An angsty story.

As usual, SitaZ and RoaringMice did wonderful jobs beta reading it. My thanks to both.

A man was standing in a corner of his quarters.

"David…?"

He was tall and lean. Thinner than he remembered. But the pitch black hair and green eyes were unmistakably David's.

"David, is that you? What… what are you doing here?"

David just stood there, motionless and silent. He looked straight into his eyes and his stare stabbed him, even though it held no accusation. Rather, it held a note of sadness that crushed his heart in an ice-cold grip.

Reed's eyes flew open. All he could hear and feel was his furious heartbeat. All he could see was darkness. He reached for the lights and turned them on with a shaky hand. Then searched with his gaze the corner where David had stood – it was empty. Of course. What now, do you expect to see him there, you fool? It was just a dream, he chastised himself.

He fell back on his pillow and focused on bringing his ragged breathing and fast pulse under control. That had been a strange dream indeed. He wasn't one to have very vivid ones, as a rule, nor was he easily frightened, or he wouldn't be an armoury officer on Earth's first warp-five vessel. But this… experience had left him deeply troubled. Pangs of conscience, he mulled bitterly.

He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the watch. Two hours, before his alarm clock was set to go off. He was too agitated to fall asleep again. He just lay there thinking of bygone days.

Reed's day had ended up being even more of a nightmare than his early morning dream. Despite his best efforts, he'd been distracted, and it had affected his performance. He turned a corner on B deck and stopped in front of a door. Looking around to make sure no one was coming he raised a hesitant hand to the bell. It hovered there for a moment. Then he shook his head and brought that same hesitant hand to his tired eyes, as he heaved a deep sigh. His feet may have carried him there – something of an achievement already – but his nature still would not let him go the next step. Yet he found he couldn't go away, so he just stood there like a statue. A moment later the door hissed open and Commander Tucker appeared in the frame.

"Hey, Malcolm. So you did get out of the armoury," Tucker commented cheerfully as he stepped out into the corridor smiling at his friend.

"Yes, well, for the moment," Reed replied without humour.

"Come on, then, or we'll be late," Trip urged.

He took a couple of quick strides, but when he realised Malcolm was not following him stopped and turned to the lieutenant. Reed was looking at him with a blank expression in his blue-grey eyes and a knitted brow.

"Late…?" Reed enquired. "Oh, right. Movie night. I had forgotten," he immediately added, uneasily.

"You think too much of those weapons systems of yours," Trip playfully rebuked him. "How can you forget 'King Kong'? It's a classic!" When Malcolm didn't move, Trip continued, "Come on, let's go. You're gonna like it, lots of action."

"Ah, no, thank you, Trip," Malcolm replied a bit too fast. "I still have a couple of things I want to take care of, and… Just go, don't let me make you miss the beginning," he finished with an undecipherable smirk.

Tucker puzzled over his reply. "Well, why were you outside my quarters, then? Is there somethin' you need?" he asked, taking a step back towards his friend.

"Nothing of any importance," Malcolm answered quietly, avoiding Trip's gaze. "Enjoy your evening, Commander," he said, and turned to go the other way.

"Malcolm!" Trip called to him.

"I'll tell you another time," Reed shouted over his shoulder, without stopping.

Trip stood there for a few seconds, wondering what the hell that was all about. Then he turned and hurried towards the mess hall.

Trip, his eyes on the screen, blindly took a handful of popcorn from the box Archer held out to him.

"Hm, that's a rather oversized primate," Doctor Phlox commented a bit too loud. "I'm not sure that, scientifically speaking…"

"Doctor," T'Pol, interrupted him. "This is a movie and nothing of what we will see tonight is likely to have any scientific base or be at all logical," she reminded him.

Archer and Tucker exchanged an amused glance.

Reed entered the firing range and saw, to his relief, that it was deserted. Not that he had expected otherwise. Most of the crew not on duty would be in the mess hall watching the movie. He couldn't think of anyone on board who would spend his or her free time shooting at a target. You are indeed the only sod, Lieutenant, he mulled.

He set up the target and began his exercise, but his shoulder was too tense and his mind wasn't on it. After thirty seconds he lowered the weapon and looked at his score, grimacing when he realised just how poor it was.

With a grunt of frustration he put the target pistol away and left the room, heading for the nearby armoury.

"Where's Malcolm?" Hoshi whispered to Trip, as she reached for some more popcorn. "I thought he'd enjoy this kind of movie," she added with a grin.

"Yeah, I thought so too, but he said he had somethin' to do," Trip whispered back. "You know him. He's even more of a workaholic than I am."

Hoshi nodded, her eyes and concentration riveted on the screen again, and Trip felt a twinge of remorse. Malcolm had obviously come to him for something. Having things to do was a blatant excuse and they had both known it; but the lieutenant was an expert when it came to slithering away from situations he felt uncomfortable with, and he had not been fast enough to corner him.

"He received a message from Earth this afternoon," Hoshi added, distractedly. "Maybe he wanted to reply to it."

Trip frowned, his attention no longer on the movie. He felt another pang of conscience and decided he'd pass by his friend's quarters after the show.

"Will you two be quiet or do I have to make it an order?" Archer bantered from the other side of Tucker. Trip grinned and focused on the screen again.

Reed entered the armoury and nodded to Ensign Müller, who was on duty. He glanced at his watch. "There is only half an hour left before you're relieved, Ensign. Why don't you leave a little earlier; I'll be in the armoury until Jonas arrives," he offered.

"Thank you, Sir," the ensign replied with a smile.

"Anything to report?" Reed enquired.

"No, Sir."

Reed nodded again and the ensign left. Malcolm went to the phase pistol locker and took out a weapon. Then he went to a desk and began to clean the pistol, working mechanically. He'd done that so many times that he could almost do it without thinking.

The comm. in the mess hall sounded and a moment later a crewman approached the Captain. "Lieutenant Martinez on the bridge wishes to speak to you, Sir."

Archer got up and quickly went to answer the call. "Archer."

"Sir, I have detected a detonation in the armoury," Martinez said in an urgent tone. "I've hailed them but got no answer. Internal scans show that there is a person there, the biosigns corresponding to those of Lieutenant Reed. I've already alerted sickbay and security."

"Thank you Lieutenant, I'll take it from there," Archer replied, frowning in concern. "Phlox!" he then called out. A few heads turned away from the screen as the doctor left his seat. T'Pol and Trip looked at the Captain with questioning eyes and Archer jerked his head, beckoning. They both got up instantly, Trip at a run; T'Pol following with measured haste, something only she could achieve.

"What's goin' on?" Trip asked as soon as the mess hall doors had closed behind them.

"There was a detonation in the armoury. Malcolm's in there, according to internal scans," Archer replied as he hurried along the corridor, followed by the trio.

"What?" Tucker exclaimed, feeling a shiver run down his spine.

"Doctor, sickbay has already been alerted," Archer continued, disregarding Trip's outburst.

They rushed the rest of their way to the armoury in heavy silence. When they got there, a couple of security men stood outside it.

"Report," Archer ordered while Phlox went right through the door without waiting for the answer.

"There was a small explosion, Sir. It appears it was an accident," one of the two answered. "Medics are inside, checking on Lieutenant Reed. Damage to tactical systems still has to be assessed."

Archer marched in, followed by Trip and T'Pol. Smoke still hung in the air and what had once been a cabinet was now a pile of contorted metal. Debris was everywhere.

Reed already lay on a stretcher, unconscious and bloodied, and Phlox was kneeling beside him with his scanner. Tucker ran to his side and paled.

"What the…?" he faltered.

"Doctor…?" Archer questioned tensely, as he took in the worrisome state of his armoury officer.

Phlox rose to his feet. "Let's get him to sickbay," he urged the medics. Then he turned to the Captain. "His injuries are extensive but I can't tell yet how serious they are. He was found under a considerable amount of debris and appears to have banged his head hard against the floor. Now, if you'll excuse me…" And Phlox hurried off after his patient.

"He came to me before the movie," Trip murmured to no one in particular, nervously passing a hand through his hair.

"What did the lieutenant want?" T'Pol enquired.

"I don't really know. He said it wasn't important, but…" Trip's voice died away.

"But?" Archer prompted.

Tucker hesitated a moment. "I got the impression he wanted to talk to me but had forgotten it was movie night and didn't want to spoil my fun. He looked somewhat… upset," the engineer said, regret clear in his voice.

"That may not have anything to do with what happened," Archer suggested.

"Somethin' was on his mind, Capt'n," Trip insisted. He swallowed, afraid to listen to a damn little voice that kept nagging him. In the end he just couldn't keep things inside. "Malcolm is good at his job. The best. He's not likely to cause an explosion accidentally. I mean…" his voice trailed.

Archer narrowed his eyes, not liking what he was hearing. "What exactly do you mean, Commander?"

Tucker looked at the Captain in anguish and murmured, "Maybe he was so upset that he did somethin' wrong."

"You don't mean intentionally," Archer asked gravely after a moment.

Trip pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "Ah, no, I don't believe that for one second," he said, though his voice did not express as much certainty.

"Good," Archer replied firmly. "Because I don't either. This was an accident. We just have to find out what triggered it."

"Aye, Sir," Trip replied in a steadier voice.

"Now stop feeling guilty, Trip," the Captain said.

"The Captain is right, Commander. It is illogical to feel guilty when you do not yet know the cause of these events," T'Pol added, and her calm voice, more than any words, helped Trip control the turmoil that he felt inside.

TBC

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