Chapter 5
He stared into her eyes, aware that an ongoing inner battle was being waged in her. He still was shocked that she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. It had never even really occurred to him to hope that she could return his feelings. It had never even really occurred to him that Vulcan's fell in love with others. Was it even love?
He knew that they married and raised families, but he had never really thought about the actual mechanics of the relationships, as it never concerned him. Now that he thought about it, the couple more than likely did fall in love, well at least in love as a Vulcan could get without expressing emotions. However, now, looking at T'Pol, he could see the love and affection swimming in the depths of her eyes, and he knew all his former calculations had been wrong.
Suddenly she stood.
"Where are you going?"
"I am going to prepare lunch." She stated, moving to the sparsely decorated kitchen.
They were in the middle of the most important discussion of their lives, and she was going to make lunch? He stood following after her. She moved to the refrigeration unit and pulled out fresh greens and an assortment of vegetables.
He stared disbelieving as she fired up the stove and placed a pot on the burner. "You are going to cook? Now?"
She turned. "Now is as good a time as any. You usually begin to feel hungry around this time of day. It is almost lunch time."
To further validate her response, his traitorous stomach growled lowly. She raised an eyebrow and turned back to the stove, where she was beginning to prepare a soup.
"Don't you want to finish our conversation?" He asked.
"Were we not finished?" She countered.
"You know we weren't finished." He stood and walked over to her. "T'Pol, what should we do about it?"
She stared up at him unblinkingly. "Nothing."
"What?" He breathed.
"There isn't anything to do about it. How could we start something that you will not remember, it is as simple as that."
And it was, wasn't it. Now that he thought about it, asking her to take a step in their relationship, knowing that he wouldn't remember the next day was erroneous. He was being pretentious, hollow, to not consider the ramifications a progression in their relationship would have on her. Undoubtedly, she cared for him, had become accustomed to him, and in her own way, grown to love him...but could she live with it, if they did indeed take the next step, only to have him forget.
His silence had not gone unnoticed. T'Pol was looking over her shoulder at him, one brow slightly raised. Her soft, "Jonathan," broke him from his trance and he smiled sadly.
"You're right. It is as simple as that. We can't begin a relationship, at least not a romantic one. To coin a phrase".it would be illogical." He smirked.
She nodded her eyes downcast. Turning back to the stove, she finished preparing the soup. He stood beside her. Each was lost in their own thoughts, of what could have been, and what will be.
The rest of the day sped by quickly, at least to T'Pol. After lunch, they had retired to the couch and talked about nothing. In actuality, they talked about their pasts, before Enterprise. Nothing that had happened after the parasites was mentioned. Jonathan had been very adamant about that. He didn't want to know, and wanted her to take the day off. It was, if she was honest, uncharacteristic of him, but she wouldn't be one to point it out. Maybe he had just woken up "on the right side of the bed," whatever that meant. It had been one of the best days, if not the best, since this whole ordeal had begun. She was grateful for that, for the break, if nothing else.
As the day drew to a close, the two sat outside watching the sun sink slowly below the horizon. It seemed to sag against the sky, as if trying to delay the inevitable, delay the fact that with its disappearance, night came, and with night, sleep, and then fading memories.
His memory had already begun to weaken. He didn't recall what they had had for breakfast, but remembered everything else. His face had scrunched up as he tried to remember the muffin from this morning, and then the sudden realization that his memory has beginning to grow fainter only caused a look of panic on his already fear stricken face. This was the man she remembered from all these years, the one that never wanted to sleep for fear of forgetting, even though it was unavoidable.
Once the sun had faded completely away, he took her hand, and silently they walked back to his room. He lay down on his bed, foregoing a change of clothes, and pulled her down beside him. Her face must have betrayed her curiosity, for he spoke finally.
"I don't want to be alone right now."
She nodded and laid down beside him, their hands entwined on his stomach. He lay on his back, staring silently at the white ceiling above them. A single tear escaped his eye and slid down the side of his face, tracing a path to his ear. She caught it with a finger, brushing it away.
He sniffled, and without turning to her, began to speak. "I don't want to forget, T'Pol. I don't want to forget today."
"I too, do not wish for you to forget, however it is to be expected. Tomorrow you will wake up and not remember, I will tell you what you wish to know, and life will proceed as it has for the last 6 years."
Jonathan shook his head sadly. "It just isn't fair."
"It is life."
He turned to her, his eyes memorizing her face. "I won't let it happen," he said lowly, dangerously. "I will remember this day. I won't forget! I can't do that to you, T'Pol."
She nodded, hearing the words she had heard countless times before.
He saw the look in her eyes and bit his lip. His eyes took on a faraway look, and he said softly, "Margaret Mullen."
"Excuse me?"
"Ask me about her tomorrow. It will help me remember. I'll tell you about her. Perhaps you asking will jog my memory."
Sighing, she nodded again. His memory would not return, no matter how much he wished it to be so. She would, however fulfill his wish and inquire about this woman. "Margaret Mullen."
She whispered.
He nodded once more, a yawn overtaking him.
Silence enveloped them as they lay together. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours.
Finally, sometime in the early morning, he lost his battle, and gave in to sleep, his lips uttering her name, and his promise to remember.
She bit her lips, her only outward sign of her apprehension. She too didn't wish for him to forget, and a fleeting moment passed where she gave into her hope that he would overcome this disease and remember. An hour later, she too lost the battle, and fell asleep by his side, their hands still entwined between them...and a hope resonating within her, that the new day would not only bring the dawn, but also a determination that he could win this battle with the disease.
The small insect blinked and fluttered its wings, shaking the dew that clung to them. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, lighting up the small buildings beside the insect's home. As the area brightened, the insects gaze fell upon a familiar site: the woman.
She sat, like always, in an oversized gray chair sipping her tea. It was her daily ritual.
Today however, she seemed different, perhaps optimistic. The insect thought back to yesterday. The man that lived with her had been happy; the woman had seemed in high spirits as well. When the insect had first observed them, it had believed them to be mates, now it was sure. The man loved the woman, and the woman loved the man.
Happy for her, the insect rose up on its legs and took flight. He landed on the woman's hand as she raised it to her mouth, sipping the contents of the mug. Her eyes were bright, twinkling at the sight of the insect. She breathed deeply and the insect realized the depth of her feelings. On the surface, mainly love, but a deeper...fear?
The two stared at each other a moment longer, until a muffled thump aroused her senses.
She turned her head to the door, anticipation shining in the depth of her eyes.
As a mumbled unsettled "Hello?" resounded out the open door, her eyes slipped shut and her lips formed a thin line. Opening them, the insect saw sadness swimming there.
Setting her mug down, she whispered a single word, "Jonathan."
The End.
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He stared into her eyes, aware that an ongoing inner battle was being waged in her. He still was shocked that she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. It had never even really occurred to him to hope that she could return his feelings. It had never even really occurred to him that Vulcan's fell in love with others. Was it even love?
He knew that they married and raised families, but he had never really thought about the actual mechanics of the relationships, as it never concerned him. Now that he thought about it, the couple more than likely did fall in love, well at least in love as a Vulcan could get without expressing emotions. However, now, looking at T'Pol, he could see the love and affection swimming in the depths of her eyes, and he knew all his former calculations had been wrong.
Suddenly she stood.
"Where are you going?"
"I am going to prepare lunch." She stated, moving to the sparsely decorated kitchen.
They were in the middle of the most important discussion of their lives, and she was going to make lunch? He stood following after her. She moved to the refrigeration unit and pulled out fresh greens and an assortment of vegetables.
He stared disbelieving as she fired up the stove and placed a pot on the burner. "You are going to cook? Now?"
She turned. "Now is as good a time as any. You usually begin to feel hungry around this time of day. It is almost lunch time."
To further validate her response, his traitorous stomach growled lowly. She raised an eyebrow and turned back to the stove, where she was beginning to prepare a soup.
"Don't you want to finish our conversation?" He asked.
"Were we not finished?" She countered.
"You know we weren't finished." He stood and walked over to her. "T'Pol, what should we do about it?"
She stared up at him unblinkingly. "Nothing."
"What?" He breathed.
"There isn't anything to do about it. How could we start something that you will not remember, it is as simple as that."
And it was, wasn't it. Now that he thought about it, asking her to take a step in their relationship, knowing that he wouldn't remember the next day was erroneous. He was being pretentious, hollow, to not consider the ramifications a progression in their relationship would have on her. Undoubtedly, she cared for him, had become accustomed to him, and in her own way, grown to love him...but could she live with it, if they did indeed take the next step, only to have him forget.
His silence had not gone unnoticed. T'Pol was looking over her shoulder at him, one brow slightly raised. Her soft, "Jonathan," broke him from his trance and he smiled sadly.
"You're right. It is as simple as that. We can't begin a relationship, at least not a romantic one. To coin a phrase".it would be illogical." He smirked.
She nodded her eyes downcast. Turning back to the stove, she finished preparing the soup. He stood beside her. Each was lost in their own thoughts, of what could have been, and what will be.
The rest of the day sped by quickly, at least to T'Pol. After lunch, they had retired to the couch and talked about nothing. In actuality, they talked about their pasts, before Enterprise. Nothing that had happened after the parasites was mentioned. Jonathan had been very adamant about that. He didn't want to know, and wanted her to take the day off. It was, if she was honest, uncharacteristic of him, but she wouldn't be one to point it out. Maybe he had just woken up "on the right side of the bed," whatever that meant. It had been one of the best days, if not the best, since this whole ordeal had begun. She was grateful for that, for the break, if nothing else.
As the day drew to a close, the two sat outside watching the sun sink slowly below the horizon. It seemed to sag against the sky, as if trying to delay the inevitable, delay the fact that with its disappearance, night came, and with night, sleep, and then fading memories.
His memory had already begun to weaken. He didn't recall what they had had for breakfast, but remembered everything else. His face had scrunched up as he tried to remember the muffin from this morning, and then the sudden realization that his memory has beginning to grow fainter only caused a look of panic on his already fear stricken face. This was the man she remembered from all these years, the one that never wanted to sleep for fear of forgetting, even though it was unavoidable.
Once the sun had faded completely away, he took her hand, and silently they walked back to his room. He lay down on his bed, foregoing a change of clothes, and pulled her down beside him. Her face must have betrayed her curiosity, for he spoke finally.
"I don't want to be alone right now."
She nodded and laid down beside him, their hands entwined on his stomach. He lay on his back, staring silently at the white ceiling above them. A single tear escaped his eye and slid down the side of his face, tracing a path to his ear. She caught it with a finger, brushing it away.
He sniffled, and without turning to her, began to speak. "I don't want to forget, T'Pol. I don't want to forget today."
"I too, do not wish for you to forget, however it is to be expected. Tomorrow you will wake up and not remember, I will tell you what you wish to know, and life will proceed as it has for the last 6 years."
Jonathan shook his head sadly. "It just isn't fair."
"It is life."
He turned to her, his eyes memorizing her face. "I won't let it happen," he said lowly, dangerously. "I will remember this day. I won't forget! I can't do that to you, T'Pol."
She nodded, hearing the words she had heard countless times before.
He saw the look in her eyes and bit his lip. His eyes took on a faraway look, and he said softly, "Margaret Mullen."
"Excuse me?"
"Ask me about her tomorrow. It will help me remember. I'll tell you about her. Perhaps you asking will jog my memory."
Sighing, she nodded again. His memory would not return, no matter how much he wished it to be so. She would, however fulfill his wish and inquire about this woman. "Margaret Mullen."
She whispered.
He nodded once more, a yawn overtaking him.
Silence enveloped them as they lay together. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours.
Finally, sometime in the early morning, he lost his battle, and gave in to sleep, his lips uttering her name, and his promise to remember.
She bit her lips, her only outward sign of her apprehension. She too didn't wish for him to forget, and a fleeting moment passed where she gave into her hope that he would overcome this disease and remember. An hour later, she too lost the battle, and fell asleep by his side, their hands still entwined between them...and a hope resonating within her, that the new day would not only bring the dawn, but also a determination that he could win this battle with the disease.
The small insect blinked and fluttered its wings, shaking the dew that clung to them. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, lighting up the small buildings beside the insect's home. As the area brightened, the insects gaze fell upon a familiar site: the woman.
She sat, like always, in an oversized gray chair sipping her tea. It was her daily ritual.
Today however, she seemed different, perhaps optimistic. The insect thought back to yesterday. The man that lived with her had been happy; the woman had seemed in high spirits as well. When the insect had first observed them, it had believed them to be mates, now it was sure. The man loved the woman, and the woman loved the man.
Happy for her, the insect rose up on its legs and took flight. He landed on the woman's hand as she raised it to her mouth, sipping the contents of the mug. Her eyes were bright, twinkling at the sight of the insect. She breathed deeply and the insect realized the depth of her feelings. On the surface, mainly love, but a deeper...fear?
The two stared at each other a moment longer, until a muffled thump aroused her senses.
She turned her head to the door, anticipation shining in the depth of her eyes.
As a mumbled unsettled "Hello?" resounded out the open door, her eyes slipped shut and her lips formed a thin line. Opening them, the insect saw sadness swimming there.
Setting her mug down, she whispered a single word, "Jonathan."
The End.
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