Redemption

Chapter 12

The sky was a marvellous mixture of yellow, orange and red. Rebecca watched the sun setting and then disappearing behind the horizon from their table. Jonathan's choice of restaurant had been perfect: the food was delicious, the wine expensive and the view breathtaking.

They were eating outside on a terrace with a view over the ocean. It was the first evening out since their arrival yesterday. Last night they'd stayed at the villa and ordered in some Chinese food from a local take out place that delivered. Rebecca had offered to cook, but Jonathan wouldn't hear of it, as she'd already made lunch. He reiterated that she hadn't come out here for her to slave over a stove for him.

They'd had a pleasant day together — not doing anything too strenuous and getting orientated in their new surroundings. Jonathan had gone for an early morning swim before breakfast, then they'd driven into town and paid a visit to the local tourist office. They'd picked up a few brochures on places they might visit during their stay. After that they'd paid the local grocery store a visit and stocked up on fruits, cereals, bread and a few other breakfast items which should last them for the next couple of days.

Most of the time Jonathan was quiet. He seemed deep in thought and Rebecca was cautious as to what she asked him. However she was still determined to figure out a way to get him to open up.

She asked the waiter for another bottle of wine. A few glasses and Jonathan just might loosen up, she thought. He'd hardly spoken all evening, and only when she'd prodded him with questions. He seemed lost in another world.

"Beautiful," she said, as she sipped her white wine.

"Pardon?"

"I said it's beautiful. Don't you think so?"

"Oh the view? Yeah it's nice," Jonathan replied. He felt rather full and a little sleepy. Rebecca had ordered for him, and insisted he eat all three courses, including a very rich dessert — blackforest gateau with lashings of extra cream. He was certain she was trying to fatten him up.

"You tired, Jon?" she asked wondering if adjusting to the time change was affecting him. Being a seasoned traveller she didn't find switching time zones much of a problem. And there was only a five hour time difference between Fiji and the west coast of the US, despite having crossed the date line.

"Yeah a little. Probably all this food and the wine."

"And the time change."

"Right."

"You slept well last night though."

"Pretty much." In fact he'd fallen asleep the minute his head had hit the pillow.

The waiter returned with the extra bottle she'd ordered. He filled Rebecca's glass and was about to do the same to Jonathan's when he put his hand over the glass. "No, thanks."

He left the bottle on the table for Rebecca. "You don't want any more wine?" she asked.

"Nope, I've had about three glasses already. Too much and I get a headache."

"Jon, you only get a headache with red wine. This is expensive Chardonnay — why not have another one?"

"Who's gonna drive back to the villa?" he asked.

"I'm still sober."

"At the moment, but you just ordered that bottle."

"I ordered it for you."

"Well I didn't ask for it," he snapped.

"I'll ask to take it with me then," she replied, ignoring his rude response. "No point in wasting a perfectly good bottle of wine."

"Yeah, if you want."

"We can go if you're ready," she suggested.

"Okay, let me just ask for the check." He motioned to the waiter who quickly came over. He returned with the bill a few minutes later and Rebecca took it, charging it to her editor.

"Shouldn't we pay for this ourselves?" Jon asked. It didn't seem right that Rebecca's boss or her paper should be fitting the bill.

"He told me it was to be an all expensive paid vacation — I think that should include going out."

"And what's he gonna say when you return empty handed?"

"Maybe I'll pick up an exclusive on the island — who knows we might have an earthquake or hurricane and I'll be an eyewitness."

"Somehow I don't think that's what your boss had in mind. Let me charge this to my Starfleet account."

"Jon—"

"No, let me do this okay? I don't want to feel guilty about misusing your boss's generosity. It's bad enough that we're here and not paying for the flights or accommodation."

"Okay." She gave in, not wanting to inflict guilt on him. He'd always been such an honest guy.

Hmm…that got her thinking. Guilt — she wondered just how much he was carrying on those broad shoulders of his. He'd saved Earth…but she guessed at some moral cost…and whatever he'd done his conscience was plaguing him now.

They left the restaurant after he paid the bill. Rebecca hopped into the driver's seat, placing the bottle of wine she'd ordered on the back seat. The waiter had agreed to her taking it home.

She glanced sideways at Jonathan as she put the jeep into gear. He was so quiet and contemplative — a shadow of his former self, or at least the Jon Archer she'd once known.

Their journey back took around ten minutes. Rebecca didn't care for the silence so turned the music on. She wasn't gonna force Jon to make small talk -- she'd learnt at dinner that was as difficult as pulling teeth.

She pulled up outside their villa and they both exited. She placed her bottle of wine in the refrigerator and went outside on the balcony to join Jonathan. He was staring out onto the ocean.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"What?" He turned to face her.

"I said penny for your thoughts."

"Got a penny?" he teased, giving her a half-smile.

"Hey, that's more like the Jon Archer I know," she said, giving his arm a gentle punch. "And here I've been thinking you'd forgotten how to smile."

"No…not forgotten."

"You just don't feel like it," she answered, rubbing his arm.

"Guess not." He turned away and continued to stare out onto the ocean.

"It's guilt isn't it?" She was wary of bringing this up, but her theory was that she'd be able to ascertain if she was correct by his reaction.

"What?" His demeanour immediately changed, his face was now one big frown.

"Guilt is an emotion that can eat you up and if you don't somehow deal with it, forgive yourself, make amends and move forward well—"

"Rebecca, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you."

"Then I suggest you drop it now." His tone sounded threatening.

"I'm not scared. Maybe blowing up at me might make you feel better."

"Don't tempt me," he whispered through gritted teeth. She could see the anger bubbling up inside him. She wondered how long he'd kept that volcano at bay.

"Whatever is bugging you, I know you aren't gonna tell me, you'll give me the usual spiel about it being classified and all, but my hunch is that something really bad happened out there. Something you can't forgive yourself for, and the guilt is tearing you apart."

She was good; he'd give her that. Her journalistic instincts were right on the nose. But why couldn't she just let it alone? He'd asked her yesterday politely to not ask him about the Expanse, why couldn't she take no for an answer?

"I'm fine," he reiterated for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Right, and I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"Whatever," he spat out, rolling his eyes. He decided to walk away before he did lose his cool with her. He was in no mood for a confrontation. She followed him to the end of the balcony and grabbed his arm before he had a chance to walk down the steps. "Jon, you can't run away from this. Walking away from me and my questions isn't going to help matters."

"Can't you take NO for an answer?" he shouted. His eyes focused downward on her arm which was holding him. "Remove your arm, please."

"Where are you going?" she asked, releasing him as he'd asked.

"Don't worry, I won't drown myself," he answered, sarcasm dripping off his lips as he walked away from her.

"Oh I know you won't, you're too good of a swimmer," she answered back, hands on her hips.

He turned around and walked back up the steps. "Listen Rebecca, maybe this trip wasn't such a great idea. I'm not good company — in fact I'm the direct opposite. I thought maybe coming out here might help me, but I've got doubts now. I'm on edge, I'm irritable and I can't deal with your questions. So if you are my friend you won't ask them, okay?"

"No." Her answer was adamant.

"What do you mean, no?" Why had he turned around? He should have just carried on walking.

"If I didn't give a damn about you, I might agree. But the thing is I do care about you and Jon, you need help. I've never seen you like this before."

"God, you and T'Pol sound like broken records!"

"If she's been telling you the same kind of things then she's an intuitive, caring friend, like I'm trying to be. Can't you get that through your thick skull?" Now Rebecca's voice was raised.

"I'm going for a walk. I don't have the energy for this conversation."

She let him go and sighed in exasperation.

Half an hour passed and he had no idea how far he had walked. He couldn't see the villa anymore, and he'd reached the more commercial area with the high-rise hotels. He sighed — this trip was not turning out how he'd thought.

He felt depressed. Here he was in paradise with a beautiful woman, eating delicious food, swimming in crystal clear waters, enjoying the glorious warm weather and he was miserable. When they'd gone to the tourist office this morning he'd tried to muster up enthusiasm for Rebecca's sake, but it had all been a show. He wasn't interested in excursions and expeditions.

A vacation wasn't the answer to what ailed him. Not that he was sure what was. Maybe if he knew the Illyrian ship was safe, or had been aided by a good Samaritan he'd feel a lot better. If wouldn't erase what he'd done but at least he'd know they weren't suffering because of something he'd done.

T'Pol had been right — she'd told him spending two weeks out here wasn't going to change anything. Now he agreed with her, but he didn't know what to do about it. When he'd been in the Expanse he'd been too busy to even think about such things. Maybe he needed to give it more time. After all, he'd only arrived yesterday. He shouldn't expect a miraculous change.

When he'd agreed to join Rebecca out here he'd hoped she'd keep him distracted, not ask him a hundred questions. He didn't want to be reminded of the Expanse or what he'd done out there.

Also, he wished he hadn't brought up T'Pol this evening. What was it with women? Did they just have this inherent need to ask questions and get to the bottom of things? It obviously wasn't restricted to human women. Rebecca said she'd keep at him because she was his friend. He acknowledged that both of them meant well, but he couldn't cope with their questions or requests to talk about what troubled him.

And he definitely didn't want to deal with Rebecca's curiosity on the subject of T'Pol. She'd already hinted yesterday that there was more to his relationship with his first officer than met the eye. And boy was she right. Thoughts of T'Pol kept flitting through his brain.

He felt guilty for the way he'd treated and misled her. She probably thought he was involved with Rebecca and that he was some kind of cad for kissing her — and not just once. He felt bad that he hadn't told her the truth about how he felt. She deserved to know, especially since she'd told him several times how much she cared for him.

He also felt like a fool for refusing her. What man in his right mind would refuse T'Pol? And not just because she was stunningly beautiful…but because he loved her mind, how logical she was, and for the care and sympathy she'd shown him.

He recalled how she wouldn't take no for an answer when he'd wanted to go exploring the dark nebula on his own. She insisted on accompanying him and then had somehow got him to open about his feelings for A.G. and the NX-Project. He'd felt so happy at the moment when they'd witnessed the charges lighting up the nebula together.

Right now he wouldn't mind a bout of amnesia — he was tired of his brain reminding him of past events — good and bad. Maybe he could induce a temporary kind. He walked up the steps from the beach to one of the high-rise hotels. Surely there would be a bar inside.

It was 2am and Rebecca was worried. She regretted letting him walk off on his own. Where was he? She remembered during the time they'd been dating if he was particularly upset about something that had gone wrong on the NX-Project he and A.G. would go down to the 602 to drown their sorrows. But she hadn't been excessively worried, knowing he had his friend with him.

Now he was a loose canon, consumed with guilt. Who knew what was going on in his head? Did he feel worthless? She couldn't imagine Starfleet giving him command back of Enterprise in this condition. Did his superiors even realize what bad shape he was in?

She was about to get into the jeep and go looking for him when she heard a noise on the balcony. She went to inspect and found him climbing up the stairs.

"Jon, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I guess it's…late," he hiccuped.

"And you're drunk."

"Your powers of deduction never cease to amaze me."

He stumbled into the villa and plonked himself on the sofa. She followed him inside.

"I'll make some coffee," she stated. "You're gonna be so hungover tomorrow."

"And won't you be happy?"

"Jon!"

"What?"

"I see your intoxication hasn't dulled your sarcasm in any way."

"Guess not. You making that coffee?"

She nodded and went to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a hot mug of coffee. "Here, drink this," she ordered.

He sipped at the steaming liquid. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then Jon started to mumble something. "It's good he's dead…yeah…better this way. He'd be…I'd just be a big disappointment…he…he'd probably disown me."

"Who, Jon?"

"Just wanted to make him proud…that's all. Get his engine built and captain the first ship that carried it. It was his dream, and mine to fulfil it. Yeah…did a great job of that, didn't I?"

"But you did," she interjected, finally understanding he was talking about his father.

"For a while…only for a while. And then it all changed. I wasn't of any use to Starfleet as an explorer. No use. What they needed was a hard-hearted military guy. Casey…yeah General Casey…"

"What about him?"

"Should have sent him. In times of crisis and war men who will do anything at all costs are needed."

He placed the coffee mug on the table, and stood up. He started to pace, as he'd done many times before on the Enterprise Bridge. "It's not in the Starfleet manual, you know."

"What isn't?" she asked.

"No one ever said anything about having to sell your soul. I'd signed up to explore strange new worlds and civilisations. Not even in the small print — nothing about crossing lines."

She said nothing hoping he'd continue speaking his mind. Finally he was opening up!

"They said they were counting on me… me dammit! Forrest stood there outside the airlock on Enterprise and said to me everyone was counting on me. How could I fail? It wasn't an option." He moved over to the table and gulped down the rest of the coffee.

"So I couldn't fail…and success was to be at any cost…any cost." He stopped, as if thinking over what he'd just said.

"Jon?" She hoped he'd carry on.

"He told me and he was right. He was right — mercy is not a quality that will serve you well in the Expanse."

She didn't know who he was talking about, but she gathered Admiral Forrest hadn't said that.

"And I didn't believe it, didn't think I'd have to be faced with those kinds of decisions." He gripped the now empty coffee mug tightly. "I couldn't have been more wrong. What a naïve fool I was."

If only he wasn't being so cryptic. But she guessed he'd been trained well. He wasn't going to divulge Starfleet secrets even if he was inebriated.

He walked to the kitchen and placed the empty mug in the sink. Rebecca followed him. "You're not a fool."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I've changed, Rebecca. The man standing in this kitchen isn't the man you dated all those years ago. This guy he's…he's the opposite of the man you knew once."

"People change. I'm not the same woman you dated either."

"Maybe," he mused. "It was hard in the Expanse, Rebecca. Harder than I could ever have imagined it to be. I shut off my conscience because if I didn't I knew I'd never get the ship or my crew back home, or accomplish my main objective."

"I guessed as much," she said, not wanting to ask for details, but relieved that he was finally talking.

"I decided I'd deal with it all later…I kept my eyes fixed solely on my goal — save Earth — at any cost…I just never realized how my actions would haunt me when I returned home."

He moved back into the living and sat down on the couch. Rebecca sat next to him. "Whatever you did couldn't have been that bad — I mean Starfleet isn't pressing charges are they?"

"You can't judge, you weren't there. Besides, you don't even know what I'm talking about. As for Starfleet…you think they care? They love all the press and attention I've been getting — they have a conquering hero on staff. It makes me sick to my stomach."

He buried his face in his hands. "God, I hate myself."

"Jon…"

For the first time in her life Rebecca felt utterly helpless. She didn't know how to comfort him. Her hand hovered over his back, about to stroke it in comfort, but then she decided against it. "You hungry?" she asked, after several moments of awkward silence.

She heard a muted no escape his lips. She offered to make him another cup of coffee but he refused.

"I guess I should go to bed." He stood up and padded across the room to his bedroom. "Goodnight, Rebecca."

"Night." She watched him shut the door behind him and she sighed heavily.

TBC