Three Days Too Die

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A/N: Hi! Here's another chapter :)

Pain. All he felt was pain. And loss. A loss so painful his heart couldn't bear it. He needed an outlet. Somewhere to send these overwhelming, all-consuming emotions.

Slowly opening his eyes, Trip found himself in a white space. He'd been here before, hadn't he? Something about the space was familiar. Warm. Looking around, he suddenly felt a chill so deep it was as if it pierced straight through his heart and left in it's wake a bone-cold empty feeling.

Looking closer at the white around him, he began to notice that veins of gray were streaking through. As the cold feeling grew, the white space became darker. Something sinister was here. Something that wasn't supposed to be here.

"T'Pol?" He called out questioningly, taking a step forward even though he didn't actually see anywhere to go. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why her name was on his lips but something about it felt right.

As he waited for an answer to his call, the darkness consumed more of the white space. It was creeping towards him and something in him told him that the last thing he wanted to do was to go anywhere near that unholy darkness.

The more he stared into its depths; memories began to surface. At first, they were just feelings, then they became images. He could feel his heart pounding, the sweat on his brow. The burden in his arms that he was determined to protect at all costs.

Then there was an overwhelming sense of helplessness. They weren't going to make it. Faint flashes of weightlessness and a terrible itch flashed through his mind before almost instantaneously being replaced by the image of a room. And a body. Grief flooded his system. The power of this memory drove him to his knees. Reaching out a hand, he steadied himself.

The pain in his head began to intensify. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing until it once again became bearable. Déjà vu struck him; the memory of weightlessness returned.

His remembered resting his head against the cool metal of the wall in his quarters on Enterprise, the Captain grunting as he struggled with something, T'Pol murmuring to him. T'Pol's breathing techniques were no match for whatever he was up against.

The pain in his head consumed his every thought.

"T-t'pol? H-help." He managed to utter. His breath hitching as he felt the darkness encircle his form.

Opening her eyes, T'Pol found herself standing in a small space of white surrounded by darkness.

Peering as far as she could see, she could just barely make out another spot of white. Moving with great effort, she forced her mind to lessen the space between herself and what she knew to be Trip's mind.

The darkness reacted and recoiled. It was as if it was a living thing, attempting to consume everything in its path.

Fortifying her mind, T'Pol slowly made progress. She could feel her connection to Trip strengthening.

The form of Trip's mental representation slowly came within reach, but the darkness was pushing back against T'Pol's mental barricades. With a strength that surprised even her, she gave a mental push that physically shook this mental world and caused the darkness to recoil violently.

"Trip?" She asked tentatively, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, needing some sort of physical connection to reassure her that he wasn't just a figment of her imagination. That there connection was maintained by both of their minds.

His form solidified under her touch. Carefully, she lowered herself and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Commander Tucker?" She asked, grabbing his face. His features screamed of exhaustion, his eyes fluttering. She could tell by the crease in his forehead that he was in pain.

But he was here. Their minds were connected. She could feel the darkness creeping back in, but her connection with Trip was stronger this time.

Slowly, he managed to open his eyes. Raw, uncontrolled emotion ripped through T'Pol's heart, something she had never felt before. Since childhood she had been trained to keep all emotions within the confines of Vulcan control.

To trust logic over emotion. To put science and facts above all else. To better oneself through knowledge. Her training to not trust her emotions, despite their strength, was at war with the strength of this emotion.

His blue eyes pierced deep into her soul and she felt a rush as their mental connection blossomed beyond anything she could have imagined. She felt everything he did.

His heartache, his confusion, his hopelessness. It was so overwhelming that only her contact with his shoulder kept her from losing their bond and passing out where she sat in her quarters.

Breathing carefully, she again spoke his name.

He blinked before finally responding, "T'Pol, w-where are w-we?"

"We are again in my mental haven. This is where I go when I meditate."

"Woah." Was all he managed to get out as he released a pain-filled sigh and leaned into T'Pol's touch.

"You've been sick, Trip." T'Pol said, her voice shaking slightly. Their bond was again being attacked by the growing darkness and the continual contact was straining since the burden of maintaining it was strictly on her shoulders.

A part of T'Pol wondered if their bond would be more easily managed if both parties were fully healthy. A secret part of her looked forward to finding out one day, should they manage to make it out of this with their faculties intact.

"Do you remember what happened?" She asked, hoping to assist in sorting out his memories and shake the influence that the darkness seemed to have through confusion.

"W-we were on the p-planet. I m-made them m-mad." He gave her a truly apologetic look, and T'Pol's heart lost more of itself to this man.

"I r-remember run-ning, b-but they got us." Groaning, Trip grabbed his head, his mind went fuzzy. It felt as if something foreign was forcing its way past his memories and distorting everything it touched.

"Breathe." T'Pol whispered, laying her forehead against his own.

Taking a deep breath, Trip continued, feeling an urgency to remember.

"W-we were captured.. no, w-we made it back to the ship… I-I w-was in my q-quarters?" He stated, uncertainty flooding his voice.

"What else do you remember?"

"I-it's hazy, I w-woke up in a c-cell. The Capt'n w-was th-ere." Trip's voice broke.

"He's d-de… h-he…" Trip couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't reconcile what he had seen when his very being rebelled at even the faintest thought.

"The Captain is alive." T'Pol responded. Trip desperately wanted to believe what she was saying, she said it with such conviction, but he'd witnessed it. Hadn't he?

The pain was back. His mind swelling with pressure, images invading. Something felt wrong, but he was powerless to stop the onslaught.

"Trip?!" He heard T'Pol's voice ring, distress making her voice quake. But the pain was too much. He felt himself slipping from this haven. A different kind of pain broke through, his heart ached with more than just the loss of his best friend, as T'Pol's image flashed briefly before his eyes he faintly realized that his heart ached with the loss of a love yet to be found.