Title: Killing Thing

Author: Sita Z

Genre: Angst/Drama

Rating: PG 13

AN: Thank you for your reviews!

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Chapter 17

"Who are you?" Trip asked.

The fox tilted his head. I guess "fox" is as good a name as any... and I like the sound of it. I might even add it to my Own Names.

"You have more than one name?" Malcolm wanted to know. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason he wasn't scared of hearing the voice speak inside his head. He couldn't have explained why, but somehow he knew that this being was not going to hurt them... in fact, he had a distinct feeling that if the fox wanted to hurt them, he could have done it a long time ago.

Oh, many of them. Some of them I like more, some I use only when the necessity arises. A Vulcan child once called me a sehlat, and I think I liked that one best of all. Sehlats are wonderful creatures, did you know that? They're fierce and protective when they need to be, but at the same time their fur is softer than a silk blanket, and they're the best sleeping companions a child could wish for.

"Wait a minute." Trip held up a hand. "I'm sorry, but I still don't quite understand who you are."

The fox smiled again. Oh, but I think you do.

"They can change the nature of matter." Malcolm didn't have to look at Trip to know that they had both come to the same conclusion.

"You're a Mayiari," he said slowly, saying aloud what he had read in both their minds. "You're shape shifters."

In a way, I guess we are. The fox "sounded" thoughtful... although Malcolm was still struggling to understand exactly how a thought could express any emotions at all. Shape shifters... yes, we shift shapes, although not only our own. But it is a good term for what we do, so yes.

Trip moistened his lips. "How... how come we can suddenly, well..." He waved a hand between himself and Malcolm, and Malcolm heard him finishing the thought in his head, feeling the touch of unease that accompanied it as if it were his own: "How come we can suddenly read each other's minds?"

It's the khansara, the fox answered. Your friend T'Pol told you about it. The bonding of minds.

"But..." Malcolm shook his head. This was getting more and more surreal by the minute. He had never quite believed that it was possible to "sense" someone else's thoughts, and the discovery that this was actually happening, that he was hearing Trip's voice inside his head, left him struggling for words. "We thought it was some kind of... ritual? We haven't even found your family yet, and..."

Oh, but you have found us. Now, he sounded amused. And as for the ritual, as you call it, it started the moment you set foot on this world. In fact, I was pleased to see how well you were doing. It's why I came to speak to you earlier than I had planned.

"So you've been watchin' us all the time?" Trip frowned. "But... why couldn't you talk to us? And why didn't we notice this telepathy thing before?"

The fox seemed to have expected these questions. I couldn't talk to you because I had to find out what you wanted. Everybody who comes to visit us has a reason for doing so, and it was important that I knew yours. As for the telepathy... the khansara is not something that happens in a matter of minutes. Sometimes it takes weeks, months even, until there is communication. But it seems that you were ready to listen for your mind-voices. And now you can hear each other.

He said the last part as if he had just given them a wonderful present, and Malcolm sensed the genuine pleasure in his thoughts. For some reason he was surprised; secretly, he had been more than a little scared of this, of having to participate in a weird bonding ritual that involved telepathy, and he knew that Trip had been scared as well. To hear that it had already begun made it easier in a way. And hearing Trip's voice in his head... well, it could have been worse.

Charmin' as always, Mal.

Malcolm shot his partner a mock glare, knowing that this last piece of thought had not come from the fox. Trip was grinning, and Malcolm felt a sudden, inexplicable relief. This was not much different from talking; not really. Well, you didn't move your lips, and there was this strange feeling of another presence, another thinking, feeling mind close to yours. Other than that, however, it was not as he had it expected it to be. No "probing" in the darkest corners of his mind, no invasive voices telling him to do things. There was only Trip, whose "mind-voice" was not in any way different from his normal one, and a small, smiling fox... and Malcolm instinctively knew that they would only see and hear what he wanted them to see and hear.

If this is telepathy, he found himself thinking, I don't know why the Vulcans make such a secret out of it. It's not that big a thing, is it?

It can be, the fox answered seriously. We are only scratching at the very surface of what it can be... what it can do. But, he added, sensing the unease rising in their minds, in the khansara, communication is taken to a level that both parties feel comfortable with, and not a step further. And I believe we have reached that level, at least for now.

Both of them nodded, and the fox smiled his strange smile. I thought so.

"So..." Trip hesitated for a moment before he continued. "You said this khansara started when we set foot on the planet. Does that mean you're willin' to... to help me?"

Although nothing changed about the small creature sitting in front of them, Malcolm sensed that the fox had become very serious. Trip seemed to have noticed as well, and tried to backtrack. "Sorry if I offended you, it's just that..."

You didn't offend me. The fox offered him a telepathic smile of reassurance, and Trip relaxed. It takes a lot more to do that, I assure you. And yes, I - we - are willing to help you. But the khansara is not finished, he answered the next question before Trip had a chance to ask it. The bonding of your minds is not complete yet.

Trip glanced at Malcolm, who could see - and feel - his partner's unease. "But we can hear each other, can't we? And you said it wasn't gonna go any further if we didn't want it."

Yes, the fox answered. This is how it will be for you, if that is what you want. But the khansara is about more than simply talking to each other with your mind-voices. I need to know that you are ready before I can help you.

"Ready for what?" Trip wanted to know.

The fox gave him a long look, and Malcolm sensed a trace of sadness in his next words. You've been hurt, he said. You've been hurt and there's poison in your mind.

Trip averted his eyes at that. For the first time since he could heard Trip's voice in his mind, Malcolm could feel his partner deliberately pulling away, a feeling as if Trip had drawn a curtain in front of his thoughts. Before the curtain was completely closed, however, Malcolm got a glimpse of a hurt like an open sore in Trip's mind. A sore that had still not healed, no matter how well Trip had learned to live with it.

"What do you want us to do?" Malcolm asked quietly, eyeing the fox who had turned his head to look at him. "We came here so you could help Trip get better. I'm sure you know about the seizures he's been having. They're getting worse. If you're going to help us, you'll need to do it soon."

We don't have time for silly mind-games, his mind added before he could stop it, and of course the fox heard him. Sorry, Malcolm added quickly. I'm just...

You're worried, the fox said. I understand. And I know about the chemical that causes your suffering, Trip. But that is not the poison I was talking about.

"I know," Trip said softly. He was still not looking at either of them.

Yes, you do. And it is this other poison that we have to deal with first. I cannot make it go away - only you yourself can do that - but before I help you, I have to know that the poison is not stronger than the two of you.

"I don't understand," Malcolm began, although at the same time he realized that he did understand. T'Pol had told them that the Mayiari only helped people who were supported by a stable mental bond. Obviously, they also wanted hard evidence to prove it.

The fox smiled. Exactly. It is - how was that word I saw in your mind? - a challenge. Not because we're unwilling to help you, but because we need proof.

"What do you want me to do?" Trip asked. He looked back at the fox, sounding tired as he continued. "I can't just make it all go away. I tried that once before, and believe me, it didn't work at all."

Malcolm was surprised; Trip had never spoken that openly about his feelings - or the suicide attempt, for that matter. The fox calmly met his eyes.

I know. And I wouldn't ask it from you.

"But then what do you want us to do?" Malcolm couldn't quite keep the frustration from his tone, growing even more irritated when the fox suddenly smiled at him.

Take a walk, he said. For now, all I'd like you to do is take a walk. Oh, and I wanted to thank you, Malcolm.

Malcolm frowned. "What for?"

For not eating the berries because you thought they belonged to me. That was a very thoughtful thing to do.

There were a thousand things Malcolm wanted to say to the fox - ask where the sudden non-sequitur about the berries had come from, how taking a walk was supposed to help them, and, most of all, if he would terribly mind stop speaking in bloody riddles - but he never got the chance. As suddenly as he had done on the previous evening, the fox disappeared, giving the impression as if he had simply vanished into thin air. More likely than not he did vanish, Malcolm thought, torn between fascination and annoyance.

Something like a dry chuckle echoed in his mind. Malcolm looked up and found that the corners of Trip's mouth were twitching.

"What?" he asked, trying to get used to the feeling of sensing the other man's amusement in his own thoughts.

Trip shook his head. "Nothin' really. I'm still tryin' to wrap my mind around the fact that all of this - " he gestured at the camp site - "is really happenin'."

Maybe this is what goin' crazy feels like, his thoughts added, and Malcolm felt the amusement disappear. Maybe you just sit there and watch it happen, still wonderin' if you're awake or dreamin' when they're draggin' you off to the mental ward.

"I don't think so," Malcolm replied, involuntarily speaking aloud as if to place more emphasis on the words. "All of this feels real enough to me." And I can hear you, Trip, he added in thoughts. I can feel you there, in my mind. How can I be hallucinating when I know that you're seeing and hearing the same things as I do?

Another chuckle stole into his thoughts. Logical, as T'Pol would say. Totally crazy, but still logical.

Malcolm smiled. Trip was right, this was crazy, at least by the standards of their normal every-day lives. In the "real" world, animals didn't talk, they certainly didn't communicate telepathically, and no one - except for the Vulcans, maybe - knew what it felt like to sense another presence in your mind. If any of these things had happened to him back on Enterprise, he would have gone to see Dr. Phlox (or maybe reminded himself not to pull so many all-nighters and get some much-needed sleep). Here, however, in a world where things like EPS conduits and targeting scanners seemed as out of place as their campfire would have looked on Enterprise's bridge, Malcolm found himself strangely at ease with the idea of talking to foxes and hearing his partner's voice in his head.

After all, isn't this what people do in fairy tales? Going to haunted places, speaking to animals that give them mysterious advice...

Again, the - sound? sensation? - of Trip's amusement drifted through his mind. More like a ghost story, Mal.

Well, whatever. Malcolm smiled, speaking his next words aloud. "Would you like to go for a walk, Trip?"

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The light morning breeze had died away when they left the campsite, leaving only warm sunshine in its wake. As Trip had pointed out, it would have been comfortable enough without their uniforms, but Malcolm had refused to stroll across the grassland in his shorts and undershirt, even though there was no one around but his partner to see him.

"Once was enough," he had said and Trip had smiled, sharing Malcolm's mental image of the two of them back on Risa, heading back to the shuttle in their Starfleet blues. "And I'd rather avoid stepping barefoot on a poisonous snake, thank you very much."

Trip had rolled his eyes at that. "There's no poisonous snakes around, Mal, not if... Well, I'm sure we'd be just fine."

Malcolm didn't need to ask what Trip had been about to say; he had heard it clearly enough in his mind. "Not if we don't want them to be." The disturbing thing was that he understood very well what Trip was talking about; deep down, he knew that they would not encounter any hostile wildlife on their walk, unless... well, unless they wanted to. There was something about the way the grove of birch trees had appeared when they had been too tired to go on much further, about the slight pineapple flavor that had lingered in his mouth after drinking the water from the spring, that made it difficult for him to ignore these things, or dismiss them as mere coincidences.

All the same, he had insisted that they wear their uniforms and take one of the back packs with them so they wouldn't have to carry the medkit by hand. Trip had said nothing when Malcolm had done a quick inventory of their supply of hyposprays, but Malcolm hadn't missed the unhappy look in his partner's eyes. It was easy to ignore the problem when it didn't draw attention to itself, easy to pretend that the seizure of the night before had never happened, and Malcolm knew that Trip would have liked to do just that. He also knew, however, that they could not afford to do so.

Now, as they walked through the grass with the sun warming their backs, the moment of tension had disappeared, and Malcolm smiled when he felt a hand reaching for his own. Trip's fingers were warm and dry, his thoughts a peaceful murmur, and for the first time, Malcolm found himself actually enjoying the presence of another mind close to his. It was like a hand resting on his arm or shoulder, a constant and unobtrusive reassurance that he was not alone... in more ways than one.

As if to emphasize the thought, he tightened his fingers around Trip's, which earned him a lopsided smile. Actually, neither of them was really one for holding hands - "it's more a girl thing", Trip might have put it - and since back on Enterprise public displays of affection were out anyway, it wasn't often that they went anywhere hand in hand. Malcolm smiled. So maybe he wouldn't usually do this, and maybe Trip's callused paws weren't ideal for your usual romantic hand-holding stroll (nor were his own, for that matter), but right now he found that he didn't care.

Malcolm was startled out of his thoughts when Trip suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Look at this, Mal!" The engineer pointed at something a few meter ahead of them, a pile of mossy rocks that Malcolm could have sworn hadn't been there a minute ago.

"What do you suppose this is?" he asked. Trip shook his head.

"Dunno. Maybe it's another spring."

As they came closer, Malcolm saw that Trip was right; there was water coming out from under the largest rock, a small cascade that had dug a shallow pool into the ground. The pool, no more than two meters in diameter, was surrounded by long, thin stalks that reminded him of reeds. He wasn't really surprised to see that there was no discernible difference between these plants and those he had seen back on Earth; after all, you expected to find reeds along the edges of ponds, so of course they would be there. T'Pol might not have agreed with his logic, but Malcolm had discovered that in this place, the things you expected to see and the things you actually saw often turned out to be the same.

Leading away from the pool, almost hidden between the bluish-green stalks, was a small brook that seemed to grow wider in the distance.

How come we didn't see this before? Trip's voice broke into his contemplations. Malcolm turned his head to see Trip eyeing the brook with a frown. We're barely 500 meters away from our campsite; we would've noticed if...

...if this had been here before, Malcolm finished Trip's thought in his own head.

"This is the direction we came from the day before," he continued aloud. "There was no brook there yesterday."

Trip's eyes were still tracing the creek that led further into the grassland, disappearing between the shallow hills about a mile away. "Maybe he wanted us to find it," he said quietly. Malcolm didn't have to ask who Trip was referring to.

"Do you think he wants to show us something?" he asked.

Trip shrugged. "Only one way to find out, is there?"

Malcolm glanced at the hills in the distance. "Trip, I'm not sure if-"

Look, I know I'm supposed to take it easy. And I'm not gonna pull any more stunts like... like yesterday. If I'm tired, I'll let you know. Promise. It's just that... I think this is important.

Malcolm sighed; telepathy or no, he knew he couldn't refuse Trip anything when he was getting that sad puppy-dog look. Unfortunately, Trip caught his thought and began to grin, obviously pleased with himself.

And don't I know it.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. Don't think I don't know you've been practicing with Porthos.

Trip's grin grew broader, reminding Malcolm suspiciously of one Denobulan doctor. Hey, I learned from the best.

Despite himself, Malcolm laughed. "Get out of my head, Yank, or you're going to regret it."

"Are ya threatenin' me, Loo-tenant?"

Malcolm smirked, trying to sound dangerous. "I might be."

Trip, of course, had seen far more menacing variations of that smirk and only grinned in response. "Well, it jus' so happens that I like it in your head. Whatcha gonna do 'bout it?"

You should know better than to challenge me, dear.

Two seconds later, Trip found himself flat on his back with his arms pinned on either side of his head and a very smug-looking armory officer straddling his waist.

"Remind me never to ask ya such a stupid thing again, okay?"

Malcolm grinned, not letting go of Trip's wrists. "With pleasure, love. Now what to do about you..."

An image entered his mind, and he saw Trip's eyes widen.

"Not the ticklin' thing again, Mal, that's not fair!"

For a moment, Malcolm was sorely tempted to do the "tickling thing" until Trip did the trickling thing (Trip had admitted that, as a kid, it had actually happened to him once, to his never-ending embarrassment), but then he decided to have mercy on his partner. Letting go of Trip's wrists, he laced his fingers into the blond hair instead and leaned forward until their lips were touching.

"Now, would I ever do such a thing to you?" he murmured against Trip's mouth. Trip's now free hands crept around his waist, pulling him closer so that he was all but lying on top of the other man.

"Yes you would."

Trip's lips brushed against his own and Malcolm leaned into the kiss, pleasure warming him from the inside as Trip parted his mouth to meet him. When they broke apart again, they were both breathing heavily, and for a second, a very brief second, Malcolm hesitated. Then he carefully rolled off of his partner, snuggling close to Trip to show him that it was okay.

"Mal...," Trip began, but Malcolm silenced him with a quick kiss.

"Shh. It's alright, love."

He knew that part of Trip wanted it as much as he did, but the short flare of panic he had sensed in his partner's mind was enough to convince Malcolm that this was not the time or place. There were things they needed to do first; places they had to go.

He became aware of Trip's feelings that were whirling through the other man's mind like a rainstorm; love and affection for his partner, a desire to continue with what they had begun, a touch of frustration and anger at his own inability to overcome his fears.

I'm sorry, Mal. I...

I love you, Trip. Malcolm looked his partner in the eyes and smiled. It's okay.

Hesitantly, Trip smiled in response. Love ya, too.

I know.

For a while, they stayed where they were, lying next to each other in the grass and listening to the soft background murmur of the brook. Once again, Malcolm became aware of the ever-present silence of this place, a silence that was only interrupted by the chirping of the crickets and their own voices... if they chose to speak aloud. He smiled. It was strange how quickly he had gotten used to this rather unconventional way of communicating.

After a while, Trip stirred again and Malcolm turned his head to see his partner looking at him.

"You alright?"

Trip nodded. "Yeah. And as much as I'd love to stay here..." He smiled, both with his eyes and with his mind. "I think we've got somewhere to go."

Malcolm smiled and propped himself up on his elbow, plucking a wayward blade of grass out of Trip's hair.

Well, then... what are we waiting for?

TBC...

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