A/N: Sorry it took so long to update this one. I went in a different direction that just felt wrong, including having Phlox trick T'Pol into spending time with men. That just didn't seem right. Hopefully this does. Thanks for waiting patiently.
In the next few weeks, T'Pol witnessed a few major events.
The one of most importance to her: Archer received a letter from T'Chall, her mother, letting Archer – in the most Vulcan of ways – that she was pleased her daughter would recover. She wasn't hated by everyone on Vulcan, only by the majority; logically she dared not compute the number of those against her despite her scientific brain edging in that direction.
It also indicated that if her mother cared for her, perhaps her brothers felt the same way.
An unVulcan feeling, which she was used to experiencing these days, nagged at her; she longed for her mother to join her and sit by her side … even if it was impossible. The woman, because of her reputation and prestige, was assigned to deep space. It must've been difficult for the captain to find her and explained the delay in the transmission.
Also during that time, Enterprise finished its mission: the Tellarite people were saved and the threat of the illness was entirely wiped out.
The moment Forrest contacted the captain to let him know the good news, T'Pol knew Archer'd make a special request to get some Denobulan assistance. Apparently Starfleet approved right away and Enterprise set out for the planet. Within three days, they reached the planet, contacted a team of specialists. Less than a day later, they came aboard to prod and poke T'Pol, giving pointers to Phlox and making recommendations of how to treat her. Overall, the feedback was encouraging: Phlox had done an amazing, stunning job. And the physicians at his disposal were duly impressed with his skills.
For three weeks, they prodded and poked at her, watching her around the clock. Finally at the third week, one of the women – Dr. Zalak – indicated they'd done everything they could and it was time to leave. And that was that.
But, her friends continued to come and stare over her bed as if it was a vigil. Their concerned faces would tense up on seeing her, fraying her nerves. Although T'Pol appreciated the worry, it had frayed her nerves to see people non-stop. It'd been since before transporting down to Salanacon that she'd been able to meditate, and that was more than a month ago.
In addition, her friends and the physicians touched her non-stop. Doctors placed scanners against her bare skin and felt at bruises and tender bones. Friends held her hand, stroked her hair or touched her cheek. Their emotions, concern, fear and anger flowed through her every day. Every day. Sometimes their fear would make her lip tremble and their anger would make her teeth itch.
It wasn't just those things, although they would've been enough. Occasionally during the day, when talking to a man alone, even a friend, she panicked. Her heart would beat wildly in her chest as if she was trapped and she would gasp for breath. Ironically, the men who made her uneasy were the ones she'd counted on the most, and the ones who'd saved her life: Phlox, the captain and Trip.
There was once, when she was alone with Jonathan … when she was in the deepest of sleeps, that she heard his voice. Although she couldn't concentrate on the words, her heart raced, forcing her to throw open her eyes in horror. The man must've known his presence caused her discomfort, because as soon as she opened his eyes, he stood up to stand across the room and apologize.
These instances were growing with regularity instead of decreasing, and T'Pol, for the first time in her life felt completely and utterly out of control. It'd been something she'd been trying to cover up; the less people knew about it the better.
Being alone will no doubt help, she thought.
Alone. The word sounded like refuge itself. Away from worried crewmen, the spotlight of doctors and their ever-present emotions. Alone to meditate. Alone to detest her Vulcan heritage and quietly rage. Alone to enjoy control and begin researching information in hopes that she would be able to return to work someday soon. Alone. It sounded, although she didn't have faith in any god, divine.
Fifty-nine minutes, she thought. Her head settled into the pillow.
At that exact moment Trip strolled in, beaming.
"Less than an hour to freedom, T'Pol," he said.
She was silent.
"I thought I'd come by and make sure you get all settled into your quarters."
No.
"I can take care of myself."
"Now, Dr. Phlox said--"
"I can take care of myself."
Trip stepped back. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed again?"
"No. I don't wish to be treated like an invalid."
"T'Pol, you're gonna have to face that you're just not up to par yet. I told --"
"Phlox is going to move me with Crewman Cutler's help. I appreciate your offer, but I don't need your assistance."
"I was gonna help you with your--"
"I'm not an invalid."
"Whoah. No one said you were."
She narrowed her eyes in response.
"If you don't want me here --"
"I don't want you here."
Trip crossed his arms. "Well, you gotta put up with one more day, but …. We're just tryin' to help."
"We?" she asked.
Archer walked through the door wearing a large smile and some casual clothes. Something she hadn't seen him wear in some time. Instead of looking rumpled, as he had for the past few weeks, his appearance looked neat and tidy … just like he had before Salanacon.
He said, "There's the patient now. You know what my watch says – it's 1310 and you have about fifty minutes--"
"I don't know if I'd go down that road, Cap'n. She's cranky."
"Oh? What's wrong? Feeling okay?"
"I'm fine. I was telling Commander Tucker that I don't need assistance or help. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Dr. Phlox and Crewman Cutler will take to my room."
Trip and Archer exchange glances, and the end of it the engineer shrugged.
Archer took a few tentative steps forward and then walked to sit next to her. "I know you must feel a little--"
"Trapped? Patronized?" she asked.
"I was going to say 'irritable.' I can understand why, too. But, let's face facts - when you get back to your cabin, you won't be able to fend for yourself at least not for a couple of days so--"
"Oh?" she asked.
Trip in the background shifted his weight. "Uhm, sir--?"
"That's right, T'Pol," Archer replied.
"Captain, I appreciate your help, but--"
Archer picked up the PADD in her lap and tossed it gingerly on the floor next to him – easily enough so the contraption didn't break.
Confusion spread across her features.
"Pick it up," he instructed.
The Vulcan looked around for a contraption that Trip had made – something he called the "grabber" to help her pick up things close by. As she scanned the room, she saw the long handle and "claw" of the device sitting helpless by another biobed and then remembered Reed had excitedly used it last time he was in Sickbay with her, which was only two hours ago.
"I would typically have the device Trip created to assist me."
Jon looked into her eyes and produced a frown. "I know you're getting better. You're making incredible progress. I'm sure it's difficult for you to be so reliant on others, but that's just the way it is for right now."
T'Pol's lips created a flat line, and her eyes refused to look at him.
"Trip and I are your friends. We want to help you."
Sticking her nose in the air, she continued to look across the room. She noticed his voice expressed frustration.
"I think you'll have more time to yourself in the future, if that's what you're concerned about."
"I certainly hope so," she said. Her eyes still transfixed at the wall on the opposite end of the room. "Because thus far, it appears you both are in my room roughly six hours a day."
Her eyes met his, and she noticed now his had narrowed.
"You may think we're smothering you, but we're concerned about you--"
"It is smothering."
"Well, for today, I think you'll have to live with it."
"This is my life."
She could see Archer's chest rise and fall quickly.
"It's difficult to think with you always around."
"Why?" he asked.
"Pardon me?"
Her lips twitched and she refused to look at him.
"Why is it difficult to think with me around?"
The words prickled her skin. She couldn't come up with an adequate answer, and found herself using an excuse she'd heard once from a human child.
"Because."
He nodded and leaned forward.
"T'Pol, you mean something to me … to this crew. You're special. We care about you. I think you deserve more time to yourself to … get through everything. To reflect. Meditate."
"It seems we agree."
He exhaled, his face turning a little red. "But, for right now … just for today … accept our help, damnit."
Opening her mouth, she found a response impossible.
"Okay?" he said. His voice and expression softened, taking on the same quality they had during this whole ordeal.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Trip wince, as if about to see two of the most stubborn crewmen on Enterprise face off.
Settling against her pillow, she reluctantly gave in. "For today." When she noticed Archer's pleased expression, she corrected the comment. "For today and today only."
Archer ducked his head into one hand to rub his temples and nodded. "That's just fine."
"Glad that's settled," Trip said. The man gave an uneasy smile.
Phlox ambled in, smiling his an overextended smile, breaking the tension in the room. "Good afternoon. I see you have roughly forty minutes before--"
Trip shook his head. "Maybe the countdown we came up with wasn't such a good idea."
"Oh?" Phlox asked. "It didn't cheer her up?"
Trip leaned in, hoping to be somewhat discreet and failing. "T'Pol's grumpy."
"Well, it's understandable. She had more visitors than one should normally have and has been cooped up in Sickbay for far too long."
T'Pol raised her brow in satisfaction and then threw a glance to Archer. The captain continued to watch her without comment, and didn't seem to concede her victory.
"Well, she wanted us to take a hike today. Think we should?" Trip asked.
"Absolutely not! She might be ready to be alone, but she can't. It's just not possible at this time. We need to keep an eye on her just a little longer."
Archer's stare turned into a smile.
"I've packed up all your belongings. I think you have everything you need. I'm going to take blood from you once more, and then I think you'll be done."
"Where's Crewman Cutler?" T'Pol inquired.
"Apparently there's a insect exhibit on Denobula she wanted to see. I gave her the day off."
T'Pol blinked her eyes rapidly. "Oh?"
"I thought it would be okay, especially since we break orbit later today. Why, did you need her for something specific?" Phlox asked.
"No."
Phlox headed back to his station to get the device to draw blood.
Archer leaned in a little picking up the PADD he dropped on the floor and then presenting it to her. Although her bones in her wrists were weak, she could grasp things.
"I have a list of movies lined up," Archer said.
"List of movies?" she asked.
"Yeah, I already told Trip and Phlox that I'll take you first."
I'll take you first. She thought she misheard; his voice had the tinny quality of Ral's. For a moment she imagined being in a cave, dark and dank and hearing those words spoken directly into her ear with threat and malice.
"T'Pol?" Archer asked.
Her head cleared and she felt her lips tremble. "What?"
"I have the first shift with you. You okay?"
"Yes. I … I'm fine."
"I asked Chef to bring over some popcorn," Archer replied. "Thought it might be fun while we watch a couple of them."
"I don't want to watch movies. And I don't eat with my hands," she said.
"Oh, you've watched Frankenstein before, and you liked that one," Trip chided.
She flattened her lips. "I identified with the monster. The book was more enjoyable."
Phlox came over and withdrew her blood, as she squirmed a little under his touch.
Archer threw Trip a smile and then turned his attention back to her. "Okay. I could bring over a book if you like. I don't mind a little quiet."
"I want to be alone."
"I thought we covered this," Archer said. The good humor in his voice fading again.
"Then I presume we'll watch a movie," she said. "Even if I don't wish to."
"Cap'n, sounds like you're going to have a full night tonight," Trip said, sarcasm in his voice.
"Night? How long are you staying?" she asked.
"I'm supposed to leave at 0300. Don't worry, I took the time off."
Her eyes widened.
With concern he leaned over to reassure her. "Don't worry, I won't let anything happen. I'll watch you."
"What did you say?"
"I said I'd make sure you were okay."
She shifted a little.
"T'Pol?" Phlox asked. "Something seems to be troubling you," he said.
"Yes, I wish to be alone."
Phlox frowned. "You will be soon enough. I just want to make sure you're settled before we leave you. You'll still be acting mostly self-sufficient. We are just going to ensure you can be. Is that all right?"
"I said it's fine."
He tapped his chin for a moment.
Archer nodded. "Well, I guess that's settled. I'll give you plenty of space, T'Pol. Let's just … whatever you want to do, that's what we'll do."
She sighed loudly, something she had never done before. "Very well. I'm ready to leave when you are."
Trip stared at Archer and then raised his eyebrows. "Yup, have fun."
Archer frowned and then worked with Phlox to assist T'Pol and get her into a wheelchair. As the two picked her up and maneuvered her, she glommed onto the emotion the two carried. Phlox was hopeful; she surmised he was hopeful that the Vulcan's mood would improve. Setting her in the wheelchair, he produced an enormous grin. The captain's feelings were more difficult to ascertain – there was joy, worry and an edge of irritation. There was something else, as there often was when touching him, an emotion she could never quite identify other than: emptiness.
"We'll have to call you Hot Rod from now on," Trip said. His fingers wrapped around her shoulder.
His emotions were always at the ready, easy to ascertain and available. His mood was almost always playful and despite his worry, he wanted to make sure she was entertained. In a way, she understood that he hoped she'd forget her troubles that way. And where once there was love, an emotion she found elusive – difficult to determine – there was the love of friendship. It was warm and comfortable. Which is why when his skin contacted her she couldn't fathom why deep in her stomach she panicked.
Archer leaned over. "T'Pol, can you work the chair?"
Tenderly, she placed her fingers on the wheels and felt excruciating pain as she urged the contraption to move forward. Although she didn't complain, Archer shook his head.
"Maybe I'll take this today," he said, pushing her gently.
Phlox nodded. "I'll take over at 0300, although I hope you're getting your sleep then."
With that, Archer pushed her out the door and down the hall.
Freedom. Smelling the recycled air, rather than the sterile odor of the Sickbay, was marvelous. Seeing a wall other than another biobed made her heart leap and dance. Hearing noises other than the beeping of monitors and the "poor T'Pol's" gave her reassurance.
"Maybe we'll take you once around the block before we head back to your quarters. That okay?"
"Yes," she said. By the slight chuckle he gave, she realized her response was more exuberant than she intended.
"I apologize," she said.
"Why? It's very satisfying."
"What?"
"I said it's nice to see you in good spirits. Are you hearing okay?"
She held her breath. "Yes."
He exhaled deeply, a sign she knew meant he was deep in thought. As the two tooled around Enterprise, he was quiet and so was she. Her wide eyes took in every detail that she'd missed over the past weeks. And it was almost disappointment that overcame her features when they arrived at her door.
"We're home," he said.
Using the security code, he opened her room. And the strangest words slipped out of her mouth. "You know my security code?"
"Yes. I know everyone's." When he'd pushed her into her room, he sat on her bed next to her.
"Does that bother you?"
Tilting her head and then eventually looking away, she disagreed. "No. I know you have entry into everyone's cabin."
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean … maybe I'm wrong, but I get the impression you don't want me anywhere near you. Have I done something to make you mad?"
She licked her lips and stared at the ground next to her.
"You find me threatening?" he finally asked.
Biting her lip, she gave the smallest of nods.
He cleared his voice. "I can see why you wanted Crewman Cutler. Why don't I--"
Her hand reached around his arm before he could stand, though she was uneasy touching him or anyone. Emptiness came over her again.
"I don't understand. You helped to save my life."
"It's okay, T'Pol."
"No."
"Yes it is." Giving a lopsided smile, one filled with something that resembled sadness and mirth at the same time. "It's absolutely okay. You know, part of your recovery is well …."
She breathed deeply. "Perhaps … perhaps you can stay at one end of the room and read. Perhaps that would be okay."
Fishing into the pocket of his slacks, he pulled out a communicator and phaser and then handed it to her. She was barely able to hold them and let them into her lap right away.
"Why don't you hold those for me?"
Nodding, she accepted those terms.
"And, if you need some air, let's find a way to get it for you."
"Okay."
He smiled. "Okay."
Getting off the bed, he headed to pick up a book from her shelf and then headed to the other side of the room with a chair. As she watched him, her stomach felt easier – how she could identify Ral and the captain made no sense. Closing her eyes, she decided to do something: meditate on it.
TBC