A/N: 1) This takes place during the scene in Trip's quarters in "Affliction." Some spoilers are therefore present. 2) I try to avoid out-and-out songfics in general, but this has elements of that in Trip's perspective; T'Pol's perspective is inspired by lyrics from the same song but doesn't incorporate them. 3) (Added 5-26-05): I emailed to ask them what defines a songfic. I haven't heard back, and until I do, this is marginal enough that I'm leaving it up.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the main characters. Ace of Base owns the song "Don't Turn Around." Whatever is left over is the product of my imagination.
Better That Way
Trip Tucker couldn't believe what he'd just said. Sure, he was hurt, but the way he'd snapped at T'Pol, accused her of being selfish really, had obviously cut her to the core. He meant it to, but the moment after the words left his mouth he regretted them. Of course she was right.
He could stop her before she left, tell her she was right. He could apologize and admit the truth. For a moment that hung as if it were suspended in time, he was going to.
The moment ended. Trip knew that it was too late to change things. T'Pol had her Vulcan writings, and he had a new post. He couldn't make her want a relationship. Suddenly the words of an old song made sense.
If you wanna leave, I won't beg you to stay, and if you gotta go, darling, maybe it's better that way.
It was a song his grandmother had enjoyed, and it was often played in her car when she took them places. One day in particular stood out in Trip's memory. He had the honor of a day alone with Grandma, and they went out for lunch. That old song came up on her player.
"Grandma," he'd said after applying his preteen brain to the song and failing to understand it, "what's this song about?"
"Relationships," she'd replied matter-of-factly.
"I don't get it, and I think I know all the words." In those days, Trip took great pride in his ability to understand song lyrics quickly.
"That's because you haven't had the experience. This is the third remake, so obviously it's hit a chord with a lot of people. Someday, when you're older, you'll understand. Then, of course, you'll wish you didn't."
"I always want to understand," he'd reminded her.
"You will, Trip, but I can't explain it to you. When a relationship ends, people don't want to let the other person know how much they hurt."
Over two decades later, it made sense to Trip. He could admit that he was leaving because of T'Pol. He could apologize for snapping at her. But what would it change?
If you gotta go, darling, maybe it's better that way.
Nothing, that's what it would change. Trip let the door open in silence. T'Pol was leaving. If he ever wanted to say something, after all they'd shared, now was the time. If she wanted to, now was the time.
He couldn't. It wouldn't change anything. T'Pol had made her decision, and she chose Surak over him. She did not look back, and he was glad. By now the pain was assuredly written all over his face.
Don't turn around, 'cause you're gonna see my heart breaking. Don't turn around, I don't want you seeing me cry. The sounds had filled the car, and he'd even seen his grandmother sway her neck a bit in time with the beat.
"Grandma, if she loves this guy, why doesn't she say something? This song is dumb." Oh, how little he had known that breezy spring day!
T'Pol was halfway out the door now. He could've said something, but there was no use. Nothing would change. At least she didn't look back. Some people would've wanted that small indication of doubt, but Trip was glad she didn't turn around. Then she would've seen his emotions playing across his face. At least now he had most of his dignity.
Don't turn around, 'cause you're gonna see my heart breaking.
The doors closed, and a few tears found their way down his cheeks. Trip slammed his fist into his mattress.
Nothing had changed, and he still had that suddenly-useless dignity. The song had no comment regarding how hollow he felt.
His volatile and accusative response confirmed what T'Pol already knew: he was leaving Enterprise because of her. That he felt the need to accuse her of selfishness confirmed another truth: she could never have a relationship with Trip Tucker.
She walked towards the door. Honestly, she did not want him to transfer. It was illogical and emotional, but it was the truth. For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him that she did not wish for him to leave. Painful emotions had roiled within her when Captain Archer informed her of the commander's pending transfer.
T'Pol sincerely considered telling him these things. If he had looked at her with caring and friendship, like he used to, he might have seen the crack in her façade, the indication that all was not neat and logical within her mind. However, he was absorbed in his own anger. She did not want him to see her pain. It would only make the inevitable more difficult.
They could not have a viable romantic relationship. It was best to walk out the door without looking back and not give him the opportunity to see how much his departure was affecting her. Undoubtedly, it was much better that way.
She would recover from the emotions that tormented her. The Kir'Shara would guide her towards enlightenment. Her career, while not what she had ever anticipated, was satisfactory. He was not necessary for her well-being.
Even if she admitted that she did not want him to go and Starfleet was willing to allow Trip to stay, it would only postpone the pain. It was better to face than delay it.
T'Pol allowed herself the indulgence of wondering if he would think of her. The question was ridiculous. His thoughts were of no relevance to her well-being. She would gain control of the emotions that presently plagued her; she was strong, and she would be fine.
If he wanted to leave, it was probably better than staying on Enterprise. Time and distance would allow the emotions to fade and be mastered.
Despite this, T'Pol felt a terrible ache of regret stirring within her. As illogical and ill-advised as the idea was, she wished to attempt a relationship with Trip. She pushed the thought into the corner of her mind and applied much of her not inconsiderable mental concentration to quelling the regret. Of all emotions, regret was one of the most destructive and the least desirable. She wanted no part of it.
He would leave, and she would remain. Assuredly, it was much better that way.
Yet T'Pol could not entirely rid her mind of the regret.