Author's Note: Thanks to Distracted for some medical ideas. Any screw-ups here are my fault, not hers.

ACT ONE

The urge to cry had been firmly suppressed by the time Trip Tucker's brother arrived.

Seeing his normally composed mother on the verge of a complete emotional collapse had struck Trip with devastating force, and immediately brought to mind dark memories of her at his sister's memorial service immediately prior to the Expanse mission. In his thirty-six years, Trip could count on one hand the number of times that his mother had cried openly, and seeing her so visibly distraught had nearly undone him as well. Only the emotional control he'd acquired from T'Pol helped him to stay functional at the sight of his father's wan complexion; and, for perhaps the first time in his life, Trip realized that his parents looked ... old.

It was a sobering realization, particularly when he considered the fact that T'Pol was only a few years younger than either of his parents, but it struck him with such force that his knees nearly buckled. Modern medical science had extended the life expectancy of a human being well into the low hundreds, but the number of people who lived to reach that age remained few. As he held his sobbing mother in his arms, the thought that she had already reached the twilight of her life was an insidious thought that refused to leave him alone, and the glances he gave his father didn't ease his mind very much.

Officially, it was a case of acute myocardial infarction that had landed Charles Tucker Junior in the hospital and, as Trip learned, was likely to keep him here for a while. A fancy name for a heart attack, the condition was a culmination of a number of factors, not the least of which was Charlie Tucker's absolute refusal to retire from his job as a structural engineer, despite his doctor's recommendation. According to Trip's mother, the elder Charles Tucker had kept the results of his last doctor visit secret from even her and it was only lucky happenstance that found them at the hospital visiting a friend when the heart attack occurred. The attending doctor had been grim in his outlook: Charles Tucker was lucky to have even survived.

Trip tried not to think about how much his father's work ethic had influenced his own.

Though it had taken more persuasive ability than he thought he was capable of, Trip had finally managed to convince his mother to go home for several hours and get some rest. That she was physically exhausted had been clear the moment Trip arrived at the hospital, and it was his sincere hope that she would just collapse in bed for a couple of hours once she got home. A friendly neighbor had offered to make sure that Elaine Tucker got home without incident, which eased Trip's mind significantly. Even with the autodrive option on his parent's car, he didn't care for the idea of his mother driving home alone – not in her current condition, anyway.

Nearly four hours after his mother's departure from the hospital and over six since his own arrival, Trip's younger brother William appeared in the doorway of Charles Junior's room. Billy was still bleary-eyed from his long flight but wore a somber expression that Trip knew was mirrored on his own face. Three hours from Dublin to Jacksonville was nothing compared to how long it had been in the early years of trans-Atlantic crossings, but making the trip in the dead of the night with no early warning was anything but easy.

"How's Mom?" Billy asked once their requisite back thumping hug had been exchanged, and Trip smirked at the hint of an Irish brogue now beginning to creep into his younger brother's accent. It was a curious thing, mixing a Gaelic accent with a Southern American one, and Trip could only wonder what his own dialect would sound like in fifteen years if he and T'Pol retired to Vulcan after the war.

"She's doing okay," Trip replied with a heavy sigh. "As well as could be expected, I guess." He stretched slightly, feeling his joints pop as he did so. "I managed to talk her into taking a break for a couple of hours. Aunt Linda said she'd swing by and check up on her when she arrives in town." For a moment, he and Billy stood quietly before their unconscious father.

"Any word from Lisa?" came Billy's next question, and Trip frowned darkly at mention of his older sister.

"Not a word," he growled, at once furious that their continuing feud had resulted in the eldest Tucker child apparently deciding to not even show up at what could easily be their father's death bed. "I left messages, but no one responded."

The disagreement had started early in Trip's Starfleet career when Melissa accused him of abandoning the family for, in her words, "militant expansionism". It had simmered for years afterward, ever a source of tension in their rare interactions, before finally exploding into a full out pique of fury when the Xindi attack resulted in Elizabeth's death. By the time Enterprise made it back to Earth, Melissa had convinced the rest of his family that Starfleet, and thus, by default, Trip himself, was responsible for the attack. No one aboard Enterprise had even been aware of the situation, nor even suspected that Trip had spent next to no time with his family before shipping out for the Expanse mission. In his anger and grief, Trip had even adjusted his personnel file to reflect only one sibling: the now-deceased Elizabeth Tucker.

"You know how she is," Billy reminded him, and Trip nodded in annoyance. Having grown up with her, he knew exactly what she was like.

"Yeah, but you'd think she'd have the decency to at least show up," Trip snapped. "I mean, this is Dad!" William gave him a knowing look, and Trip closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing and recalling the lessons that T'Pol had spent so much time drilling into him. This was hardly the ideal time to let his emotions flare and bring up old problems.

"So," Trip asked after a long moment of silence, "how's Mary?" His brother smiled at mention of his wife's name.

"Pregnant," came the proud response.

"Again?" Trip didn't mean to sound aghast, but the idea of six children left him just a little freaked out. Billy grinned.

"What can I say?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I love my wife."

"At least six times," Trip snickered. He expertly dodged out of his brother's half-hearted attempt to hit him on the shoulder before quickly holding his hands up in a surrender pose. "Congratulations," he said, offering his hand. "Boy or girl?" A flicker of sadness crossed Billy's face and Trip knew that meant his brother would soon be having another son.

"What d'ya think?" Billy asked with a momentarily sour look on his face. "I love my boys to death but I really wanted a girl, ya know?"

Pain stabbed through Trip at the comment as a mental picture of an impossibly adorable girl with his eyes and T'Pol's ears flashed across his mind's eye, once more reminding him of what Terra Prime had stolen from him. He glanced away, barely noticing the sudden expression of anguish and embarrassment that crossed William's face. Anger warred with the constant sadness, and Trip clenched his hand tightly before drawing a steadying breath. With effort, he pushed the emotions down, burying them under a layer of rigid control that let him function normally. He wasn't surprised to see the remorse on Billy's face.

"Trip, I'm–" his brother started, an apologetic tone in his voice, but Trip waved it away.

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted, a forced smile on his face. "Got a name picked out yet?" It was clearly an attempt to shift the subject and, from the expression on Billy's face, the younger Tucker recognized it as such. Once more, discomfort crossed William's face and he hesitated for a long moment before replying.

"We were thinking about naming him Charles Anthony," he said softly, glancing away in an obvious attempt to avoid meeting his older brother's eyes, and Charles Anthony Tucker III smiled in understanding.

It was an entirely logical decision, and if T'Pol had been present, Trip knew exactly what her response would have been. It was, in fact, a feeling that he shared. The chances that she would actually bear his children so he could pass on his name grew smaller with each day, as the war with the Romulans continued to drag on and the list of casualties grew. They had been lucky so far, despite the deaths that had taken place around them and the injuries they had sustained, but neither harbored any doubt that their luck would hold out forever. Recent events had only served as a stark reminder that either of them could die well before the war ended and, though he'd never said it aloud, he simply knew that he wouldn't outlive T'Pol for very long in such an event. A discreet and surprisingly candid conversation with Soval had revealed to him just how traumatic the death of a bonded mate could be and, if it could potentially kill a Vulcan, Trip sincerely doubted his human brain could handle it.

Not that he would want to live without T'Pol...

"That's a really good idea," Trip declared as he dropped a hand onto his brother's shoulder. He gave the younger man a sad smile and they exchanged a long knowing look, conveying more with their eyes than any words ever could. Finally, Billy nodded.

"I'll let her know," he said before returning his attention to their unconscious father. "Where's T'Pol, by the way?" Billy asked, the twinkle returning to his eyes despite the innocent-sounding question. Of everyone in the family, William Tucker seemed to have accepted T'Pol the the most quickly, and Trip loved his brother dearly for it.

Not that he would ever admit such a thing.

"Finishing Endeavour's refit." Trip found himself frowning at thought of the work that remained unfinished on his ship and was, once again, glad to see that his brother still knew when to let things drop. For another long moment, they stood in awkward silence, neither really knowing what else to say. They had few common interests anymore, with William being a journalist-turned-newspaper editor and Trip an engineer-turned-captain. The necessity for operational security (OPSEC, for short) further made it essential for the elder Tucker to watch what he said when he wasn't aboard his ship. As a result, their already infrequent conversations rarely touched on anything Starfleet-related.

"New uniforms, huh?" Billy finally commented, and Trip gave him a slightly annoyed look.

"I hate these damned things," he grumbled to his younger brother as he readjusted the jacket for a better fit. "We're in a war for our very survival out there, and some idiot at Command thought it'd be a good idea to change our wardrobe." Trip glared at nothing in particular as he continued. He held out one arm and gestured to the command stripes that encircled the lower sleeve. "How the hell am I supposed to know what these damned things mean?" Billy's grin was growing by the second as Trip continued. "Who thinks about fashion at a time like this?" he asked.

"Some idiot at Command," came his brother's amused response. "Can I quote you on that? My readers would love to hear the official reaction to Starfleet's new militarized look."

"Oh God," Trip lamented softly, "not you too." He gave his younger brother a dark look before glancing at the biobed readouts above his father's bed. "Do you know how tired I am of hearing this nonsense about Starfleet being the military?"

"You are the military, Trip," Billy said softly. A hint of contempt was within the younger Tucker's voice, once more reminding Trip of how little he actually had in common with his family. It was depressing, actually.

With a sigh, he took a seat and began to wait.