Title: Quite All Right

Author: M

Rating: 14+

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Own none of the characters or the universe. Though I'd treat it better than B&B ever would.

Author's Note: for fictionbya: A response to the ficlet challenge: Give me a fandom to work in, and exactly two of the following:

a pairing
a character
a setting
an object
and I will write you a ficlet.

for this I had Phlox and a phase pistol.

Hopefully this works. :-)

"Quite All Right"
by M.

Three days.

It took them three days to find him.

Sitting on the floor of an adrift Shuttlepod One, a phase pistol clutched tightly in one hand, the ensign - who had been his escort - lying beside him. In stable condition, covered by an emergency blanket, but quite unconscious and seriously wounded.

The doctor himself was only marginally better. Phlox was conscious but only in the very loosest of terms. From the moment the security detail boarded the shuttlepod and brought him out until he crossed the threshold into sickbay, he spoke not a word. Upon setting foot in his beloved home territory, he gave a great sigh as though from his bones and uttered one monosyllable word.

"Safe."

T'Pol immediately, without waiting for the Captain's order, attacked the pod's computers in a search for answers. Likewise, Trip simultaneously went over every inch of the hull looking for signs of weapon's fire or anything appearing to be an attack. If there was any sign of an answer to be found they were both determined to find it. Until Phlox could finally speak, and Hoshi had been tasked with the job of coaxing the truth out of him, that pod was their only hope for answers.

What had happened from the time he had left the ship and the time they'd found him was a mystery. What they did know was the fact Phlox had left the ship to rendezvous with a Vulcan spaceliner requesting aid. That had been three days prior and Phlox had only expected to be gone two at the most. When one of those two had passed without so much as a comm signal from either the doctor or his escort, Archer and company had started to get worried. When both days passed they hit the Starfleet equivalent of frantic and set out in search for him.

Hadn't taken them long at all to find the Vulcan ship. Also adrift.

Crew and passengers slaughtered.

But not Phlox. Not him, nor Ensign Chevalier, or their shuttlepod. It took another day's searching before they finally found that and another day still before Hoshi coaxed the Denobulan into speaking.

Without having relinquished his hold on the phase pistol - despite it's power pack being quite drained - Phlox slowly and deliberately recounted his tale.

"It was Tolaris." The first statement sent a cold chill of horror down Hoshi's spine and she didn't dare to imagine what T'Pol's innermost thoughts about that revelation would be. "The T'Kayiah received a distress call from a Tellarite vessel. A, uh, sick passenger. They stopped to render assistance..." He shook his head abruptly as if to clear his mind of the horrifying images. "They didn't stand a chance. He butchered them. We - the Ensign - she tried to stop him but...he threw her aside as though she..."

Phlox stopped then, taking a moment to regain the composure which had grown so tenuous. So focused on that struggle was he, he missed the entrance of the senior officers. Namely, the Captain, T'Pol and Malcolm who neatly stepped to the side to observe quietly.

"It seems he had...he had killed his traveling companions - I don't know why, some imagined grievance I would assume - but their deaths were not enough. His," again the Denobulan stopped, this time to find the right word, "bloodlust was not satisfied. There was nothing I could do. In the end, I managed to get myself and the Ensign to the pod. There was weapons fire..." Phlox sighed. "Then I was here."

"And you have no idea how you escaped exactly?" Hoshi prompted gently, touching his hand.

"None whatsoever." The Denobulan shook his head. "I would assume I managed to engage the autopilot but...as for how we avoided being fired on or where Tolaris is..."

"We'll find him." Archer interjected solemnly, stepping forward. "If we don't, I'm sure the Vulcans will. They're not going to let this go lightly."

"Indeed not." T'Pol agreed. "He will be apprehended and brought for Verification." The way she said it, none of them especially envied the man but none of them could summon much sympathy either. "Doctor..." Stepping forward, she held out her hand, "I will return the weapon to the Armory for you if you wish."

Reflexively, Phlox began to reach out to drop the phase pistol into her hand but something stopped him and he sat back, looking at it. Memories flashed before his mind's eye. Disjointed, grainy images. Memories of those last desperate moments aboard the T'Kayiah. He saw himself, carefully arranging the Ensign on the floor of the pod, covering her with the blanket. He heard the scrape of booted heel on the landing bay floor. He felt himself turn. Felt his hand squeeze tight around the grip of the phase pistol.

Felt himself fire.

Saw...

"No, Commander." He decided, hefting the now familiar item in his hand. "That's quite all right." He looked up, fully aware of the odd way his friends were watching him. "Quite all right."

And indeed, it was.

Finis