Title: Clarity of Hearts
Author: Chocolatequeen
Rating: G/PG
Genre: Angst/Romance
Spoilers: Stigma, The Expanse, Harbinger, and Damage
Summary: "Regret for wasted time in more wasted time." –Mason Cooley
A/N: I re-read You Made Me by
Mana one night, and it inspired this. :)
Part 1: Pride and Prejudice
The only light in the quiet cabin came from the small candle in the middle of the floor. Though the woman staring into its flame tried to ignore the shadows it cast on the walls, the combined effects of withdrawal and stress diminished her ability to compartmentalize.
Behind her bed, the small reading light had turned into an arm reaching out to grab her. The chair against the wall became a predator, lurking in the shadow. The entire familiar confines of her own quarters had transformed into a prison for her over active imagination, and she desperately needed to get free of it.
Extinguishing the candle, she rose to her feet and exited the cabin. The well-lit corridor banished most of her demons, and she moved quickly, heading for one of the few places on Enterprise that had been left sacrosanct to her despite this mission.
As she had expected at such a late hour, the observation lounge was empty. The lights were low, but the shadows here did not frighten her. They were old friends, memories of other times she had stood here and watched the stars go by.
For the first time since her captain had left in the insectoid vessel two weeks ago, she felt herself relax. Between the drug-induced emotional haze and the subsequent symptoms of withdrawal, her control had been tightly stretched of late, straining to keep her Vulcan stoicism. Here in this place there was no one to impress, no need to hold back her own reactions to recent events.
The relief she felt was overwhelming. Recognizing it for the emotion it was, she attempted to divorce herself from it, but she soon found that was impossible. It was too strong and she was too weak, still affected by the Trellium-D. The doctor's warning that she might never regain full control of her emotions came to mind, and a small fission of fear shot through her.
If she could no longer function within the mores for acceptable Vulcan behavior, was there a place for her with her people? She had already been made an outcast once by her Pa'Nar Syndrome, and though she had been cleared of wrong-doing, the stigma had not fully lifted before Earth had been attacked. It was likely that her actions of defiance against the High Command had only furthered the negative opinion some held of her, and if they were to learn she had willingly experimented with emotions...
The sudden swell of anger caught her off guard. How could anyone hold such narrow views and claim they were ruled by logic? Where is the logic in condemning something you've never experienced, or in refusing to aid a mission of galactic importance?
With supreme effort, she managed to rein in her turbulent emotions before she became destructive. When she had begun using the Trellium-D, it had been the positive emotions she had sought. Pleasure, joy, amusement—she couldn't get enough of them. She hadn't foreseen the negative emotions; the anger and fear.
They were there though, the despair just as strong as the elation. In an effort to eliminate them, she had refined the substance, but the only result was an even more violent roller coaster of emotions. She had learned to anticipate the lows that followed the highs, and the illogical behavior associated with both.
The incident in his ready room came to mind, bringing with it an uncomfortable flood of embarrassment. What must he think of her, throwing a tantrum simply because she didn't agree with his decision? They had disagreed many times, but as he had said, she had never taken it out on his desk before.
Her recent behavior concerned him, she knew that. He hadn't pushed for an explanation yet, but he would; and what would she do then? She did not want to face his disappointment when he learned she had used a potentially toxic substance to test her emotions, or when he learned who she had used done that experiment with.
Would he understand that her decision to take the Trellium-D had been made while she was still under its influence? Would he accept the fact that once she started, Trip was her only option for a partner? Would he let her explain at all, or would he despise her?
When she had first been exposed to the Trellium-D, the person she was closest to physically was Commander Tucker. Since Vulcan emotions are most commonly expressed in a tactile manner, he was the logical choice for her experiment, or so she had told herself. In reality, she did not want to risk censure and losing the drug if she told anyone, so she simply channeled the new-found emotions into an already existing relationship.
To her dissatisfaction, Trip's emotions did not provide the evenness she needed. He'd met her fierceness with heat of his own, spiraling them both up higher instead of calming her down. Upon making that discovery she had backed off, her disappointment ruling when she had told him he was merely an experiment.
How different it had been when she had revealed her raw emotions to the captain. Instead of going along for the ride, he had reacted with a quiet concern. In his ready room, where she had expected further harsh words, he had seemed to realize what his emotions were doing to hers. The steadiness of his reply had given her the strength she'd needed to gather her control. For the first time, she had understood the importance of the marriage bond to her people, and she had regretted not sharing her emotions with him from the start.
Regret. Another emotion with which she had become intimately familiar. Regret that she had experimented with the Trellium-D and hurts Trip in the process, regret that she had allowed herself to become addicted.
But what she regretted most was that her pride still would not allow her to approach the captain with the situation. She did not want to appear to him as a weak woman who needed his help, because she knew that no matter what he thought of her and her actions, he would give it. She did not want his pity, she wanted so much more.
At least, that had been her thought two days ago. But now, as she let the peace of open space calm her, she wondered if she should let her pride rule her like this. After all, pride was an emotion, and it was one she could take action to control.
For the first time in months, T'Pol felt like she was making a truly logical decision. Sometimes soon she would tell him what had been happening to her, and then they could proceed from there.
Once that decision was made, she felt a lightness of spirit she hadn't realized she'd been missing. The nagging worries and fears slipped into the background, and she thought the shadows would probably disappear from her room too. Taking one last look through the porthole behind her, she left the observation to return to bed, her heart clear at last.
Part 1: Pride and Prejudice
The only light in the quiet cabin came from the small candle in the middle of the floor. Though the woman staring into its flame tried to ignore the shadows it cast on the walls, the combined effects of withdrawal and stress diminished her ability to compartmentalize.
Behind her bed, the small reading light had turned into an arm reaching out to grab her. The chair against the wall became a predator, lurking in the shadow. The entire familiar confines of her own quarters had transformed into a prison for her over active imagination, and she desperately needed to get free of it.
Extinguishing the candle, she rose to her feet and exited the cabin. The well-lit corridor banished most of her demons, and she moved quickly, heading for one of the few places on Enterprise that had been left sacrosanct to her despite this mission.
As she had expected at such a late hour, the observation lounge was empty. The lights were low, but the shadows here did not frighten her. They were old friends, memories of other times she had stood here and watched the stars go by.
For the first time since her captain had left in the insectoid vessel two weeks ago, she felt herself relax. Between the drug-induced emotional haze and the subsequent symptoms of withdrawal, her control had been tightly stretched of late, straining to keep her Vulcan stoicism. Here in this place there was no one to impress, no need to hold back her own reactions to recent events.
The relief she felt was overwhelming. Recognizing it for the emotion it was, she attempted to divorce herself from it, but she soon found that was impossible. It was too strong and she was too weak, still affected by the Trellium-D. The doctor's warning that she might never regain full control of her emotions came to mind, and a small fission of fear shot through her.
If she could no longer function within the mores for acceptable Vulcan behavior, was there a place for her with her people? She had already been made an outcast once by her Pa'Nar Syndrome, and though she had been cleared of wrong-doing, the stigma had not fully lifted before Earth had been attacked. It was likely that her actions of defiance against the High Command had only furthered the negative opinion some held of her, and if they were to learn she had willingly experimented with emotions...
The sudden swell of anger caught her off guard. How could anyone hold such narrow views and claim they were ruled by logic? Where is the logic in condemning something you've never experienced, or in refusing to aid a mission of galactic importance?
With supreme effort, she managed to rein in her turbulent emotions before she became destructive. When she had begun using the Trellium-D, it had been the positive emotions she had sought. Pleasure, joy, amusement—she couldn't get enough of them. She hadn't foreseen the negative emotions; the anger and fear.
They were there though, the despair just as strong as the elation. In an effort to eliminate them, she had refined the substance, but the only result was an even more violent roller coaster of emotions. She had learned to anticipate the lows that followed the highs, and the illogical behavior associated with both.
The incident in his ready room came to mind, bringing with it an uncomfortable flood of embarrassment. What must he think of her, throwing a tantrum simply because she didn't agree with his decision? They had disagreed many times, but as he had said, she had never taken it out on his desk before.
Her recent behavior concerned him, she knew that. He hadn't pushed for an explanation yet, but he would; and what would she do then? She did not want to face his disappointment when he learned she had used a potentially toxic substance to test her emotions, or when he learned who she had used done that experiment with.
Would he understand that her decision to take the Trellium-D had been made while she was still under its influence? Would he accept the fact that once she started, Trip was her only option for a partner? Would he let her explain at all, or would he despise her?
When she had first been exposed to the Trellium-D, the person she was closest to physically was Commander Tucker. Since Vulcan emotions are most commonly expressed in a tactile manner, he was the logical choice for her experiment, or so she had told herself. In reality, she did not want to risk censure and losing the drug if she told anyone, so she simply channeled the new-found emotions into an already existing relationship.
To her dissatisfaction, Trip's emotions did not provide the evenness she needed. He'd met her fierceness with heat of his own, spiraling them both up higher instead of calming her down. Upon making that discovery she had backed off, her disappointment ruling when she had told him he was merely an experiment.
How different it had been when she had revealed her raw emotions to the captain. Instead of going along for the ride, he had reacted with a quiet concern. In his ready room, where she had expected further harsh words, he had seemed to realize what his emotions were doing to hers. The steadiness of his reply had given her the strength she'd needed to gather her control. For the first time, she had understood the importance of the marriage bond to her people, and she had regretted not sharing her emotions with him from the start.
Regret. Another emotion with which she had become intimately familiar. Regret that she had experimented with the Trellium-D and hurts Trip in the process, regret that she had allowed herself to become addicted.
But what she regretted most was that her pride still would not allow her to approach the captain with the situation. She did not want to appear to him as a weak woman who needed his help, because she knew that no matter what he thought of her and her actions, he would give it. She did not want his pity, she wanted so much more.
At least, that had been her thought two days ago. But now, as she let the peace of open space calm her, she wondered if she should let her pride rule her like this. After all, pride was an emotion, and it was one she could take action to control.
For the first time in months, T'Pol felt like she was making a truly logical decision. Sometimes soon she would tell him what had been happening to her, and then they could proceed from there.
Once that decision was made, she felt a lightness of spirit she hadn't realized she'd been missing. The nagging worries and fears slipped into the background, and she thought the shadows would probably disappear from her room too. Taking one last look through the porthole behind her, she left the observation to return to bed, her heart clear at last.