Author's note: Thanks for your feedback; it's been fun and interesting to read! I personally think most relationships are complex and complicated; there are always layers to them. For those who indicated they agree with Lorian's assessment of Archer (and how Esilia was an ego stroke), I can certainly understand that. In a way she was. And those who think "Lorian is just like his father," good or bad, I can certainly understand that. I hope through out this story, all of the characters become more complex and continue to have layers heaved on them. And, I hope I treat all the characters fairly.
And, in the end, the characters become real or 2-dimmensional to you. So you own interpretation is always more important than anything I have to say.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nothing but Time
The Ties that Bind and the Tucker Family
Chapter 6
T'Pol calmly strolled into her cabin as Lorian, who looked like he'd been pacing, stared at her.
"What did you tell him?" he asked.
Raising a single eyebrow, she said, "Nothing, I was more concerned about you."
"What are you going to say?"
"I don't know," she said.
T'Pol folded herself gracefully in half and lounged on a white chair in her quarters as she tried to absorb the information conveyed to them. It was difficult to digest: her captain was in love with her – romantically. In truth, rank – all of it – had fallen away years ago … possibly the first time she slept with Trip. Since that moment, at least she and the engineer worked not only on building a friendship, but establishing a relationship. A friendship was always there, but it was buried under teasing jabs, sarcasm, irony and banter.
When Sim had confessed his feelings, something in T'Pol came to life – she felt desired, loved and cared for in a way she didn't expect. It became easy to enter a relationship with Trip; the man himself was fearless when it came to emotions and at that time she craved and yearned for them.
Archer was never easy to read – not then, not now. Somehow the information she heard seemed like it was based in fact. T'Pol had wondered from time-to-time if he felt something for her, but always dismissed it as friendship. The two had been through a lot together. She admired the man, cared for him … but never saw a burgeoning relationship with him. Well almost never.
Scooting those thoughts aside, her eyes drifted back to her son. "Why did you choose to hide from me all night?"
"I would think the answer is now obvious. It was logical that I prove to you that …."
Slightly irritated, she cut him off. "Your behavior was unacceptable. Your actions weren't logical."
Lorian widened his stance and furrowed his brow. "I'm no longer a child, Mother. If I were on Vulcan, I would've taken and passed the rites of adulthood."
"You are only 16, and you are half-human. Besides, as your mother, I should always know your whereabouts."
He threw up his hands in the air, as if her husband might. "Where could I go? This ship is enclosed and most of the dangerous areas are off limits."
"Still, I'd prefer if you told me where you were."
His chest puffed out and he folded his arms, staring the woman down – delivering the root of the problem as if it were an accusation. "Did you love Dad?"
T'Pol watched his eyes squeeze into narrow slits and knew it'd been on the boy's mind. Most likely it'd been on the child's mind ever since the accident. It was a strange word for a complete and utter system-wide failure of the small ship that led to its subsequent destruction.
It was a routine mission. Captain Archer agreed to let Trip "stretch his legs" and collect soil samples from the Minshara class planet. Trip finagled his way into the assignment – as chief engineer, he wasn't exactly first, second or even third choice for such a mission. But, Archer finally agreed, knowing his friend was just as eager as he was to explore new places.
That morning began like any morning, it was a whirlwind of activity in the Tucker home. Lorian got ready for school, Trip charmed the family with a few jokes and lavished attention on both her and their son and she continued to insist the entire family would be late if Trip and Lorian continued to dawdle.
As the couple left the house, Trip mussed his son's hair and said.
"See you for dinner tonight, kiddo."
Giving a bashful grin, Lorian ducked his head and held his PADD tighter to his chest. As the kid walked off, Trip grinned and stared down at his wife.
"You gonna walk me to the shuttle?" he asked.
T'Pol's danced with amusement. "Of course."
They rounded one corner after another until they reached the bay. The blonde leaned over and stole a kiss from his wife with devilish glee.
"This is where I get off."
"Do you have all your equipment?" she asked.
"Sure, do. God, it's been two years since I've walked around on the planet. I can hardly wait."
The two loaded the shuttle with all the necessary gear until he was ready to go.
Trip said, "Maybe we can ask Jon to watch Lorian tonight." He gave her a wink and said, "I'd like to be alone with you when I get back."
T'Pol's eyes smiled back as her lips gave a slight twitch – her way of grinning. "I'd like that."
As Trip rambled into the shuttle, she headed to the Bridge. Along the way, she decided that her life, though being thrown back into the past, had turned out well. It was certainly not what a Vulcan would expect, even one as rebellious as herself. However, it fit like a garment – snugly.
On her arrival, Archer glanced up over a PADD with a lopsided smile.
"Morning," he said. "Get our temporary science officer off to the shuttle?"
T'Pol slipped into her seat and checked over her systems. "Yes. He seemed … eager."
"Shuttlepod Two to Enterprise. Ready to disembark."
Archer nodded as Reed grinned.
"Well, Mister Tucker, enjoy your stay on M-152."
Laughing the engineer replied, "Will do, Malcolm."
As the shuttle began to move away from Enterprise, Archer crossed over to the science station and shot a quip to his first officer.
"You know, there are more convenient ways for you and Trip to have some time to yourselves."
Seeing she wasn't amused, he decided to lower his voice and be more sincere.
"Why didn't you want to go with him? You could've collected the samples, stayed overnight together – make it a camping excursion? I would've been happy to watch Lorian … or Malcolm could've."
"I'm not overly fond of camping. Besides, Trip didn't ask if I could go. He asked if …."
Travis interrupted for a moment, calling out over his shoulder, "Shuttlepod Two has begun to enter the planet's surface."
Archer acknowledged the information and turned back to T'Pol.
Just as she was about to continue to explain the decision, she sensed her husband's mind kick into overdrive. Something was wrong with the shuttle. She felt his mind race and his hands frantically work to determine what the problem was. Power was failing. Back-up systems and their back-ups were unexplainably snuffed out. It was most likely an electrical storm – something trivial and unperceivable from their location. As the power came back on, his mind relaxed. Closing in toward the surface, he didn't want to worry the crew and maintained his original course.
But, the electrical storm had zapped the power from the shuttle, causing a spark in the engine relays – causing a fire … one that spread too quickly for him to react to. Within seconds, the fuel was ignited. Trip mumbled a few curses under his breath and reached out to T'Pol's mind one last time and then fell silent.
Furrowing her eyebrows, she fought to maintain her composure, but felt her lips quiver slightly.
Archer asked, "What's wrong?"
"Too late," she whispered.
Hoshi's fingers worked to zoom in on the shuttle.
In an instant the entire Bridge crew watched Shuttlepod Two explode, flinging shards of metal in every direction. The ship, or what was left of it, floated against the planet … drifting peacefully and serenely. Space debris scattered in an orbit around the red orb (M-152) and settled there, as the crew watched on with stunned silence.
T'Pol, the only one who knew the outcome with certainty, bowed her head and let a few tears roll down her face.
Sparking to life, Archer asked "Hoshi, any communications? Maybe he was able to …."
Hoshi crying softly, answered, "No."
"Life signs?" Archer asked to no one in particular.
"No, sir," Travis said.
"Trip," Reed mumbled.
"No," Archer said, hoarsely.
T'Pol remained silent. After the captain had recovered a bit, he looked over at his first officer, watching her reaction. The Vulcan noticed he loomed near to her, hesitating and waiting, trying to take his cue from her.
"T'Pol, let me walk you to your quarters …."
"It's not necessary," she said. Her voice cracked and shook as she felt on the verge of collapse. Defeat was rampant in every part of her body and her legs, arms and other extremities went dead. Trip's voice, which quietly hummed in her mind for more than fourteen years, was gone. Her companion, her friend … a man who'd brought amusement to her nearly every day was no longer alive. It wasn't just difficult to accept, it was impossible, and the finality of the situation hadn't completely hit her. Instead, she stared at the floor for what she gathered must've been a few minutes as the sounds around her slipped into the background and her own thoughts became louder and more pronounced. Thoughts of loss, hurt, pain, love, confusion and grief drowned out everything, except the rumbling of her own heart.
She barely felt an arm slip around her waist and help her out of her chair. Her feet … her entire body went limp unable to move. Looking up, she noticed Archer's eyes focused ahead with determination as he whisked into the turbolift and back to her room. He set her into a chair and walked away for a moment and then came back.
Resting his hand briefly on hers, he said, "I asked Lorian's teacher to send him home."
She remembered nodding briefly as he brought her some water.
"I'm sorry, T'Pol," he whispered, his own voice racked with pain.
The two remained quiet, she nodded and he slipped his hand around hers, waiting patiently for her son to arrive.
"What am I going to do?" she heard herself ask.
Rather than answer, his thumb rang around the joints of her fingers and he took tiny pants of breath as if working through his own emotions.
"What am I going to say?" she whispered. Her throat was caked with saliva, making it impossible to say much more.
"I don't know," he said hoarsely. With that, his hand squeezed hers a little as she stared into space.
Barely aware of the world around her, T'Pol noticed her son appear in the room. He was astute – he immediately sensed something was wrong.
"Mother?" he asked.
Trembling lips worked carefully to deliver the information as he looked on her with confusion.
"What happened?" he asked.
T'Pol cleared her throat and whispered, "Your father is dead."
"What? Maybe there's been some mistake?" he countered. The boy's eyes darted from his mother's to Archer's.
T'Pol's eyes held her son's gaze and her body weakly continued to wither. "There's no mistake."
Unwrapping his hand, Archer whispered he was there if they needed him, told them he'd check on them later, hugged Lorian and quietly left the room.
"Mother?" Lorian asked.
She gazed on the boy … so much like his father – same blue eyes, blonde hair and pert nose. Tears started to flow down her face without restraint. In a rare moment of deep physical affection, Lorian threw his arms around her neck and began to cry, pressing his mother to him.
For weeks, T'Pol would wake up expecting to see Trip grinning over as he sometimes did after they began dating. But, as her eyes opened she realized it was the vague recollection of a dream … a memory. She'd been able to move on; she'd been forced to, but thinking on the end of his life still stirred emotions.
Waking herself from the dream she answered Lorian's question.
"I loved him very much," explained T'Pol. "I cherished your father. Deep feelings are sometimes difficult for Vulcans to show. However, just because I don't express it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."
The two sized each other up.
She continued, "I cherish you as well. You are all that remains, that's important, of your father. You remind me of him."
Lorian let a tiny smile cross his lips.
"As your mother, it is my responsibility to keep you safe from harm, which is why you must tell me where you are. I … worry … about you."
"I love you, too," he said.
She stood up and crossed over to him. Tucking his head neatly under her chin, she wrapped her arms around him.
She whispered, "I know accepting your father's death has been difficult, but it's important to do so. You cannot change the past …."
"Maybe you can't understand because you're not human, but … I can't let go of Dad. His memory gives me strength and makes me feel loved. I need that."
The Vulcan gave a ghost of a frown. She wasn't human, but she'd been around them a long time. It seemed obvious to her that Lorian, like most humans, needed to feel loved and have affection given to them. As a Vulcan, it was difficult for her to do. It was something Trip had accepted, but managed to draw out of her with his teasing and his playful banter. But, Lorian wasn't equipped, as her son, to gather it in that manner. In a way, she was glad the boy had many humans to dote on him. Malcolm cared deeply for him, as did Jonathan, and was physical with the boy – pulling him into a hug or playfully ruffling his hair.
"Did you have anything to eat yet?"
"Not yet," he said.
Stepping back, she noted the boy's eyes were glassy, but that his emotions remained contained.
"Breakfast seems to be in order, then," she said. She gave the boy a whisper of a smile, but enough to show the boy she cared. For a moment, he beamed back at her.
"I'm sorry for what I did," he acknowledged.
"I know."
Chapter 7
The dining room was mostly empty, leaving the Tucker family to eat in peace. Unlike when Trip was alive, they usually ate in silence. T'Pol although more emotional, was unequipped to partake in small talk. Instead, she would meditate on issues or concerns hoping to resolve them.
As Vulcanly as T'Pol was, she was also a mother, and she knew it was important to do something her late husband was good at – tell stories. After the first spoonful of her broth glided down her throat, T'Pol recounted events that she hoped would give Lorian the comfort he needed.
"Your father was immensely proud of you."
With surprise, the child looked up and rewarded her with a smirk.
"He bragged you look like the Tuckers …."
He nodded.
"Apparently, you have a strong resemblance to Charles Tucker II. Your father often expressed it was a shame your grandfather never got to meet you and take you fishing."
Exhaling quickly and sharply he agreed. "I'm not sure I would've wanted to participate in catching or eating animals, but … I wish I'd gotten to meet my forefather as well."
T'Pol continued providing praise.
After giving birth, T'Pol entered a light-healing trance, unable to carry on long conversations. She was, in a word, exhausted. Though groggy, she noticed Trip cradled Lorian in his arms, crying with joy at his first glance at a baby they'd worked so hard to create and bring into the world.
And throughout the years, she saw that Trip's love was equally returned. Lorian spoke first in English, walked for Trip first, smiled for him and hung on him like a devoted child. From the very beginning the two were completely smitten with each other and stayed that way. Even when the boy had entered what Trip had deemed, "an awkward stage," the only one who could reason with him was her husband and usually wasn't through logic at all, but through love. He'd touch the boy's face or shoulder, bring him into his chest or clap him on the back. Their bond, and she deemed that's exactly what it was, was never contentious or angry. In a way, her son worshipped Trip … something that only increased with time.
Vulcan children, although cared for and cherished, were never affectionate. In fact, part of the training Vulcans received from an early age was to dismiss and deny it. In a way, she felt unable to satisfy some of the boy's needs. Her husband had been the more loving parent, whispering away nightmares, talking out feelings and giving fatherly advice.
Unfortunately, her own relationship with her son was more confusing. She loved him deeply, but didn't understand his need or the depth of his emotions. Although T'Pol had recognized she was the most emotional Vulcan she'd come across, especially after her addiction and subsequent recovery, she was nowhere near human. And she clung to many of her Vulcan rituals as if they were comforts, mostly because she'd always done them.
She could understand how Lorian missed his father. She missed Trip probably even more than she would admit to herself. Illogically, she'd refused to donate or give away his clothing. Instead, she would occasionally bring them out and take in the scent, which continued to linger there. Before going to bed, she'd meditate on him, bringing his face to her mind and imagining their banter.
The road to marriage and their dating certainly wasn't easy … and she struggled and denied it at each step. But, to Trip's credit, he never gave up on her and continued to be her suitor until she gave into her feelings and him. He'd been there when she'd needed him most – to work through feelings and help with issues – and she had fallen in love with him, even if she was unwilling to admit it to herself for some time.
Rousting her from her thoughts, Lorian said, "Why didn't you and Dad have any more children?"
Letting her eyes twinkle, she said, "Your father said you were perfect. I believe his exact words were, 'Why mess with perfection?'"
"You miss him, too," Lorian said.
"Of course. More than you know or can understand."
She noted that gave him some comfort. Dipping her spoon for the last of her meal, she wondered about Archer and the situation. It needed to be addressed, but later. Putting it off to another day would be foolish; it would follow them onto the Bridge and strain his command and their friendship. Instead, she'd meditate on it and answer him later this evening.
Chapter 8
That evening, Archer wasn't surprised to see T'Pol standing at his door. He knew she'd want to talk with him and get things settled before work the next day; she always approached things logically and methodically … almost all the time.
He glanced over his shoulder and said, "Henry, could you watch your sister?"
Henry, caught up in some game on the PADD, nodded feebly as Archer walked down the hall with T'Pol. She led him to the Mess Hall and then into the Captain's Mess so they could have some privacy. Since no one was expecting them, they entered without a fuss.
This is the moment that Archer had been dreading all day. He'd turned the information over in his mind trying to decide what the right thing to do was, and the most noble. It was obvious from Lorian's reaction the child was angry. The response was probably common and it was certainly understandable, but it didn't make him feel any better about the situation.
Archer stared at his hands.
"I take it what Lorian said this morning was the truth," she said, getting straight to the point.
He chewed the inside of his mouth trying to figure out how to respond. The only thing he could do was weakly nod his head and remain focused on his right thumb.
Wishing he'd look at her, she heaved a small sigh. "Jonathan, how long have we known each other?"
The question caught him off guard, as if it were a trick question. Hesitating, he answered, "Don't know … almost twenty years?"
"That's correct. We've been friends for many years. During that time, I've had fleeting thoughts … doubts mostly … that you were attracted to me."
He gazed on her wishing to contradict every word she said and profess his feelings as they bubbled up to the surface, but waited for her to finish.
"If I'd known, I would've clarified how I felt."
"How do you feel?" he asked.
Looking into each other's eyes, they tried to determine the other's thoughts. Archer was brooding, expecting to hear the worst, but slightly hopeful. On the opposite of the spectrum was T'Pol who seemed open and honest.
"I'm still in love with Trip. I always will be."
He gave a quiet snort and turned his head, unwilling to hear the meager explanation of how she'd never care for him romantically. Admitting she wasn't in love with him was worse, much worse, than believing one day she would; the thought of having her return his feeling cheered him up and made him continue with his day … that and imagining two tiny ridged heads looking up at him. Actually, he'd always felt needed – captain, father …. What he wanted was to be needed as a man, but it looked like that was completely out of the question.
"I think you have many fine qualities that have enabled us to be friends for so long and I cherish …."
The way she formed each word seemed it was intended to let him down easy. Instead of letting the conversation deteriorate, he stood up, hoping to make a quick escape.
"I hope Lorian's okay. Think I should talk with him?"
"I don't know," she said quietly. As Archer headed for the door, her hand stopped him. "You're not letting me finish."
"I'm not trying to be disrespectful, I … it doesn't seem you and I feel the same way."
Her gaze fell onto the table.
"No sense in going through the motions. We've been friends for too long to do that," he added.
"I suppose you're right."
"I hope we can still be friends," he said, staring at her.
She gave a curt nod, saw that he needed a little more confirmation and whispered, "Yes, we're still friends."
Taking the information in stride, he walked out, down the hall and decided to play the role of father. Deep down, it hurt that he'd been rejected. He'd been living a schoolboy-like crush for years -- wondering which outfit she'd be wearing, what perfume she'd use and whether she'd afford him the luxury of touching his arm, which she did on occasion. Well, at least he wouldn't be living a lie anymore.
The children were a welcome distraction. As soon as he walked in Elyssa threw her arms up in the air demanding attention while Henry chattered on about the past thirty minutes as if Archer had missed hours of excitement, mostly complaining about his little sister.
With some relief, Archer called up a movie from the database about princesses, projected it against the wall and watched for the tenth time with feigned amusement as Elyssa curled up, mesmerized, in his lap and Henry scooted closer than most boys his age want to be, occasionally looking over at his dad. Jon gave a sly grin and rested his hand on the boy's neck.
With a quick kiss on his daughter's blonde head, Archer whispered to both kids, "Love you."
Elyssa averted her eyes from the screen long enough to sloppily kiss her father as Henry shyly shirked the man's touch, mumbling, "You, too."
A tired old Porthos grumbled into Elyssa's lap and rested his weary head.
TBC