More to Tell, Ch. 6
Sequel to: Confessions
By: Angel
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?
Archive: Let me know where.
Rating: I guess PG, for now.
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.
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Tensions ran high in the outer waiting area of sickbay. Commander Tucker paced furiously, his hand running through his hair almost constantly. He kept his gaze pointed at the carpet and would occasionally mumble something under his breath. Finally, he looked pointedly at Lieutenant Reed. "Tell me again, Malcolm. What happened?"
The tactical officer glanced at his Captain for some sort of reassurance, and received a slight nod. Malcolm looked up to see silent tears streaking down Tucker's face as he answered him. "As I said already, sir, we were on our way back to the second shuttle with the survivors from the first shuttle's crash landing. Without warning, we came under attack. There was no available cover, so our best bet was to run for the safety of the shuttle, which we did. Just before reaching the hatch, I saw Commander T'Pol shove Lady T'Shar out of the way as an energy beam coursed through the air. The next thing I knew, T'Pol was on the ground, bleeding profusely. I grabbed her up and made for the shuttle." He paused to watch his friend's quiet nod. "Once onboard, I checked her for a pulse. It was weak, but present. We were already on our way back to Enterprise by then, so I continued to sit on the floor and hold her body. She was unconscious the entire time." His replay ended, Reed looked again to his Captain.
Archer mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Reed for his patient repeated retelling of the incident that had occurred two hours ago. He stood and adopted his most official stance. "All right. Malcolm, get up to the bridge, find out what's going on on the surface. We knew there was trouble here, but we expected it to be verbal, not violent." With a grateful nod, the Englishman rushed from the room. The Captain now had just Trip to deal with. "Trip," he began as he searched for the proper words. "I don't know what's been going on with you two exactly, but you can talk to me. I'm sure she'll be fine. Dr. Phlox is the best there is, you know that." He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder for good measure.
The engineer raised his eyes to meet his long-time friend's. He felt the tears begin again as his emotions roiled inside like an unruly ocean. "I don't even know where to begin, Cap'n." He heaved a heavy sigh and collapsed into a nearby chair. His head hung low and he supported it with his hands, his elbows rested on his thighs. After a moment's pause, he looked up again. "I love her," he stated clearly. "I love her more than I would have thought possible. I love her the way my daddy loves my momma. I love her so much it hurts inside when I can't be with her. I love her more than my engines." He gave Archer a silly smile, which his Captain returned. Then, he hung his head again and cried.
Captain Archer didn't know what to say. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. He knew they were friends, suspected they were lovers, but 'in love'? He never would have imagined it.
"Do ya' think she'll live?" Trip managed to whisper.
Archer put a gentle hand on his friend's back. "I'm sure the doctor's doing everything he can for her."
"What's takin' so long?"
"I don't know, Trip. We just have to patient, and maybe pray a little."
It was a reserved Dr. Phlox that approached the two men. He pulled a chair over to sit directly in front of Trip. The younger man looked up with heavy eyes to try and gauge the physician's body language. Dr. Phlox reached out a hand and placed it lightly on the engineer's knee. "Commander Tucker? I wanted to let you know that Commander T'Pol is out of surgery." For the first time, Trip took notice of the green stains that marred the doctor's outer coat. He felt himself become nauseated by the sight, but forced it down so that he could listen to the man's prognosis.
Archer put a supportive hand on Trip's back. He leaned in slightly to feel more part of the group and to lend physical support if needed.
The Denobulan sighed deeply but continued on. "I will not lie to you, she is in very serious condition. It's a miracle that she even survived the operation given the amount of blood she had already lost." At that, the doctor noticed Commander Tucker turn a shade paler. He needed to relay some confidence, and quickly. "However, the Commander is an extremely strong woman, as you well know, and thanks to her resilient Vulcan physiology she should recover. I will allow you a few moments to visit, but then I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to go for tonight. She won't regain consciousness until tomorrow anyway, and you will need to be properly rested as well."
Trip's head had jerked up at the promise of her recovery. He began nodding in earnest, barely hearing another word the man said, until he mentioned visitation. Trip was out of his chair and headed to the doorway before the doctor finished speaking.
Archer turned to face the smiling physician. "How about the rest of the casualties?"
The doctor shook his head in dismissal. "Nothing serious. I'll be keeping them overnight for observation, but they should all be released tomorrow, although, Mr. Mayweather may not be ready to fly ships again for a week or so with his sprained wrist. I've given them all a mild sedative already and they are all sleeping quietly."
The Captain stood as if to go. "Good, good. Keep me updated, Doctor." He turned to the exit.
"How are the nightmares, Captain?" the doctor inquired.
Archer faced the Denobulan again. "They're still there, if that's what you mean. I don't expect them to go away quickly, doctor, but I'm dealing with them. The Xindi conflict is over, that is reality. Bad dreams are just that." Again, he went for the exit, but paused at the sound of the doctor's voice.
"I'm not a psychiatrist, Captain, but I believe you need to talk to someone about these images before they effect your ability to command. We all made compromises to our ethics in the Expanse, you above all. There's no shame in admitting you need help to deal with that."
Without turning, the Captain answered, "I'll keep that in mind." He left sickbay in search of a stiff drink.
"Well, darlin', I don't think our little secret is much of a secret anymore," Trip began as held T'Pol's hand. She was pale, but her face was relaxed. With his other hand, he gently stroked her hair as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I can hardly wait to see your eyes flashin' angry at me when ya' find out. I didn't actually tell anyone, 'cept Jon that is, but I'm pretty sure Malcolm figured it out. Which means, he told Hoshi, which means that by tomorrow mornin', the whole ship'll know." He smiled at her.
"Aw, T'Pol, your gonna be pissed, but at least you'll be alive. It'll be the best fight we ever had, just because I'll know how close I came to not havin' it." He had continued to brush her hair with his fingers, and now gently traced a pointed ear.
He heard the doctor approach, but didn't look up. "I have to go now, don't I?"
"It would be best for the Commander; and for you, I dare say. You will need a great deal of energy to help her during her convalescence." Tucker glanced up at him. The doctor stood a few feet away, an understanding grin plastered across his broad features.
"All right, I'm goin'." He returned his gaze to T'Pol's face. "Now, don't you worry, darlin'. I'll be back first thin' tomorrow. For now, rest and get better." He leaned close to her and kissed her forehead again, allowing his lips to linger. Then he moved his mouth down to her ear and whispered, "I love ya'. Don'cha forget that." After a brief squeeze of her hand, he stood straight and faced Phlox again. "Okay, doc. I'm goin'. Call me if there's any change?"
"Absolutely, now get out of my sickbay." The man's smile grew wider as he shooed the Commander from the room.
The sound of screaming woke Captain Archer. It took a few seconds before he realized that it was his own voice. He rose slowly from the desk chair where he'd apparently passed out after having several nice shots of brandy and made his way to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. "Jon, you look like hell." With that, he staggered back into the bedroom. Porthos lay curled up in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. Archer pulled off his clothes and climbed onto the mattress in his underwear. He started to reach for the light switch, but his hand stopped halfway there. He glanced around, as if making sure no one was present to catch their Captain sleeping with the lights on, and then pulled his hand back completely. He snuggled up to a spare pillow and waited for the dream to come again.
End Chapter 6
By: Angel
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?
Archive: Let me know where.
Rating: I guess PG, for now.
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.
666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666666
Tensions ran high in the outer waiting area of sickbay. Commander Tucker paced furiously, his hand running through his hair almost constantly. He kept his gaze pointed at the carpet and would occasionally mumble something under his breath. Finally, he looked pointedly at Lieutenant Reed. "Tell me again, Malcolm. What happened?"
The tactical officer glanced at his Captain for some sort of reassurance, and received a slight nod. Malcolm looked up to see silent tears streaking down Tucker's face as he answered him. "As I said already, sir, we were on our way back to the second shuttle with the survivors from the first shuttle's crash landing. Without warning, we came under attack. There was no available cover, so our best bet was to run for the safety of the shuttle, which we did. Just before reaching the hatch, I saw Commander T'Pol shove Lady T'Shar out of the way as an energy beam coursed through the air. The next thing I knew, T'Pol was on the ground, bleeding profusely. I grabbed her up and made for the shuttle." He paused to watch his friend's quiet nod. "Once onboard, I checked her for a pulse. It was weak, but present. We were already on our way back to Enterprise by then, so I continued to sit on the floor and hold her body. She was unconscious the entire time." His replay ended, Reed looked again to his Captain.
Archer mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Reed for his patient repeated retelling of the incident that had occurred two hours ago. He stood and adopted his most official stance. "All right. Malcolm, get up to the bridge, find out what's going on on the surface. We knew there was trouble here, but we expected it to be verbal, not violent." With a grateful nod, the Englishman rushed from the room. The Captain now had just Trip to deal with. "Trip," he began as he searched for the proper words. "I don't know what's been going on with you two exactly, but you can talk to me. I'm sure she'll be fine. Dr. Phlox is the best there is, you know that." He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder for good measure.
The engineer raised his eyes to meet his long-time friend's. He felt the tears begin again as his emotions roiled inside like an unruly ocean. "I don't even know where to begin, Cap'n." He heaved a heavy sigh and collapsed into a nearby chair. His head hung low and he supported it with his hands, his elbows rested on his thighs. After a moment's pause, he looked up again. "I love her," he stated clearly. "I love her more than I would have thought possible. I love her the way my daddy loves my momma. I love her so much it hurts inside when I can't be with her. I love her more than my engines." He gave Archer a silly smile, which his Captain returned. Then, he hung his head again and cried.
Captain Archer didn't know what to say. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. He knew they were friends, suspected they were lovers, but 'in love'? He never would have imagined it.
"Do ya' think she'll live?" Trip managed to whisper.
Archer put a gentle hand on his friend's back. "I'm sure the doctor's doing everything he can for her."
"What's takin' so long?"
"I don't know, Trip. We just have to patient, and maybe pray a little."
It was a reserved Dr. Phlox that approached the two men. He pulled a chair over to sit directly in front of Trip. The younger man looked up with heavy eyes to try and gauge the physician's body language. Dr. Phlox reached out a hand and placed it lightly on the engineer's knee. "Commander Tucker? I wanted to let you know that Commander T'Pol is out of surgery." For the first time, Trip took notice of the green stains that marred the doctor's outer coat. He felt himself become nauseated by the sight, but forced it down so that he could listen to the man's prognosis.
Archer put a supportive hand on Trip's back. He leaned in slightly to feel more part of the group and to lend physical support if needed.
The Denobulan sighed deeply but continued on. "I will not lie to you, she is in very serious condition. It's a miracle that she even survived the operation given the amount of blood she had already lost." At that, the doctor noticed Commander Tucker turn a shade paler. He needed to relay some confidence, and quickly. "However, the Commander is an extremely strong woman, as you well know, and thanks to her resilient Vulcan physiology she should recover. I will allow you a few moments to visit, but then I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to go for tonight. She won't regain consciousness until tomorrow anyway, and you will need to be properly rested as well."
Trip's head had jerked up at the promise of her recovery. He began nodding in earnest, barely hearing another word the man said, until he mentioned visitation. Trip was out of his chair and headed to the doorway before the doctor finished speaking.
Archer turned to face the smiling physician. "How about the rest of the casualties?"
The doctor shook his head in dismissal. "Nothing serious. I'll be keeping them overnight for observation, but they should all be released tomorrow, although, Mr. Mayweather may not be ready to fly ships again for a week or so with his sprained wrist. I've given them all a mild sedative already and they are all sleeping quietly."
The Captain stood as if to go. "Good, good. Keep me updated, Doctor." He turned to the exit.
"How are the nightmares, Captain?" the doctor inquired.
Archer faced the Denobulan again. "They're still there, if that's what you mean. I don't expect them to go away quickly, doctor, but I'm dealing with them. The Xindi conflict is over, that is reality. Bad dreams are just that." Again, he went for the exit, but paused at the sound of the doctor's voice.
"I'm not a psychiatrist, Captain, but I believe you need to talk to someone about these images before they effect your ability to command. We all made compromises to our ethics in the Expanse, you above all. There's no shame in admitting you need help to deal with that."
Without turning, the Captain answered, "I'll keep that in mind." He left sickbay in search of a stiff drink.
"Well, darlin', I don't think our little secret is much of a secret anymore," Trip began as held T'Pol's hand. She was pale, but her face was relaxed. With his other hand, he gently stroked her hair as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I can hardly wait to see your eyes flashin' angry at me when ya' find out. I didn't actually tell anyone, 'cept Jon that is, but I'm pretty sure Malcolm figured it out. Which means, he told Hoshi, which means that by tomorrow mornin', the whole ship'll know." He smiled at her.
"Aw, T'Pol, your gonna be pissed, but at least you'll be alive. It'll be the best fight we ever had, just because I'll know how close I came to not havin' it." He had continued to brush her hair with his fingers, and now gently traced a pointed ear.
He heard the doctor approach, but didn't look up. "I have to go now, don't I?"
"It would be best for the Commander; and for you, I dare say. You will need a great deal of energy to help her during her convalescence." Tucker glanced up at him. The doctor stood a few feet away, an understanding grin plastered across his broad features.
"All right, I'm goin'." He returned his gaze to T'Pol's face. "Now, don't you worry, darlin'. I'll be back first thin' tomorrow. For now, rest and get better." He leaned close to her and kissed her forehead again, allowing his lips to linger. Then he moved his mouth down to her ear and whispered, "I love ya'. Don'cha forget that." After a brief squeeze of her hand, he stood straight and faced Phlox again. "Okay, doc. I'm goin'. Call me if there's any change?"
"Absolutely, now get out of my sickbay." The man's smile grew wider as he shooed the Commander from the room.
The sound of screaming woke Captain Archer. It took a few seconds before he realized that it was his own voice. He rose slowly from the desk chair where he'd apparently passed out after having several nice shots of brandy and made his way to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. "Jon, you look like hell." With that, he staggered back into the bedroom. Porthos lay curled up in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. Archer pulled off his clothes and climbed onto the mattress in his underwear. He started to reach for the light switch, but his hand stopped halfway there. He glanced around, as if making sure no one was present to catch their Captain sleeping with the lights on, and then pulled his hand back completely. He snuggled up to a spare pillow and waited for the dream to come again.
End Chapter 6