Title: The Family Way
Authors: Sita/T'eyla
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: PG
Codes: T/T, R
Summary: Enterprise is en route to Vulcan, and Trip, T'Pol and their little son have to face T'Pol's family, who declared her an outcast because of her marriage. Then, however, something happens that changes everything...
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise, we're not making any money from this.
----------------------------
Chapter 2: Loved Ones
The intercom bleeped.
Trip groaned, turning over and burying his head into the pillow. He tried to ignore the noise, but the bleeping persisted. Sighing he pushed the covers aside, sat up and hit the comm button.
"Tucker."
A strange noise came over the intercom, sounding almost like a cough.
"Reed here. Trip, you'd better come down to the Armoury. Quick." Malcolm's voice sounded strained. Trip frowned.
"What's up?"
"There was an explosion. T'Pol's been hurt."
For a moment Trip sat frozen with shock. As he tried to get up, his feet got tangled in the covers and he nearly stumbled. With shaking hands he pulled on his pants, almost stumbling again in the process. Taking a quick glance at Sam's cot where the baby lay still sleeping, he rushed from his quarters.
As he entered the Armoury, Phlox and his medical team were already there. The room smelled of smoke and burned wire and there was debris strewn everywhere. Trip's eyes fell on T'Pol who was just being lifted onto a gurney by Dr. Phlox and Crewman Cutler. He felt his knees weaken. She looked - dead, green blood smeared everywhere. She didn't move at all when they lay her down on the gurney.
"Trip." He felt a hand on his arm, and, turning his head, he looked into Malcolm's pale face. There was a deep gash on the Armoury Officer's forehead and his left arm was dangling limply at his side.
"What... what happened?" Trip managed.
"I don't really know." Malcolm's voice sounded rough as he spoke. "Suddenly the instruments went haywire, and then the whole thing exploded. T'Pol was standing right in front of it... " He trailed off. Trip looked back at Phlox and his team, who had just finished securing her on the gurney. Somehow Trip managed the few steps towards T'Pol, sinking to his knees beside her. As he looked at the back of her uniform drenched with blood he felt his stomach clench. He raised his head and looked at Phlox, who was just pressing a hypospray against T'Pol's neck.
"Will she ...will she make it?" he asked, his voice sounding as rough as Malcolm's. Phlox looked up at him.
"I don't know yet, Commander. I need to take her to sickbay immediately, though. Please get out of the way. Ensign Li..."
One of Phlox's assistants helped Trip to his feet, gently pulling him aside as they carried the gurney away. Not letting go of his arm Ensign Li guided Trip towards the door, motioning Reed to follow him as well. On the way out Malcolm opened his mouth once or twice as if to say something, but Trip didn't notice. He stared straight ahead, blindly following Li as he guided them to sickbay.
-###-
Trip sat on one of the bio beds, staring at the closed doors of the operating room. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even hold the glass of water Ensign Li had brought him half an hour ago. Li had also offered to give him something that would help him "calm down", but Trip didn't want any tranquilizers. He had to be awake when... fear twisted his stomach so hard he thought he would be sick. He wanted to get up, to pace, do something that would make this terrible numbness go away, but he knew his legs wouldn't support him. Trip had never realized before that fear could actually hurt.
Two hours ago they had taken T'Pol in there, closing the doors, leaving him alone with nothing to do but wait, sitting here dreading the moment when Dr. Phlox came out again, telling him it was over. Trip closed his eyes, trying not to think of T'Pol on that gurney, pale and spattered with blood, but the image wouldn't go away. That was how he would remember her, the last time he had seen her alive... despair welled up in him and suddenly he couldn't bear it any longer. Trip buried his face in his hands and felt the wetness between his fingers.
Just then he heard the sickbay doors open.
Please let it not be Malcolm, he thought, I can't deal with that now, can't have him telling me that it was all his fault.... After Reed's arm had been set and splinted, the Lieutenant had tried to talk to him, saying something about an experiment gone wrong, clearly blaming himself for what had happened, but Trip hadn't really listened. He'd just wanted him and Li to leave him alone, and after a while they had given up trying to make him talk. Li had sent Malcolm to his quarters to get some rest, and the Armoury Officer had complied, not looking back at Trip who'd hardly noticed him leaving.
Trip didn't raise his head as he heard footsteps coming nearer. A warm hand rested on his arm.
"Trip." Jon's voice. Trip looked up to see Jonathan Archer standing beside him, a concerned expression on his face. He looked paler than usual, but it might as well have been the harsh light of the ceiling lamps outlining his features. As he spoke, his voice was very soft.
"Trip, maybe it'd be better if you got out of here for a while."
Trip shook his head. He knew Jon was trying to help him and he appreciated it, but at the same time he just wished they would all go away and leave him alone.
"Thanks, Jon," he managed to say. "I need to be here when..." He bit down on his lip hard, but he couldn't keep the tears from running down his cheeks. Angrily he wiped his hand over his face. He didn't want to cry. If only he'd leave me alone, he thought desperately, but of course Jon had no intention of doing so. Instead he sat down on the biobed next to Trip and put an arm around his shoulders.
"It's ok," he said quietly. "I'll stay here with you. Hoshi's taking care of Sam now."
Trip nodded. When they had arrived in sickbay two hours ago, Archer had been there too, but then he hadn't tried to talk to Trip, seeing that his friend was in no condition to listen to anyone at the moment. He'd just quietly offered to go to Trip's quarters and look after Sam, and Trip had been grateful that there was someone who didn't ask any questions but just took matters in hands.
Now Jon didn't ask any questions either, just sat there with his arm around Trip's shoulders, and Trip realized that he didn't want Archer to leave, after all. Somehow Jon's presence was helping him to get a grip on himself and he was able to ask the question that had been pounding in his head ever since the doors had closed behind T'Pol and the doctor.
"What am I gonna do if she doesn't make it, Jon?" he whispered. Jon held him tight and there was a moment of silence before he answered.
"She's going to make it, Trip. Phlox is the best doctor I've ever known. He'll be able to help her, I'm sure of that."
Trip closed his eyes. The confidence in Jon's voice was reassuring, even though Trip knew Jon was trying to sound optimistic. It was no use going over the same questions again and again. All he could do was wait, trying to be ready for whatever was coming.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes. When the doors of the operating room swished open, Trip startled. He raised his head and saw Phlox who was pulling off his surgery gloves, looking rather exhausted. Trip opened his mouth but his throat was too dry and no sound came out. Archer's grip on his shoulder tightened.
"Doc?" he heard Jon ask, his voice tense. Phlox looked up at them, his usual wide smile rather weary.
"She'll live."
Relief washed over him, so intense it made him feel sick. Trip never even felt the tears running down his face when Jon wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Distantly, he heard Jon's voice:
"How is she?"
Phlox didn't answer immediately and Trip turned away from Jon, looking at the doctor who had taken a seat on a bio bed next to them.
"She has a severe cranial trauma," Phlox said after a moment. "I was able to keep her alive, but barely." Phlox looked down at his hands. "She seems to have lapsed into a coma."
Trip felt his throat constrict. He swallowed.
"Will you...will you be able to help her?" he asked, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. Phlox shook his head.
"I'm not sure. Head injuries are always extremely dangerous, and I can't tell for sure what effects it will have on a Vulcan's brain. I'm sorry, Commander. That's all I can tell you at the moment."
Trip nodded, feeling Jon's hand on his arm.
"Can I see her?" he asked. Phlox got up from the bed.
"Certainly. She's in the IC Unit now."
On unsteady legs, Trip followed the doctor. There was only one bed occupied in the small room, the drawn curtains hiding it from view. Phlox pushed aside the thin fabric and motioned Trip and Jon to come closer. Trip's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on T'Pol. She looked small and fragile in that bed, surrounded by life support instruments, small lights flashing steadily. Except for a dark bruise on her left cheek there was no visible injury, but there seemed to be no life left in her, her pale face vacant of every expression. Trip cleared his throat and looked up at Phlox.
"Could you...could I have a few minutes alone with her?" he asked. Phlox nodded.
"Of course, Commander. We'll wait outside."
Jon squeezed his shoulder one more time, then he followed the doctor out of the room. Trip pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed. Carefully he took one of her hands lying motionless on the blanket, holding it in his own.
"T'Pol. I'm here, T'Pol. You know that, don't you?"
There was no sign she had heard him, but her hand was reassuringly warm against his skin.
"Don't give up," he whispered. "You hear me? Don't you die on me. I need you. And Sam does too. We both need you so much."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Not letting go of her hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed. For a long time he sat there, looking down at his wife, not uttering a single word.
Authors: Sita/T'eyla
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: PG
Codes: T/T, R
Summary: Enterprise is en route to Vulcan, and Trip, T'Pol and their little son have to face T'Pol's family, who declared her an outcast because of her marriage. Then, however, something happens that changes everything...
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Enterprise, we're not making any money from this.
----------------------------
Chapter 2: Loved Ones
The intercom bleeped.
Trip groaned, turning over and burying his head into the pillow. He tried to ignore the noise, but the bleeping persisted. Sighing he pushed the covers aside, sat up and hit the comm button.
"Tucker."
A strange noise came over the intercom, sounding almost like a cough.
"Reed here. Trip, you'd better come down to the Armoury. Quick." Malcolm's voice sounded strained. Trip frowned.
"What's up?"
"There was an explosion. T'Pol's been hurt."
For a moment Trip sat frozen with shock. As he tried to get up, his feet got tangled in the covers and he nearly stumbled. With shaking hands he pulled on his pants, almost stumbling again in the process. Taking a quick glance at Sam's cot where the baby lay still sleeping, he rushed from his quarters.
As he entered the Armoury, Phlox and his medical team were already there. The room smelled of smoke and burned wire and there was debris strewn everywhere. Trip's eyes fell on T'Pol who was just being lifted onto a gurney by Dr. Phlox and Crewman Cutler. He felt his knees weaken. She looked - dead, green blood smeared everywhere. She didn't move at all when they lay her down on the gurney.
"Trip." He felt a hand on his arm, and, turning his head, he looked into Malcolm's pale face. There was a deep gash on the Armoury Officer's forehead and his left arm was dangling limply at his side.
"What... what happened?" Trip managed.
"I don't really know." Malcolm's voice sounded rough as he spoke. "Suddenly the instruments went haywire, and then the whole thing exploded. T'Pol was standing right in front of it... " He trailed off. Trip looked back at Phlox and his team, who had just finished securing her on the gurney. Somehow Trip managed the few steps towards T'Pol, sinking to his knees beside her. As he looked at the back of her uniform drenched with blood he felt his stomach clench. He raised his head and looked at Phlox, who was just pressing a hypospray against T'Pol's neck.
"Will she ...will she make it?" he asked, his voice sounding as rough as Malcolm's. Phlox looked up at him.
"I don't know yet, Commander. I need to take her to sickbay immediately, though. Please get out of the way. Ensign Li..."
One of Phlox's assistants helped Trip to his feet, gently pulling him aside as they carried the gurney away. Not letting go of his arm Ensign Li guided Trip towards the door, motioning Reed to follow him as well. On the way out Malcolm opened his mouth once or twice as if to say something, but Trip didn't notice. He stared straight ahead, blindly following Li as he guided them to sickbay.
-###-
Trip sat on one of the bio beds, staring at the closed doors of the operating room. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn't even hold the glass of water Ensign Li had brought him half an hour ago. Li had also offered to give him something that would help him "calm down", but Trip didn't want any tranquilizers. He had to be awake when... fear twisted his stomach so hard he thought he would be sick. He wanted to get up, to pace, do something that would make this terrible numbness go away, but he knew his legs wouldn't support him. Trip had never realized before that fear could actually hurt.
Two hours ago they had taken T'Pol in there, closing the doors, leaving him alone with nothing to do but wait, sitting here dreading the moment when Dr. Phlox came out again, telling him it was over. Trip closed his eyes, trying not to think of T'Pol on that gurney, pale and spattered with blood, but the image wouldn't go away. That was how he would remember her, the last time he had seen her alive... despair welled up in him and suddenly he couldn't bear it any longer. Trip buried his face in his hands and felt the wetness between his fingers.
Just then he heard the sickbay doors open.
Please let it not be Malcolm, he thought, I can't deal with that now, can't have him telling me that it was all his fault.... After Reed's arm had been set and splinted, the Lieutenant had tried to talk to him, saying something about an experiment gone wrong, clearly blaming himself for what had happened, but Trip hadn't really listened. He'd just wanted him and Li to leave him alone, and after a while they had given up trying to make him talk. Li had sent Malcolm to his quarters to get some rest, and the Armoury Officer had complied, not looking back at Trip who'd hardly noticed him leaving.
Trip didn't raise his head as he heard footsteps coming nearer. A warm hand rested on his arm.
"Trip." Jon's voice. Trip looked up to see Jonathan Archer standing beside him, a concerned expression on his face. He looked paler than usual, but it might as well have been the harsh light of the ceiling lamps outlining his features. As he spoke, his voice was very soft.
"Trip, maybe it'd be better if you got out of here for a while."
Trip shook his head. He knew Jon was trying to help him and he appreciated it, but at the same time he just wished they would all go away and leave him alone.
"Thanks, Jon," he managed to say. "I need to be here when..." He bit down on his lip hard, but he couldn't keep the tears from running down his cheeks. Angrily he wiped his hand over his face. He didn't want to cry. If only he'd leave me alone, he thought desperately, but of course Jon had no intention of doing so. Instead he sat down on the biobed next to Trip and put an arm around his shoulders.
"It's ok," he said quietly. "I'll stay here with you. Hoshi's taking care of Sam now."
Trip nodded. When they had arrived in sickbay two hours ago, Archer had been there too, but then he hadn't tried to talk to Trip, seeing that his friend was in no condition to listen to anyone at the moment. He'd just quietly offered to go to Trip's quarters and look after Sam, and Trip had been grateful that there was someone who didn't ask any questions but just took matters in hands.
Now Jon didn't ask any questions either, just sat there with his arm around Trip's shoulders, and Trip realized that he didn't want Archer to leave, after all. Somehow Jon's presence was helping him to get a grip on himself and he was able to ask the question that had been pounding in his head ever since the doors had closed behind T'Pol and the doctor.
"What am I gonna do if she doesn't make it, Jon?" he whispered. Jon held him tight and there was a moment of silence before he answered.
"She's going to make it, Trip. Phlox is the best doctor I've ever known. He'll be able to help her, I'm sure of that."
Trip closed his eyes. The confidence in Jon's voice was reassuring, even though Trip knew Jon was trying to sound optimistic. It was no use going over the same questions again and again. All he could do was wait, trying to be ready for whatever was coming.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes. When the doors of the operating room swished open, Trip startled. He raised his head and saw Phlox who was pulling off his surgery gloves, looking rather exhausted. Trip opened his mouth but his throat was too dry and no sound came out. Archer's grip on his shoulder tightened.
"Doc?" he heard Jon ask, his voice tense. Phlox looked up at them, his usual wide smile rather weary.
"She'll live."
Relief washed over him, so intense it made him feel sick. Trip never even felt the tears running down his face when Jon wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. Distantly, he heard Jon's voice:
"How is she?"
Phlox didn't answer immediately and Trip turned away from Jon, looking at the doctor who had taken a seat on a bio bed next to them.
"She has a severe cranial trauma," Phlox said after a moment. "I was able to keep her alive, but barely." Phlox looked down at his hands. "She seems to have lapsed into a coma."
Trip felt his throat constrict. He swallowed.
"Will you...will you be able to help her?" he asked, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. Phlox shook his head.
"I'm not sure. Head injuries are always extremely dangerous, and I can't tell for sure what effects it will have on a Vulcan's brain. I'm sorry, Commander. That's all I can tell you at the moment."
Trip nodded, feeling Jon's hand on his arm.
"Can I see her?" he asked. Phlox got up from the bed.
"Certainly. She's in the IC Unit now."
On unsteady legs, Trip followed the doctor. There was only one bed occupied in the small room, the drawn curtains hiding it from view. Phlox pushed aside the thin fabric and motioned Trip and Jon to come closer. Trip's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on T'Pol. She looked small and fragile in that bed, surrounded by life support instruments, small lights flashing steadily. Except for a dark bruise on her left cheek there was no visible injury, but there seemed to be no life left in her, her pale face vacant of every expression. Trip cleared his throat and looked up at Phlox.
"Could you...could I have a few minutes alone with her?" he asked. Phlox nodded.
"Of course, Commander. We'll wait outside."
Jon squeezed his shoulder one more time, then he followed the doctor out of the room. Trip pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed. Carefully he took one of her hands lying motionless on the blanket, holding it in his own.
"T'Pol. I'm here, T'Pol. You know that, don't you?"
There was no sign she had heard him, but her hand was reassuringly warm against his skin.
"Don't give up," he whispered. "You hear me? Don't you die on me. I need you. And Sam does too. We both need you so much."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Not letting go of her hand, he pulled his chair closer to the bed. For a long time he sat there, looking down at his wife, not uttering a single word.