh…”

“Just don’t move, and keep your eyes closed,” Phlox instructed him. “You may take a little nap, if you like – and I promise, you will wake up exactly as you are now.”

Trip tried to turn his head to look up, but the movement triggered another rush of nausea and he groaned again. Malcolm, to everyone’s surprise, smiled. “I may be able to help with that,” he said. He pried the engineer’s hand away from his stomach and pressed a certain spot between his thumb and forefinger. “Now try it.”

Trip turned his head, gingerly at first and then with more confidence. He turned wide eyes on Malcolm. “How did you…?”

The armory officer snorted and put the hand he was holding back where he’d found it. “It’s a pressure point for halting seasickness – I wouldn’t have survived my family’s vacations very well without it. But it’s just a temporary measure, so stay still and take your nap.”

The engineer made a face at him. “I’m gonna be hearin’ about that for a long time, aren’t I?”

“I promise not to trot it out more than once a week,” Malcolm told him with a wink. “Now I’d best be getting back to the bridge, but I’ll see you later this evening.” He cocked a questioning eyebrow at Phlox. “Should we skip the exercise tonight, Doctor?”

“No, it should be fine,” Phlox assured him. “Although I’d appreciate it if you’d stop by later and tell me what sort of regimen you’ve been following.”

“Certainly, I’ll stop in when my shift is over.” Malcolm patted Trip’s shoulder and then corralled Hoshi. “Come along, Ensign, we’ve had all the break we’re going to get today.”

Hoshi patted Trip’s leg. “I’m glad you’re all right, Trip. We’ll see you at supper tonight.”

“Okay.” Trip lifted his head again. “Thanks guys.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Malcolm told him, and then he smiled. “You taught me that, you know. Now quit stalling and go to sleep like you were told.”

This time it was Trip’s turn to snort, but his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. “Go blow somethin’ up, Mal.”

“Did he just give me permission to destroy something for my own amusement?” Malcolm asked Hoshi, ushering her through the doors and out into the corridor. “You know, I have been wanting to test those missiles again…”

Phlox did not ask T’Pol if she was staying, just perched himself on the edge of the biobed and rubbed his son’s back while she got a suitable chair and made herself comfortable. “Perhaps later this week we could have that very necessary conversation I mentioned earlier?” he offered quietly.

“What was that all about?” Trip wanted to know, opening his eyes again and turning his head to look up at Phlox. “She was just goin’ to…”

“You do not know what she was about to do, and neither did she,” Phlox interrupted him. “I will explain it to you later, sa-athel; it is more important now that you sleep. Not to worry, it is nothing that you should be concerned about.”

Trip blinked at him, then rolled his head back to its original position with a sigh. “Okay, athel-sa.” T’Pol inserted her fingers into his hair and began to rub his scalp, and he sighed again, letting his eyes slide shut with pleasure. “Mmm, that feels nice.”

“I will continue, then,” she told him. “And it is pleasant for me also. Now go to sleep, Charles. I will be here when you awaken.”

Phlox removed himself at that point, dropping a kiss on his son’s temple before he went to put away his devices. He puttered around for several more minutes once things were back in order, watching the tender little tableau with a smile, and then went back to his office and set the router to send all Sickbay communications through his office terminal. He did not want his son disturbed, and he was certain it would not be long before the captain was calling for T’Pol.

Captain Archer sat in his ready room and stared at the wall for a long time. The wall was better than the viewport, staring out the viewport reminded him of all the other times he’d done it and he was starting to feel like the stars were mocking him.

Maybe they were. Or maybe he was going nuts. Maybe it was a good thing his armory officer was watching him after all.

That was the thought that stood him up out of his inertia; you know it’s time to stop stewing when having your crew mutiny sounds like a good idea. He’d looked up Article 41 and seen for himself that Reed hadn’t been exaggerating, so he knew he was going to have to do something about things now, before the situation got any more out of hand. He’d talk to T’Pol about it, maybe she’d have some suggestions. Sure she’d walked off the bridge earlier without his permission, but Archer was positive she’d have a logical reason for doing that – a reason she’d doubtless share with him at first opportunity. He didn’t admit to himself how the incident had thrown him; she was the one predictable thing left in his universe, he depended on T’Pol to be his stability.

Archer also didn’t ask himself whether or not she wanted to be that for him, to be his personal support structure and not just his first officer. He never had asked, he just…expected it and so far she’d never complained, never tried to shirk the responsibility. Well, except when it came to sharing breakfast with him, but not everyone was a breakfast-meeting kind of person so Archer was willing to overlook the excuses she used to get out of joining him in the mornings. He didn’t like it, but he was willing to overlook it.

But then, there wasn’t much he did like these days.

He hit the comm panel to contact Sickbay, planning to call his first officer to his ready room, but to Archer’s surprise Phlox answered from his office instead of over the intercom. He shook it off. “Phlox, is T’Pol still there?”

“Yes.” The doctor interrupted him before he could relay the order, though. “I am afraid I require her presence at the moment, but she should be returning to the bridge in approximately one hour. Perhaps Lieutenant Reed…”

“No.” Okay, that had come out a little too quickly for Archer to sound anything but panicked, but he wasn’t nearly ready to face Reed again. “Tell the Sub-Commander that I want to see her in my ready room immediately, Doctor. Whatever she’s doing down there, she can come back to it.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option,” Phlox countered smoothly, his voice a little cooler than it had been. “One hour, Captain.”

The connection cut off. Archer stared at the silent speaker in disbelief. Just how many people on this ship were in on Reed’s little insubordination play anyway? Most of the command staff of the ship, it seemed. Was Travis? Archer thought about it and decided he couldn’t be sure; he hadn’t really been paying attention to the crew lately except where duty required him to. And the ensign hadn’t been on the bridge this morning, it was his day to work with Astrocartography on their navigational plans. The captain decided he would have to pay closer attention to who was interacting with who, figure out where the connections were.

The main connection, though, he already knew about but couldn’t deal with. It was no coincidence that a mass show of rebellion on the bridge this morning had coincided with Phlox calling Engineering. Calling for the chief engineer? Had to be. And now Phlox was insisting that T’Pol was needed in Sickbay for another hour, which he had to guess meant Tucker would be in there that long too. So T’Pol was doing something with Tucker…that neuropressure thing? He was going to be very upset with Phlox if the doctor was denying him access to his first officer just so she could give someone a massage.

An hour really wasn’t that long, it wasn’t really an emergency…but Archer told himself it was the principle of the thing and slammed out of his ready room to march down to Sickbay.

Archer wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he stalked through the frosted double doors, but it wasn’t to find T’Pol sitting beside a sleeping Tucker and carding her fingers through his hair. She looked meditative, and that irritated him even more. “I need you in my ready room,” he ordered quietly but firmly.

She just looked at him. “I believe the doctor told you I would return to the bridge in one hour.”

He grimaced. “He said he needed you, that you were doing something important.” He waved a hand at the situation. “This isn’t important.”

“On the contrary, it is.” T’Pol’s voice was cool, but for a Vulcan the faint inflections in her tone said she was all but snapping at him and he knew it. “And I am aware of no emergency which requires my presence on the bridge at this time.”

Archer stiffened, drawing himself up. “I gave you an order, Sub-Commander.”

“I will obey it – in one hour, when Charles has been released from Sickbay to return to his duties,” she countered. “Until that time you may either remain here or return to the bridge to await my arrival.”

“He can return to the bridge,” Phlox qualified, coming into the room and nodding to Archer before checking the display over Tucker’s biobed. “Finding the captain here when he awakens would be a horrible shock for Charles, I simply can’t allow it.”

The captain really didn’t want to stay there either, but his stubborn streak was kicking into high gear and he wasn’t about to let someone dictate to him on his own ship. “He’s going to have to get over it,” Archer snapped. “This mission doesn’t get put on hold just because he’s still wallowing in self pity.”

He hadn’t yelled, but he hadn’t bothered to keep his voice low either and Tucker stirred restlessly in his sleep. The captain’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline when Phlox began to rub the sleeping engineer’s back and leaned over to murmur something in his ear. T’Pol hadn’t moved, but the look she gave her captain was frosty enough to put icicles on him. “Your assessment of the situation is faulty,” she informed him.

Archer was taken aback. “Excuse me? He’s asleep, you’re just sitting there playing with his hair. And he’s been wallowing ever since…”

“Ever since we killed him?” Phlox finished for him dryly. A slight smile quirked one corner of his mouth when Archer winced. “You knew he’d retained his cloned memories, Captain, and yet you told no one – and I discovered less than an hour ago that he firmly believed that should anything go ‘wrong’ you would simply order me to repeat the cloning procedure until we got it right.” Something hardened in his pale blue eyes, something intense enough, strong enough to make Archer uneasy. “He is convinced that only thing you value about him is the engineering knowledge which makes him necessary to the mission – and which we now know can be preserved through cloning.”

“He expressed a similar sentiment to me last night when I inquired about his well-being,” T’Pol added. “I expressed concern that he was not sleeping, and he informed me that he would go back to taking sedatives if it became necessary as the eventual outcome was no longer important.”

All right, the look in T’Pol’s eyes was one Archer had seen before, just not directed at him: contempt. It sometimes amazed him that a race priding itself on repressing emotion apparently didn’t extend that to the expression of negative feelings unless they felt like it. He didn’t have a good answer for her, though – he wasn’t sure there was an answer for that, good or not, and so turned his attention back to Phlox. “What did you call him down here for anyway?”

The words came out harsh, much harsher than he meant them or even than he’d meant to say them, and Archer couldn’t help but cringe a little when Phlox fixed him with a hard blue eye. “A localized infection in the transplanted tissue,” the doctor said coldly. “The pressure from the abscess was causing severe headaches and frequent dizzy spells. I was able to repair the damage and relieve the pressure, but the aftereffects of the intracranial procedure necessitated he remain in Sickbay for a time so that I could monitor his recovery.”

Archer had gone a little pale. “Will he be all right?”

“He will be back on duty within the hour.” Phlox hardened even more. “And never fear, I did inquire before I asked him to leave his duties and he informed me that there was nothing going on in Engineering which his staff could not handle on their own.”

“He has been inordinately concerned with fulfilling his duties to the best of his ability,” T’Pol added, “as it was made so clear to him that the performance of those duties is the only reason for his continued existence.”

Archer thought he saw a flash of not-so-cold satisfaction in her eyes when he couldn’t help but react to that, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it because Phlox was already talking again. “You certainly made an impression on him over the course of his life,” the doctor said. “I believe one can only describe the effect you had as nightmarish. But all that is at an end now.”

“It is,” T’Pol agreed. “Such…incidents will not be permitted to happen again.”

They were both staring at him, all but bristling with hostility, and Archer suddenly came to the disturbing realization that they were both aliens – not that he hadn’t known they were aliens before, but he really hadn’t felt it until this moment. And that scared him. He’d thought he knew them, but now…now he didn’t think he did at all, and he suddenly didn’t know what either of them was thinking or what they might do.

And, with an icy burst of cold reality that shattered the last of the denial he’d been working so hard to maintain, he realized that these two aliens were protecting another human…from him. That his behavior had been so horribly, shockingly wrong that even a non-human was unable to accept it.

Trip hadn’t been wallowing in self-pity like Archer had been lying to himself about; he’d been so thoroughly traumatized that he’d simply withdrawn completely –so thoroughly traumatized that he’d been planning to kill himself once the mission was over. Archer shuddered, feeling the cold sink into him in deep, painful places; he’d all but told Trip to go ahead and do it, let his former best friend know by his silence that his life had no value once his special knowledge of the Warp 5 engine wasn’t necessary any more. Nightmarish, Phlox had said. Did that mean some of Trip’s nightmares were now about him instead of the Xindi?

Phlox was talking again. “I believe it is time for you to leave, Captain,” he was saying, with a glance at the biobed’s readings again. “It appears that even when he is unconscious you are able to disturb Charles, and I cannot allow that, as a doctor or as a father. I will escort the captain out,” he told T’Pol, who nodded. “I will be back in short order – and please remember our earlier conversation, watch the placement of your hands.”

She nodded again and re-focused her attention on Tucker with a look that was full of feeling, so full Archer sucked in a shocked breath. But before he could comment Phlox was already taking him by the arm and half-dragging him out of Sickbay and into the corridor. “Hey! I can see myself out…”

“You and I need to have words,” Phlox informed him, using the hold he had on Archer’s arm to back him against the bulkhead. “I did not want you in Sickbay any longer, so we will have them here and when I’m finished with you then you can remove yourself.”

The doctor had let go of him, but Archer could tell just by his body language that any attempt to move away was probably going to be met with violence – and he didn’t really know how much stronger than him the Denobulan might be, another one of those things Lieutenant Reed would probably say he should have been paying attention to all this time but hadn’t. It was too late now. He still felt he had to try to reassert his authority, though. “Doctor Phlox, you’re out of line,” he growled, as harshly as he could.

To his dismay, Phlox smiled at him. “As chief physician of Enterprise, I would be,” he replied. “But I am not speaking to you as an officer of this ship, I’m speaking to you as Charles’ father.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that, and I still don’t understand what you’re talking about!” Archer snapped. Getting angry was so much easier, it made him feel more in control and less afraid – it had been working pretty well for him since the Xindi attack. “I know you got attached to Sim, but he’s dead and Trip isn’t him.”

“On the contrary, Charles was him,” the doctor corrected witheringly. “They were his memories and they still are, it was his life and it still is. It was even his death, and he remembers it quite well – including his own funeral, which you insisted he attend in spite of the fact that he was barely recovered enough to be allowed out of Sickbay, much less to return to duty. And under Denobulan law – which Starfleet requires you to respect with regards to me – he is my son. And as such I have every right to have this conversation with you, and to insist that you comply with my demands on this matter.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed; it seemed like a lot of people had the ‘right’ to dictate to him today. “And those would be?”

“First and foremost, you will have a talk with Charles, at a time I deem appropriate,” Phlox told him. “I will not be present, but I will be watching and I will record the conversation to be used as evidence if and only if future circumstances warrant.”

All right, that was a surprise. He hadn’t expected that. “Blackmail, Doctor?”

Phlox snorted. “Hardly – insurance, you might call it. The recording will be destroyed once the mission has been completed and we are back in contact with Starfleet and my own people. In this conversation you will inform Charles that you have no intention of killing him…”

Oh god, he’d been right. Nightmares, anyone? “I don’t!”

“…and that you do not believe he only has value because of his knowledge of the Warp 5 engine,” the doctor continued as though Archer hadn’t spoken at all. “You will also apologize to him for your behavior throughout this situation and assure him that you have realized your error and will immediately begin correcting things for the good of your crew as well as the good of the mission.” Pale blue eyes bored into his. “And you will not be lying to him, will you, Captain?”

“At least you remember my rank even if you don’t understand what it means,” Archer spat out. “And no, I won’t be lying; things have gotten out of control around here and I have to fix that if we’re going to complete this mission. But if you think he’ll just let it go because I say I’m sorry…”

“He won’t,” Phlox interrupted again. “He can’t, you’ve done too much damage and your personal relationship with him is unsalvageable. If you are sincere the explanation and apology should return your professional relationship to a workable state, however, which is necessary for obvious reasons. I seriously doubt it will reduce his fear of you very much, though. It will take time for the nightmares to cease, if they ever fully do – fears imprinted in childhood tend to have more permanence than those gained as an adult.”

Archer froze, his bolstering anger draining away, his still-narrowed eyes widening. All thoughts of asserting his authority vanished in the face of a sudden need to know the details he’d deliberately ignored. “How long has he been…dreaming about me trying to kill him?”

“There is no trying about it.” The captain winced, but Phlox didn’t soften at all. “As he grew older and remembered more of you, the nightmares became more detailed – disturbingly so in some instances, such as the ones that involved you removing the transplant tissue yourself by force. It still amazes me that he did not run away screaming when he entered Sickbay and saw you standing beside the bed that day.” A trace of a snarl twitched at one corner of the doctor’s mouth. “You will recall, I requested that you not be present at that time, but you would not listen to me.”

“No, I guess I didn’t.” Archer swallowed, tasting bile at the back of his throat and knowing he wouldn’t be eating dinner tonight with the images that were now running around in his head. Changing the subject was suddenly a necessity. “Is that why T’Pol is here, to help with the nightmares?” He knew it had to be more than that, because what his first officer had been doing in Sickbay certainly hadn’t been Vulcan neuropressure, but he really didn’t expect Phlox to give him an answer if he asked flat out if Trip and T’Pol were involved somehow. He’d been suspecting something was going on between them, and on at least one occasion right here in Sickbay he hadn’t exactly made a secret of the fact that he didn’t like it.

Not that he’d liked much of anything lately – not even himself.

Phlox accepted the new topic, although Archer had a feeling that had more to do with him wanting to move on to more of his demands than it did with him not wanting to see his captain throw up. “She came to support him through what was a very stressful and frightening re-entry into Sickbay, and stayed to reassure him so that he could rest,” the doctor stated flatly. “And yes, since I know you are trying not to ask, their relationship is moving beyond the bounds of friendship, and you will not interfere with them. You have done so in the past, whether out of jealousy or the pursuit of your obsession I neither know nor care, but you will not do so again. From this point on, when T’Pol and Charles are off duty you will not disturb them unless it is an emergency – an actual emergency, not a hunch or an idea or simply a need to rant at someone in an attempt to ease your own mind.” He smiled that disturbing smile again at Archer’s startled look. “There is very little you can hide from me, Captain. I am well aware of the reason you wanted the sub-commander to attend you just now, I had even anticipated that you would be calling and routed Sickbay’s communications through my office to prevent you from disturbing my son.”

Archer swallowed, feeling transparent and not liking it much. His father had made him feel that way a lot, and it was something he didn’t miss. “I didn’t want to disturb him, I just needed to talk to T’Pol. She did leave the bridge without a word earlier.”

“I doubt you would have allowed her to leave if she had followed protocol and asked permission,” the doctor told him. “I will repeat, you are not to interfere with what is happening. The sub-commander is entering puberty and is quickly approaching the stage where being denied access to her mate could have severe repercussions.” He actually laughed at the expression on Archer’s face. “Of course, you didn’t notice that either, did you? An adult Vulcan could not and would not serve on a ship full of humans, so they sent you a child instead – a teenager, if you would have it in human terms. I’m sure even you can see the insult inherent in that, in spite of the fact that T’Pol grew into her place here so well.”

“T’Pol…is a teenager. A teenager about to go through puberty.” Archer was having a hard time wrapping his mind around it, and the whole ‘alien’ concept was raising its head again and laughing at him much the same way Phlox just had. “And she chose Trip to be her mate…” His eyes narrowed again, this time suspiciously. “Or did you have something to do with that, Doctor?”

“My matchmaking would have had no effect if there had not already been a connection there.” Phlox’ smile softened, as did his eyes. “And my son is a fine catch, if I do say so myself. Charles will be a good bond-mate for her, and perhaps becoming part of our family will be some consolation for losing her own, as it is for him.” This time the doctor didn’t laugh when Archer looked startled. Instead he arched an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “So you also did not know that my son’s human family had rejected him as well, hmm? I only knew that you did not care enough to even ask if he needed time away from his duties for the memorial services his parents forbade him to attend in the interest of ‘keeping peace in the family’.”

Archer only thought he’d felt like a monster before – and he apparently had the rest of the Tucker family for company. It was hard to believe they would push Trip away…well, like he had, which made it even worse. He grasped for the only shred of consolation he could see. “But he still had you, he talked to you.”

“When the memories returned, yes. But when it actually happened, he had no one. They did not even send him a farewell message before we were out of contact with Earth.” Phlox was starting to bristle again. “You’re thinking yourself a monster right now, Captain, and you would be right. You threw away the friendship and loyalty of a fine young man over a petty tantrum, and then you compounded that by neglecting even those responsibilities toward him which he was owed as an officer under your command. In short, you used him as your own personal focus point for all the frustration and resentment you were feeling, for all your anger at being forced to make decisions you would rather not have been burdened with and having to take on responsibilities you were not sure you were equal to upholding. It is a pity it was ineffective, isn’t it? That you sacrificed your best friend, a man who would have died or killed for you, for such a fleeting, petty indulgence? In fact, for nothing?”

Nothing. The word hung in the air; Archer almost thought he could see it, feel it. The emptiness inside of him was even deeper than it had been that day in the shuttlebay, and it hurt. It was the place where his friend had been, where his dog had been, where the relationships he’d fought so hard to establish with Malcolm, T’Pol, Hoshi and Travis had been before he’d burned them all away. He slumped back against the bulkhead, feeling the unwelcoming coldness of it push through his uniform as though even the ship didn’t want anything to do with him. “How can I fix this?” he murmured, more to himself than to Phlox. “I can’t fix it, can I?”

“Not all of it, no.” Phlox moved away from him, distancing himself both physically and emotionally. “Your relationship with my son is, as I have said, beyond repair. So is your relationship with me, and I doubt you will ever regain the sort of rapport you had with the rest of your command staff again either. But you can grow up now, stop acting like a spoiled child and give your crew back the captain they thought they were following into the Expanse on a noble mission to save Earth.” In spite of the warmth of his words, the doctor’s voice held the same chill as the bulkhead. “You were someone they respected then, someone they trusted and put their faith and the hopes of all they held dear in. Now they believe they are in the hands of a madman who would think nothing of throwing away any of their lives, who even turned his back on his best friend during one of the most difficult periods in his life, leaving him completely alone.” He straightened, standing almost at attention. “That is my final demand, Captain. Fix as much of your mistake as you can so that we can finish this mission and I can take my son home to heal – so that all the sons and daughters here whose lives you were entrusted with can return to their families and heal as well. You’ve marked them all, indelibly, irrevocably – I believe the least you can do to make amends is to make sure you do not mark them again.”

Archer didn’t realize the doctor had gone back into Sickbay until the doors whooshed closed, a dismissal of sorts. With a sigh he started the long walk back to his ready room, contemplating the massive, impossible task he had in front of him: that of finding the man he had been and trying to remember how to be him again in the Expanse…and after.

If there was an after, that was. For any of them.

TBC

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Seven people have made comments

Thanks to everyone who left feedback for the story so far! Sorry it took this one sooo long to get finished, Chapter 9 should be done quicker. ;)

I do not like your Archer. But I do like this story and the family you've created for Trip. You've taken things to extremes but in a very cool agnsty Trip tale that works for me!!!

Oh I am so looking forward to the Phlox/T'Pol talk!!!!

I must say that there are a few things in this chapter I am having difficulty in accepting. As much as I have never been a fan of Archers and do find his behaviour at times a bit questionable I feel that you are being very harsh with his character. I'm also having difficulty with Phlox treating Trip like his son. Spending 15 days with someone harldly qualifies as being a parent. Phlox also turned away from Trip for several weeks but yet he feels he can dictate to Archer as to how his "son" is to be treated. Why should he tell Archer that their former friendship could never be fixed. If Archer truley wants to make up to Trip why should Phlox tell him he cannot.?? Tpol a teenager at 65, even with Vulcans living considerably longer than Humans. I always thought Trip was very close to his family and again I'm surprised that they could blame him for Lizzies death and not want him to come to the funeral. I have though enjoyed your outlook on this and look forward to your next chapter.

ohhh, very bad Archer. GREAT STORY.
Can't wait for next chapter

Wow! It just gets better and better! I like how Phlox is acknowledging his father-figure status to Trip. I really like Evil Archer! It is exactly how I've viewed his behavior this last season! Please, PLEASE update!

I haven't really cared for TPTB's remake of Archer's personality for this season, but you've managed to portray him as what I'd mildly refer to as a hate-worthy sonuvabitch. **claps wildly** Bravo!!!!! Nice to see him put into his place by the others. I can't wait to see final outcome of your story...

I've just caught up with this one and it amazes me that we watched the same episode but came away with such different opinions. But that's the joy of fan fiction. Although I cringe at your depiction of Archer (I'm a HUGE supporter of the Archer/Trip friendship), I do like how you've captured the others rallying around Trip. Again, I came away from watching Similitude with a MUCH different take but I do have to say this is beautifully written and very powerful. Thank you for sharing it with us!