The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea- Chapter 10

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by Sita Z

Disclaimers in Chapter 1

****

Chapter 10

People die at night. Malcolm knew the saying, and his heart clenched at the thought that the proverb might well be proven true this very night. The crisis had come so suddenly Malcolm still had trouble believing this was really happening. Less than an hour ago he'd been woken up by a call from Hoshi who told him that Trip had just suffered another severe metabolic collapse. She'd been on the bridge, pulling a double-shift when Phlox had called, telling the Captain to come down to sickbay immediately. Trip had suffered a shock. Archer had left without another word, and even though there hadn't really been a reason for her to wake Malcolm, since there were still enough personnel left on the bridge, Malcolm was glad she'd done so. He'd rather stay awake all night, aware of what was going on, instead of waking up in the morning and having to face the worst of news.

Ensign Hsan from night shift had thrown him a compassionate glance when he'd shown up, with mussed hair and slightly puffy eyes from sleeping, but she'd left the station without a word. Ever since, Malcolm had been staring down at the displays without really seeing them, waiting for and at the same time dreading the chirp of the intercom.

Four days ago, shortly after the news about the doctor's experimental serum had given them a glimmer of hope, the child had finally begun to detach itself from Trip's pericardium. Phlox had been overjoyed at the news, saying that this might very well be Commander Tucker's only hope, and together with the rest of the crew Malcolm had allowed himself to gain new confidence. Maybe Trip wasn't going to die. Maybe luck was on their side, after all, and everything would miraculously turn out alright.

Malcolm bit his lip, casting a furtive glance at Hoshi who was still sitting motionlessly in her chair. He knew she'd called him because she needed a friend near while waiting for news, but he had no idea what to do or say to make her feel better. She would see through it immediately if he tried to offer her empty assurances that everything was going to be alright, and what else was there to say? Hoshi knew as well as Malcolm that things didn't look good. Not at all.

When Phlox had first injected Trip with the serum two days ago, the substance hadn't taken much effect. The doctor had said something about a glycolytic stabilization, but there was no visible sign of improvement. Trip was still unconscious, still as pale and weak as he had been before the injection. Malcolm knew the doctor had started working on a variation of the serum, one that would act faster and take a more radical effect, but the substance was still in its experimental phase. And the way things had developed, it seemed that Phlox would never get the chance to put it to use.

A small noise made him look up again. Hoshi had leaned forward in her chair, propping both her elbows on the console and resting her forehead in her hands. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the lines around her mouth, visible even from his place across the bridge. She had clearly been working to the point of sheer exhaustion. He hesitated, wondering if she would listen if he ordered her to go to her quarters and get some rest. Probably not. He'd just decided to try, anyway, when Hoshi opened her eyes, looking straight at him as if she had felt his eyes on her.

"You think I should call sickbay?" Her voice sounded hoarse with tiredness. It was a resigned question, and Malcolm knew what she was thinking. Maybe it was over already, and in his grief Archer had forgotten to inform his officers. Or had simply not been able to call the bridge, to tell them that Trip was dead. He shook his head.

"T'Pol's with them," he said. "She would have called if there had been any... changes."

Hoshi let out a deep sigh that sounded almost like a sob, but Malcolm noticed that her eyes were dry. She probably didn't even have the strength left to cry. With an effort Malcolm hadn't known he was capable of, he forced a smile onto his face.

"No news is good news, Ensign," he said. "Why don't you go get some sleep. You look like you need it."

Hoshi closed her eyes again. "You think he's going to die?"

Although her voice sounded calm, Malcolm knew that this was not the rational, self-confident communications officer talking. Hoshi was on the verge of collapsing with exhaustion, and she only asked this question so he could find reasons to tell her not to give up hope. So she could hear aloud what she was trying to tell herself in silence.

"Maybe Phlox will find a way to help him. He's stabilized him the first time when this happened, so maybe he'll manage again. As I said, no news is good news." Malcolm paused briefly. "Hoshi, why don't you-"

The comm station's speaker gave a small chirp. "Archer to the bridge."

Malcolm watched Hoshi reach out to press the intercom button, and became aware of hard knot sitting in his throat. He didn't want to hear this, didn't want to sit and wait helplessly for what Archer was going to say next.

"Commander Tucker..." Malcolm heard Archer swallow, and closed his eyes. Just say it. "... Commander Tucker's condition has stabilized. The new serum has shown effect. The imminent crisis is over."

Malcolm opened his eyes, and saw Hoshi's lips curve upward in a smile. It seemed to hold all the relief that suddenly filled his chest, a relief so deep it almost brought tears to his eyes.

"Will - will he make it, sir?" Hoshi asked, and there was a short pause before Archer answered.

"Phlox cannot give a longer-term prognosis, but at the moment Trip's out of danger. His metabolism has stabilized, and his body is reacting to the glycogen injections Phlox administered a few minutes ago. It – it was a close call, though." Archer's voice still sounded a little unsteady. "I've got to get back now. Archer out."

Hoshi cut the connection, and looked up. For a moment she looked as if she wanted to say something, but then she simply leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. Malcolm felt a broad smile spread on his face. He knew exactly how she felt.

###

When Archer turned back from the intercom, T'Pol noticed that his hands were still shaking. She followed him with her eyes as he returned to stand next to her at the Commander's bedside, scrutinizing him for other signs of physical discomfort. But aside from the Captain's visible exhaustion there were none.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow, returning her attention to the readings on the bioscreen. Human behavior during a crisis was certainly confusing. When the Commander's breathing had stopped, Phlox administering injection after injection to stabilize Tucker's broken-down metabolism, Archer had watched calmly and stony-faced, showing no sign of anxiety or agitation. If his eyes hadn't been fixed on the Commander's thin face, one might have assumed that none of this really concerned him.

The moment Phlox had announced, however, that Tucker was out of danger, the Captain had sat down hard on his chair, covered his face with his hands and had stayed that way for a long time. T'Pol did not understand why receiving good news would cause an emotional reaction and watching a friend struggle with death would not, but it was clear that the tears had only come to Archer's eyes when Phlox told him that Tucker was not going to die.

T'Pol would not have been quite honest, claiming she had not been worried herself. Although it was not seemly for a Vulcan to let her emotions show, T'Pol had no wish to witness the young Commander die. In fact, she knew that his death would have caused her deep regret. Why that would be so, she did not know. T'Pol was not used to deal with such irrational sentiments, and so she decided to simply accept the facts without pondering too much on possible reasons.

"Captain." Phlox' voice interrupted her musings. T'Pol could never really tell from the doctor's unique inflection what mood he was expressing, but at the moment she had the distinct impression that he was agitated. In a positive way. "Look at this."

Archer and T'Pol both stepped closer, looking at the reading Phlox was pointing at. T'Pol immediately realized what had caught the doctor's attention, and raised an eyebrow. Archer, however, was clearly confused.

"Is there something wrong, doc?"

"On the contrary." Phlox smiled broadly, and T'Pol felt a twinge of excitement before she was able to suppress the emotion. This was indeed very good news.

"Look at the Commander's vital readings, Captain." Phlox pointed at pulse rate and blood pressure whose indicators were slowly approaching the areas marked as normal. "They're stabilizing a lot faster than I assumed." Phlox' smile grew even broader. "The serum is showing more of an effect than I expected it to."

T'Pol didn't hear the Captain's reply. Her eyes had come to rest on the sleeping man's face, and her excitement of before doubled when she noticed a faint but distinctive movement underneath the Commander's eyelids.

"Captain!" T'Pol fought for a neutral tone of voice. "I believe the Commander is waking up."

"What?" The Captain and Phlox both turned around. That moment the man on the bed gave a small, hoarse cough, turned his head to the other side and opened his eyes. At first, Tucker seemed slightly disoriented; his eyes wouldn't focus and he blinked several times as if to clear his vision. Then, however, his eyes came to rest on the Captain, and the hazy look gave way to an expression of surprise.

"Cap'n..." His voice failed, and he coughed again, lifting a shaky hand but not quite succeeding in bringing it to his mouth. "What happened?"

Archer smiled, and T'Pol heard him swallow before he answered. "You gave us quite a scare, Trip. But Dr. Phlox found a way to help you. You're gonna be alright."

Tucker's eyes widened at these words, and T'Pol realized that something Archer had said had frightened him badly. Moving slowly and clumsily, he tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but Phlox gently pushed him back down.

"Take it easy, Commander. You've suffered a severe metabolic shock, and your body is still adjusting to the injections I gave you." Tucker opened his mouth, but Phlox continued before he could say something. "Your child has not been harmed."

Only a few weeks earlier the Commander would have protested if anyone had referred to the baby as "his" child, but at the moment he didn't seem to have the strength left to do so. His eyes closed for a moment, then opened again, and this time they held no fear or confusion anymore.

"How long have I been out?" he asked.

"You have been unconscious for eleven days, Commander," Phlox said.

Tucker stared at him. "Eleven days?" he repeated incredulously. "It didn't feel that long."

"You were unconscious ever since your metabolism collapsed for the first time," Phlox said, glancing at the screen above the bed. "It will please you to hear that four days ago the child has started to detach itself from your pericardium." He looked back at his patient. "The process is now almost complete."

Tucker's features relaxed slightly. "How is she?"

"Alive and kicking, as you would say." The doctor smiled, and glancing at the bio monitor T'Pol saw that the child was indeed awake and moving. Tucker grimaced, but there was no mistaking the expression of relief that crossed his face at the doctor's words. Again, he tried to sit up, and Phlox quickly adjusted the upper part of the bed so that the Commander sat slightly propped up. When Tucker took a first look at his swollen abdomen, his eyes widened.

"That... it... it wasn't that – big before," he finished rather helplessly, and T'Pol noticed that he distinctly avoided looking at her or the Captain. Phlox smiled at the surprise in his tone.

"Yes, as I told the Captain a few days ago, we can deem ourselves fortunate that the child has sunk further down. Otherwise I might have been forced to remove some of your ribs." Tucker blanched slightly, but the doctor went on as if nothing had happened. "And you are right, Commander, the child has rather grown in size during the last ten days. It is now almost as big as a human child at the end of the ninth month."

There was a short pause. For some reason, T'Pol noticed, Archer was looking rather uncomfortable, exchanging a brief glance with the doctor, then staring down at his hands. The Commander looked from Phlox to the Captain. He seemed to have noticed as well.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Come on, there's something you're not tellin' me."

The doctor raised his eyebrows in a not very convincing gesture of surprise. "Everything's fine, Commander." He checked on the monitor again, and T'Pol saw his back stiffen in a way she did not like. As the doctor was standing at the head of the bed, however, Tucker did not notice. "Why don't you try and get some rest. Your metabolism is still adjusting to the new hormones, and it would do you good."

Tucker groaned. "Doc, I've been sleepin' for eleven days. Why can't I-"

"I said rest, Commander, not sleep." Phlox looked at T'Pol, and she read the silent message in his eyes. There was indeed something the doctor was not telling. "Subcommander, would you mind staying with Commander Tucker while I have a brief word with the Captain?"

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. She would have preferred to be also informed about whatever difficulty had arisen, but realized that it was necessary not to upset the Commander. And leaving him alone in the room in order to have a secret conference next door would certainly end in that very result.

"Of course, doctor," she said. The Commander frowned, this time looking at Archer.

"Jon, what is it? Why can't you talk in here?"

The Captain briefly laid a hand on Tucker's shoulder, for means of reassurance, T'Pol supposed. "I'll be right back, Trip. Don't you worry."

"What's that supposed to-" But Archer and Phlox had already disappeared into an adjoining room, the door sliding shut behind them. Tucker lay back on his pillow, the frown still creasing his forehead.

"D'you have any idea what that was all about?"

"No," T'Pol said truthfully, realizing that she would have to think of something to keep the Commander's mind off whatever it was the Captain and the doctor were discussing. "Would you like something to drink, Commander? Your throat seems to be rather dry."

Tucker licked his chapped lips, and once again T'Pol noticed how thin he looked. His usually healthy complexion was pallid, his eyes sunken, and the tubes inserted in his arms only served to underline his emaciated appearance. T'Pol felt a brief surge of unease when she remembered how close he had been to death only seventy minutes ago, and how quickly his condition could change again. Clearly, not everything was "alright" as the doctor had claimed. Tucker seemed to have noticed her eyes on him, and averted his gaze, obviously embarrassed.

"Yeah, some water would be nice, thanks."

T'Pol got up, turning her eyes away so as not to cause him any further discomfort. She fetched the water, then sat down on the chair next to the bed while he sipped the cold liquid.

"So... anythin' happened while I was out?"

T'Pol briefly considered asking him if he considered his own untimely demise to count among "anything", but then decided against it. She didn't want to come across as unfeeling, and this was certainly not the right moment to start a verbal repartee.

"Three days ago, we came across a nebula the Captain found rather intriguing, and dropped to impulse speed in order to explore it. Ensign Mayweather and Lieutenant Reed took a shuttle inside, but their scans did not show any significant deviations from the scans I took using the ship's instruments. They discovered, however, a certain form of microorganisms living inside the gas clouds, and I requested the Captain we stay for another week in order to explore them. After that, we will resume our previous course."

Usually, Tucker would have wanted to know more about the microorganisms, would have asked her if the away team had taken any pictures of the nebula's inside, but at the moment there seemed to be other things on his mind. Not, T'Pol mused, that this was very surprising.

"T'Pol..." he began, and she noticed a certain hesitation in his tone.

"Yes, Commander?"

"That metabolic shock Phlox was talkin' about... he didn't expect me to survive, did he?"

He looked at her, and T'Pol knew that he would see through it immediately if she tried telling him what humans called "a little white lie". She forced herself to hold his gaze.

"The doctor did everything he could, Commander, but your odds of surviving were not very high. He said it was a rather fortunate coincidence that the new serum took such quick effect. Otherwise your body probably wouldn't have been able to cope with the strain."

He nodded slowly, not displaying any particular emotions at the revelation.

"But you need not worry, Commander," she added, feeling some kind of reassurance was in order. "The doctor said you are out of danger."

"For the moment." His eyes were calm when he said it, and T'Pol didn't know what to respond. The Commander was very receptive of moods, and of course he had noticed that something was awry. She did not know whether his controlled reaction was a good or a bad sign.

"Commander, maybe you should do as the doctor advised you, and try to rest for a while."

He shook his head. "Not right now." Again his eyes came to rest on her, and now it was her turn to feel slightly uncomfortable under his gaze. She didn't know what to make of his behavior, and hoped that it had nothing to do with the substances he'd been given. But no, she decided. The doctor would have informed her if the serum had any effect on the Commander's psyche.

"Can I ask you somethin', Subcommander?"

His question came as a surprise to her, and she raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want to know, Commander?"

"That time in the armory..." He hesitated. "You know, when... when they were talkin' about me."

"I remember the occasion, Commander."

"Yeah... right." Again he paused. "Guess I never really thanked you for comin' to my aid. I – I appreciated that."

She let her eyebrow climb even higher. "No thanks are necessary, Commander. I only did what was my duty as senior crewmember and first officer of this ship."

"I know." For once, he did not object to her attempt at finding logical explanations for her actions. "I was just wonderin'... when I first came back from the Xyrillian ship, you..."

He trailed off, but T'Pol knew what he'd been about to ask. She had hoped this question would not arise, but she had been expecting it. It wasn't the Commander's way to leave any questions unasked, and he was justified in asking, after all.

"You want to know why I first expressed a rather harsh criticism of your behavior aboard the alien ship, and later defended you against the accusations I had previously voiced myself?"

"Well," he smiled, "I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes, I guess that was what I wanted to ask."

T'Pol suppressed a sigh. It wasn't easy for her to explain her behavior, since she didn't really understand it herself. It came too close to an emotional reaction, and she hated to think that she had succumbed to such irrationality.

"When I first learned of what had happened, I did not believe you. I assumed – basing on an interpretation of your character which I later realized to be fallacious – you had engaged in some kind of... romance, and were now trying to cover up your lapse by claiming you had not known what was going on." She did not wait for his reaction, and continued, "When the Captain told us, however, how the Xyrillians treated you, I found myself forced to reconsider. If they reacted that illogically to the situation, your version of the events might well be the truth, and she – the woman in question – might have actually committed the even more illogical act of convincing you to... engage in sexual activity under false pretenses. Then you refused to undergo the abortion in order to save the life of another being, fully aware of the fact that this decision might have fatal consequences for yourself." She paused. "It is one of the most important Vulcan principles to preserve life no matter at what cost. I realized that I had misjudged you. So when Ensigns Crane and Barrie spoke of your situation in what I deemed to be a very disrespectful manner, I felt the need to intervene, and put a stop to the false accusations being raised against you."

Tucker didn't answer immediately, and T'Pol interpreted his silence as disapproval.

"Commander, if I have in any way intruded into your privacy by-"

"No!" He held up a hand. "No, you didn't. You know, I'm glad you told me. Actually..." Again he hesitated, and T'Pol found herself slightly confused. Usually the Commander spoke his mind right away, and "to hell with the consequences", as he would have said. Now, however, he seemed to have difficulties finding the words for what he was going to say.

"Actually there's somethin' else I wanted to ask you."

She waited, mutely indicating that he should go on. He bit his lip.

"You know, I've been thinkin'. What happened before, that... metabolic shock, it could happen again. Hell, I have no idea if I'll even survive until..." He gestured at the bulge protruding from under the blanket, and T'Pol understood.

"Until you come to term."

He nodded. "Right. And I don't know if I'll survive that. The... the birth, I mean." He swallowed, but T'Pol realized he hadn't yet finished his say. She kept silent, waiting for him to continue. Tucker sighed.

"I don't really know how to say this. You know, in the beginnin' I didn't care what happened to her. The baby. I decided not to... to undergo that operation, but that was mostly because I couldn't live with the thought of me bein' responsible for another person's death. At that time..." Again he paused, then continued very quietly, "at that time, if she had died for some reason, I... I wouldn't have minded. I – sometimes I wished for it to happen."

T'Pol heard the shame in his voice, and even though she managed to keep her voice neutral when she spoke, she found herself having difficulties suppressing her emotions. She knew she wasn't able to offer the Commander the comfort he needed, and she found herself experiencing regret at that fact. The only thing she could do, however, was simply state the facts, hoping it might help him on a rational level, if not on an emotional one.

"It is understandable, Commander. You were in a very difficult situation. No one could expect you to have... parental feelings for the child."

He let out a small laugh. "Parental feelings, huh? Strange you would say so. You know, only a week later or so, I noticed I... I did have some feelings of that kind. Didn't know what to make of it, so I mostly ignored it, but... when Phlox told me he'd have to operate, after all... I realized I didn't want that. It woulda been the perfect excuse, she bein' a danger to my life, and all. But... somehow I couldn't let it happen."

T'Pol didn't know what to say. She wished she could have provided some kind of comfort, or reassurance, but she simply didn't know how humans reacted in situations like this. So she sat, and listened, and to her slight surprise noticed that Tucker didn't seem to expect her to do anything else.

"I know there's the possibility that I... won't be around after she's born. But someone needs to take care of her. And... well..." He looked at her with a strange expression in his eyes, and a moment later T'Pol realized in dismay that a human would probably have called it "pleading". "I wanted to ask you if you'd... look after her in case I don't survive."

For a moment, T'Pol sat perfectly still. She had been surprised that he would confide his private feelings in her, but she had never expected him to ask her this question.

"Commander," she began, careful to keep her face neutral, "I am honored that you would place such trust in me. But... why would you ask me? And not the Captain, for example? I assumed he is what humans call your "best friend"."

"He is," Tucker said quietly. "And I trust him just the same. I know he would do it if I asked him, and I know he would do just great. Same with Phlox, or Malcolm, for that matter. But..." Again he hesitated. "Jon's a starship captain. He isn't goin' to give up his job one day, and return to Earth. He wants to continue this mission, as long as Starfleet will let him do so. I... I don't want to stop him from doin' what he wanted to do all his life. And it's gonna be difficult. That incident in the armory... these things are gonna happen all the time. I know you can deal with that. You don't care what people say, you just do what you think right. You'd never blame her for what they'll say, not even subconsciously." He looked up. "That's why I'm askin' you. So... would you?"

There was only one logical answer to give, and if it wasn't all that logical after all, then for once T'Pol didn't care. "I promise, Commander, that I will care for your child in case you do not survive."

She didn't say anything else – Vulcans avoided getting overly emotional, and T'Pol didn't intend to break that rule – but it seemed to be good enough for Tucker. He smiled briefly, and to her relief made no move to engage in any human gestures of emotional display.

"Thank you, T'Pol. It means a lot to know that."

Once again, it seemed that silence was the only answer she could give, and the Commander didn't seem to expect anything else. Leaning back on his bed, he closed his eyes, and left T'Pol to muse in wonder on what had just happened.

###

"What is it, doc?"

Phlox' face was very serious when he turned to look at Archer. "Captain, the Commander's awakening is not necessarily good news."

Archer had thought as much when he'd seen the doctor's worried looks, but still, hearing it from Phlox himself only served to increase his anxiety.

"Is he in danger of suffering another shock?"

Phlox folded his arms in front of his chest, his voice sounding grim as he answered. "It is even worse, Captain. The new serum seems to have caused Commander Tucker's body to speed up its metabolism at a rate which is not healthy for him. In short, he's burning up his last resources."

Archer tried to keep his voice calm. "What are you getting at, doc?"

"I am saying that we do not have much time left." Phlox cast a brief glance at the door. "Commander Tucker's body is using up its last strength in order to stay alive until the child is born. But his resources won't even last until then. Captain..." Phlox hesitated, a sad expression crossing his face. "It is very likely that the Commander will not survive the night."

Archer sat down on the edge of the lab table, his hands gripping the cold steel. A hard lump sat in his throat, choking his voice as he spoke.

"Isn't there... isn't there anything you can do, doc?"

Phlox took a deep breath. "Actually there is. Captain..." He raised his eyes. "I'm going to have to operate on the Commander. Now. It's his only hope of survival."

Archer briefly closed his eyes. "He won't let you, doc. You know that."

"The child has almost completely detached itself from his pericardium. There is a chance of more than eighty percent that it will survive the operation. In comparison to the Commander its odds of surviving are very high."

The edge of the desk was beginning to feel sweaty under his palms. "You said it's his only chance..."

Phlox nodded. "It is, Captain. But I can't guarantee that his body will be able to withstand the strain of the operation. All we can do is... hope."
There was a brief pause, and the silence seemed to stretch as Archer fought to keep his emotions under control. He couldn't afford to fall to pieces now. They didn't have the time. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

The doctor hesitated. "I will inform the Commander that it is crucial I operate on him tonight, but I am not going to tell him his life is in immediate danger. It would only serve to upset him, and in his current condition that is the last thing we need. I'm telling you, Captain, because I need your help in this. I need you to talk to the Commander, help him calm down. He trusts you, and if you tell him there's nothing to worry about, he'll believe you."

"You want me to lie to him?"

Phlox shook his head. "It wouldn't be a lie. If the Commander is afraid of the operation, he might be less capable of coping with the strain. I will, of course, narcotize him, but I assume it will help him to know that he's not alone."

Archer nodded. It wasn't a pleasant prospect, witnessing the operation, but he would do anything in his power to help Trip. And the doctor's arguments seemed reasonable. If this was the only chance for Trip to survive, then what were they waiting for?

"Alright, doc. Will it take long to prepare him for surgery?"

Phlox shook his head. "Only fifteen minutes."

Archer took a deep breath. "Well, then... we'd better get started."

Continue to Chapter 11

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Four of you have made comments

You left us with an awful cliffhanger last time. But it's not much better now. "People die at night." I still have shivers running up and down my back. Your writing is so intense. This is one of the best stories I've ever read. Hope Trip's gonna be alright.

Hey folks, am I the only one who's reading this beautiful story? I can hardly believe this. This perfect piece of writing surely deserves some more comments. I don't want the author stop writing because there are so few reviews. So please come up with your thoughts.

YOU CANNOT HAVE STOPPED THERE!!!! Don't do this to us! wow, what an astonishing work. Post the rest! Perfect first-season characterization. Trip is so brave. Please, please, let's see more!

Please, post the rest of the story, This is way to cool for you to stop!