Title: Alone In Darkness
Authors: Sita/T'eyla
Rating: PG-13
AN: Thanks to luna (well, let's see what she can do for him ;-) ), stage manager (here comes more Trip, as promised -g-), Rinne (thank you so much. It's great to hear that someone is enjoying this so much!), bunsdarien (still more??! here comes...), skully (I'll ask her, but I don't think so ;-). Just kidding. Let's see what we can do about Malcolm...), Gabi2305 (GENAU!! SAG ICH SCHON DIE GANZE ZEIT!!... ehem. Geht mir schon wieder besser ;-) ), Aeryn Lavanthia (it's always nice to surprise someone :-) ), Drakcir (Don't say that!!! Please!! That Gollum character really gave me the creeps, nasty little slimy... well, anyway ;-). No, I don't think a shrink would be able to help him... but maybe someone else can??), The Libran Iniquity for chap 910 ( yes, that "perverted twisted mind"-line might've been somewhat ironic, I admit it -g-... ohh, don't go having retribution, see, I'm giving Malcolm his cuddly bunny rabbit back, see, he's looking all happy now... SEE??), Exploded Pen (Oh, readers crying, I love it... just kidding :-). Could you send some of that English weather to Germany, please? It's pouring all day long here :-( ), jazri (someday these Author's Notes will be longer than the chapter itself...sorry!), WhtevrHpnd2Mary (I can't tell you how happy and flattered I was when I read your review. Thank you so much. It's great to hear our writing so much appreciated, and I'm glad to hear the portraying of the characters worked so well. Again, thank you so much, big huggles to you, and I hope you'll like how we did the mind meld thing), Maraschino (thank you! didn't mean to make anyone cry, though... well, okay, maybe we did. But it's still nice to hear that it worked ;-)! ), Dacker Spaniel (well, I guess T'Pol's gonna give it a try... ;-). Looking forward to your story!!) and KaliedescopeCat (you're right, there is no cure... a terrible thought, actually. Thank God we got T'Pol!!;-) ) for reviewing.
Look, I'm sorry about these ANs... but I can't seem to help it ;-)! Oh, and T'eyla says to say hello to all our dear readers - keep reviewing! And now - on with Chapter 11!
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Chapter 11
"And you are really sure about this?"
Turning around, T'Pol looked at Dr. Phlox' worried face. Somewhere in the less controlled parts of her mind, she felt actual surprise at his obvious anxiety; usually the Denobulan doctor kept his feeling strictly under control, displaying an almost Vulcan serenity in the most dire of situations. But she guessed it was the mind meld that made him feel uncomfortable. Most non-Vulcans reacted with various degrees of discomfort to the concept of melding, of "tinkering with another person's thoughts", as the Captain had put it when she'd talked to him yesterday.
Realizing that the doctor expected an answer to his question, T'Pol strode for her most controlled, Vulcan tone of voice, speaking with a calmness she certainly did not feel at the moment.
"I have made my decision, doctor. And the Captain gave his permission. We have been through this before."
Sighing, Phlox leaned back against the counter and cast a glance at the surveillance monitor next to him.
"I know we have," he said. "But to be honest, I'm worried."
"I told you the procedure is not going to harm Commander Tucker in the slightest," she said, careful not to let any trace of impatience creep into her voice. She knew that this was a very delicate subject, especially when discussed with people who were not familiar with telepathy. "Should I realize that I am not able to get through to him, I will end the meld immediately."
Phlox folded his hands. "T'Pol, I'm also worried about you. The Commander's mental state has shown some deterioration over the last twelve hours. There were times when he didn't even recognize me, let alone listen to any rational arguments. He's terrified of anyone who comes near him, and becomes increasingly violent when confronted with situations he finds threatening. I'm not going to question your judgement, but I've read in the Vulcan medical database that during a meld one mind can become... contaminated by the other."
T'Pol turned her gaze to the monitor. The Commander was sitting at his usual place opposite the cot, staring into space with a blank, absentminded expression on his face. For once, though, he wasn't rocking back and forth but was sitting completely motionless, his arms wrapped around his knees. Every time she saw him like that the image brought up strange hurtful feelings she had not experienced before, at least not in this intensity. Humans were quick to name those emotions, sorrow, anger, despair and what not, but T'Pol only knew that these feelings were the true reason for her decision. When she'd struggled with herself whether or not to do something that contradicted her entire upbringing, her ethics, it had been the image of Tucker sitting against that wall that had caused her to put aside her doubts and go to Archer. And seeing him once again on that monitor, T'Pol knew that her decision was made.
"I am aware of the risks, doctor," she said quietly. "And I will end the meld at the first sign of... confusion on my part. But I believe my mental discipline is trained enough to avoid any "contamination"."
Phlox sighed again, holding up his hands in defeat. "Far be it from me to question your abilities, T'Pol. But I must ask you to be extremely careful."
T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "I always am."
Picking up a hypo from the counter, Phlox filled it with some clear liquid and handed it to her.
"Only in case. I managed to give the Commander a light sedative earlier, not without serious objections on his part, of course." Dryly, the doctor gestured at a darkening bruise on his left cheek. "It should keep his aggression in check, at least for a while, but I don't know when it will begin to wear off. Do not hesitate to use this in case he attacks you."
T'Pol took the hypo, pushing it up her sleeve so it was hidden from view.
"I do not think it advisable to go in there carrying a hypospray in my hand," she explained when she noticed Phlox' raised eyebrows. "As the Captain would put it, 'this would be a bad way to start'."
"Suit yourself." Phlox turned back to the screen. "I will be monitoring you all the time, and at the first sign of... discomfort I'll interrupt the meld immediately."
His tone told her that he was still not quite happy with allowing these kind of things in his sickbay, and T'Pol realized it was better not to argue. She knew, of course, that the doctor probably wouldn't even be able to recognize her discomfort when it occurred. A mind meld was not something one could monitor on a screen. But she wasn't going to tell him so.
"Very well, doctor."
Giving her a last concerned glance, Phlox turned back to the monitor where Commander Tucker was still sitting motionless.
As T'Pol punched in the code to open the doors to decon, she concentrated on taking slow, even breaths. It was necessary for the mind meld to be initiated in a calm quiet way, and while she knew this was not going to happen, she at least wanted to be prepared. Slow breathing. Draw air. Hold it. Let it out. The way she'd learned to do it as a child when she'd first been introduced to the techniques of melding. In. And out. After a few seconds the calm repeating of the mantra took hold, and her breathing adjusted to the patterns it dictated. In. And out.
The doors slid open.
As she entered the room, the Commander raised his head. His face didn't show any sign of recognition, and she noticed him tense as she took another step into the room. He kept following her every move, and even though he made no sound, T'Pol could tell that he was frightened. Careful not to make any sudden movements, she slowly made her way to the cot and sat down, resting her hands in her lap so he was able to see them. Phlox had said it was only a matter of time until the sedative wore off, but she knew she mustn't rush this. If she did, she might do irreversible damage, both to her mind and the Commander's.
He was still watching her with an alertness that reminded her of a wounded animal watching an approaching predator. T'Pol took another breath. In. And out.
"Commander," she began, "do you know who I am?"
His eyes narrowed a little, but otherwise he didn't move at all, nor did he give an answer. T'Pol tried again. "Do you recognize me?"
This time he did move, hugging his knees tighter and pressing his back against the wall. "I don't give a shit who you are," he said, his voice sounding almost weary. "Just leave me alone."
"I am T'Pol," she said, for the first time noticing how haggard he looked. Phlox had said that he hadn't touched any food in days. "I have come to help you, Commander. You are ill."
"Sure." It was only one word, but he said it with such hatred and derision that she hardly recognized his voice. T'Pol held his gaze, speaking quietly as she continued.
"I know you do not believe me, and it is understandable. I have given you no proof that I am speaking the truth. But I can do so." She paused. "There is a Vulcan technique, called mind meld. It enables people to become aware of each other's thoughts, to communicate telepathically. You cannot lie in a mind meld. It is not possible. I will touch your face, and you will see in my thoughts that I am telling the truth."
She had not even finished when he was already on his feet. His voice was hoarse with panic as he spoke.
"You come one step closer and I'll kill you! I won't fall for your tricks! If you think you can inject me with some more of those drugs, you're mistaken! I told that other asshole I was gonna kill him next time, and the same goes for you! Leave me alone!"
"I am not going to give you any drugs," T'Pol said, staying where she was. "You will see that I am telling the truth."
"You lie!" he hissed. "All of you. You come here and I swear I'll knock you out cold."
T'Pol slowly got to her feet. She had hoped he would at least listen to what she said, but he was clearly too terrified to think of anything but keeping her away from him. Continuing this fruitless conversation would probably only lead to more agitation on his part. She expected him to attack her as she slowly approached, but he didn't. A look of pure terror crossed his features as she came closer, and he retreated further into the corner, pressing his back against the wall as if he hoped to merge with it.
"Leave me alone," he whispered, and she noticed that his lips were bleeding, dry and cracked from dehydration. "Leave me alone."
"I am not going to hurt you," she said, again concentrating on her breathing. Draw air. Hold it. Let it out. "You will see that I am telling the truth."
"No!" Sliding down the wall, he flung his arms over his head as if to protect himself in case she hit him. "Leave me alone!"
T'Pol slowly crouched down in front of him, and noticed that he was crying. His arms trembled, and he didn't even lash out at her when she took his hands, gently pulling them away from his face.
"I am not going to hurt you," she said, aware that he wasn't listening but hoping her calm tone of voice would convey her good intentions as well. "I am only going to touch your face. I am not going to hurt you."
"No," he sobbed, turning his head away. "No. Leave me alone."
Carefully, T'Pol reached out and put a hand on his cheek, gently turning his head so he was facing her. She saw the tears running down his cheeks and the snot gathering on his upper lip, smelled his sweat and fear, but she didn't feel disgusted.
"I am not going to hurt you," she repeated, reaching up with her other hand and spreading her fingers to touch the melding points. His eyes widened the instant her hand made contact with his skin, and for a second T'Pol felt the wetness of his tears under her fingers before she entered the meld and the outer world disappeared.
Chaos. It was the first thing she became aware of. Swirling, red chaos threatening to pull her down, to drown her. Somewhere there was fear, a blind panic reaching out for her, but mainly there was disorder and mayhem. A mind that had lost control. Chaos reigned, and it didn't like any intruders, pushing her away and at the same time tugging at her, trying to pull her into those ugly, raging, whirling colours-
No. T'Pol concentrated on her surroundings, blocking out the fear, willing the storm of emotions to stop. No. We are calm. We are not afraid.
Her mental voice echoed through space, and again there was an uproar of angry, agitated feelings, fighting her presence.
Get out! Why are you here?
T'Pol focused on the words, and gradually, the storm subsided, but it was still close beneath the surface, ready to break loose any moment.
I am not going to hurt you. Can you see that I am speaking the truth?
Silence answered her question, and now she could See. She was standing in front of a high wall - nothing else, no ground, no up and down, just a big wall looking as impenetrable as the hull of a spaceship. It was silent in here, and she could feel the chaos that had been fighting her fading away, but it wasn't a good silence. It was a fearful, trembling silence, the silence of someone hiding from his pursuers, holding his breath so they wouldn't find him. And T'Pol knew she was the cause of that anguish. She was an intruder, had all but forced her way in here, and even though she had managed to block out chaos, she couldn't break down that wall of fear.
Can you see that I am speaking the truth? she asked again, and this time there was an answer, timid but clearly articulated.
I told you to go away. What do you want? Who are you?
I am T'Pol, she said. You know me. I am not an enemy. I do not mean to harm you. I want to help.
Fear grew stronger, and this time she could feel something else mingle with it, a hateful distrust that didn't come from the small frightened presence who had answered her from behind the wall, but from another place, from somewhere beneath. The other presence seemed to have noticed as well; she could feel it shrinking back, retreating further into the darkness where it was hiding.
Go away! How can you be here? Why can I hear you?
I am within your thoughts, she answered, but this only caused panic to flare up again.
GET OUT! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!
The distrust became stronger, and again she had the distinct impression that it was coming from somewhere below, mixing with the fear and causing the wall to become even thicker.
I will leave, she said, projecting calm and serenity as she spoke. But first you need to listen to me. I need to tell you the truth.
There was a pause. Truth? The panic faded to be replaced by wariness, and, as T'Pol noticed with a very un-Vulcan surge of hope, a faint trace of curiousity. What truth?
The truth about where you are. About the people around you.
Now something like a bitter laugh echoed behind the wall, a short, angry sound.
You don't need to tell me. I already know.
Really? She hadn't spoken in a provoking tone, but still felt the anger of the other presence grow stronger.
Yes really! They are plotting against me. They are lying. I mustn't trust them. If I trust them, they'll hurt me. Kill me.
That is not true. She projected the words with great care, making sure they were being heard. If you will let me, I can show you. No one is trying to hurt you. I am speaking the truth.
Again, silence followed, and T'Pol could feel the presence hesitating, considering. Once again, there was a small trickle of curiousity, then: How could you show me?
Right then, something happened. It was as if the place - or rather not-place - they were in started trembling, shaking. T'Pol could feel it before she heard it; a voice, screeching in a terrible, hysterical tone, radiating pure anger and fury.
See what she's trying to do? See? She's trying to trick you, make you believe her so she can give you some more of their drugs, hurt you-
No. T'Pol interrupted, still speaking very calmly. I do not intend to do any such thing.
The voice became louder. Of course she is! She's lying! They're all lying! You mustn't trust them!
That is not true, T'Pol said, feeling that the other presence was still listening to her. That is not true. I am not lying.
I can see that. There was something like confidence in the statement, and T'Pol felt unfamiliar excitement when she saw the wall beginning to crumble.
Yes. You can. And if you will let me, I will help you see the truth-
NO! The voice sounded shrill now, furious. And frightened. DON'T TRUST HER! DON'T TRUST ANYONE! YOU KNOW THEY-
But it couldn't stop the wall breaking apart, pieces crashing down and dissolving into nothingness, and together with the wall the dark chaos that had been lurking nearby faded away, allowing light to pour into the place.
NO! the voice screeched, but this time T'Pol didn't answer. She didn't need to. The other presence, growing stronger and stronger as the wall kept breaking apart, pushed it away, rejecting it with a force that surprised T'Pol.
I don't want to listen to you anymore! You're the one who is lying! Get out of here!
The voice let out one more angry, frustrated scream, but no one listened. The wall was nearly gone now, and together with the last ugly pieces the fear was washed away, taking the voice with it.
Again, silence echoed through the place. A different silence, though. It was like stepping out the door after a rainstorm and feeling the first sunrays warm up your skin. Everything smells still wet, and the sky is a light, bluish grey, but you know that it is only a matter of time until the last shreds of clouds will be gone, and the sun will begin to dry the glistening bushes and trees.
In that silence T'Pol turned around and finally saw him. The other presence. He was still rather weak and shaky from what had just happened, but he was looking at her. Seeing her.
What's going on? I... can hear your thoughts. The statement held no fear or panic, only faint wonder. T'Pol?
Yes, she said, and in the privacy of her - their - thoughts she allowed herself a smile. I am here.
Carefully, tentatively he answered her smile, still rather confused. How come you are in here?
She spoke, feeling the place fill with light as they talked. I am here to help you.
He hesitated, trying to remember. You said you were going to show me... the truth?
Yes, she said. The truth. But I can only show you if you will allow me to help you see.
More confusion. I don't understand.
She paused, seeking impressions to convey what she wanted to do without scaring him away. If you want to see, you will have to think my thoughts... be what I am. You will have to allow me to complete the meld. Only then will I be able to show you the whole truth.
She expected him to shrink back from the idea, but he didn't. Again, there was curiousity, but also something else, and T'Pol's Vulcan composure briefly wavered as she realized what it was. Trust. He trusted her.
What do I have to do? His question came out haltingly, but at the same time T'Pol felt the curiousity growing stronger. She allowed herself another small smile.
You are not required to "do" anything. Only listen to my words, and do not fight me. I will not harm you.
I know. Again, T'Pol could feel the implicit trust he placed in her, and it moved her like few things had before. Her own confidence grew, and she put her doubts aside. This joining of thoughts was not going to be a forced one, a crime in the eyes of any telepathic species. It was based on mutual agreement, and it would make him see. Really see.
Listen to my words, she repeated, and when she began the ancient chant of the mind meld, she could hear her every word being echoed by a second voice.
My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts, never and always touching and touched...
And they saw.
They saw him sitting in that cell, waiting for their captors to bring Malcolm back, they watched the escape, and Malcolm telling him he had sabotaged the flitter-
A surge of anger and hurt.
He betrayed me!
He did not.
They saw her sitting in front of a screen together with Archer and Phlox, relived her anguish as she realized what those people had done to her crewmates...
A set-up? I don't understand.
They wanted you to believe he had betrayed you. It was not him. It was only a holographic projection. He never worked for them to conspire against you.
Another image flashed up before their eyes, suddenly, and accompanied by a searing stab of anguish and pain. Malcolm on the cell floor, his face turning red, a retching sound coming from his throat-
I killed him. I'm a murderer. And he never... are you saying he never...
He did not betray you. And you did not kill him. He is alive.
Joy washed over them, a relief so intense that it made them sway. Malcolm was not dead. And they had not killed him. It was almost too good to believe-
They glanced at a brief image of Malcolm lying on a sickbay bed, looking rather pale but definitely alive, Porthos snuggling in the crook of his arm. And they did believe. Malcolm was alive.
Another image. They saw him sitting on the floor of the decon chamber, curled up against the wall, his shoulders shaking as he cried silently, face buried in his arms. Memories resurfaced, feelings of utter desolation and abandonment, and it still caused them a lot of pain to think of that.
I thought you were trying to use me for tests... I thought... I thought everybody was plotting against me. And... there was no one I could turn to... Shame mingled with the memory of the pain they had endured. I tried to attack you, didn't I? I think I hit Dr. Phlox...
He does not blame you. No one does. The only thing that is important now is that you see the truth...
I... I do...
There was silence for a while, and maybe they cried a little, but it were mostly tears of relief and exhaustion that were running down their cheeks. More images kept swirling through their mind, but right now they didn't have the strength to look at them. They were so tired.
It is time to return.
Her voice, swimming up from the depth of the meld, slowly disentangling her thoughts from their joined consciousness. T'Pol felt her own mind beginning to detach from the meld, and noticed with mild chagrin that she was actually feeling a little disappointed at ending this experience. The emotion was mutual, though, and she sensed his mind reaching out for hers.
Hey, don't leave!
Commander, it is time to return.
The formal use of his title brought first surprise, then amusement, and she could feel him coming closer, examining her thoughts not in an intruding way, but with honest curiousity.
Commander...
What's that?
During his careful exploring he'd come across part of her mind she had shielded, and she could sense his curiousity grow.
What are you hiding?
Very deliberately, T'Pol projected slight annoyance into her thoughts. It is time to return.
What are you hiding? The question sounded more urgent now, and she felt something in him resurface, something that had kept him behind that wall for so long. Why can't you show me?
T'Pol let out a mental sigh. When she'd decided to perform this meld, she'd sworn to herself that she would keep that part of herself hidden, concealed under the layers of logic she had buried it under long time ago. Leave it to Commander Tucker to ruin her plans. She knew that if she refused to show him now, all her efforts of today might prove futile, after all. So she dropped her shields, and he saw.
First, there was a moment of silence. Then a small sound came from his direction. T'Pol didn't recognize it immediately for she had never heard it before, but then she realized it was telepathic laughter. It was friendly, good-natured laughter, but it still made her feel slightly embarrassed.
Well, how about that? He was still chuckling. How about that.
The temptation was great, but T'Pol refrained from telling him that she saw exactly how his teasing was only a feeble try at hiding the real emotions he felt at his discovery. There would be enough time to tell him when he had recovered. For now, a mental raising of an eyebrow would have to suffice.
Now that you have satisfied your curiousity, I suggest we do as I said before and return.
He grew serious again. Sure thing.
Slowly, carefully, she broke the meld, and again felt something like disappointment as their minds drifted apart. Eventually, his mental voice faded away, and she could feel her consciousness returning to the real world.
They were still positioned in the same way they had been at the beginning of the meld, he sitting curled up with his back against the wall, she crouching down in front of him. But when T'Pol carefully withdrew her hand from his face, she realized that everything else had changed. Commander Tucker was looking at her, and instead of panic and fear there was an expression of amazement in his eyes. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then he licked his lips, clearing his dry throat.
"It... it really happened, didn't it?"
Again, she allowed the tiniest of smiles to cross her lips. "Yes, it did."
He shook his head. "I... I don't..."
His voice failed, and T'Pol reached behind her, picking up the water bag from the tray.
"Here. I assume you must be rather thirsty."
He nodded, allowing her to help him guide the water bag to his lips and hold it as he drank. He emptied nearly half the bag before she gently pulled it away.
"Take it easy, Commander. I do not think the doctor would approve if you made yourself sick by drinking too hastily."
Again, he looked up at her and she saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "Guess you're right." He sighed. "I don't know... somehow I feel awfully tired."
"It is a natural reaction. Mind melds are very straining both to telepaths and non-telepaths. I suggest you try to rest now."
He nodded wearily. "Sounds like a good idea."
She made as if to help him up so he could lie down on the cot, but he waved her off. "Here's jus' fine."
"As you wish." She brought him the blanket he'd never so much as looked at during those last three days, and he wrapped it around his shoulders, looking up at her again.
"T'Pol..."
She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Commander?"
"Would you... would you mind stayin' here for a while?" He looked slightly embarrassed. "Guess after all that time alone I could use some company..."
"There is no need to explain." Settling down next to him, she helped him lie down on the floor, allowing him to rest his head in her lap. Again, he opened his mouth to say something, probably apologize for the inconveniences he was causing, but T'Pol put a finger to his lips.
"Sleep now."
She watched as his eyes drifted close, and continued to stroke his hair until she felt his breathing become even and his body relax. After a while, her eyes began to droop as well, but she kept sleep at a distance. Right now the only thing she wanted to do was sit here and watch the Commander sleep, relishing the knowledge that he was going to be alright.
TBC...
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