Chapter 1
Sickbay lay in silent darkness save for the muted protestations of its caged inhabitants. A strange contrast to the chaotic state it had possessed only a few weeks prior. Over the past month, Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato had been stricken by a mysterious virus while on an away mission and had been quarantined in Decon as to not infect the rest of the crew. Doctor Phlox had worked tirelessly to find a cure. The viral strain, however, was vicious to their physiognomy scarring their physical forms almost beyond recognition. They had nearly succumbed to the strain's excruciating influence when Phlox had succeeded in developing a treatment.
Suddenly, the Sickbay doors slid open to reveal the silhouette of a solitary figure. After a moments pause, the visitor stepped cautiously into the room. As T'Pol assessed the Sickbay, she noted the eerie silence. She knew the Captain had ordered the Doctor to take a brief respite. Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato were no longer in danger and required only rest. However, she fully expected a nervous Denobulan physician to greet her at the entrance. As it was, it seemed Phlox had chosen to follow the Captain's orders if only for a few hours.
As T'Pol scanned the room, her eyes fell upon a curtained area. Her heart rate increased and for a moment she could not control the blinding panic and fear that flooded her senses. When she had last seen him through the glass of the Decon chamber, the sight had nearly undone her. He was terribly thin having lost twenty-five percent of his body weight in only three weeks time; his eyes were dark and hollowed; an orange crust had formed around the rims of his eyes, nose, and mouth; and his breathing was extremely laboured. She recalled when Trip looked at her, there was no recognition. Only extreme suffering and exhaustion. The fear she had seen in him at the onset of this situation had been replaced by resignation and a longing for an end. Her chest tightened at the memory.
'Why am I here? What right do I have to express concern for him?' she silently questioned herself. 'You are the first officer of this starship and it is your duty to ensure the welfare of the crew.' She knew this simply to be an excuse. It was she that had ended what was developing between them. She had held fast to the notion that she was justified in her choice. He had taken her decision with outward grace and dignity but he was broken. She had broken him. Since then, he had withdrawn from her considerably only speaking to her while on duty and only ever about ship's business. He still maintained a friendly veneer but with an uncharacteristically cool distance. She missed him. 'That could not be considered though,' she told herself. It was vital that she find her centering. She needed to rediscover the path of Surak. She needed to do this alone. She was convinced that he would understand one day.
Her reasoning was decimated when confronted with the prospect of losing him. She had never experienced these particular emotions with such force before and she found herself unequipped to handle them. No amount of meditation or reading from the teachings of Surak alleviated her distress. Even after Phlox had administered the cure and they began to improve, she still needed to see him to erase the mental picture that had been burned into her mind. It was illogical but it was the only way she could conceive of to ease her current state.
She took a few calming breathes and slowly ventured toward the partitioned area. As she gently pushed the curtain aside, she was deeply shaken by what she saw. He was still very thin and the scars left by the devastating virus still fresh but he was definitely much improved. His chest rose and fell almost imperceptibly with steady, even breathes. She moved swiftly reaching for him but fell short before placing her hands on either side of his face. It was not his physical appearance that had caused this chain of reactions. The relief and joy that rushed over her when she first saw him had initiated her flight. 'He is not going to die,' she thought. 'I am not going to lose him.' She was so shocked by those involuntary thoughts that she stopped her movement to him completely. Retracting her hands slowly and placing them by her sides, she hovered above him memorizing his calm features and contemplating what her next course of action should be.
She was deeply confused; torn with relief, fear, shame, and joy. There were even some emotions she could not put a name to or perhaps would not because of their sheer magnitude. But the most perplexing emotion of all was hope. She had an overwhelming sense of hope for his future as well as hers. It became clear to her in this moment that she could no longer ignore recent events or her reactions to them. It was not logical to do so. She had to find a way to regain her Vulcan composure while maintaining a connection to this human who had become so precious to her. Leaning further forward, she gently pressed her forehead against his temple and placed her right hand in his left. "Rest well Trip" she sighed against his cheek.
After a moment, she stood and regarded him. Finally assured of Trip's well being, T'Pol moved off toward the Sickbay doors. As she made her approach to the exit, a new fear began to take shape in her mind. She had pushed the Commander away so many times. Caused him so much pain on so many different occasions. Perhaps this latest near-death experience would move him to make some decisions of his own. T'Pol ceased her foot fall, looked back to where he lay hidden behind the partitioning curtain and forced this thought further. What if she had pushed him too far? What if he chose to move on with his life without her? If their most recent interactions were any indication, logically, this seemed to be the likeliest outcome. It hit her. Despite his survival, she had already lost the Commander. The pain of that realization was acute. And as T'Pol commanded her feet to recommence their progression out of Sickbay, she felt all the hope she had just recovered slip away.