A/N - Thanks to everyone who reviewed for your patience. Special thanks to Rinne for taking the time to beta this for me. I'm still dancing around saying "I've got a beta... I've got a beta..." and a damn good one too- Again, if I missed anything it's my fault. You've all been so awesome I can't believe it.

Exploded Pen - Thank you for sparing me from the pointy stick. Maybe you'll have to use it on me next story... WhtevrHpnd2Mary - Sorry for the roller coaster ride (wait, no I'm not!). Lot of questions I'll be addressing in the sequel I'm planning (rubs hands excitedly)...Tata - Sorry it took so long...TLI - Thanks! I'm glad I managed to keep you guessing...KaliedescopeCate - Not going too much farther, but willtie upthe loose ends in the next story.In fact, the loose ends are the better part of the next story ...Stage Manager, Laura B, Jani, Jaws, Truetrefan rebekah78 - I knowI took too long. A lot of cliffhanging. Hope you like the end... Roaring Mice - Thanks for sticking with it.I probably need to workmaking the first part more interesting next time. Thanks for the input!

... Anyway, now that I'm all done, please let me know what you thought.

CordyB :)

The Price Of Fear

Chapter 5

I

Anda stared in disbelief. This couldn't be the way it ended. Not after all she had tried to do. Not after the sacrifices she had made. She watched as Archer gently eased Lieutenant Reed away from the Commander and still she couldn't believe it. She continued to stare, waiting, after everyone else had turned away, then her eyes drifted down to a terrible sight that wrenched her back into reality.

She stared down at her red, bloodied hands, then back up to where Commander Tucker lay. A lead weight pressed against her chest and she found it difficult to breath. There was a horrible emptiness eating her. This should have been a time of rejoicing, but instead nothing was as it should be…and never would be again. Then she turned and flung herself at Abella, who reached out instinctively to her.

"What have I done sister?" Anda said staring at Abella's face with wide, unblinking eyes.

Abella shook her head, her hands dropped to her side. "It has been many years since you called me that," she said.

She looked on as T'Pol moved in and found a spot on the side of the Commander's neck. The Vulcan looked up and slowly turned toward Archer and shook her head.

"You've killed a man," Archer responded to Anda's question. "That's what you've done." He closed the gap between them in a few quick steps, only to be held back by the Tuin guards. "You're a cold-blooded murderer."

"It was never supposed to be about death," Anda said desperately. "It was supposed to be about life."

"It was always about death," Abella said quietly. "This place is steeped in horror and death. It is what our lives have become."

Anda buried her head into Abella's shoulder, bloody fingers clutching at the other woman's robes.

"It is over," Abella said, reaching her hands back up to embrace the trembling Keeper. She looked into Archer's eyes, and in that brief instant she realized they shared the same understanding. She spoke to the guards that held him.

"Let him go," she said. "Let them all go. It is over."

The guards looked with uncertainty at Abella and at the broken form of their Keeper. Then, with no further instructions from Anda, they released Archer, each guard moving slowly away.

"Give them their communication devices and escort them to their craft," she finished.

Abella watched as T'Pol carefully picked up Commander Tucker's limp body and moved to follow the guards out the door. Archer followed closely behind them supporting Lieutenant Reed.

They had a shared realization, she and the captain, an epiphany perhaps. An understanding. In a few moments it would all be over. They would be gone and what was left of her nightmare would leave with them. She smiled thinly in the remaining dimness as the door thumped closed.

II

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stood almost at attention in the front of the gathering with the other senior officers. The captain was speaking, but Malcolm couldn't quite focus on the words he was saying as he stood beside the now-open tube which held Sim's still form. Archer's words were solemn, rehearsed, precise, his emotions held carefully in check as if the slightest deviation would destroy his composure.

This seemed all too familiar. It had happened before, back in the expanse. It couldn't possibly be happening again.

Then Malcolm remembered. He shook his head slightly, the moment like a dizzying dream. It wasn't Sim this time, was it? It wasn't the replica who sacrificed himself to keep the real Trip alive. This was Trip's funeral. The realization hit him like a punch to the stomach, taking his breath away.

His mind was a confusing jumble of distorted, unsequenced events. He tried to think back to where things had gone so terribly wrong, but it seemed that nothing had gone right in a very long while. He wasn't sure where it had started.

Malcolm crossed his arms tightly and closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened, Then Trip was in front of him, a shadowy ghost against the backdrop of his darkened vision. A vivid dream in this new, harsh reality.

Trip crossed his own arms but said nothing and Malcolm looked at him, an inexplicable feeling of guilt washing over him. Then Malcolm opened his eyes and slowly unfolded his arms, hands turned upward toward his face. They were shaking. He remembered kneeling over Trip as he drew his last breaths, remembered the blood, the life slipping out of his friend's body. He could have saved him then, couldn't he have? That's what they had told him. But he didn't.

"I'm sorry Trip," Malcolm managed through his suddenly constricted throat. "I'm so sorry."

Trip just looked at him, a peaceful expression on his face. Did he even hear him? He had to hear him.

"Please," Malcolm continued, looking again at his shaking hands, "forgive me."

III

It was deep nighttime in the corridors of Enterprise and Archer was sharply aware of the lack of illumination as he made his way to sickbay. He stopped and stood briefly in front of the doors before they slid open with a slight shushing sound that seemed to remind him to be quiet. It was dim in sickbay as well, but Doctor Phlox was still there, as expected, fussing over the monitors and readings the bed displayed.

"How are they?" Archer asked quietly.

The doctor started slightly and turned to him.

"Ah, Captain," he said, a broad smile spreading across his face. "The Commander's injuries were extensive, but his condition is stable now. I expect him to recover completely, given time."

Archer's face took on a surprised expression as he looked at Trip. He remembered the ride back on the shuttlepod, how he had wondered if Trip wasn't in fact really dead despite T'Pol's assurances. He had certainly fooled their Tuin escorts.

Archer scrubbed a hand over his face in relief, then looked up at the Doctor. "Thank you," he said softly.

Phlox shook his head. "Commander Tucker's injuries were far beyond my or any other doctor's medical skills, Captain."

"Then how…" the Captain paused as a realization struck him and glanced over at the man lying in the other bed.

"We have Lieutenant Reed to thank for that," Phlox said. "The same energy signatures emanating form the Lieutenant's body are also present in Commander Tucker, though to a much lesser degree."

Archer looked at Phlox disbelieving. "But…we didn't see anything down there. The Tuin were convinced that he had failed."

"Probably due to differences between Human and Tuin physiology, I imagine the results were not as dramatic," Phlox said. "The Commander was not completely healed, his condition was merely stabilized. However, the outcome is the same. He is alive."

"So Malcolm is this Healer," Archer said, a look of awe spreading over his face.

"What?" Then Phlox realized what the captain was referring to and shook his head. "No…well, at least not for much longer. And the Lieutenant is definitely not 'The Healer' in the Tuin religious sense."

The captain shook his head. "I'm a little confused. Would you mind explaining what happened here? I thought I had lost two of my people, my friends, and now they are here again… alive. Forgive me if this seems like a miracle to me." He looked up, eyes begging for answers.

"It does seem to be quite the miracle, doesn't it," Phlox said, "but completely explainable I assure you." The doctor laced his fingers in front of him and fidgeted his thumbs absently.

Archer turned back expectantly as Phlox continued, his usual bubbling enthusiasm notably subdued as he went on.

"This is an amazing example of bio-nanotechnology at work," he said, bobbing his head as a slight frown crossed his face. "Very amazing really."

"I'm familiar with nanotechnology, Doctor," Archer said. "Even our hand-scanners would have picked up nanites."

"Ah, but these are not nanites, they are bio-nanites." Phlox said. "They are created using organic materials. They would have used the Lieutenant's own cells and DNA to recreate themselves, to try to make themselves compatible with their host. It's really quite fascinating, if a little controversial. Even now, this technology is in its nascent stages on several worlds. I believe there are even some fringe organizations on Earth researching it."

"So, again, he really is the Healer?" Archer asked.

"For now," Phlox said. Then by way of explanation, "The bio-nanites are the mechanism by which the Healer… well… heals, but Lieutenant Reed's body is rejecting them."

A strained voice drew Archer's attention to Malcolm's biobed.

"I'm sorry, Trip," Malcolm choked out quietly, then faded to a whisper. "I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me."

Archer looked more closely at the Lieutenant. His face was glossy with sweat, eyes jerking fitfully under closed lids. Then he began tossing and mumbling unintelligibly and Phlox moved quickly to press a hypo-spray against his neck.

"Will he be all right?" Archer asked, face a mask of concern.

"The fever will pass once the bio-nanites have been destroyed," Phlox explained, "but he is quite delirious at the moment. The best I can do is keep him sedated until this runs its course."

"Have you tried to extract a sample of these bio-nanites?" Archer asked.

"I have, but with no success," Phlox said. "They are unstable outside of the Lieutenant's body." He looked at Malcolm. "This line will be lost. The nucleus of a bio-nanite is almost impossible to re-create, even with a detailed scan." Phlox turned away slightly, then said more quietly, "I believe the universe will be better for their loss."

"You don't approve of this type of research I take it," Archer said.

"As miraculous as they seem," Phlox said, turning back to face Archer, "I don't think their loss will be so terrible. They've caused a lot of suffering."

"Perhaps you're right," Archer said softly.

Archer gazed down at Malcolm for a moment then turned back to Trip. He let himself breathe a sigh of relief, despite persistent feelings of guilt. He knew T'Pol was right though, he had made the only decisions available to him at the time. He shook his head. Trip and Malcolm would be all right, but what about the girl? The price of fear had not been paid, but she was dead and civility could never bring her back. Nothing could.

- Epilogue to follow