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"There is something about losing your mother that is permanent and inexpressible- a wound that will never quite heal."- Susan Wiggs

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Chapter 6

T'Pol was acting so strange. She wasn't coming back to their quarters most nights, saying that she was working late. When she did come back to their quarters, she meditated all night, as was gone before he was awake again in the morning. It began slowly, with her staying out just a little late, then later, and later, until she barely came back at all. It made Trip feel uneasy. It felt as though she was pullin' away from him again, and he didn't know if he could survive the end of their relationship, again.

"Archer to Commander Tucker."

"Tucker here."

"Commander, are you available to join me and T'Pol in the captain's mess tonight?"

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"Where's T'Pol?" Trip asked, looking around the capn's mess. He stood in the doorway, his eyebrows lifted in worry.

"She's busy with duties." Archer replied, motioning for Trip to sit down. Trip pulled out the chair across from the captain and sat down uneasily. Just cause the capn said T'Pol was busy with ship duties didn't mean she was. It just meant that he didn't what the hell she was doin' either. He unfolded a napkin onto his lap as Archer offered him some Andorian ale. Trip waved it off. "You'll need it, trust me." Archer poured a full glass of the drink before sitting down across from Trip. He clasped his hands in front of him. "Trip, do you remember what T'Pol and I were doing about a year ago this time?"

Trip crinkled his forehead in thought. A lot had happened in a year. Archer and T'Pol went on lots of missions together. Which could he be talking about? Missions and times tended to meld together in the mind of the engineer. Archer stared at him for a long moment. Trip wracked his brains. It was starting to come together… Vulcan, the ambassador, the Kir'shara… T'Pol's mom.

"It's been a year?" he choked out, guilt beginning to sink in. Archer nodded.

"More or less." He took a long swing of his own Andorian ale. "She died in T'Pol's arms you know." Trip nodded absentmindedly. He knew that all too well. When T'Pol slept, her walls in her mind were lower than when she was awake, and he sometimes got glimpses of her holding her mother's lifeless body. She did not cry, but he could feel her anguish.

"Well, I feel like an ass." Trip said, holding his glass tightly. "I thought that she was just pushin' me away, again." He could feel his cheeks warming. "I was startin' to get mad." He lifted the glass to his lips and gulped the drink down. "So yeah, I'm an ass." Archer tilted his head to the side, not disagreeing with Trip's assertion.

"You know that the first anniversary is the worst."

"I'd argue that all the anniversaries are the worst." Trip replied, staring deep into his empty glass. Every anniversary of the attack on Earth caused him to feel like he couldn't take a deep breath. He also slept well most of the time, except for the week leading up the anniversary. He should've seen it.

"Trip, listen to me." Trip looked up, meeting Archer's worried eyes. "I know that you already do this, but please keep a close eye on her. She takes risks when she doesn't want to face her feelings."

"What do you mean? Ya think that she'll risk her life?" Even for T'Pol, that was a little extreme.

"Not on purpose." Archer paused, searching for his next words. "But grief makes people do strange things."

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"Grief makes people do strange things." Those words rattled around Trip's brain as he laid in bed waiting for T'Pol to come back, if she did. He was still grieving Elizabeth and baby Elizabeth. He would always be grieving them; for the rest of his life. They say grief has stages, but no one ever talks about how grief is not linear. It's a circle that feeds itself. Anger feeds denial, acceptance feeds grief. He rolled over and sighed.

Grief made no sense, even to a human. What kind of sense did it make to a Vulcan? She admitted that they felt grief, but didn't know how to deal with it without falling apart. She had no choice but to deal with those emotions now. No wonder she was hiding herself away, and trying to deal with this on her own. He just didn't know how long she had until she fell completely apart.

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She couldn't meditate. She saw her mother's face every time she closed her eyes. She couldn't sleep, she dreamt of holding her mother's lifeless body in her arms. She worked instead of doing either. She could feel herself fraying; her emotions were always on the edge of losing control, and yet she could hear her mother's voice telling her that she was too emotional. It was ironic, considering that hearing her mother's voice in her mind was exactly what her mother would say was being too emotional.

She had not expected her mother's death anniversary to have an effect on her. Vulcans accepted a death and did not dwell on it. Her mother had died a year ago, there was nothing she could now, nor was there any use to dwell on it. And yet; every time she thought of her mother she felt emotions bubble up that she could stamp back down. It was a similar feeling to when she thought of her daughter Elizabeth. Their deaths had an effect on her that she had not experienced before. She rubbed her temples with her fingers; her head was pounding from strain. She knew that Trip was worried about her; she could sense his worry when he glanced at her from across the bridge. And yet, she felt that reaching out for his assistance was an acknowledgement that she was less Vulcan, unable to control herself. She knew that was unlogical; there was no shame in reaching out for assistance from one's mate. Another part of her knew that her people judged her because of her human mate; as did her mother. T'Pol stood, and grasped the back of a chair. Without meditation her emotions were becoming overbearing. Her grief was overwhelming along with her mixed feelings of wanting to reach out for her mate, and feeling shame about her choice of mate. T'Pol sat back down and rubbed her temples again. The one thing she knew how to do was to work, it kept her mind off of what she should not be focusing on. She leaned forward and started clicking.

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It was here that Captain Archer found her, at o eight hundred the next morning. Her eyes were bloodshot green, she hadn't changed her uniform. T'Pol seemed lethargic, a trait that she rarely displayed.

"Are you alright, T'Pol?" He asked. T'Pol looked at him blearily.

"Of course captain." She answered evenly. Her hands were silent on her keypad, but her eyes were hazy.

"I disagree commander. Either you voluntarily head back to your quarters, or I will have Dr. Phlox escort you." T'Pol looked like she was going to argue, but decided against it.

"Goodnight, captain." She said, her tone cold.

"Goodnight." Archer watched her leave. This had gone on long enough. He was going to have to do something.

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"You think she'll go for it?" Trip asked skeptically, his arms crossed.

"She doesn't have a choice." Archer said, seriously. "I know that Vulcans are private people. I don't care about that. But when a crew member's stuff starts effecting this ship, that's when I have to intervene." He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. "You know I hate to do this, hell, I was there when her mother died. But she hasn't taken a break in six years, unless you count going home to get married." Trip cringed. "And you haven't either. You've barely been able to grieve for your sister, let alone your baby, and on top of it, T'Pol lost her mother. It's a miracle she's still standing." Trip chewed his lower lip.

"I should've done somethin'." Archer reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You know she wouldn't have let you." Trip let out a small smile. "So let her captain not give her a choice."

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"I… don't understand." T'Pol said, looking between Trip and the captain. She had been called to the captain's ready room. The captain looked bemused, much to confusion.

"It's fairly simple T'Pol. You are being ordered to Vulcan on shore leave." She raised an eyebrow.

"I do not believe Star Fleet allows captains to order their crew on shore leave captain." Archer raised his hands in front of him.

"This is an order, commander. If you do not go voluntarily, then I will forcibly have you removed from the ship for insubordination."

"The ship needs its first officer." She said calmly. Archer sighed, and sat down across from her, exchanging looks with Trip over her head.

"The ship needs its first officer in top- shape, which I don't believe she is." T'Pol looked at the ground.

"I understand. I will pack." T'Pol stood from her chair slowly. She went to turn when Archer called out,

"There's one more thing." She turned back, her face full of confusion. "Trip has also been ordered on shore leave. I expect both of you back in two weeks."

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There was silence in the shuttle as it approached Vulcan. Trip could feel anger bubbling under the surface from T'Pol. He knew that she felt that he had betrayed her trust, and he wasn't sure that she would ever forgive him for that. But it was worth it. He glanced back at her, she was staring at the wall across from her. She had never processed her loss. He had never thought about it the way the captain had put it, but it was true. He thought he had had it bad, but had never thought about hers. Well, he'd make it right, whether she liked it or not.

"Beginning descent." Trip said. There was no reply, as expected. "Here we go." He murmured.

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The captain had arranged for lodgings for them. Trip pulled on the strap of his bag, pulling it farther on his shoulder. It was a lonely house just outside town. The owners were renting it out to travelers, and were especially open to Star Fleet members. The house was two stories, with a garden in the back. It appeared well kept and well lived in as well. T'Pol was standing behind him, also looking at the house. The captain had suggested that they stay in her mother's home, but Trip thought that that would cause more harm than good. The last time T'Pol had been to her mother's home had been her wedding to Koss. It also had not been up kept since her mother's death, which could be traumatizing for someone who is grieving. Trip knew that T'Pol was thinking about her mother's home as she was glancing at their lodgings.

He was regretting agreeing to go to Vulcan. He should have suggested Risa instead. His lips curled up on the sides. No, maybe that wasn't such a good suggestion either. They were here, they had to make the best out of the situation. He pushed open the door.

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It was strange, looking out at her home world, and feeling like an alien. Trip had fallen asleep hours ago in the main bedroom. She had snuck out of that room just after, and now sat facing the window in the living room. The captain and Trip had thought that coming home would help her death with the death of her mother. It only reminded her of her mother's death. Vulcan had not been her home for some time. Vulcans looked at her with distain. Humans thought her cold. Her mother thought her too emotional, humans not enough.

She stood and walked to the door, pushing it open. The warm Vulcan breeze washed over her. She took a deep breath. The sand smelled the same, the warm breeze felt the same. Yet, she was not the same.

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Trip had heard T'Pol open the door and the leave the house. He felt her walls in her mind drop, and he could feel a sense of turmoil emanating from her. He couldn't take it anymore. He threw the covers off of his feet and put his feet on the ground. He made his way purposefully to the front door and opened it, intent on making T'Pol talk to him. He was surprised to open the door and find her standing there. She seemed frozen, staring at nothing. Trip waved his hand in front of her face, there was no change in her pupils. What the hell? Was she meditating or something while standing up? "T'Pol." He said gently. Nothing. "T'Pol!" He put his hands on her shoulders. Again, nothing. He reached out his hand and grasped hers. Nothing, but he kept staring at her and gently squeezing her hand. After a moment, he felt a gentle squeeze back. T'Pol still looked dazed and confused, and he led her back into the house with her holding his hand behind him. When they were in the living room, he turned to her. "T'Pol, are you okay?" What in the hell? She was staring at the wall behind him. He dropped her hand, and without thinking about it, wrapped her in a hug. She was stiff at first. He gently guided her head to his shoulder and felt her relax in his arms, eventually putting her own arms around him. He petted the back of her head, saying nothing. She didn't need words right now. She just needed his presence right now. He just hoped that she could feel the love from him to her. He didn't know how long they stood there, but eventually, he felt T'Pol begin to lean out of the embrace.

"Thank you." She whispered so low he almost missed it. She looked embarrassed. She wrapped her arms around herself. Trip put his hands on her elbows, but she would not look up.

"T'Pol. Please, let me help you."

"I am not certain how." She replied in that same low tone. Trip had to prevent himself from sighing. He knew what he had signed up for when they decided to move forward together. He couldn't expect her to know how to express her feelings like a human would. But he knew that in Vulcan culture, their mate was their closest confidant. T'Pol just hadn't had to reach out for help before, whether she trusted him or not. He had to pick his words carefully.

"That's okay. Tell me what you need from me." Nothing. Damn, he hadn't said the right words. Then, she looked up.

"Trip… I am Vulcan. I am not meant to be grieving." She shifted her feet. "I do not know what to do." Trip wanted to wrap her back up in a hug, but he knew that she didn't need that right now.

"T'Pol, listen to me." He had no idea what he was going to say, but here he went. "No one knows what to do when they lose someone. You being Vulcan doesn't prevent that from happening. You told me that Vulcans are affected by the loss of friends, let alone family." She held his gaze steadily as he talked. "You're a unique case. You're bonded with a human. That doesn't make you less than. It just makes you unique. You lost your mother and your daughter all within a few months. That would affect anyone, T'Pol." T'Pol took a deep breath that seemed to start at her toes and ended at the top of her head. "It's not shameful to reach out for help from your partner, T'Pol. Just difficult for anyone who's always been independent."

"It is difficult for me to admit I need aid." T'Pol said. Trip chuckled. He knew that well.

"I know. Vulcans feel, and they feel a lot. But you not meditating isn't helping." T'Pol opened her mouth to protest, he pushed forward, "And don't say that you are meditating, because I know you aren't. So first, meditate. Then, sleep. Then, together, we will tackle this grief you are feeling." He let go of her elbows and went to a cabinet. He pulled out a candle and matches. He turned back to her. "In fact, let's do it together, I'm due for meditation too."

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T'Pol awoke to the Vulcan sun streaming through the open window. She did not remember going to bed, and she suspected that Trip had carried her to bed. As she pushed herself up, she realized that her mind was not filled with conflicting emotions for the first time in a week. A void remained where the panic had been. She looked around the room. Trip was not there. In fact, it seemed that he had not been there the night before, the side he would have slept on was not wrinkled, and there were no clothes set out. Perhaps she had pushed him away to far this time. Just then, there was a knock on the door, the door opened slightly, and Trip appeared around the door.

"Good, you're awake." T'Pol pulled the sheets higher up around herself, as though it could shield her from the emotional intimacy they had shared the night before. Trip made his way to the end of the bed, it sinking down gently as he sat. "How are you feelin'?" T'Pol shifted, feeling slightly awkward.

"I am uncertain." She finally answered, looking at her hands clutching the sheets.

"Well, I guess that's better than consumed with grief." Trip offered, smiling lightly. He reached a hand out before retracting it. "Look, I'm sorry if I made ya feel awkward. I didn't mean to."

"There is no need to apologize." Why was Trip apologizing to her? It was not he who had been acting out of turn. It had been her. "I apologize. I allowed my unlogical grief to take us away from our duties."

"No. Nope. You don't get to do that." Trip said, scooting his way farther up the bed. "Grief is never unlogical, human or Vulcan, or whatever species someone is." He paused, searching for his words. "I know how hard it is for you to express your emotions. I don't want to force you to. But I want you to know, that as your mate, I am here. And I won't judge you for anything." T'Pol felt her body fill with affection, an emotion that she had learned was acceptable for a partner to feel about their mate. Her awkwardness faded.

"I believe that there is a human saying that describes my relationship with my mother." She finally said. Trip cocked his head. "We fought like cats and dogs," Trip chuckled, "but she was also my mother who had my best interests at heart." He reached out a hand and clasped her hand over the sheets. "I do not believe that she would have approved of my choice in mate, however." Trip scratched the back of his ear, awkwardly, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Actually…" T'Pol raised her eyebrows. "Right before your wedding…" Trip cringed outwardly, T'Pol cringed inwardly, "your mother confronted me about my feelings for you." This was a surprise, neither Trip nor her mother had ever revealed this interaction. "She encouraged me to tell you all the facts. But I couldn't. Not when you already had so much on your plate." Her mother had encouraged Trip to tell her that he loved her. She had underestimated her mother, again, it seemed. "I think…" He said slowly… "that she would be… at least… gratified that you finished her mission. And even if she didn't agree with our relationship, she would have realized we were bonded, and she would've gotten used to it."

"She did say she was proud of me." T'Pol said. She had forgotten that. How had she forgotten that her mother said that to her?

"You know what?" Trip said, patting her knee, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I have an idea."

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It had been a year since T'Pol had held her mother in her arms as she took her last breath. A year later, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Trip. He had not told her they were going to this spot, but she suspected. He held out a bouquet of Vulcan wildflowers. She did not know where specifically her mother was buried, but she knew where she had died. T'Pol grabbed the flowers from Trip, uncertain what to do next. Vulcans did not visit the graves of their family members. Trip nodded to the spot he saw in her mind of where her mother had died. She took uneven steps towards the spot. She was stamping down emotions of grief as she approached the spot.

She looked at the spot for a moment when she reached it. Then, she leaned down, and placed the flowers. She didn't know what Trip had expected from her visiting this spot. Perhaps some sort of closure. There was never going to be closure. It was a wound that would never quite heal.

However; this journey to Vulcan confirmed her suspicions. Vulcan was no longer her home. It would always be her home world, and its people her people. But Enterprise home. She did not need to visit this spot to remember the lessons her mother had taught her. She was finally at peace. She mumbled a Vulcan prayer, and then turned away from the spot. Trip was waiting for her a few hundred feet away. As she approached him, he said,

"Let's go home." And held out a hand to her. She hesitated before taking it, his fingers grasping hers tightly.