The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - Chapter 3

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by Sita Z

Disclaimers in Chapter 1

****

Chapter 3

Sitting in his quarters, Trip stared out the window at the stars streaking past, trying to gain some of the confidence the sight of the universe at warp usually gave him. Some crewmembers had felt rather uneasy about moving faster than light during their first weeks on Enterprise, had complained about headaches and the like, but Trip was not one of them. All his life he had been waiting to see those rainbow-colored lines of light for real, not in a simulation, and when Enterprise had first gone to warp he'd felt as happy and proud as he had seldom before. It wasn't just about moving; it was about going somewhere, going faster than anyone ever had. Well, anyone on Earth, at least. There had been a number of times when Trip's initial enthusiasm about their mission had been dampened, to say the least, but he'd never lost his love for the sight of the stars at warp. Sometimes when he couldn't sleep at night, he would get up and sit down at his window, simply enjoying the view. And on most occasions it helped him forget whatever it was that was bothering him, allowing him to bring his thoughts back into order again and find solutions. Mostly. But not always.

Turning away from the window, Trip leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. It was now two hours ago that they had boarded the shuttle, taken their leave and flown back to Enterprise. Two hours since the Xyrillians had left without so much as a last word of farewell, going to warp and disappearing from sight as soon as Jon had closed the shuttle's hatch behind them. Trip still had trouble believing that they were really gone. Just like that, goodbye and good riddance. A crazy part of him still expected Archer to call him any minute, telling him they were back and that it had all been some rather nasty practical joke. Or a misunderstanding. Trip didn't really give a shit which.

Another part of him, however, the part of his mind that was in the habit of popping up when he expected it the least and making cynical comments at the most inopportune moments, told him that it wasn't going to happen. They're gone, it said. Face it, buddy. Not coming back. Left you holding the baby. All puns intended.

It was surprising how much the way the Xyrillians had treated him had shaken him up. At the moment his feelings of anger and humiliation were probably the last thing he needed to worry about, but he couldn't help it. Usually Trip wasn't that easily affected by that kind of thing; he mostly shrugged it off rather quickly, having neither the patience nor the perseverance to bear a grudge for long. This was different, however. Tr'Nal and that doctor of his had treated him like dirt, and Ah'Len had never even tried to come to his help. She had lied looking him straight in the eyes, acted as if he had initiated their liaison – if one could call their weird session in the holographic chamber a liaison – and had clearly indicated that she wanted nothing to do with whatever happened to him now. Maybe that was what hurt him the most. Not that he had any particular feelings for her; hell, they'd met less than two weeks ago, and except for that time in the holo chamber they'd mostly spent their time together repairing Thera warp coils – but that wasn't what it was about. It was the way he'd felt when he'd first been to that ship, the way Ah'Len had made him feel welcome, at home. Her being attracted to him had flattered him, of course, but mostly he'd been proud of making friends with a being from an entirely different culture. Proud of the fact that the very first away mission he'd been responsible for was a complete success – he'd not only got their engines up and running again, but had managed to establish diplomatic relations as well.

And you did just wonderful, the cynical part of his mind spoke up again. Got yourself knocked up by an alien engineer. Well, if that doesn't improve interspecies relations...

Trip shook his head. He should have known. It seemed his fate to mess things up, to find every trouble out here that was waiting to happen. And there was certainly more trouble to this universe than he ever had imagined.

The sound of the doorsignal made him raise his head. For a moment he considered not answering; he didn't really feel like having company right now. But there wasn't much use either in sitting here and beating himself up for what had happened. Could just as well leave that task to the Subcommander, she probably did a much better job of it.

"Come," Trip said, expecting to see the Captain and T'Pol standing in the doorframe. To his surprise, however, Jon had come alone. The Captain surveyed the room with one quick glance, and Trip wished he had at least cleared up the discarded clothing that was piled on his desk chair. Archer however never seemed to notice; his eyes came to rest on Trip and he smiled almost tentatively.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Trip said, getting up to offer the Captain his chair, but Archer motioned for him to stay put and took a seat on the desk chair after he'd carefully transferred the pile of clothes to the floor. A moment of awkward silence followed.

"I talked to the rest of the senior staff," Jon said finally. "Informed them of what happened."

Trip only nodded. On their way back to the ship Archer had already mentioned that the rest of the bridge crew needed to know about his situation. At the time Trip hadn't really cared, numbly agreeing to anything Archer said, but now that the initial shock had worn off, the idea was rather embarrassing, to say the least. He sighed.

"Well, nothin' like a good laugh to brighten up your day."

Archer looked up. "No one laughed, Trip. In fact they were very concerned. Malcolm even suggested to track down the Xyrillians once again and try a more... aggressive approach."

Trip raised his head. "He did?"

Archer nodded. "He seemed rather.. surprised that I hadn't done so in the first place."

Trip didn't answer, carefully avoiding the Captain's eyes.

"Trip." Jon's voice sounded gentle, but firm, and Trip couldn't help but look up again. "You know that I'd do everything in my power to help you, don't you?" Trip nodded, and Archer continued, "But I can't risk starting an interstellar war. We know nearly nothing about the Xyrillian society, and no one can tell how Tr'Nal would have reacted if I had tried to use force."

"I know," Trip said quickly. He didn't want Jon to think that he was blaming him for his decision. "You did everything you could. An'... an' I'm sorry I disobeyed your orders back on Tr'Nal's ship. Guess I wasn't really thinkin' clearly at the time..."

"It's alright, Trip," Archer said. Another moment of silence ensued, and once again Trip felt a dull ache stabbing his side. Grimacing slightly, he put a hand to the place where the pain had its origin, and pressed his palm against the bulge protruding on his left. He noticed Jon watching him concernedly.

"You alright?"

Trip nodded. "I'm fine. Phlox said it's normal for it to hurt from time to time. He said it's to be expected since it's integrated itself with my pericardium."

Jon raised a hand and wiped his chin in a gesture that was very typical of him. Trip could tell that Jon was trying to find words for what he meant to say next, and it was clear that it wasn't something Trip was going to like.

"You know," Archer began after a while, "we'll have to consider what we're going to do now. Phlox already told you that there's no way of removing the fetus without killing it, so..."

Trip nodded, closing his eyes again. It was the last thing he wanted to talk or even think about, but he knew just as well that pushing it out of his mind wouldn't help. Reality in form of an alien fetus in his side was always there to remind him, and now that the Xyrillians were gone, simply dismissing it from his mind wasn't going to work anymore.

"I'll have to... carry it to term."

"Not necessarily."

Trip opened his eyes and looked at Archer who was staring down at his hands. The Captain had spoken in a very quiet voice, but Trip was sure he had heard him correctly.

"What do you mean?"

Archer hesitated, and Trip could see that his friend was feeling very uncomfortable.

"Trip... back in that holographic chamber-"

"Yes?" Trip asked warily.

"You said Ah'Len never told you what she was about to do..."

Trip swallowed. Here comes, he thought. So he doesn't believe me after all.

"Captain," he began, wishing his voice wouldn't sound so hoarse all of a sudden. "I swear I told you nothin' but the truth. She never said a word. You know I would never lie to you-"

"I know," Archer interrupted, startling Trip into silence. "I believe you, Trip. As I told Tr'Nal, I've never had reason not to. But that wasn't what I was getting at." Again he paused. "Ah'Len lied to you. It was a lie of omission, but it was still a lie. She asked you to play that game, fully conscious of the fact that you weren't aware of the implications. And she deliberately neglected to tell you." Archer looked up, a strange mixture of compassion and anger in his eyes as he continued. "Trip, what she did was essentially-"

"No," Trip interrupted quickly before Archer could say the word. He didn't even want to hear it. "It wasn't like that. She - she never forced me or anything. It was jus' a game."

Somewhere deep down in his mind, however, Trip knew that no matter how hard he tried telling himself that it was not so, Archer was still right. Ah'Len had known it was not just a game, but she hadn't told him. End of story. There was a name for that kind of thing, and no ifs and buts could change anything about the fact that it had happened to him.

Jon took a deep breath. "Trip, I don't think she meant any harm. I guess she never thought it could happen with someone from another species. She didn't strike me like the kind of person who'd resort to lies to get what she wanted. I guess all she did was not think. Still, she left you no choice. And in that case Phlox can't refuse if you ask him to... operate on you."

Trip stared at him. "You mean, perform an... abortion?"

Jon sighed, again running his hand over his chin. "It is an option, Trip. You heard it yourself; Phlox said your condition might turn out to be dangerous, both to you and the fetus. And we don't know for sure whether it can survive at all under these circumstances. I'm not saying this is a decision to be made lightly, but... you should know that it's up to you."

Trip turned his head away, again watching the streaks of light passing by outside. Strangely enough, during all the time they had been looking for the Xyrillian ship he had never once considered this possibility himself. Maybe because he had been so focused on telling himself that things were going to turn out alright, Trip had never really thought about having Phlox remove the lifeform from his body despite the fact that it was going to die in the process. It seemed a terrible idea, simply excising it from his side, as if it were a tumor and not a living being. But at the same time Jon's words triggered a feeling of hope within him. The Xyrillians might be gone, but there was still a way for him to get out of this. Get out of it with his body and mind more or less intact, without having to endure the pain and humiliation of carrying the lifeform to term. The thought of walking down the corridors with everybody whispering behind his back, of seeing the amused compassion on people's faces made him cringe inwardly. He wasn't sure he would be able to go through with it, to bear being on the receiving end of their intrusive questions and "good-natured" teasing. And afterwards? Phlox had said something about "postnatal responsibilities", and even though Trip had only a very vague idea of what kind of "responsibilities" Phlox had been referring to, the mere thought made him shudder. He couldn't do this. It wasn't like he'd asked for it, and the consequences seemed to be going from bad to worse.

"Trip?"

Jon's voice startled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to see his friend look at him with the very expression on his face he feared the most – pity.

Trip got up. He could live with being the target of ridicule or open contempt, but one thing Trip knew he wouldn't be able to bear: people feeling sorry for him.

Archer watched him, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Where're you going?"

Trip answered without looking back.

"Down to sickbay. I'm gonna talk to Phlox."

###

Trip watched as Phlox shut off his scanner, noticing a thin line that had formed between the doctor's bushy eyebrows. It was obvious that Phlox was not pleased.

Jon, standing next to the biobed Trip was sitting on, cleared his throat.

"Let's hear it, doc. Is it safe?"

Phlox's frown deepened. "In this stage of development it is still possible to extract the fetus without doing irreversible damage to Commander Tucker's vital organs. As to the ethical implications of that course of action-"

"Doc," Trip interrupted, for some reason not quite able to look Phlox in the eyes. "You said you'd do it."

Phlox folded his hands around his scanner, giving Trip an unusually grave look. "I did say so, Commander, since the circumstances of the conception were such that by human law you have the right to ask for my... assistance in this. But I must remind you that you're asking me to end the life of a living, once-to-be-sentient being. Removing it from your body will mean its instant death."

Trip swallowed, staring down at his hands. The doctor was telling him nothing new, but hearing it in these scientific terms made it seem even worse somehow. He couldn't blame Phlox for what he was doing, but at the moment he just wished the doctor would give it a rest. It wasn't like it had been an easy decision to make.

Jon seemed to have read his mind for he intervened before Phlox could continue, resting a hand on the doctor's arm.

"Phlox. I'm sure Trip is aware of the implications. But we'll have to respect his wishes in this."

"You don't have to remind me of my professional obligations, Captain," Phlox said rather testily. "It's just that the Commander is not my only patient here. There are two lives at stake, and I want to make sure I've done everything in my power to preserve them. I understand you are worried about Commander Tucker, but you mustn't forget that this being has the same right to live as he does."

"Can everyone finally stop talkin' about me as if I'm not here?" Trip burst out, feeling an anger that hadn't been there only a moment ago. "I'm not some lab specimen, okay?"

Phlox and Archer both fell silent and stared at him with their eyebrows raised, which made Trip feel even more uncomfortable.

"Look, doc, I'm not a monster. It's not like I want to kill that thing. But I can't..." He broke off, taking a deep breath. There was no use in yelling at Phlox, who was, after all, only doing his job. "Will you help me?"

Phlox sighed, the frown never leaving his round face. "I already told you, Commander, I'm not in the position to refuse. I will perform the operation if you request me to do so. I must however insist that you take the time to think it over."

"Doc," Trip began, but Phlox interrupted him.

"One day. I want you to think about for one day, then come back to see me. If you haven't changed your mind until then, I will not make any further stipulations."

Trip stared at him, and knew that there was no use in arguing. The doctor had made up his mind.

"Fine." He slid off the biobed, hoping they weren't going to make him stay. All he wanted to do now was find a place where he could be alone, and deal with his tangled-up feelings without any prying eyes watching him. "Cap'n, doc..."

Neither of them said a word, but Trip could feel their eyes between his shoulderblades as he left sickbay. When the doors had closed behind him he picked up his pace, walking faster although he had nowhere to go. He felt like kicking the bulkheads, screaming at the walls. Wasn't there a single place on the whole damn ship where he could have a minute's peace, without someone giving him a lecture on medical ethics or looking at him in that understanding way, telling him it wasn't his fault? Why couldn't they mind their own business? Just then another stab of pain sliced through his midriff, and Trip stopped, breathing heavily, pressing a hand against his side. The pain subsided rather quickly as it always did, but still Trip felt like he couldn't go on. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and felt a burning sensation rise behind his lids. He'd never before come so close to wishing he hadn't signed on for this mission, after all.

Continue to Chapter 4

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