Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Star Trek.
A/N: Trip's dreams change soon after entering the Expanse.
July 8, 2153
It was late at night and Trip could be found sprawled over his bed, tossing lightly as he slept under the glow of the Expanse-altered space and the ever-present blue that characterized the ship. Unbeknownst to anybody, Trip's dreams began to take shape and his subconscious, enjoying the memories they usually brought, accepted them for the shallow peace that they offered.
It was July fifth, a hot summer day perfect for spending at the beach. Trip and Lizzy were with their parents enjoying a day at the beach relaxing and playing. Trip was thirteen and enjoying a quiet walk on the beach while Lizzy had wandered off out into the ocean exploring as she always did.
As Trip walked along the beach, the soft sound of laughter, the smell of grilled hot dogs and the feel of sand at his feet consumed all his senses. It was really a nice day he thought…
And then there it was. A woman screaming something, about a girl, in the water. Trip turned his gaze to where she was pointing and put his hand over his eyes to block the glare from the sun. What he saw stopped his breath, his heart. It was Lizzie. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
The next moments were a blur. He knew he ran, faster than he thought possible, into the water swimming to her body. Without thought or planning, he grabbed her and swam back to the shore and looked over her. She began coughing just as the lifeguard arrived. It was all a blur, as if the memory were viewed through a foggy glass and pieces were missing…
The next three days she recovered in the hospital, letting the damage to her lungs and trachea heal. Slowly pieces of the story began coming together. The most important for Trip: had she stayed in the water any longer, she would have most likely died. Trip couldn't believe that he'd let her down, let her get that close to danger, to trouble. But he wouldn't fail her, never again. This time had been too close.
As if realizing that something was wrong, his body shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his brows knitting together and small moan of despair escaping his lips. His subconscious was racing. This memory was different. It wasn't pleasant. It was unnerving. Troubling. Different. The previous two months hadn't been like this. Yes the dreams had robbed him of his sleep, but there was a different quality to them. Not like this…not so…his subconscious couldn't place it. And before he could wake, the scene shifted.
Trip was ten, maybe, but his mind couldn't tell. This wasn't a memory. He knew the place all right; it was the local shopping complex that had a beautiful courtyard where Lizzy and he would hang out with their other older siblings. But the courtyard was empty. Strange…it was always bustling energy and activity.
He walked on a little, hearing the sound of the fountains in the background. Moving around a tree he saw a young Lizzy sitting at an umbrella shaded table, and as if sensing his arrival, turned and waved to him. Something was wrong, very wrong. Without knowing why he quickened his pace and no matter what he did, he couldn't get closer to Lizzie as if some imaginary force were blocking his path. Out of instinct, he yelled "Lizzie!"
Trip was beginning to constantly moan as if in pain, writhing under his sheets, drops of perspiration lining his forehead. What was happening? His dreams had never been like this. And then once again the scene changed.
It was July eighth, the day Lizzie was released from the hospital and allowed back home. It also happened to be her seventh birthday. The memory wasn't from his point of view though, it was as if he were an observer. He was standing in front of a door, Lizzie's door, a sliver of yellow warmth slicing through the floor calling for him to enter. And so he did, pushing open the door to enter the magical world that was Lizzie's room.
There was some sort of mist in the air, as if the room were stuffy, not in a dirty sense, but more in the sense of time old tradition and sensibility. The room was bathed in golden light from the sole window illuminating the casts of stuffed animals and other assorted toys. It was in the center of the room that he found the action though.
Lizzie was gathered on the floor by her doll house, moving about pieces and people in an elaborate master plan that only she knew the full, in fact, any details too. Today it was about the life of an actress and her pet cat Snuffles, and Trip, luckily enough, was Snuffles. As he watched the scene, he could see his younger self's attention drifting but not for long.
"TRIP! Snuffles goes here," she said, grabbing his hand and correcting his erring ways.
His younger self didn't say anything, just simply complied. He remembered this and how he would never agree to play with his sister and her dolls. He was a guy after all! And thirteen! To think if his friends found out… But then her voice, it was still raspy and it cut through any defenses he had. Her spirit was back but her body hadn't healed. It was her birthday after all, and if it would make her happy, he could be Snuffles for a few hours.
As she continued on with her imaginary script, Trip saw his younger self look at her and smile, and he himself turned his gaze towards her. He hadn't realized before how much he loved her, cared about her. And to think he almost lost her. He'd never lose her, never. A small smile tugged at his lips, hell, he'd be Snuffles for the rest of his life if he had too…
Though the dream was more like what Trip's subconscious was accustomed to, it realized that this wasn't right. The dream had a purpose. But what? His body was now glistening with perspiration and the sheet had slid down his chest and was clinging to his stomach. But Trip didn't realize any of this. He just turned over and was on his back, his face etched in confusion and worry as his eyes darted frantically under his eyelids.
He was back in the courtyard. Except he was the person he knew himself to be. The current self. And there was Lizzy, her golden hair flowing beautifully in the air, waving at Trip as if calling him over. But he couldn't move. He was frozen in place as a dreadful feeling encased his soul and stole his breath.
He looked off into the distance and saw the beam rip through the landscape, shredding his hometown with its incinerating heat. And it was getting close, so close…
"Lizzy! You have to get out of there! Lizzy!" he screamed but he knew it was futile. Nothing was going to change. Nothing. His body numb, he watched as the beam engulfed his sister and with a flash of light…
Trip shot up gasping, sweat dripping down his face, his chest rising up and down as if he had just ran a marathon. He didn't understand it, why now, why after entering the Expanse? He had learned to deal with his memories, his dreams. He had learned, with help, how to get sleep, to be at peace. But it was now forever shattered. He, however, realized why. Today was her birthday. Would have been her birthday.
As his eyes drifted across his room, they came to settle upon the picture he kept at his desk. All of a sudden a hidden grief grabbed his soul, ambushing his heart with old memories. His lips trembled and his mind was swept away in all that he had lost. It was like a rush of pain, the loss of his sister, the rejection of his family, the blame, the failure. For the first time in his life he was lost, alone. As his eyes never wavered from his sister's picture, he knew what he was looking at. He was looking at his Lizzy, his baby sister Lizzy, his playful Lizzy, his beautiful Lizzy, his dead Lizzy, and he couldn't look anymore.
He put his head in his hands and covered his face as his grief took control. Sobbing he chanted, "O god Lizzy, I'm so sorry. So sorry. I can't say, I can't say, I can't" in the voice of denial that to each of us is like a stranger who is yet to become family.
It wasn't that he couldn't. It was that he didn't want to. It would require him to admit his failure, his loss, the absence of his Lizzy. But as the sobs took over and only the sound of tears echoed through the cabin, a small whisper expanded and hung over him. He didn't even realize that it was he who had spoken but he had said it anyhow.
After all, it is what everyone must come to say. "I miss you so much."
