A/N: Did I come off as pissed in my last A/N? Not my intention. Please allow me to clarify. I am not angry at any of you guys. Y'ins are awesome. Seriously. You have no idea how much it means to me that you all not only read my stories but actually like them, too, and I love that you guys review. Please don't stop reviewing. I am frustrated with myself for my lack of motivation, because I just can't figure out what I'm doing. I'm working on it, I swear. In the meantime, please keep reading, and please keep reviewing. Only, maybe not such long ones. :)

The story has been moving too slowly for my taste. I will try to pick things up a bit and get the story going. As such, please forgive the abruptness of this chapter, how it quickly jumps the way it does.

Also, in an attempt to make myself update more often, the chapters will be shorter. Sorry about that.

Flashbacks are in italics.

Kokame: god damn

'Oe 'iko 'ole: You know nothing.

Chapter Twelve: Into the Forge

It was settled. T'Pol was going to the Forge.

Trip would accompany her.

There had been a long and bitter argument. Both Archer and Soval disagreed with the decision, and though they tried their damnedest to convince their officers to change their minds, there was little either could say to talk the two out of it. T'Pol would do whatever was necessary to find her mother, and Trip was not about to let T'Pol out of his sight. He was not going to let her get away; he was not going to give Koss the opportunity to even plant the suggestion that he wanted her to remain permanently on Vulcan.

In the end, Trip and T'Pol's unbelievable stubbornness had won out. The group – minus Malcolm, Kamea, and Koss, of course – had returned to Enterprise, where Trip and T'Pol were beamed down to the edge of the desert, just outside the Forge.

Trip stared at the massive desert before them. The sun was already beating down on his back, the heat unbearable, even though he'd changed into his desert gear. Both he and T'Pol were equipped with provisions for the journey, but T'Pol warned them that they would most likely run out of both food and water before they reached their destination.

His mind strayed in the one direction in which he did not want it to go – his conversation with Kamea before returning to Enterprise. She and Malcolm had been locked in some kind of mind-meld when he, T'Pol, and Koss got back to the house, but when they came out of it, Kamea had much to say on his decision to accompany T'Pol.

"This is insanity," Kamea said, after she had unceremoniously dragged Trip out into the courtyard. Her hand still gripped his arm – quite painfully – as the others watched from the windows. "You can't seriously be considering this. Have you gone completely insane?"

Trip was confused. Hadn't Kamea been the one encouraging him to talk to T'Pol, get things settled? This excursion to find her mother was the perfect opportunity. They would be alone, with no interference – from Koss, from Kamea. And once they found T'Les, she could convince her daughter of Trip's feelings and intentions. T'Les was a sharp old girl. She had recognized Trip's sacrifice for what it was, all those months ago.

"I thought you wanted me to talk to T'Pol," he said. "Now's my chance."

"Talk to her, yes," Kamea said. She still had a death-grip on his arm. "Work things out. Get rid of some of this anger, this tension, that is driving me insane and preventing me from getting any semblance of rest as long as I'm stuck in that steel can. But you can't seriously expect to be able to accomplish anything out there in the Forge. You'll be lucky if you even survive that kokame desert."

"Steel can?" Trip bristled automatically at her characterization of Enterprise. "You can't say that about my ship."

Kamea let go of his arm, but not without dragging her nails along the sensitive skin of his forearm, leaving matching red welts. "She's married, Trip." She said it without unkindness, but the words stung just the same. "This isn't going to change that."

Trip clenched his jaw so painfully that his teeth hurt. "You wanted me to talk to her."

Kamea's eyes were angry slits, the color a blazing blue that seemed to darken before his very eyes. "Do you want me to admit that I was wrong? Fine. You were right. I was wrong. I bow in humble deference to your wisdom. Is that what you want to hear?"

He laughed in spite of himself. She looked like she was ready to kill him, especially when he said, "Never thought I'd live to hear a Vulcan admit she was wrong."

Kamea bared her teeth in a very unladylike snarl. "You're making a mistake. This will solve nothing. It will only exacerbate the situation." She exhaled loudly through her nose, her nostrils flared in anger. "No good can come of this."

"That's where you're wrong," Trip said, not quite understanding what had Kamea so upset. "This will solve everything. T'Pol will understand just how much I care about her, and – "

"And what?" Kamea asked. "Will going into the Forge with her magically make her not married? It doesn't change a damn thing, Trip, and you're a fool if you think otherwise."

Trip caught her gaze and held it, refusing to even blink for fear it would come off as a sign of weakness. Getting into a verbal sparring match with Kamea was like facing down an angry bull. There was no good way to do it. "I know what I'm doing."

"'Oe 'ike 'ole," Kamea said with a snort. "I hope you enjoy misery, Commander. You are going to be feeling it for a very long time."

She turned to walk back into the house, and Trip had no idea what possessed him to say what he said next. Maybe he was angry that she had called him a fool, insulted his ship, belittled his chances of winning back T'Pol. Whatever the reason, the words that came out of his mouth seemed to tumble off his tongue of their own volition. "You know, Kamea, you're too uptight. Your panties are all in a bunch, and Malcolm obviously isn't up to the task of untangling them."

What happened next happened so fast that it was a blur. In one swift motion, Kamea had rounded on him, closed the small gap between them, reared back, and slapped him across the face. His face stung, and he could tell that the welt blooming on his cheek would be a nasty shade of red. But that was nothing compared to the look in Kamea's overly expressive eyes.

They were fire; twin balls of blue flame that sparked with an intensity Trip had known she possessed but rarely ever seen. But beneath the fire was something very real, very powerful, and very unusual – for Kamea, at least. There was pain. Gut-wrenching pain. Something Trip had said, something in his accusation, had hurt her.

As she turned and ran into the house, he thought he caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. But Vulcans didn't cry.

Trip shook his head to clear the image and did his best to fight down the feelings associated with that memory, but he must have been doing a poor job of it, because T'Pol noticed his inner battle.

"You are concerned with how you left things with Kamea," she said. Trip cursed her perceptiveness. It bugged him.

He sighed and shook his head. "I shouldn't have said that to her. It was uncalled for."

T'Pol ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. "Soval informed me that Kamea initiated a kash-nohv with Lieutenant Reed. A mind-meld," she said, obviously having seen the confusion in his eyes. "They have a way of…bringing emotions to the surface. I believe that, when she confronted you, she was still struggling to get her emotions under control. She may have spoken without pausing to consider what she was saying."

He knew what she was trying to do. She was telling him that Kamea had also said things that she hadn't meant; she was attempting to justify his reaction. "Still doesn't give me the right to say those things to her."

"Indeed. But I am certain that Kamea will understand the circumstances. She is a bright girl."

Trip licked his lips; they were already becoming chapped from the dry desert air. "She said we'd be lucky to survive this place. You think that's true?"

T'Pol met his gaze, her dark eyes sparkling. "Perhaps it is true of you. After all, you and the desert are hardly on good terms."

He let out a great barking laugh, remembering his last disastrous journey across a desert. If not for the captain, he might not have made it through. He'd been pretty out of it by the time Enterprise had managed to find them.

"We'd best be going," T'Pol said, beginning her descent into the Forge. "The longer we linger, the greater chance of being discovered."

Trip followed her down the rocky embankment and into the Forge.

T'Pol knew she should have been concentrating on what she had to do to successfully navigate the Forge, but she could not stop thinking about the last thing Kamea had said to her before she and the others had returned to Enterprise.

T'Pol had watched in stunned amazement as something Trip said made Kamea slap him across the face. It wasn't the light, playful slaps Kamea often gave the commander. She had put all of her strength into it; a blotchy red patch was already blossoming on his cheek. It would be a bruise within a day. T'Pol also watched as Kamea stormed back into the house. Malcolm immediately moved to follow her as Kamea marched past the assembled group on her way down the hall to the bedrooms. T'Pol followed as well, and as she approached her cousin, Kamea turned to face her.

"End this now, cousin," Kamea said. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, and T'Pol was speechless at the depths of emotion in her bottomless blue eyes. The tears, she knew, were not a result of the wind. "End this or I will. That you have let this atrocity continue for as long as it has is unacceptable. As Surak as my witness, this ends now."

Kamea then turned and continued her trek down the hall, Malcolm at her heels. A moment later, the door slammed. The vibrations from the force of the slam shook the windows and rattled the decorations on the wall.

T'Pol could only stare after her cousin, even after Trip entered the house.

She felt the peculiar sensation of guilt gnawing at the back of her stomach. Kamea had called the situation an atrocity, and T'Pol knew that there was some truth to her statement. T'Pol had not only knowingly bonded with Trip, but done so without his knowledge. She had intended to tell him while they were on Vulcan, but when she learned of her mother's disgrace, that marriage to Koss was the only way to save T'Les's career, all her intentions had disappeared. She meant to have the bond severed before the ceremony, but she could not bring herself to break the connection she shared with Commander Tucker. It was selfish of her to cling to the bond, but there was little she could do about it now. She had hoped that it would fade, that the bond she shared with Koss would take precedence in her brain, but apparently her continued close contact with Trip was having the opposite affect. The bond was strengthening, to the point where Trip knew that something was going on. He just did not know what.

He was determined to find out, she knew. He had asked Kamea multiple times. Kamea had simply informed him to ask T'Pol, something which he had not done. Perhaps he knew that T'Pol would never tell him what he so desperately wanted to hear. She knew she should tell him; she owed him that much. But she was ashamed. Her behavior was indefensible.

What would her father think of her, if he knew what she had done? The idea of his disappointment was almost too much to bear. Kamea was right. T'Pol had to end this. She would have to sever the bond that she and Trip shared. It was the right thing to do. It was the logical thing to do.

Trip's voice startled her out of her reverie. "Penny for your thoughts," he said.

She looked over at him. He was panting with the effort of keeping her pace. Distracted, not thinking clearly, she had forgotten that he was not accustomed to the climate as she was. She slowed her pace to a leisurely walk. It would take longer to find her mother with him slowing her down, but she was glad for the company. Also, it would give her the opportunity to put and end to this situation, once and for all. One way or another.

"I was just considering our options," she said, which could not be exactly construed as a lie. "I think it is better to travel during the day. The heat is much more oppressive, but it would be best to take shelter at night. The creatures in the Forge are ones which we most certainly want to avoid."

His eyes widened imperceptibly. "What kind of creatures?"

T'Pol met his gaze. "Hostile ones."

He sighed. "Goody." He looked away briefly, his eyes scanning the horizon, before bringing his attention back to her. "You're sure that's all you were thinking about?"

T'Pol did her best to look confused. "What else would I be thinking about?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, as though trying to determine the truthfulness of her statement. Knowing he could sense her emotions, she forced her mind to remain calm, removed all traces of unease from her brain, and quirked an eyebrow at him. Finally, he shrugged. "All right, then. We'd better get moving again, yeah?"

She nodded. "Yes. We had better."

This time Trip set the pace as they marched deeper into the Forge.

Kamea lay on the bed in the spare bedroom, curled in a fetal position, her eyes aimed at one of the many wall decorations without clearly seeing it. She struggled to fight down the massive surge of guilt she felt at the knowledge that Trip was blindly following T'Pol into the Forge partly based on her suggestion. If either of them were hurt or killed during their search, Kamea would feel eternally responsible, and she was rather sick of having other people's blood on her hands. It didn't come clean as easily as some people liked to think.

T'Pol was the only family she had left – with the exception of Soval, whom Kamea didn't really include. Trip was one of her closest friends. Now it felt as though their fates were in her hands, that she had sent them off to die because she couldn't handle the strain that their lack of a relationship was placing on her psyche. How selfish of her, to think that forcing them to come to a solution to their problem for her benefit would do any good. She was putting her needs, her desires, ahead of what was best for all involved. Perhaps it was causing her undue stress, but ignoring the situation seemed to work for Trip and T'Pol. She should have just let well enough alone, let them make a decision in due time, under natural circumstances.

There was an unpleasant lurch somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. Why did everyone she cared about have to suffer simply because she existed? The universe would be much better off if she were not around. She once again wished that the Andorians had killed her when they had the chance.

She barely heard the door open behind her, her eyes trained on the wall before her, her mind lost in some alternate reality where there was an ocean, a surfboard, and ten-foot waves. She hardly noticed the extra weight shifting the mattress as Malcolm crawled into bed beside her. But she was acutely aware of his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. She heard every word as he whispered in her ear.

"It's all right, Kamea," he said, for once not bothering to speak Hawaiian. "I'm here."

His breath was warm, and it tickled her ear. His touch was hot, and it caused goosebumps to dot her flesh. His presence was calming, and it pissed her off. She didn't deserve to be calm. She deserved to suffer.

But he was lightly stroking her upper arm with his thumb, and she could feel her suffering melting away with every touch.

Her eyes burned with tears, and this time she let them fall. She cried until there were no more tears left to shed, and Malcolm held her to him the entire time. She didn't deserve to be treated so tenderly. She didn't deserve this at all.

Sleep, for once, came as a blessing.