Hurt people or break things. T'Pol's fury, on the extremely rare occasion that it presented itself for display, typically ran to one of those two things.
Everyone who knew her knew that. Which would really only be two people on the planet at the moment, who knew her that well. Both of them were in the cargo bug with her when she lost her temper.
Amazingly, though, she didn't do either of those things. She did throw the driver's side door open hard enough that she almost accomplished breaking something, but not quite.
Everyone in the bug watched T'Pol stalk around the front of the vehicle, over to the far side, waiting all the while for the inevitable matter/anti-matter explosion to occur. She simply snatched that door open when she got there instead, grabbing Charles by the arm and yanking him out of the bug...
Trip had his own door open, practically leaping from the vehicle himself. Whatever could be said about his relationship with his father...he was his father, and T'Pol beating the old bastard to death on the side of the highway was something he figured he'd ought to do something about.
T'Pol stopped at that, jerking her attention fiercely to Trip, while Charles scrambled to get his feet under him. Thrusting a finger straight out at him so hard that he almost imagined he felt it in his chest.
"You." T'Pol said, tightly, eyes blazing. "Stay with Rachel."
She was turned away, dragging Charles behind her, before he could even blink at that.
It took him a second to muster the courage...
"T'Pol...!" He called, warningly.
"You stay!" She snapped, over her shoulder.
Trip stayed.
And really, what else was he gonna do? Go over there and stop her from...whatever she was going to do? Yeah, that'd go real well.
So...maybe she wouldn't hurt the old man too bad. And he kinda had it comin' anyway.
T'Pol dragged him far enough into the desert that he finally started protesting. Far enough that the discussion wouldn't be overheard by anyone else.
Then she stopped, slinging her arm on ahead of her to send Charles stumbling forward across the sand. Glaring at him while he staggered, until he stood up straight again. And she kept glaring, until he got the message and refrained from speaking.
He did glower, but was wise enough to turn that out over the desert so as not to provoke her further. And that was sufficient.
She turned away herself, already a little dismayed at the...rictus of emotion disfiguring her face. She breathed deeply, gathering some modicum of control. Some small measure of discipline, if calm and peace were so impossible.
She closed her eyes, bringing the one fist into her other hand. Gripping it tightly, forcing control.
"T'Pol."
He could not possibly be so foolish as to speak to her now...
So she decided that hadn't happened. He hadn't spoken. He was standing there, quietly, saying nothing. Waiting for her to speak her mind, prepared to listen and understand...
"T'Pol, if you've got something to say..."
Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him again, lip twitching in spite of herself.
He stopped speaking at least. So she turned to face him squarely.
"I'm not a child any longer." She said, bitterly.
He had the audacity to snort lightly at that.
"Yeah, I guess you're not." He said, massaging his arm.
"You are very disappointed, I'm sure." T'Pol said, coldly.
That got his attention. His eyes narrowed.
"Well, that's not a very nice thing to say, is it?" He said, turning to face her now. "Never mind how you're six years older than I am, you really want to start throwing blame around here? Alright, I'm game. Let's do that."
T'Pol's eyes widened. That was a challenge.
She stalked forward, fists balled tight. Her eyes wild.
"You have no idea what my instincts demand of me now." She snarled. "There are several different ways I could resolve this situation as a Vulcan. All of them involve violence and death."
"You're not gonna kill me." Charles sneered, without any hesitation. "You're sure not gonna kill Trip. So, what then? You want me and my son to break out the Bowie knives at dawn? Cut each other up over yah? Well, you can just step right off, T'Pol. That ain't gonna happen."
"Or I could simply kill both of you myself." She said, tightly.
"And then go kill your own self after that." Charles said. "Yeah, I read a book or two. Fam'soaki...
"Fam'so'kirah." T'Pol snapped.
"Whatever. Very Vulcan. I bet you could explain the logic and everything."
"No." She sneered. "You could not understand it."
"Well, I'm real heartbroke."
She was too angry to stand still, so she paced, glaring fiercely at him.
Consequently, circling him. Which was perfect.
"So how do Humans resolve these situations?" She sneered. "Shall we hire a therapist? Talk about it?"
"We don't get in this kinda situation all that often."
"There was a time that would have surprised me to hear." She bit back. "I was taught that Humans were like animals in regards to such things. I would rather that I'd understood the truth then. Much of this would have been avoided..."
Charles clenched his jaw.
"Right," He said. "You just didn't know what you were doing, did you?"
That stopped her in her tracks, her eyes just a little wilder and crazier now.
"You knew that I didn't understand." She accused. "You said nothing. Did nothing. Other than take advantage."
"I remember holding out for a while there, T'Pol. You were pretty damned persuasive, though."
Her eyes fluttered for a moment, wrestling with shame. Her anger began to subside as a result, and that...she would rather that didn't happen, to be honest.
"I reckon you've got the same in mind for Trip, right? If you two aren't already shacked up..."
And that struck home as well.
"No." She said, firmly. "At one time, yes, before I understood, but no longer. Now..."
She paused, steeling herself a bit.
"Now I only wanted to heal this family. But I have come to see that it is a family no longer. This cannot be fixed."
"No, reckon it can't." He said.
T'Pol just stared at him. But he said nothing more and her anger was leaving her now. She couldn't even glare comfortably any longer.
So she turned away, taking a deep breath. Letting the self-control she surprisingly didn't even want at the moment return of its own accord.
Truthfully, she would have rather been violent here. Resolved this matter in that fashion, with at least the excuse of these first vestiges of blood fever to fall back on.
That was ironic.
After devoting her entire life to her disciplines, now when she would prefer to be rid of them, to react emotionally...of course they refused to allow it. Even now, with her fever coming upon her.
Ironic, and morbidly humorous as well. Had this situation presented itself perhaps no more than a week from now, she would likely have simply murdered everyone.
Problem solved.
But if logic insisted upon itself, then so be it.
She took a deep breath, still turned away, not facing him.
"I still love Charles Tucker." She said. "Unfortunate and misguided, but nonetheless. I love him for what he represents. For all that he has done for me, what he has meant to me and what we have shared. But as for you...you were never who I thought you were. Knowing you now, as I have come to know you over the last few years, I find I don't even care for you."
She took another breath, holding it...releasing it.
"I've done my duty to you enough here." She said. "I owe you nothing more. We will protect Trip, discover what these demons plan and stop it. Then we will go our separate ways. I don't ever want to see you again after this."
Charles snorted behind her. "If it makes you happy, blaming me, go right ahead. I guess it's just all my fault."
"No, we are both responsible. If it eases your offense, then know that I despise myself as much as I despise you."
"And what about Trip?"
T'Pol sighed.
"I hoped I would be able at least to salvage something of that relationship. Now I believe even that may be lost. If I must be alone, then so be it."
Charles was quiet for a moment.
"Maybe that's for the best." He said.
T'Pol turned around at that, to face him again.
"I didn't ask for your opinion," She said, flatly. "Nor do I value it."
He only smirked back at her. "You know, I'm starting to remember why we split up."
"Good." She said.
Charles still smirked and that tempted her to anger again. But she didn't bother, it was largely pointless.
He sighed then suddenly. An overly dramatic, long-suffering sigh.
"The demon's name is Jahi." He said, frowning. "That's who's behind this. I've got her trapped in a salt mine down in Florida."
T'Pol stared for a moment...
...until what he'd just said finally sank in.
"What...?" She stuttered. "Why did you not say this before?"
"Doesn't matter, it's already over."
T'Pol blinked again.
"What do you mean?" She asked. "What is over?"
"Today was the day." He shrugged. "Some big ritual. They wanted to open a door to the pit."
"That's...not possible." T'Pol frowned. "What are you talking about, Charles?"
"It apparently is possible." He said, shrugging. "Any minute now Vulcan, Andoria and Tellar will line up perfectly. One sacrifice each, somebody picked out from a group on each world, just like the one I took out here. A triangle of individual, sentient species. Then one more here, a Human, on Earth, which just happens to be the focal point. That's it. The pit would have opened up right here."
T'Pol stared, already overwhelmed.
Charles just shrugged.
"Charles...the worst of the demons are consigned there." She said, uncertainly. "Those so depraved and destructive that early confinement actually proved necessary..."
"Right." He said. "Jahi wanted to turn Earth into a big playground. Risa for demons. Open up the pit and throw a big party for the whole galaxy."
"But...why?"
"Because she's a fun lovin' gal, I guess."
T'Pol's eyes flickered, thinking that through rapidly. Allowing her mind to make all the connections, identify all the relevant points...
"No." She decided. "The angels would never allow that. They would react in force."
"I haven't seen them doing much about it so far, T'Pol." Charles argued.
"Hence your own actions." She accused then. "You are out of control, Charles. You have murdered innocents..."
"Innocent my ass." He argued. "Every one of them was already drunk on demon blood. They already sold themselves out. I'm just trying to keep Trip out of it."
"Yes, I'm sure he appreciates what you've done."
"He can hate me if he wants. I don't care."
"You care about very little."
"I care about Trip." Charles insisted. "And I care about you, too. Whether you believe it or not."
"In your own way, I suppose you do." She conceded. "But that is insufficient, Charles. We will not participate in your plan and we will not turn our backs on demons. Show us to your salt mine and we will deal with Jahi directly."
"No, what you're gonna do is take Trip back to that Starfleet school." Charles insisted. "I'll drop Rachel off with Dusty and you get yourself to Austin. Jahi's got about..."
He fished his PADD out of his pocket, checking it with a glance.
"...twenty minutes to get out of two devil's traps and a salt mine, get to Trip or Bobby, get 'em drunk on demon blood and trick 'em into blasting a door to the pit. I got a feeling she's not gonna make it. The rituals have already started everywhere else but here. This is over, T'Pol."
T'Pol just cocked her eyebrow at him.
"Charles," She observed, patiently. "You seem to be under the impression you still have some authority here. As I've said, I am a child no longer. Trip likewise. You will show us to the salt mine and Jahi, and we will use your blade, the thresh-rasahk, to consign her to the pit, to be absolutely certain. She may still seek revenge against you. That puts Trip at risk."
"No." He said, simply. And firmly.
T'Pol stared for a moment, surprised.
"You will, Charles." She insisted.
"Or what?"
"This must be ended," She said. "For Trip's sake at the least."
"It's already over."
"Jahi is still out there. And we are to trust you with that? The judgment you've displayed so far has been lacking, to say the least."
"I've accomplished a hell of lot more than you have in the last two days."
"Charles..."
"It's already done. Why else do you think I'm standing here?"
"Then take us to her."
"T'Pol, dammit, no. The whole point was to keep you both out of this."
"And if I insist?"
"Insist all you like, ain't gonna happen. In fact, all you're doing is holding me up, T'Pol. I've got to get back to Florida and with Erickson's teleporter thing on the fritz, that's gonna take half a day already. I'll take care of Jahi."
"Then you require a vehicle." T'Pol said, turning to point at the cargo bug. "I have a one available, right there..."
"Dammit, T'Pol!" Charles suddenly yelled. "I'm giving you a way out! Take it!"
T'Pol blinked at the unexpected outburst.
And saw that Charles was unusually emotional suddenly.
"For Trip's sake," He pleaded then. "Take it. Get out of this. Get him out of this."
T'Pol could only stare, unsure how to react now.
"T'Pol...why do you think half of these people were hunters?" He asked, desperately. "Because of what happened to them. Just like you and me. Wasting our lives trying to find some kind of revenge. Some kind of justice. We ain't ever gonna have that. There's no such thing."
T'Pol hesitated...
"Charles...I..."
"Darlin', this is the best I could do. I'm sorry. I've killed to give you this chance. You and Trip. So you can be free of this."
T'Pol closed her eyes painfully at that.
And she sighed.
"Charles...how can not know me any better than that?" She asked, sadly. "I don't want to be free of this. I have nothing else now. I cannot go home, I can never be mated, my family is lost. This is all that I have..."
"Then for Trip's sake." Charles pressed. "You're all he has. Get him out of this and get clear of it yourself, for him."
T'Pol shook her head, sadly.
"That relationship is lost..."
"No it isn't. Don't be so Human."
That got him a funny look.
"You're Vulcan, he's Human." Charles said. "Give him a few years, he'll get over it. Hell, he already is over it. You've got plenty of time and you've said it yourself, Humans are...'remarkably adaptable'."
T'Pol scowled at that. "I have already said I have no intention of mating him..."
"But you can still have him in your life. And I'd sure as hell rather he had you to rely on. Who the hell else?"
T'Pol...could find no argument to that...
But, still...
"And why not hook up with him?" Charles pointed out. "You'd have a hard time finding a better match."
She startled, staring in surprise. That he'd said that.
"Settle down and get out of this life, T'Pol." Charles said, confidently. "You said you had nothing else...but you could have. Just give it time. You're Vulcan, you've got plenty of time. I'm offering you everything you've ever wanted and never thought you could have. You can have it."
T'Pol struggled, eyes wandered wildly, trying to...argue...to find the logic...
"And I'm not just asking you to do this, T'Pol." He said, more firmly now. "I'm not giving you any other choice. Get him out of this. I'll get Rachel to Dusty, he's on the way. Jahi will be in the pit by midnight tonight, I promise you."
T'Pol stared at the ground, not meeting his eyes.
"Darlin', please. Do it for Trip..."
"Very well." She said, quietly. "I will."
They let Charles out at the rental agency and stuck around long enough for him to pick out something reliable.
T'Pol paid for it, of course.
Trip was on hand to toss him his bag when he pulled up and got out, Rachel standing by to glare at him.
Charles looked back at Rachel, frowning.
"You ready?" He asked, gruffly.
She just glared.
"What?" He frowned.
"B-b-b-bobby." Rachel stuttered out, angrily.
Charles just frowned at that for a moment. Then looked over at T'Pol.
"Well, this is gonna be a fun trip." He grumped.
Trip didn't wait any longer, stepping forward to pick up the bag he'd tossed over just a moment ago. Walking over to throw it in the trunk himself, since dad was taking so long. Slamming the trunk shut before walking back over to the bug.
Rachel walked over angrily to do some slamming of her own. Snatching the passenger side door open, flouncing into the seat and slamming the door shut again.
Charles frowned.
"Yeah," He grumbled. "Fun trip."
He looked back at Trip and T'Pol. At T'Pol first, where she simply looked on passively, as if nothing were occurring here of any interest to her at all.
Then to Trip, where he at least had the decency to glower a bit.
"No girly moments, I guess." Charles said. "That's good. You two take care."
He turned away.
And Trip suddenly huffed a little, relenting.
"Dad..."
"Alright, look." Charles said, turning back. "How about I drop by for a beer sometime and you can tell me all about what a bastard I am then?"
Trip chuckled almost immediately, obviously not meaning to.
"Fine." He grinned. "Let's do that."
Charles nodded.
"But..." Trip said, uncomfortably. "Dad, just...be careful."
Charles smirked at that.
"Hell, that don't sound like no kinda fun."
And he winked, turning back to the rental car. Climbing in, starting it up and backing out of the lot with nothing more than that.
Trip watched him drive away, arms folded at his chest. Until it could accurately be said that he was gone.
"Okay, so how are we gonna get there before he does?" He asked. "Tell me you know where this salt mine is, at least."
T'Pol was quiet, not answering. Until he looked over at her, curiously.
"We are not going." She said, quietly.
Trip dropped his arms at that, because that was pretty much the opposite of anything he might have expected she'd say right then.
"What do you mean we're not going?" He demanded. "Of course we're going. We can't let him..."
"No." T'Pol said, resolutely. "We are not going. You are returning to STC. I am going on to Austin."
Trip stared, shocked.
"T'Pol..."
"Your semester finals begin tomorrow, Trip." She said, firmly. "And I am...already having difficulty."
Trip stared still, a little rocked by that.
Then turned to look back at the road, where his father had gone on without him.
"Well, God." He sighed. "I..."
"There is nothing more for us to do, Trip." T'Pol said. "We have done our part here."
Trip ran his fingers through is hair, trying to absorb that. And he swallowed.
"I can't believe...are we just going to let him go? We went through a lot of trouble to find him, T'Pol."
"It is the logical thing to do." She said. "We found him."
"Yeah, I...I know. I guess...I just wasn't ready to..."
"Trip, come on." She said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "We have matters of our own to see to. Your father can take it from here."
She stepped away, toward the cargo bug, watching him until she saw that he would follow.
And she took her time, departing in a leisurely manner, to give him space to adjust. To accept that he was done here and for the realization to occur to him that the time had come to leave this life behind him again. To remember that is what he desired to do, having forgotten that in the chaos of the last two days.
They were crossing the Nevada border before he lost the slightly glazed look in his eyes. Accepting at last that it truly was over, at least for them. Adjusting, finding his comfort again with that. Smiling over at her slightly to let her know this, whether or not he realized that he did so.
She looked back at him then...and she took his hand for moment, across the front seat of the bug.
A starkly intimate gesture of affection, yes. But he allowed it and accepted it for a moment, and that was good.
She drove on then, leaving him to his thought. Leaving him to remember he was not a hunter any longer. That he was Starfleet cadet and that semester finals awaited him. Finals he'd spent the entire weekend doing something entirely removed from anything like studying for.
She drove and she allowed time to begin to pass unhindered.
Because it would take time and that she would simply have to endure. She was Vulcan, and so no stranger to that. A small price to pay for whatever she might yet salvage from the only relationship she had left in the universe. The only love she could still lay claim to.
Rachel was stiff and angry in the passenger's seat, from the moment they left the rental agency until now, several dozen kilometers down the highway, heading east.
Charles ignored her at first, but it had gotten pretty boring a long way back. So he began to sing quietly to himself.
"Busted flat in Baton Rouge," He sang. "Waitin' for a train. And I's feeling nearly as faded as my jeans."
He smiled over at Rachel, where she already glared at him.
"Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained. It rode us all the way to New Orleans."
Charles grinned outright now, and Rachel glared all the more, jaw tense.
And he sang a little louder, just to piss her off.
"I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandanna. I was playing soft while Bobby sang the blues."
"Sh-sh-shut up." Rachel seethed.
"Windshield wipers slapping time," Charles continued, happily. "I was holding Bobby's hand in mine. We sang every song that driver knew."
Rachel hauled back and slammed her foot against the dashboard, glaring burning, bloody daggers at him across the front seat.
Teeth bared, breathing heavy. Furious.
Charles chuckled at that.
And he pulled the car off the road, coming to a stop.
Smiling, once they'd come to rest. And then sighing not at all sincerely.
"Well," He said, smirked. "If you figure you can s-s-stutter a word or two now, let's go ahead and have this out."
Rachel glared murderously back at him.
And flipped him the bird, middle finger presented rather aggressively about half a meter from his face.
"Sign language," Charles noted, appreciatively. "Well, that's a start."
"L-l-l-lies." Rachel struggled out, huffing. "T-t-trip."
Charles nodded.
"Yeah," He said. "I lied to the boy. It's kinda my thing."
And he blinked.
Eyes suddenly as black as night. As black as the deepest depths of cold space.
And he smirked at her when her eyes flew wide at that.
Rachel was quick. She'd been a hunter for some years now and the value of reacting instantly to a situation like that had been driven home many times already. But she was unarmed. She had nothing at all to fight with.
So she ran. The very split second she realized all of that.
She barely got the door open with one foot out before he had her by the hair, and he jerked her back harshly, her head falling almost in his lap, legs flung out of the door.
Knife at her throat, so that she froze immediately. Staring up at the cold, black eyes grinning down at her.
"Sorry, darlin'." Charles said. "But you know too much. Can't have to t-t-talking to the kids, can we?"
Rachel was screwed. She knew that perfectly well.
So she went ahead and started fighting, knife at her throat or not.
Charles simply swung over with his free hand, punching her in the stomach. Knocking the breath out of her and leaving her to heave with the effort to breath again.
"Now, I know you've been through a lot, little girl, so I'll make this quick." Charles smirked.
Then cocked his head a little, rethinking that.
"But, then again," He grinned. "What's the fun in that?"
He began to cut, while Rachel gave everything she had to screaming and fighting. Accomplishing little of either.
And Charles picked up where he'd left off.
"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose." He sang. "Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free, now now."
Outside the car, Rachel somehow found enough leverage to kick the passenger window enough to crack it...but Charles ignored that. He could drive with that window down.
"And feeling good was easy, Lawd, when he sang the blues..."
Rachel's hand managed one good grip on the knife hand, but Charles simply broke it at the wrist with one hard strike. And took the opportunity to slash at the tendons of the other arm, so she wouldn't bother him with that one for a while either.
"You know feeling good was good enough for me..."
There wasn't much Rachel could do after that. She tried, of course, because there was in fact nothing left to lose.
"Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee."