A/N -- Thanks to Stormienight, Exploded Pen and Celine for the kind review.

Chapter Fifteen –

She stared at the bulkhead where her window used to be, apathy no longer a stranger to her. Some of her personal belongings were strewn about her cabin, others had been blown out into the vacuum of space. A support beam covered her bunk and she scoffed, "I wonder if it fell before the window blew out."

Climbing over the beam, Hoshi stumbled into her bathroom and reached for a towel. It was gone…probably blown out into space. The water to C deck had been turned off. Why she had bothered coming to her cabin for a quick shower?

Picking up a chair, she brushed it off. There was nothing – no dust or debris to brush off. At least she wouldn't have to dust this month. Sighing heavily, Hoshi rested her arms on her thighs and bowed her head, a spark of guilt wavering steadily inside her.

A fate worse than death – this is what this is. She knew something bad was going to happen. Was this it? Was the Xindi attack it? Was there something else? She shuddered, momentarily losing the focal point that kept her sane – her duty. The doctor, her only confidant, reminded her daily that she wasn't responsible for the faceless millions who perished in the first Xindi attack.

Now others were dead – people she knew – her crewmates. At least the captain had made it back alive.

"Ensign?"

Hoshi righted herself quickly and wiped her hands on her coveralls. "Yes?"

Pushing his way into her quarters, Malcolm frowned. "What are you doing here?"

She lied, not wanting to sound vain in her attempt to grab a quick shower. "I was just seeing if there was anything I could salvage."

Cold, black eyes stared at him, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips as she tried to make light of a bad situation. Everybody had the same stare – the stare of vacancy and exhaustion. "You can't be in here, Hoshi," Malcolm stated softly. "It's not safe."

"You're here," she replied pointedly.

"You tripped the security sensors. The engineering crews won't get to the crew quarters until tomorrow. It's not safe," he repeated.

Hoshi shook her head as if she were waking up. "You're right, Lieutenant. I guess I should grab a uniform and report to the lounge on B deck. That's where the temporary quarters are, right?"

Grabbing one of her uniforms from the closet, Malcolm motioned for her to follow him. "Until the area is repaired, you shouldn't be here. Is that understood, Ensign?"

She nodded and followed him into the corridor into the turbo lift. Before she knew it, she was on B deck, Malcolm's hand at her back, guiding her along the corridor.

"You can rest in my quarters," he said simply.

Stopping dead in her tracks, Hoshi answered, "No."

Malcolm punched in his code, and the door to his cabin opened. "You aren't due on duty for another six hours. You should take the time to shower and get some rest. Commander Tucker has requested my assistance with the Illyrian warp coil." He hung her uniform in the closet and brushed past her.

She would have continued arguing with him, but he pulled her into his cabin and left.

Looking around the sparsely decorated cabin, Hoshi frowned. There were hardly any identifying items in the cabin which showed he lived here…other than the subtle scent that was uniquely his.

Hoshi closed her eyes and inhaled, memories of Malcolm pervading her thoughts. She wanted to hate him, but couldn't. She just had to keep reminding herself that Lieutenant Reed was not responsible for his…future self, and she treated him with an exacting degree of professionalism.

His offer was out of the question. She couldn't stay here. Grabbing her uniform from the closet, she left.

--

Although he had been given clearance to roam the ship freely, Malcolm kept to his cabin. Darkness surrounded him, as there were no windows in his temporary quarters. The dark reflected his thoughts, a never-ending quagmire of temporal threads and linear notions. Past and present merged with the future as continued exposure to the past manifested itself into the third stage of the temporal displacement disorder.

T'Pol had tried her best to convince him to leave now while he still had a tenuous grasp on his sanity. He stopped sleeping several nights ago, the disjointed dreams of his present self encroaching nightly. The temporal displacement disorder would soon impede his waking hours as well.

He'd been displaced for three years now, his obsession over saving Hoshi outweighing any logic he may have alluded to having when he had first traveled back to the past. For two years, he had lived with the guilt of misleading her…the guilt of seven million people dying.

Whether it was dumb luck or poor judgement that had led him to his current situation, he did not know. T'Pol's declaration had stirred a heady guilt and a simmering anger inside him. She was responsible for the failure of his mission. If it hadn't been for her interference, Hoshi would be happily teaching in Brazil.

Damn her Vulcan logic! It was her logic that had determined he was too emotionally involved with the catalyst to bring about a successful outcome. He would never know if that was so, for it was the arrival of the Suliban that forced him to act the way he had. If only they had waited. If only they had given him the chance to change her mind.

The chirp on his door broke his reverie and he reached above him to turn on a lamp. "Enter."

"Captain Reed?"

Malcolm cringed as Doctor Cole flipped a switch and flooded the room with more light.

"I thought perhaps we could go over your plan one more time," Nora stated curiously.

"There isn't much to it," Malcolm replied gruffly. "I'll talk to Hoshi and you can tag her. You won't have to worry about your ethical dilemma. I know her. She won't refuse."

"As long as you're sure," the doctor said.

"I am." The only thing he was sure of was Hoshi reaction. She would do it and he would deliver her to the Reptilians.

The doctor paused. "I'm more concerned with your condition, Captain. From what I was able to ascertain from your medical subroutines on your PADD, you're entering the third stage of the displacement disorder. I'm able to treat your physical symptoms. I'm afraid the only way you'll…" Nora struggled with the words she had little practice telling someone their condition was terminal.

"Get better?" Malcolm provided for her, seeing her struggle with the words.

Nora nodded and cleared the lump in her throat. "The sooner you…travel to your own time, the better your chances for recovery."

Malcolm smiled, a brief moment of comprehensibility surfacing in his mind. "I'm not leaving until I can talk with her again."

"I understand that, sir. Perhaps it would be better if one of us – "

He charged her, pinning her against the wall, his arm across her throat. "Don't touch her! Don't you dare go near her!"

Wide, azure eyes and silent gaps for breath pleaded for him to release her.

Long, sharp nails dug into his arm, braking his skin, drawing blood and pulling him out of the madness.

Stumbling backwards, Malcolm fell to his knees and started to moan. "Leave her alone. I'm so…sorry."

Nora clutched her sides and backed away from him, her nurturing side unable to overcome her instinct to flee.