~*~Disclaimer=me no own~*~ Aww! Thanks for all the reviews! They're really
encouraging!~*~
Malcolm stared in a mix of disbelief and shock at the figure before him.
'Aren't you gonna say something?'
"M........Ma.........Matthew," he stammered.
'The one and only!'
Malcolm just simply stared. The figure before him looked exactly like his brother, same dark hair, blue eyes, same build and same grin on his face. But tell tale cuts were on his arms from elbow to wrist and he looked ghostly white.
Matthew noticed him staring at his arms.
'Some things I couldn't erase, after all you did let me die.'
"You killed yourself," Malcolm whispered finally finding his voice.
'We both know why.'
Matthew looked around the room.
'Nice place, cold, clinical, hospital corners on your bed.........nice........ Dad would've been proud.'
Malcolm stiffened.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked. "My brother died when I was sixteen, if this is some sick joke..........."
'Oh don't get so high and mighty-it doesn't suit you. You know exactly who I am. I'm your brother Malcolm,' said Matthew grinning
"You're dead," said Malcolm quietly as if trying to convince himself.
'You'd think so wouldn't you?' Matthew told him. 'But I've got unfinished business with you and you know what? I'm getting bored now.'
"Bridge to Lt Reed" the comm. chirped.
'Ignore it Malcolm, we're gonna play a game now. Remember that one we used to play when we were little? British Bulldog?'
((a/n there is a game called British Bulldog but it's not the one that's mentioned here-this is a completely different game))
Malcolm recoiled, he knew that game. Matthew's favourite game to play. The name sent shivers down his spine. That game was the reason he learnt self defence.
Matthew advanced on him grinning. Malcolm hit out at him, his hand passing through Matthews face.
'Did I forget to mention that?'
Malcolm braced himself for impact when the door opened.
"Mal, I've been looking over those specs' ya gave me," said Trip coming into the room, he looked up seeing the expression of disbelief on his friends face. "Sorry I didn't knock but ya take too long in openin' the door."
"No it's fine," said Malcolm a feeling of relief flooding through him when he realised Matthew had disappeared.
As he followed Trip from his quarters he heard a voice say:
'Sweet dreams Mal.'
A chill ran down his spine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
"The evidence suggests the anomaly seems to be a living entity," T'Pol announced.
"Can we contact it?" Archer asked curiously.
"I do not know," T'Pol admitted. "However in this past week it has grown considerably."
Everyone's attention turned to the viewscreen.
The thing outside had now taken on a much darker hue with flecks of grey dotted around. It was a strangely beautiful sight.
Malcolm stared at it, his thoughts turning to the events in his quarters. As soon as he had got to his station he'd run a full scan of the ship but come up empty handed. He could still see his brother stood there taunting him with little jibes. As much as he hated to admit it he was afraid to go back to his quarters.
He was afraid of a dead man.
After all these years his brother still had a hold over him.
"Malcolm?"
Realising he was been talked to he tore his attention away from the viewer.
"I'd like to have a word with you in my ready room," said Archer looking concerned. "Now."
Sighing Malcolm followed Archer to his ready room.
"I'm worried about you Malcolm," he said immediately.
"Sir?"
"You obviously haven't been sleeping, is it the nightmares?"
Malcolm didn't reply.
"Do you want to tell me about them?"
Malcolm remained silent.
"I could order you to tell me, but I'd prefer it for you to tell me by choice."
Malcolm stared Archer straight the eyes.
"I'd prefer not to say."
"It's affecting you Malcolm, I need my staff alert, I can't have one of them suffering silently because they feel they can't talk to anyone."
"With all due respect sir it's my business not yours."
"I make it my business. I don't want to order you to talk but I will if you won't cooperate."
"I dream I'm in a room, there's a body on the floor and I can't move."
Archer studied Malcolm's face intently. He knew Malcolm wasn't telling the whole truth and wanted to press him further but a tired worn out look was on Malcolm's face and he couldn't bring himself to ask.
"Go see Phlox, see if he can help you sleep and take the rest of the day," Archer told him. "We'll continue this tomorrow. No arguments. Dismissed."
Malcolm marched into the turbo lift a feeling of dread settling on him.
~*~Please review! I know where this is going but I'd still like to know your thoughts~*~
Malcolm stared in a mix of disbelief and shock at the figure before him.
'Aren't you gonna say something?'
"M........Ma.........Matthew," he stammered.
'The one and only!'
Malcolm just simply stared. The figure before him looked exactly like his brother, same dark hair, blue eyes, same build and same grin on his face. But tell tale cuts were on his arms from elbow to wrist and he looked ghostly white.
Matthew noticed him staring at his arms.
'Some things I couldn't erase, after all you did let me die.'
"You killed yourself," Malcolm whispered finally finding his voice.
'We both know why.'
Matthew looked around the room.
'Nice place, cold, clinical, hospital corners on your bed.........nice........ Dad would've been proud.'
Malcolm stiffened.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked. "My brother died when I was sixteen, if this is some sick joke..........."
'Oh don't get so high and mighty-it doesn't suit you. You know exactly who I am. I'm your brother Malcolm,' said Matthew grinning
"You're dead," said Malcolm quietly as if trying to convince himself.
'You'd think so wouldn't you?' Matthew told him. 'But I've got unfinished business with you and you know what? I'm getting bored now.'
"Bridge to Lt Reed" the comm. chirped.
'Ignore it Malcolm, we're gonna play a game now. Remember that one we used to play when we were little? British Bulldog?'
((a/n there is a game called British Bulldog but it's not the one that's mentioned here-this is a completely different game))
Malcolm recoiled, he knew that game. Matthew's favourite game to play. The name sent shivers down his spine. That game was the reason he learnt self defence.
Matthew advanced on him grinning. Malcolm hit out at him, his hand passing through Matthews face.
'Did I forget to mention that?'
Malcolm braced himself for impact when the door opened.
"Mal, I've been looking over those specs' ya gave me," said Trip coming into the room, he looked up seeing the expression of disbelief on his friends face. "Sorry I didn't knock but ya take too long in openin' the door."
"No it's fine," said Malcolm a feeling of relief flooding through him when he realised Matthew had disappeared.
As he followed Trip from his quarters he heard a voice say:
'Sweet dreams Mal.'
A chill ran down his spine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
"The evidence suggests the anomaly seems to be a living entity," T'Pol announced.
"Can we contact it?" Archer asked curiously.
"I do not know," T'Pol admitted. "However in this past week it has grown considerably."
Everyone's attention turned to the viewscreen.
The thing outside had now taken on a much darker hue with flecks of grey dotted around. It was a strangely beautiful sight.
Malcolm stared at it, his thoughts turning to the events in his quarters. As soon as he had got to his station he'd run a full scan of the ship but come up empty handed. He could still see his brother stood there taunting him with little jibes. As much as he hated to admit it he was afraid to go back to his quarters.
He was afraid of a dead man.
After all these years his brother still had a hold over him.
"Malcolm?"
Realising he was been talked to he tore his attention away from the viewer.
"I'd like to have a word with you in my ready room," said Archer looking concerned. "Now."
Sighing Malcolm followed Archer to his ready room.
"I'm worried about you Malcolm," he said immediately.
"Sir?"
"You obviously haven't been sleeping, is it the nightmares?"
Malcolm didn't reply.
"Do you want to tell me about them?"
Malcolm remained silent.
"I could order you to tell me, but I'd prefer it for you to tell me by choice."
Malcolm stared Archer straight the eyes.
"I'd prefer not to say."
"It's affecting you Malcolm, I need my staff alert, I can't have one of them suffering silently because they feel they can't talk to anyone."
"With all due respect sir it's my business not yours."
"I make it my business. I don't want to order you to talk but I will if you won't cooperate."
"I dream I'm in a room, there's a body on the floor and I can't move."
Archer studied Malcolm's face intently. He knew Malcolm wasn't telling the whole truth and wanted to press him further but a tired worn out look was on Malcolm's face and he couldn't bring himself to ask.
"Go see Phlox, see if he can help you sleep and take the rest of the day," Archer told him. "We'll continue this tomorrow. No arguments. Dismissed."
Malcolm marched into the turbo lift a feeling of dread settling on him.
~*~Please review! I know where this is going but I'd still like to know your thoughts~*~