Three days ago...

"So, Chef has just gone to inform Cmdr. Tucker that there is a leek under the sink."

Reed's voice behind the camera was low as he crouched down to get a good shot of the leek he'd placed under the sink in the galley.

Sato's voice off camera: "This is going to be good." Hayes could hear the grin in it. The door could be heard opening off camera, and the frame shook as Reed got out of the way but kept the sink in shot. He heard Tucker before he came into view, kneeling down. Reed was clearly holding the camera so as to keep it hidden.

"I don't see a leak," Tucker said, taking a good look around in the space under there. He turned to where Hayes assumed Chef was standing off camera. "Where did you see the water?"

"There's definitely a leek in there." That was Chef.

Tucker then gave the camera some serious side-eye. Or maybe that was aimed at Reed. "What are you two doing in here?"

"We were making smoothies." Sato's voice answered. She must have been standing next to Reed. "Want one?"

Clearly not buying it, Tucker slowly turned back to the space under the sink. He reached up and turned to water on, just a trickle, and waited. "Guys, there's no leak."

Reed was walking towards him. "Trip, there is definitely a leek under the sink." He aimed the camera over Tucker's shoulder, and said leek came into view, on top of some spare cooking equipment. "I don't know how you can't see it."

They started arguing, Tucker insisting there wasn't a leak until suddenly he came up short – he dropped his head to his chest as Reed, Sato, Chef, and whoever else was in the galley burst out laughing. "What the hell, guys…"

Tucker joined in the laughter, and picked up the leek he'd finally spotted. "Are you kidding me?" He took a swipe at Reed's legs with the leek – the camera jerked as Reed jumped out of the way, laughing. He had a nice laugh, Hayes had to admit. "Are you kidding me?"

He stood up with the leek in his hand, grinning wildly. "This is the stupidest prank – are you filming this?" He looked directly into the camera, still grinning.

"Yup." Reed panned around the galley, showing Sato giggling and leaning on the island, a couple of stewards laughing around the room, but Chef seemed to be avoiding the camera. The footage ended. Hayes exited the video application on his lap top, bringing up the duty roster for the next three days. He'd been in the middle of making some adjustments when he'd gotten the instant message on the informal ship wide chat – the one the crew used for memes, movie night picks, and cute pictures of Porthos. There was another chat for quick, formal communiques between the senior staff and the rest of the crew. Mainly though, it was Reed informing them of drills, or Sato with a list of etiquette they'd need to follow for the latest diplomatic mission. He had been in the mess when they'd pulled their little prank, but he hadn't been let in on the joke, as usual. He'd wondered why the commander had actually carried a leek around with him for most of the day. He hadn't bothered to ask, and no one had bothered to tell him. He was just getting back to work when his doorbell chimed.

Reed and two of his security personnel were standing on the other side. "Evening lieutenant." Hayes eyed them up warily.

"Major." Reed nodded grimly. He handed over a PADD and Hayes skimmed the orders open on it. "The Captain has requested that I perform a full search of the ship, including all crew quarters; everything should be there. Would you mind waiting outside while I conduct the search, I'll be quick as I can." It wasn't a request. Hayes felt like a stone had dropped into his stomach, but complied and stepped into the corridor. At least he was still fully dressed.

"I was just watching the leek prank," he called from where he was waiting. He couldn't see into his quarters. He glanced at his guards, who smiled and nodded at him. Crewman Cohen and Chief Petty Officer Kipchoge, Reed's protégé and right hand woman respectively. "I wondered where Cmdr. Tucker got that leek."

Reed didn't answer immediately. Shit, shit, shit. "It was Ensign Sato's idea," he called back eventually. "I think she saw it in another video back on Earth." Hayes really wished he could see what he was doing. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he'd be too obvious if he could. Maybe Reed wouldn't find what he was looking for. What was he even looking for? It could be something different. The orders he was holding in his sweaty hands just said there was some missing inventory, it didn't say what was missing, if could be some God damn fruit, for Christ's sake. Right?

After what seemed like an eternity, Reed returned. "Everything seems in order major. Sorry for the interruption; enjoy the rest of your evening."

And that was it. The three of them rounded the corner, moving to the next set of quarters. Hayes let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He'd gotten away with it. He'd gotten away with it. With a start, he realised he was just standing frozen in the corridor and went back into his quarters. He breathed another sigh of relief. He started taking a few deep breaths, trying to get his breathing under control, and slow his heart rate back down. He wiped his hands on his pants and turned towards his bathroom to switch off the light Reed had left on, and froze. He strode into the bathroom, his ears ringing.

There, on the closed toilet seat lid, was the three quarters full bottle of bourbon. The space in the wall he'd hidden it in was open, the pipes exposed, the metal panel covering it next to the bottle. He picked up the bottle and held it in both hands.

He was a dead man.

His mind went completely blank; all he could hear was the ringing in his ears. Why hadn't Reed had him escorted to the brig? He'd obviously found the bottle, he should be expecting to be brought before a livid Captain Archer at any moment. What the hell was the lieutenant playing at, was he trying to make him sweat? Bastard.

He frantically tried to think of some kind of explanation as to why he'd had it but came up empty; could he say it had been planted? No, that was a moronic idea, who the hell would believe that? He was in for it this time. This wasn't an office job he'd been stuck in because no one else knew what to do with him, this was the Star Ship Enterprise where he needed his wits about him at any given moment; Earth's premiere vessel, savior from the Xindi, where it was a privilege to serve, and here he was, caught red handed with contraband – which he had stolen from the Captain, and clearly drank from. He was going to be sick. This was it, this was the point he fucked up so badly not even his grandmother could save him. He knew penalties for misconduct and misbehavior were more severe on vessel, was this enough for a prison sentence? Court martial for sure… and a dishonourable discharge. Would this count as dereliction of duty? How the hell was he supposed to face any of his grandparents again? How could he put them through this? Again?

Well, what the hell; he had nothing to lose now. He brought the bottle back into his bedroom, unscrewing the top as he walked and took a swig. And then another. And another. He practically threw himself down onto his bed. He wasn't used to hard liquor anymore, and it burned as bad as the other night when he'd first gotten his hands on the bottle. He could feel it burning all the way down to his stomach.

He took another drink.

He was dead. Or at least he wished he was. His mouth was dry, his stomach felt like it had taken a beating, his throat burned, and his head was pounding. He let out an involuntary groan as he opened his eyes.

"Welcome back to the land of the living; You were asleep for almost twenty-four hours."

He turned his head towards the sardonic voice that he knew so well. The movement hurt his head. He could see Reed was sitting on the low bench next to the door, reading a book and not looking at him. And as he became aware of the lieutenant's presence, he also became aware that he was wearing only his underwear, and there was his empty trash can on the floor near his head. It smelled like strong cleaner that made Hayes's head swim. He tried to roll onto his back, but something was in the way. He turned to look: it was his gym bag, extra blankets, and a couple of pillows. Reed must have used them to keep him on his side while he slept it off. He could guess why he was half naked. He slowly sat up, the blanket that had been tucked up to his chin falling down. He braced himself on the side of the bed, desperately avoiding looking at Reed by staring at his lap. He was wearing different underwear. And he was sitting a slightly damp towel. Oh my God…

"Yeah, you weed yourself." Reed was unsympathetic. Wait, had he said that out loud? "And projectile vomited everywhere. The bin turned out to be useless." There was a pause before Reed actually closed his book and looked up at Hayes. "Would you care to explain yourself? And more importantly – why am I covering for you?"

Hayes scrunched up his eyes and grimaced. He didn't have an answer. Not a good one, at any rate. "You didn't tell the Captain?" His voice was raspy and talking hurt his throat.

"I've not reported you for disciplinary action, no." Reed picked something up from the bench beside him and threw it Hayes. Pulling it off his head, he realised it was his pants. "I washed everything, by the way."

"Am I meant to be grateful?" He snapped. He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Reed's face had hardened. "I didn't mean…" Reed didn't say anything, just stared him down and Hayes lost the courage to try and finish his sentence; Reed's face was unreadable, but Hayes could imagine the disgust he must be feeling. He stood up, slowly, and started to pull on his pants. His head felt like it was going to fall off.

"You kept muttering something about 'ten years down the drain'," Reed said eventually. "What did you mean by that?"

Hayes started hunting around for a clean T-shirt, realised he didn't have one seeing as he hadn't bothered to do laundry in about three weeks, and started to look in his hamper – which was empty. Something soft hit him in the head and he caught it before it fell to the floor; it was a clean shirt. "I told you, I washed everything."

"Everything?" Hayes asked stupidly.

"I wasn't going to leave your sheets and clothes covered in vomit, and I noticed you didn't have anything clean, so I thought while I was there, might as well." He stood up. "I noticed you were re-wearing a lot of your clothes, thought you might need a hand."

"All of my clothes are the same," Hayes asked. "It's a uniform. How could you possibly know I was re-wearing anything?" He awkwardly pulled the T-shirt on.

"By the smell," Reed said simply. "And I'm not the only one who noticed that." He wasn't accusatory, or annoyed; he sounded concerned, kind even.

"Are you saying I stink, sir?" Reed didn't smile at the attempt at a joke.

"What were you thinking?" He asked eventually, irritated. "Drinking that much in less than an hour? You nearly died!" Hayes shrugged one shoulder but made no other reply. "That is not an acceptable answer!"

"What do you care?" Hayes whirled around to face Reed head on; he regretted the quick movement as the room swam and he had to grab his desk for balance. He swatted Reed's hands away as he tried to grab him. "You're just loving this, aren't you? You can finally get rid of me."

"I haven't wanted to get rid of you in quite some time," Reed answered, his words measured. Hayes cut off whatever he was going to say next.

"Please; I bet you wish the Xindi had finished me off."

"Now, hang on –"

"Just fuck off and tell the Captain already, will you?" Hayes leaned heavily on the desk, avoiding looking at Reed. "I'll bet you can have me off the ship in a week."

"That's not what I want, you need help –"

"From who, you?" Hayes barked out a bitter laugh. "How are you going to help me?"

Reed tried to put a hand on Hayes shoulder, but he shook him. "Phlox is a qualified therapist –"

"You have got to be fucking kidding me –"

"Enough major!" Reed snapped. "You are a major in United Earth MACO, not a petulant child, and you will look at me when I'm speaking to you. Look. At. Me."

The soldier in him found himself complying with that tone of voice. As slow as he dared, Hayes straightened up but instead of meeting Reed's eyes he looked just slightly over his shoulder. He stood to attention as much as he was currently capable.

"I don't know what you were thinking last night, but at this moment in time I don't really care," Reed started. "It's unacceptable and cannot happen again; to that end there are two options: you present yourself to Phlox for evaluation, and possibly therapy sessions; or the Captain will have to take disciplinary action." Reed took a deep breath in. "Personally, I prefer the former."

"It won't happen again, sir, I don't think Phlox is necessary."

"Well, when I called Phlox here to make sure you weren't going to die of alcohol poisoning, he strongly disagreed."

Hayes tensed. Phlox had seen him like that? He really was starting to wish that the drink had been fatal. Or at least the Xindi had better aim…

"Those are my options? Sir?"

"Are you going to actually look at me at any point?" If Hayes didn't know any better, he'd say he sounded hurt. "I don't exactly want to sound like I'm reprimanding a subordinate."

Hayes flicked his eyes to Reed's but didn't relax his posture. "What do you get out of this?"

"What?" Now Reed looked hurt. "I get my colleague some help –"

"But I am a subordinate, though, aren't I?" Hayes didn't even know what he was talking about at this point. "I am assigned as auxiliary support for the Armoury and Tactical Officer onboard; I am at your beck and call." Taking orders from a man who was practically a child compared to him. "It's not like we're close, sir."

A flash of hurt but it was brief. His face turned hard, then blank. "You will speak to the doctor, or I will speak to the Captain," Reed said, evenly. "I expect your answer first thing in the morning. Good night, major."

He left without a backwards glance.