Title: Finding Faith

Author: Settiai

Disclaimer: "Star Trek" and other related characters are all properties of Gene Roddenberry, Paramount, and other related corporations. No infringement is intended. This story, such as it is, was written as a sign of respect and love for the characters, the show, and their creator. I claim no ownership of the aforementioned show and characters.

Rating: PG

Explanation: This is my story for the Enterprise Ficathon on LiveJournal, and it was written for RoaringMice.

Summary: Sometimes it takes a friend to make the world seem normal.

Feedback: Comments and helpful criticisms are always appreciated.

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"I'm starting to think that you get a kick out of near-death experiences."

Malcolm turned towards the mess hall's doorway, a startled expression on his face. When he saw who was standing there, though, he merely shook his head and let his gaze drop back down to the cup of coffee sitting in front of him.

Trip made his way over to where Malcolm was sitting and dropped down in the chair across from him. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

For several seconds, Malcolm didn't reply. When Trip didn't make any appearance of leaving, though, he finally looked up. "Something like that," he said softly.

Malcolm's gaze immediately dropped back down to his coffee, but Trip remained focused on the other man's face. "How's the leg?" he asked casually.

"Sore," Malcolm replied, not looking up. "But that's to be expected, I'd imagine."

"Yeah, I guess so," Trip said. When Malcolm didn't say anything else, he cocked his head just a bit. "So… any reason you're sitting there staring at a cup of coffee that's been cold for who knows how long?"

"What?"

Trip barely contained a chuckle as Malcolm looked up at him, a surprised look on his face. "Your coffee," Trip explained, gesturing toward it. "There's no steam coming out of the top. It's cold."

Malcolm looked back down at his coffee for a second. "I hadn't even noticed," he said distractedly.

At that, Trip raised an eyebrow and promptly stood up. He walked over to where Malcolm was sitting and knelt down beside the other man. "Hey, look at me."

Letting out a tired sigh, Malcolm reluctantly met Trip's gaze. He didn't say anything, but the dark circles under his eyes answered any questions Trip might have asked.

Trip narrowed his eyes a bit. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Phlox tell you that the only way he'd let you leave sickbay is if you'd promise to get some rest?"

"That's right," Malcolm admitted after a short pause.

"And the reason that you're here instead of in your quarters?" Trip asked, more than a little concern in his eyes.

Malcolm shrugged. "I couldn't sleep," he said quietly.

Trip kept staring at him, his gaze moving over the other man's face with great scrutiny. "What the hell is up with you?" he finally asked, a concerned tone in his voice.

For several seconds, Malcolm didn't reply. Instead, he kept his gaze focused on his hands and refused to look at Trip's face.

"Malcolm?"

He forced himself to ignore the concern in Trip's voice.

"Damn it, stop ignoring me."

He forced himself to ignore the hurt in Trip's voice.

"Please."

He gave in.

"I thought I was going to die," Malcolm whispered, his voice barely audible even in the empty mess hall. "I was prepared to die."

He finally looked up, a haunted expression in his eyes as he met Trip's gaze.

"I think… that I wanted to die."

Trip started a bit, but he didn't let his gaze waver. "You were thinking about everyone else," he said after a moment's pause. "That's all. You knew that the best way to make sure we all lived…"

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Malcolm cut in, the look on his face beginning to resemble shame.

Trip studied his friend's face for a moment. "Do you want to die?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.

"No," Malcolm replied instantly. "I mean… I don't think…"

A hint of trepidation flickered across Trip's face as Malcolm took a deep break. "No," he repeated, much more firmly than the first time. "No, I don't want to die."

Trip closed his eyes for a moment, and Malcolm couldn't help but noticed the relieved expression that appeared on the other man's face. "Well, that's good to hear," Trip said, not even opening his eyes. "I was afraid that I'd have to pick up one of these chairs and try to knock some sense into you in a minute or two."

It took a few seconds, but Malcolm finally chucked. At the sound, Trip casually opened his eyes and shot him an innocent look. "Did I say something funny?"

Malcolm started to roll his eyes, pausing halfway through as he realized that Trip was baiting him. "You're hilarious," he said dryly. "A regular comedian in fact."

"You better believe it," Trip replied with a grin. "I'm also good at changing the subject when things get tense. So, anything you want to get done in life before the captain pisses some powerful aliens off and gets us all killed?"

Malcolm blinked at the sudden shift in topic, and he studied Trip's face for a moment. Once he was at least partially certain that his friend hadn't completely lost his mind, he let himself think about the question that had just been asked.

"I do still have a few things that I'd like to accomplish," Malcolm agreed, slowly relaxing as they moved into the safer conversation.

"I bet most of them involve weapons of some sort," Trip said teasingly. "Or maybe a certain ensign named Hoshi Sato?"

Malcolm shot Trip a dirty look. "For the last time, there is absolutely nothing going on between Hoshi and myself."

"But do you want there to be something?"

"There is absolutely nothing going on between Hoshi and myself," Malcolm repeated firmly. "The two of us are friends, just like you and I are."

Trip nodded, an understanding expression on his face. "I get it," he said. "You don't want to talk about it."

"Oh for the love of…" Malcolm barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "How about you tell me some of your plans before I end up killing you?"

A thoughtful look made its way onto Trip's face, and he settled back in his chair. "I'd be happy just to find a woman crazy enough to marry me," he said, grinning slightly. "And, of course, a bunch of kids calling me 'Daddy' and thinking that I'm as close to God as someone can be."

A smile tugged at the corners of Malcolm's mouth. "Little children looking up to you in adoration," he said with mock-seriousness, his eyes twinkling as he spoke. "I believe that might very well be the most terrifying thing I've ever heard."

"Hey!"

Malcolm's small smile turned into a full-fledged grin, but it broke as he suddenly yawned. At that, Trip gave him a pointed look. "Go get some sleep."

It seemed like Malcolm was going to argue with him, but he finally nodded and stood up. "Thanks," he said hesitantly.

Trip shrugged and leaned back in his chair so that its front legs were raised above the floor. "That's what friends are for," he said, grinning widely.

He was still grinning when the back legs of his chair slid forward, sending him crashing to the floor.