A/N: This had veered into AU now.
"It wasn't the cravins that killed ya, Malcolm," murmered Trip, remembering a conversation they'd had. "But ya saved us." The funeral would be in a few days, once Hoshi could attend. He could hardly believe it. The weeks it had been since Malcolm had been bemoaning his lack of sleep seemed like scant hours, and now he was in a torpedo casing. Fitting for the armory officer, but unbelievable none the less. And for those he left behind, incredibly painful.
They'd defeated the Reptilian fleet, with help from the Primates and Aquatics. Malcolm had found a weakness just in time, but he had to fire the last torpedoes manually. In doing so, he was killed. Trip was filled with a renewed hatred of the Xindi. They were defeated, but had taken so many with them. He'd never really understood the concept of a hollow victory before, but now he did. Malcolm would never see his daughter. Just when he was getting used to living without Lizzie, they killed Malcolm.
"I'm gonna take care of 'em for ya. Hoshi's in coma now, but Dr. Phlox is pretty sure she'll pull through. Anne's fine. Yer girls are gonna be okay. You saved 'em." Jon, whose job it would be to tell Hoshi of Malcolm's death, was dreading the moment. Trip was glad that wasn't his job, but he'd be there.
T'Pol walked in. "I am sorry, Commander. I did not intend to intrude."
"No, it's okay. I'm just sayin' goodbye." To his surprise, she didn't comment on how illogical it was to talk to a dead man. "What brings ya here?"
"I am uncertain." Well, that was different. "Commander, I have become aware of a human colloquialism that seems very appropriate. Life is not fair."
Wonders never ceased. If circumstances had been different, he would've smiled. "His daughter's gonna know what an amazin' man he was, T'Pol. We've gotta make sure of that."
"I do not doubt that Ensign Sato will impart that information."
"Phlox says she's gonna be fine. He told me ta go sleep, but I can't."
"Would a session of neuropressure be beneficial, Commander?"
He looked at the coffin in front of him. "Actually, T'Pol, I don't think it would be. Thanks, though."
"Commander, may I ask you a confidential question?"
"Shoot." Her eyebrow flew up. "Yeah, go ahead."
"Is it uncommon for humans to think that they would trade their life for that of another?"
"Not at all, T'Pol. In fact, I was thinkin' it myself." He tried to push back the tears, but they came anyway. "Malcolm should be there when Anne's born. I keep thinkin' of the things he'll never see. Her first steps. Her first day of school. Her graduation." Tears were flowing freely now. "He'll never give her away when she gets married. An' I'd take his place in there in a second, if I could."
"As would I, Commander." He was floored. That was about the last thing Trip expected T'Pol to say. Being surprised by this, he decided he might as well as well ask her something.
"Even Malcolm eventually let go of some protocol notions. Do ya think maybe, since we've known each other a while, ya could call me somethin' other than 'Commander' when we're off duty?"
She had heard this asked before, but for some reason T'Pol agreed. Logic could not explain her reasoning, but she had learned some things simply defied logic. "Very well. Is your given name acceptable?"
"Sure." They were silent for a moment, looking at the coffin. Trip sighed. Had it only been the week before that the entire senior staff played Monopoly? Even T'Pol had played to learn more about human culture, albeit less enthusiastically than Dr. Phlox. They'd had so much fun, and been so lively. Malcolm would never land on Free Parking again, and it seemed so childish how he'd begrudged his friend the three times he'd landed on it then.
"Damn those bastards!" he exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table without even noticing the pain. "They had no right!"
"Lieutenant Reed knew the risks of what he did. He also knew that it was the only way to ensure the survival of the ship."
"But they had no right, T'Pol! Goin' around, killin' people like that, it's just not right. And those Sphere Builders, I'd love ta get my hands around a couple necks in that realm. They go makin' us look bad ta expand, pickin' us out. Why us? We just wanna explore and live. We don't wanna hurt anyone. Why the hell does everyone hate us?"
She had listened to his tirade silently, and he was surprised –again- by her lack of rebuke. "Not everyone hates humans, Charles."
"Pretty close."
"I believe that Lieutenant Reed would not wish for you to become 'bitter' over his death."
"Probly. I'll start tomorrow. Tonight I'm gonna sit an' stew, an' hate the whole universe, an' feel lousy."
"That cannot be beneficial."
"You'd be surprised, T'Pol." She merely raised an eyebrow. "It's kinda a catharsis, or somethin' fancy-soundin' like that."
"Very well. I hope this is successful."
"'Night, T'Pol." She nodded, and he walked out the door.