Title: Thursday's Child

Author: Sita Z

Rating: T

AN: Thanks for the feedback!

The Libran Iniquity (Yup, nearly done. Although the experimental sedatives conspiracy sounds interesting... well, here we go, the plot bunnies bite again ;) ), Virgo (I guess you're right, maybe Trip would have asked about his children even before Malcolm mentioned them... they are, after all, the most important thing in his life), Tata (It's great to hear that you're enjoying the story so much! Thank you!), Gabi (Dankeschön... wenn schon die Bewohner des Planeten relativ ätzend sind, haben sie wenigstens eine ganz nette Sprache ;) ), stage manager (Nope, only read the book, which I liked a lot. I have to admit, I wasn't even aware that there was a Disney version... maybe because the story's not that well known in Germany), JadziaKathryn (thanks, and you'll see more of the other crewmembers in this chapter), volley (Sequel? -faints- Not another 100 000 words-monster ;)... then again, I have to admit, Malcolm finding his Lost Ones -is- a nice idea), trisuns5 (the thought occurred to me as well ;)... but as you said, they couldn't possibly get together in the AU universe), Trips Girl (Go L.C., she sounds just like my cat ;)! When I was re-reading this chapter, he walked across the keyboard of my computer and (accidently?) deleted a whole paragraph... oh well ;). Luckily I had it saved somewhere else as well. ), Emiliana Keladry (They certainly are a corrupt system... I guess Earth will be better off without them), Maraschino (I do, too ;)... well, here's another one), Exploded Pen (Can you show me how to do it (the mind control, I mean)? Might come in handy ;)... anyway, thanks for reviewing!), JennMel (thank you, please keep telling me what you think!)

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Chapter 21

"Ground control to Lieutenant Reed! Come in, Lieutenant!"

Startled, Malcolm looked up from his plate and saw Hoshi standing in front of him. The corners of her mouth twitched when he almost knocked over his glass.

"I'm sorry, I was lost in thought." He pointed at the chair next to his. "Please, take a seat."

Hoshi placed her tray on the table and sat down. "Thanks."

She picked up her fork, then looked across at the pasta Malcolm had barely touched - or rather, which he had reduced to an unsightly pulp in the middle of his plate. "You're going to tell me what's on your mind?"

Malcolm shrugged. To be honest, he wanted an answer to that question himself. "I don't know. Maybe it's just the lack of anything to do."

Hoshi gave him her best "here-we-go-again" look. "You've been out of sickbay for less than twenty-four hours, Lieutenant. And I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, but you do look like you need another few days of sick leave."

"Charming as always, Ensign." Malcolm smiled at her, enjoying their familiar banter. Hoshi wasn't going to fuss over him - on seeing him again, her first words had been "That'll save us the paperwork of asking for a replacement" - and Malcolm found that this was exactly what he needed. He was back, and he was alright. There was no need for anyone to tiptoe around him.

Hoshi forked some of her pasta into her mouth. "How's Trip?" she asked. "Still in sickbay?"

Malcolm shook his head and set his own pasta aside. "No, Phlox released him to his quarters this morning. He's supposed to rest for another couple of days so the drugs can wear off completely. I guess he's sleeping." He remembered how exhausted Trip had been after walking from sickbay to his quarters, all but collapsing on his bed. "He's still very tired most of the time."

Hoshi nodded. "I can imagine." She speared another piece of pasta with her fork, and looked up at him again, her expression unusually serious. "You're still thinking about it, aren't you? About what he did, I mean."

Malcolm lowered his eyes. No, Hoshi wasn't going to fuss, but the small drawback was that she could practically read his mind. It was an uncanny ability of hers, picking up on his thoughts as if she could actually see what was going on in his head.

"Sometimes," he admitted quietly. "That, and everything else."

They sat in silence for a while, Hoshi finishing her pasta and picking at her dessert cake as if she couldn't quite decide whether to eat it or not. After a while, Malcolm joined in, eating the raisins that Hoshi had picked out and discarded on the edge of her plate. Intent on dissecting the cake, both of them jumped when Archer set his tray down next to Hoshi's.

"Okay if I join you?"

Hoshi smiled at him, and Malcolm nodded. "Please do."

Archer took a seat, glancing across the table at Malcolm. "How're you doing, Lieutenant?"

"Better, thanks." Malcolm smiled. "It's good to be out of sickbay."

Archer nodded, absentmindedly picking at his food. He had chosen one of the Vulcan dishes, and didn't even seem to notice what he was eating, mechanically transferring bits of green into his mouth. Malcolm and Hoshi exchanged a look.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" the communications officer ventured finally.

Archer raised his eyes, then laid his fork aside and ran a hand through his hair, staring at his dinner as though he was trying to figure out how it had come to be there in front of him. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just a little rattled, I suppose." He sighed. "The Captain's just got a call from Admiral Selin."

Hoshi's head came up sharply at that. "What did he say?" She hesitated. "Did they...?"

"Yeah," Archer said heavily. "It's official. The Joint Forces have been dissolved. For good."

Silence ensued. Archer stared down at his plate, not meeting their eyes. A detached part of Malcolm's mind wondered why he was so surprised; after the newscast T'Pol had shown him he had known that it was only a matter of time. But still, thinking about a possibility was one thing; hearing it aloud was another.

"So..." He picked at a few crumbs Hoshi had left on the table, not wanting to look at Archer. "I guess that means we're out of a job."

The Commander raised his eyes. "Not necessarily," he said. "Selin and his Command staff believe that the Joint Forces can't possibly continue to exist, after all what happened. Starfleet seems to be another matter, however."

Hoshi shook her head. "Even with the JF gone, I don't think people will accept us. And to be frank, I can't blame them."

"That's what the Captain told the Admiral," Archer said. "But Selin says he's optimistic. There were no Starfleet personnel involved in the affair, and the story of how T'Pol discovered the hidden archive files is all over the media. People back on Earth and Vulcan don't seem to blame us."

"What about Singer?" Hoshi wanted to know. "Did they find him?"

The Commander shook his head. "One of his staff said that he might have left the planet, but no one knows for sure. They're still looking for him, of course."

"So what's going to happen?" Malcolm asked. "Once we reach Earth, I mean."

Archer sighed. "Enterprise'll go into dry dock, I suppose. The Admiral said we're on "indefinite leave", whatever that's supposed to mean." He shrugged. "I'm not going, anyway. There's no way I'm leaving my engines in the hands of those Spacedock techs."

Malcolm saw Hoshi's lips twitch just the tiniest bit. "What about Martha?" she asked. "I'm sure she won't be happy if you spend your leave tinkering with the warp reactor."

At the mention of his wife, Archer's expression brightened a little. "Oh, she'll be fine," he said. "I promised her to give her a tour of Enterprise, and I guess she won't mind staying aboard for a while."

Knowing Martha Archer, a dedicated engineer and teacher at the Academy, Malcolm had no doubt that a few weeks cooped up with her husband and some machinery to work on would pass as a great vacation in her book.

"Yeah, well." Hoshi smiled. "Can't say I'm not looking forward to seeing my students again. It's not that I don't want to come back to Enterprise," she hastened to add. "It's just... I've had enough adventures for a while. And I do miss my folks at home."

Malcolm stared down at Hoshi's half-eaten cake, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. He had been pushing the thought of going back to Earth out of his mind, not knowing what to do with the idea. Or rather, what to do with himself. He couldn't really stay on Enterprise - the engineering team was more than capable of refitting the Armory, and he would only be in their way. Still, the prospect of spending his "indefinite leave" in some rental apartment somewhere on the Academy grounds was not something he was looking forward to.

"Malcolm?"

Raising his eyes, he found both Archer and Hoshi looking at him.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Malcolm pushed back his chair and got up, giving them a rather forced smile. "I'm a little tired, I guess I'll call it a day. Commander, Ensign.."

He could feel their eyes between his shoulder blades as he walked to the door, but he never turned around. It was depressing enough to be the only human aboard who had absolutely no one waiting for him back on Earth. Additional worried looks and questions were just a little more than Malcolm wanted to deal with at the moment.

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At the door of his quarters, Malcolm hesitated. He hadn't lied when he told Hoshi and Archer that he was tired; his arm ached, and he could feel a headache starting. Turning in early seemed like good idea. Still, for some reason the thought of his empty quarters didn't seem very appealing; quite the opposite, actually. Malcolm doubted that he would be able to find any rest, lying in the dark and listening to himself breathing.

He stared at the door for a moment, then, abruptly, turned away. There was no reason why he couldn't check on Trip before he went to bed. See if he needed anything. And maybe talk a little.

The guest quarters were only a few corridors away on E-deck. His hand on the door panel, Malcolm remembered a second too late that Trip might have turned in as well. He bit his lip, deciding that he wasn't going to try again if Trip didn't answer within a few minutes. The other man needed his sleep even more than Malcolm did.

He was already about to turn away when the door opened, revealing Trip wearing sweat pants and one of the tee-shirts he had borrowed from Travis. He looked pale, and the pillow creases on his cheek indicated that he had been resting until a moment ago.

"Malcolm!" Trip's face lit up when he saw him, as if Malcolm hadn't just woken him from some much-needed sleep. "Please, come in."

"I'm sorry, Trip, I didn't mean to wake you up." Inwardly, Malcolm shook his head at his own stupidity. "I'll go back to my quarters..."

"Please. I don't mind. And I could use the company." Trip glanced over his shoulder with a rueful smile. "It's a little too quiet in here without the kids."

He made room and Malcolm followed him inside, the door closing behind them. Even though Trip did look tired, he seemed genuinely pleased, and the thought occurred to Malcolm that he might not be the only one who suffered from a lack of anything to do.

Trip turned around the desk chair so it was facing the bunk. "Please, sit down."

"Thanks." Malcolm took a seat, and at the same time noted several padds and papers lying on the table. "Looks like you've been busy. More lessons with Hoshi?"

"Not really." Trip sat down cross-legged on his bunk. "I've... I've been trying to write a letter. I find it easier to write it by hand first before I type it on the computer." He smiled, a little embarrassed. "I make fewer mistakes that way."

"A letter to your parents?" Malcolm asked.

"Yes, and to Sara and Sammy. I got another letter from them today. And I got one each from my brother and sister."

Malcolm sat up straight. "Your brother and sister?"

Trip nodded, picking up a padd from his bedside table. "Andy and Lizzie. I... I didn't even remember that I had a sister." He looked up at Malcolm. "It feels strange."

"I imagine it does." Briefly, Malcolm imagined how it would feel, meeting his own brother or sister. Or receiving their letter. Maybe - he flinched at the thought - he had even seen a relative of his during his time on Kareedia, seen but not recognized. Of course not. The idea, as unlikely as it was, was unsettling, and Malcolm found he could sympathize with the troubled look in Trip's eyes. It did feel strange, even in imagination.

"What do they say?"

"They want to know how I am, and my brother wrote something about his children. I think." Again, Trip seemed embarrassed. "I got the general idea, but there were a few things I couldn't quite figure out. I was hoping you could..."

"Of course." Malcolm held out his hand and smiled. "Any preferences which one you'd like to hear first?"

Trip answered his smile, handing him the padd. "It doesn't matter."

Malcolm skimmed over the text, a smile tugging at his lips when he saw the opening of the first letter.

"Hey little bro,

You could've knocked me down with a feather when Mom told me about your call. I straight down refused to believe her at first. I've got to admit, I'm more than excited about meeting you - and so is the rest of the tribe, by the way. Just so you're warned, there's no way they're not going to come round to meet you, and yes, that does mean all of them.

I met Sara and Sammy when I visited Mom and Dad last week, and I've got to say, they're great kids. Matt and Philip - that's my sons - got along with them just fine. Phil is three, and you should have seen him with Sammy; both talking a blue streak in two different languages and using sign language if they felt that they did need to communicate. Mom and I were in stitches, listening to them."

Malcolm grinned, and saw Trip smiling as well. Neither of them had a hard time picturing the situation.

"Mom says that they're trying to use the translator as little as possible, so the kids can get used to speaking English. Sara's great; she's even picked up a little Spanish from the neighbor kids. I'm sure she'll be top of the class in a few years. And Sammy's a bright little guy, too. You can be proud of both of them.

Dad's told us that you haven't been well lately; he seemed reluctant to tell us more, but I guess I can imagine. Thank God that's all over and done with now, and that damned organization had to close shop. It was about time. Well, all I can really say is that I hope you're doing better; tell those Starfleet people to speed things up a little! Everybody here is just waiting for you to come home.

We'll see you soon!

Take care,

Andy."

Malcolm scrolled down the padd and regarded the picture of Sara, Sammy and a small, blond boy who was wearing an over-large grass-stained tee-shirt and smiling all over his face.

"This must be Phil," he said.

Trip nodded. "It's good to hear that Sara and Sammy get along so well with their cousins," he said. "They're not really used to playing with other children." He paused, seeming to go through the letter in his mind. "What does he mean, "the rest of the tribe"? Who's that?"

Malcolm grinned. "I believe he's referring to the rest of your family."

"Oh." Trip's eyes widened slightly. "Oh, of course."

Malcolm raised the padd. "Want to hear Lizzie's letter, too?"

Trip nodded, and Malcolm began to read.

"Dear Trip,

It feels strange to write to an older brother I have never met. I've got to admit, at first I was a little reluctant to do so... Andy's different, he never seems nervous about anything (in fact, he's already plotting how to get you to join his soccer team). I'm not like that, and at first I wasn't quite sure what to say. How you would react. But then it occurred to me that I'm probably not the only one feeling jittery... it can't be easy, meeting a family you haven't seen since you were four. We've got a lot of catching up to do, and even though I'm nervous as hell, I'm very much looking forward to meeting you. It may be a little strange at first, but that's okay. We can take the time to get to know each other better.

I've met Sara and Sammy when I was at Mom and Dad's place a few days ago. They're great kids, and probably the best thing that's happened to our parents in a long time. I can't remember when I last saw them so happy and full of life. Still, Sara and Sammy are missing you fiercely, and keep asking if you're going to come home soon. I believe they're slowly starting to feel at home on Earth, but I know it won't be the real thing for them as long as you're not around. To quote Dad, one more reason for Starfleet to get that warp engine of theirs up to speed!

Mom and Dad won't tell us exactly what happened to you on that Joint Forces vessel (I don't think they know all the details themselves). It seems that you've been through a lot lately, and it means so much to hear that you're going to be alright.

Please take care of yourself, Trip, and have a good journey back home. We're thinking of you.

Love,

Your sister Lizzie."

Trip was silent for a while after Malcolm had finished reading. Then he said: "She's right. It does feel strange, meeting them after so many years. I..." He swallowed. "I think they're going to be disappointed."

Malcolm met Trip's eyes, and saw the fear in them; fear that the family who was welcoming him so readily in their midst was going to turn away when they saw who he really was. Not some sort of mysterious, long-lost adventurer, but just a quiet, too-thin man who had led a life so different that he was going to seem like an alien to them.

"They won't be," Malcolm said quietly. "They've got no reason to. And Trip..." He hesitated, unsure how to put his thoughts into words. "I... I don't think they're expecting you to be anyone that you are not. I believe they only want you to come home."

For some reason, it hurt, saying these words. Malcolm glanced down at his hands, avoiding Trip's eyes.

The other man let out a small sigh. "Yes, well. In any case, I'm glad you're coming, too. I don't know if I could find the courage to meet them alone."

Malcolm's head came up with a start. He wasn't quite sure if he had heard him right, but Trip's anxious expression erased his doubts.

"You... you are coming, aren't you?"

"Trip..." Malcolm shook his head. "I couldn't do that. Your family... they wouldn't want-"

"But they do!" Trip seemed surprised that Malcolm would even consider otherwise. "My mother wanted to know if you'd mind staying in the guest room. She doesn't usually put any of the family in there, but with me and the children staying as well there wouldn't be enough space."

Malcolm stared at him, then let out a nervous laugh. "Trip, you're not serious..."

"Why not?" Trip appeared genuinely confused.

"Trip, I..." Malcolm trailed off. He remembered their first conversation with Trip's parents, how Mrs. Tucker had casually mentioned that she wanted "both of them" home as soon as possible. Then, Malcolm had not taken it seriously; people would say that kind of thing as often as not, without even thinking about it. Recalling the determined look in Susan's eyes, however, Malcolm realized that he might have been a little rash in his judgment. The way Trip made it sound, he, Malcolm Reed, had been adopted into the Tucker family long ago without even knowing it.

"Trip..." Malcolm broke off. There was no way he could intrude into the family's private sphere to that degree. He was going to tell them that he appreciated the offer, that he had a lot of work to do at the Academy and-

"Well?" Trip said, watching him expectantly. "Are you coming?"

Silence followed. And then Malcolm nodded. "Yes," he said. "I am."

Epilogue soon to come up!

Please let me know what you think!