Spoiler: Cogenitor
PART TWO
"Did you hear me, Captain?" Phlox's disembodied voice questioned.
Captain Jonathan Archer clutched the book he had been reading face down on his chest. He stared up at the ceiling, stretched out on his bed with Porthos snuggled up against his hip.
"Captain, please?" Phlox pressed.
"I heard you, Doctor." Archer's husky voice replied. Yes, he had heard Phlox. Every word the doctor had said was echoing in his mind.
"He is angry, scared, confused." Phlox went on. "I know he will, most likely, make his way eventually to your door..."
As if on cue the door chimes sounded. Archer tiredly shifted his eyes to the door. Porthos perked his head up and whimpered.
"He's here." The captain said as he rose and reached for the companel. "I'll keep in touch, Doc. Archer out."
The door chime rang out urgently and again in rapid succession. Jon rubbed his beagle's ears and kissed the dog's wet nose.
"Go to your bed, boy."
Porthos obeyed the command without hesitation and curled up into a tight ball. The dog did not close his eyes, but kept them on his master. Said master folded his book and replaced it on the shelf, then stood up and grabbed his t-shirt. As he pulled it on he smoothed it out and then tightened the drawstring on his sweatpants.
"Come in."
The door slid open and Trip charged in stopping only a few feet from Jon. Archer noticed his friend's eyes were red and puffy, but also full of purpose.
"Tell me it isn't so." Trip ground out through his clenched teeth.
"What, Trip?" Jon simply replied in a controlled voice.
"Don't give me that crap!" Trip shouted. "I know Phlox would'a commed ya. Ya know what I'm talkin' 'bout! Ya made him believe he was only worth bein' alive to die! No other purpose to his life! No one gave a damn 'bout him!"
Jon inhaled deeply, as if he'd been punched in the gut and lost all air. This was not only going to be difficult it was going to be painful. For both of them.
"Trip, it wasn't like that."
"Oh, don't patronize me, Jon!" Trip began to pace as he did in sickbay. He ran his hands through his short-cropped blond hair. "I know what I know."
"Exactly." Jon stressed in a voice that had lost all command. "What you know. Only what you know."
"What I shouldn't know!" Trip grabbed for the desk chair and swung it around to straddle it backwards. Resting his arms on the back of the chair, he let his chin rest there as well.
Jon slowly shuffled the two steps it took to reach Trip and dropped to his knees in front of him.
"Phlox doesn't know enough to answer why." Jon was trying to keep his voice steady, but it wavered slightly.
Trip looked at Jon with a pained frown and a bottom lip that trembled.
"He was a part of me and now I'm a part of him." Trip's voice was small and lonely. "How could ya make that decision 'bout another life?"
Jon swallowed to moisten his throat, but to no avail. It was still dry and aching. He placed a hand on Trip's forearm.
"I was making a decision about your life, Trip." Jon began. "At the time, I wasn't thinking of Sim's life. Hell, there wasn't even a Sim. It was a creature Phlox used for medicinal purposes. I left it at that. And this seemed like one hell of a good way to use it."
"And after?" Trip asked. "When ya knew he was alive? That he was a person?"
Jon sighed, shaking his head and looking down. How could he explain to Trip, his best friend and crewmate, that he never thought of Sim as a separate person? Well, not until the end.
"He knew his place here, Trip..."
"No!" Trip jerked his arm away from Jon's grasp and jumped out of the chair tossing it aside.
As the chair toppled and slid on its side, Porthos let out a yelp and stood up in his bed.
"Easy, boy." Jon directed at Porthos. But he could have easily been addressing Trip.
"Don't tell me that!" Trip grabbed his head and resumed pacing. "He wanted to live! I know that much. God, how I know that. But you put him, not in his place, but the place ya wanted him ta be in. Didn't ya?"
Jon leaned forward with his hands on his thighs and began to rock slowly. Trip was right; he had done just that to Sim. Created him, assigned him his so-called life and then destroyed him. Oh, God how he had wrestled with that every day since the funeral.
"I never meant to hurt anyone." Jon muttered.
"Well neither did I!" Trip yelled back. "I tried ta do somethin' ta better another's quality of life. But that resulted in their death! And holier than thou Cap'n Archer tore me apart for it! Well, I never intended for their death as a result! Geez, Jon you did!"
Archer dug his fingers into his legs, clawing to deter his mind so he would not lose his composure. His mind was reeling with the biting reality of Trip's words.
"So who chews your ass out here in this damn Expanse when you screw up, Cap'n?" Tucker bent down over Archer as he hollered at him. When there was no response, he leaned further down. "Answer me!"
Archer shook his head slowly from side to side and then glanced into Tucker's angry twisted face.
"You." Jon whispered meekly.
"Naw," Trip straightened up and wrapped his arms around his body. "Don't lay that on me. Just tell me why ya did this to him? Why didn't ya just let me die? I was anyway and he wasn't."
"Because I...needed you."
"Yeah, ta make Enterprise fly like the wind." Trip spat out. "For this mission, ya needed me."
"No." Jon mumbled into his hands that he had brought up to his mouth.
"What?" Trip asked disgustedly.
"Not just because of that." Jon let his hands drop limply to his sides. He looked up at Trip from his place on the floor. His lowly place on his knees and looking up to the one who might give him penance. "Tell me you understand that. Please?"
Trip could not bring himself to let the thought of Jon needing him personally quell the anger that was inside him. That fact alone without the creation of Sim would have been a comfort. But someone had to die for him to live. Someone that had no part in why Trip's life had been compromised.
Porthos got up and slunk slowly toward his master. Nudging Archer's hand with his nose, the dog whimpered loudly and then sat when the man did not budge.
"I--I don't..." Trip bit his lower lip. "I don't know ya anymore. The Jon I know...knew...would never have killed an innocent being. Damn this mission and damn the Xindi! But damn you to hell for what you did to Sim and for makin' me live the life of a freak!"
Jon's eyes had misted over so he thankfully could not see the contempt in Trip's eyes. He watched the blurred form of his best friend run out of his quarters. Once the door was closed he let out an anguished moan and sobbed outwardly.
TBC
PART TWO
"Did you hear me, Captain?" Phlox's disembodied voice questioned.
Captain Jonathan Archer clutched the book he had been reading face down on his chest. He stared up at the ceiling, stretched out on his bed with Porthos snuggled up against his hip.
"Captain, please?" Phlox pressed.
"I heard you, Doctor." Archer's husky voice replied. Yes, he had heard Phlox. Every word the doctor had said was echoing in his mind.
"He is angry, scared, confused." Phlox went on. "I know he will, most likely, make his way eventually to your door..."
As if on cue the door chimes sounded. Archer tiredly shifted his eyes to the door. Porthos perked his head up and whimpered.
"He's here." The captain said as he rose and reached for the companel. "I'll keep in touch, Doc. Archer out."
The door chime rang out urgently and again in rapid succession. Jon rubbed his beagle's ears and kissed the dog's wet nose.
"Go to your bed, boy."
Porthos obeyed the command without hesitation and curled up into a tight ball. The dog did not close his eyes, but kept them on his master. Said master folded his book and replaced it on the shelf, then stood up and grabbed his t-shirt. As he pulled it on he smoothed it out and then tightened the drawstring on his sweatpants.
"Come in."
The door slid open and Trip charged in stopping only a few feet from Jon. Archer noticed his friend's eyes were red and puffy, but also full of purpose.
"Tell me it isn't so." Trip ground out through his clenched teeth.
"What, Trip?" Jon simply replied in a controlled voice.
"Don't give me that crap!" Trip shouted. "I know Phlox would'a commed ya. Ya know what I'm talkin' 'bout! Ya made him believe he was only worth bein' alive to die! No other purpose to his life! No one gave a damn 'bout him!"
Jon inhaled deeply, as if he'd been punched in the gut and lost all air. This was not only going to be difficult it was going to be painful. For both of them.
"Trip, it wasn't like that."
"Oh, don't patronize me, Jon!" Trip began to pace as he did in sickbay. He ran his hands through his short-cropped blond hair. "I know what I know."
"Exactly." Jon stressed in a voice that had lost all command. "What you know. Only what you know."
"What I shouldn't know!" Trip grabbed for the desk chair and swung it around to straddle it backwards. Resting his arms on the back of the chair, he let his chin rest there as well.
Jon slowly shuffled the two steps it took to reach Trip and dropped to his knees in front of him.
"Phlox doesn't know enough to answer why." Jon was trying to keep his voice steady, but it wavered slightly.
Trip looked at Jon with a pained frown and a bottom lip that trembled.
"He was a part of me and now I'm a part of him." Trip's voice was small and lonely. "How could ya make that decision 'bout another life?"
Jon swallowed to moisten his throat, but to no avail. It was still dry and aching. He placed a hand on Trip's forearm.
"I was making a decision about your life, Trip." Jon began. "At the time, I wasn't thinking of Sim's life. Hell, there wasn't even a Sim. It was a creature Phlox used for medicinal purposes. I left it at that. And this seemed like one hell of a good way to use it."
"And after?" Trip asked. "When ya knew he was alive? That he was a person?"
Jon sighed, shaking his head and looking down. How could he explain to Trip, his best friend and crewmate, that he never thought of Sim as a separate person? Well, not until the end.
"He knew his place here, Trip..."
"No!" Trip jerked his arm away from Jon's grasp and jumped out of the chair tossing it aside.
As the chair toppled and slid on its side, Porthos let out a yelp and stood up in his bed.
"Easy, boy." Jon directed at Porthos. But he could have easily been addressing Trip.
"Don't tell me that!" Trip grabbed his head and resumed pacing. "He wanted to live! I know that much. God, how I know that. But you put him, not in his place, but the place ya wanted him ta be in. Didn't ya?"
Jon leaned forward with his hands on his thighs and began to rock slowly. Trip was right; he had done just that to Sim. Created him, assigned him his so-called life and then destroyed him. Oh, God how he had wrestled with that every day since the funeral.
"I never meant to hurt anyone." Jon muttered.
"Well neither did I!" Trip yelled back. "I tried ta do somethin' ta better another's quality of life. But that resulted in their death! And holier than thou Cap'n Archer tore me apart for it! Well, I never intended for their death as a result! Geez, Jon you did!"
Archer dug his fingers into his legs, clawing to deter his mind so he would not lose his composure. His mind was reeling with the biting reality of Trip's words.
"So who chews your ass out here in this damn Expanse when you screw up, Cap'n?" Tucker bent down over Archer as he hollered at him. When there was no response, he leaned further down. "Answer me!"
Archer shook his head slowly from side to side and then glanced into Tucker's angry twisted face.
"You." Jon whispered meekly.
"Naw," Trip straightened up and wrapped his arms around his body. "Don't lay that on me. Just tell me why ya did this to him? Why didn't ya just let me die? I was anyway and he wasn't."
"Because I...needed you."
"Yeah, ta make Enterprise fly like the wind." Trip spat out. "For this mission, ya needed me."
"No." Jon mumbled into his hands that he had brought up to his mouth.
"What?" Trip asked disgustedly.
"Not just because of that." Jon let his hands drop limply to his sides. He looked up at Trip from his place on the floor. His lowly place on his knees and looking up to the one who might give him penance. "Tell me you understand that. Please?"
Trip could not bring himself to let the thought of Jon needing him personally quell the anger that was inside him. That fact alone without the creation of Sim would have been a comfort. But someone had to die for him to live. Someone that had no part in why Trip's life had been compromised.
Porthos got up and slunk slowly toward his master. Nudging Archer's hand with his nose, the dog whimpered loudly and then sat when the man did not budge.
"I--I don't..." Trip bit his lower lip. "I don't know ya anymore. The Jon I know...knew...would never have killed an innocent being. Damn this mission and damn the Xindi! But damn you to hell for what you did to Sim and for makin' me live the life of a freak!"
Jon's eyes had misted over so he thankfully could not see the contempt in Trip's eyes. He watched the blurred form of his best friend run out of his quarters. Once the door was closed he let out an anguished moan and sobbed outwardly.
TBC