Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm borrowing them for no reason at all except my pleasure. I just wish Malcolm were mine.
Rating: PG...borderline PG-13...It's kind of angst with Malcolm feeling depressed.
Author's Notes: This is my first Enterprise fic. I chose to do one from Malcolm's point of view because he's my favorite character and he's kind of under appreciated.
Archive: Just tell me where first
Feedback: Send to [1]CJSpooks@aol.com
Summary: Set after "Fortunate Son" or "Cold Front". Malcolm-angst. After a long day, He feels tired and depressed. He does a lot of thinking about his purpose.
A Reason to Live- Malcolm's Point of View
By CJSpooks
Lt. Malcolm Reed's personal journal
Strictly Confidential
These past few months on Enterprise have been very eventful for me. I have seen many things, including attractive, exotic dancers with long tongues like lizards, dead bodies of aliens hanging from the ceiling with Hoshi screaming in horror, and Commander Tucker pregnant with a Xyrillian baby that wasn't even his. I have experienced many things like being shot in the leg and held hostage on Terra Nova's underside, taking control of the bridge when the Captain, Sub-Commander, and Commander were captured by Andorians, and collecting samples on an icy comet. Enterprise is the best experience. I wouldn't miss it for the world.
One week later...
Another long day has passed. It's another long day that has passed with no appreciation whatsoever. I do so much for this damn ship's armory and I never get any recognition, not even from the captain.
I walk through these blasted corridors everyday, keeping to myself, trying to contain my rage. I finally get to my quarters after several minutes of wandering and I open the door. I'm exhausted, but not sleepy, so I decide to write in my journal. Everyone else keeps an audio log, but not me. I'm stuck in my old ways. Anyway, I'm not in the mood to talk. I sit at my desk and I pull my journal out from where it is taped under the bottom drawer. You never know when some intruder may rummage through your things.
I pick up the pen and hesitate. I have no idea what to write. My mind is going fifty thousand kilometers a minute. I should write what I feel. I feel so unappreciated with no reason to live or to even...breathe. Everyone else on this bloody ship is appreciated and has many reasons to live.
Captain Archer is appreciated and will be remembered for being a great man. Commander Tucker is the most popular person on the ship. All the women would love to go out with him. Even T'Pol if she had feelings. For some reason, I think they have a thing for each other even though they bicker constantly about everything. T'Pol is respected; though she is a Vulcan. She can handle herself really bloody well, if you ask me. Dr. Phlox may seem a bit odd, but people seem to like him because he seems so at home with humans. Travis is a space loving boomer. Everyone likes Travis because he's so positive. Hoshi is young, ambitious, intelligent, and talented. She can speak to anyone in any language. Also, she IS kind of cute...but she would never like me. I think Hoshi likes Travis. They talk to each other a lot and they spend tons of time together.
And now my thoughts trail to myself. Barely anyone knows I'm there. I usually work at my station on the bridge and in the armory in my quiet little way. I'm sort of like a chameleon. I blend in with my surroundings. They don't realize how much they need me. Without me, their armory wouldn't be well stocked. Without me, the torpedoes' coordinates would be off by mere microns. Without me, they wouldn't know what phase pistols were. I have no purpose here except to take up space. I don't even know why I signed up in the first place.
I should get my phase pistol out and shoot myself. I don't deserve to be living amongst the appreciated. Hey, That's a capitol idea! I'm guessing I'm insane right now, but I don't care. Everyone would be better off without me taking up his or her air supply. Sure, some people would be upset, but they would easily forget me. I'll take a shower first. A man should look his Sunday's best before he dies. I look at my journal. I didn't write a damn thing. I run to the lavatory to shower.
When I emerge about ten minutes later, I feel at peace for some reason. It's like the rage left me. I have to go through with this. I scribble a short will on a sheet of paper and I grab my phase pistol out of its holster. I place the barrel of the pistol against my head. As I am about to pull the trigger and end my pitiful life, I look around my quarters one last time. I see an envelope on my desk that I didn't even know was there. I drop my phase pistol and I scramble over to see what it is. The envelope has my name, `Malcolm', written on it in ink. I open the envelope quickly and curiously. Inside is a neatly written letter. It said:
Malcolm,
Sir, I'm sorry for entering your room without permission. You weren't here after your shift so I assumed you were probably in the armory. I just dropped this off on your desk and left. I didn't poke around, honest. This might seem awkward...but...I like you. I've admired you ever since that incident with the Andorians and you took control of the ship and you acted like a captain. I want to have dinner with you tomorrow after our shift is over. I can't wait to see you there!
Ensign Hoshi Sato
I stared at the letter in shock. Someone actually likes me! I have a reason to live after all. "I guess I don't need this."- I said as I picked up the phase pistol off the floor and I placed it on the bedside table. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
The End
References
1. mailto:CJSpooks@aol.com
Rating: PG...borderline PG-13...It's kind of angst with Malcolm feeling depressed.
Author's Notes: This is my first Enterprise fic. I chose to do one from Malcolm's point of view because he's my favorite character and he's kind of under appreciated.
Archive: Just tell me where first
Feedback: Send to [1]CJSpooks@aol.com
Summary: Set after "Fortunate Son" or "Cold Front". Malcolm-angst. After a long day, He feels tired and depressed. He does a lot of thinking about his purpose.
A Reason to Live- Malcolm's Point of View
By CJSpooks
Lt. Malcolm Reed's personal journal
Strictly Confidential
These past few months on Enterprise have been very eventful for me. I have seen many things, including attractive, exotic dancers with long tongues like lizards, dead bodies of aliens hanging from the ceiling with Hoshi screaming in horror, and Commander Tucker pregnant with a Xyrillian baby that wasn't even his. I have experienced many things like being shot in the leg and held hostage on Terra Nova's underside, taking control of the bridge when the Captain, Sub-Commander, and Commander were captured by Andorians, and collecting samples on an icy comet. Enterprise is the best experience. I wouldn't miss it for the world.
One week later...
Another long day has passed. It's another long day that has passed with no appreciation whatsoever. I do so much for this damn ship's armory and I never get any recognition, not even from the captain.
I walk through these blasted corridors everyday, keeping to myself, trying to contain my rage. I finally get to my quarters after several minutes of wandering and I open the door. I'm exhausted, but not sleepy, so I decide to write in my journal. Everyone else keeps an audio log, but not me. I'm stuck in my old ways. Anyway, I'm not in the mood to talk. I sit at my desk and I pull my journal out from where it is taped under the bottom drawer. You never know when some intruder may rummage through your things.
I pick up the pen and hesitate. I have no idea what to write. My mind is going fifty thousand kilometers a minute. I should write what I feel. I feel so unappreciated with no reason to live or to even...breathe. Everyone else on this bloody ship is appreciated and has many reasons to live.
Captain Archer is appreciated and will be remembered for being a great man. Commander Tucker is the most popular person on the ship. All the women would love to go out with him. Even T'Pol if she had feelings. For some reason, I think they have a thing for each other even though they bicker constantly about everything. T'Pol is respected; though she is a Vulcan. She can handle herself really bloody well, if you ask me. Dr. Phlox may seem a bit odd, but people seem to like him because he seems so at home with humans. Travis is a space loving boomer. Everyone likes Travis because he's so positive. Hoshi is young, ambitious, intelligent, and talented. She can speak to anyone in any language. Also, she IS kind of cute...but she would never like me. I think Hoshi likes Travis. They talk to each other a lot and they spend tons of time together.
And now my thoughts trail to myself. Barely anyone knows I'm there. I usually work at my station on the bridge and in the armory in my quiet little way. I'm sort of like a chameleon. I blend in with my surroundings. They don't realize how much they need me. Without me, their armory wouldn't be well stocked. Without me, the torpedoes' coordinates would be off by mere microns. Without me, they wouldn't know what phase pistols were. I have no purpose here except to take up space. I don't even know why I signed up in the first place.
I should get my phase pistol out and shoot myself. I don't deserve to be living amongst the appreciated. Hey, That's a capitol idea! I'm guessing I'm insane right now, but I don't care. Everyone would be better off without me taking up his or her air supply. Sure, some people would be upset, but they would easily forget me. I'll take a shower first. A man should look his Sunday's best before he dies. I look at my journal. I didn't write a damn thing. I run to the lavatory to shower.
When I emerge about ten minutes later, I feel at peace for some reason. It's like the rage left me. I have to go through with this. I scribble a short will on a sheet of paper and I grab my phase pistol out of its holster. I place the barrel of the pistol against my head. As I am about to pull the trigger and end my pitiful life, I look around my quarters one last time. I see an envelope on my desk that I didn't even know was there. I drop my phase pistol and I scramble over to see what it is. The envelope has my name, `Malcolm', written on it in ink. I open the envelope quickly and curiously. Inside is a neatly written letter. It said:
Malcolm,
Sir, I'm sorry for entering your room without permission. You weren't here after your shift so I assumed you were probably in the armory. I just dropped this off on your desk and left. I didn't poke around, honest. This might seem awkward...but...I like you. I've admired you ever since that incident with the Andorians and you took control of the ship and you acted like a captain. I want to have dinner with you tomorrow after our shift is over. I can't wait to see you there!
Ensign Hoshi Sato
I stared at the letter in shock. Someone actually likes me! I have a reason to live after all. "I guess I don't need this."- I said as I picked up the phase pistol off the floor and I placed it on the bedside table. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
The End
References
1. mailto:CJSpooks@aol.com