I promoted Travis to Lieutenant Junior Grade; the promotion schedule on Enterprise was as bad Voyager XD. Poor Harry…

He'd made up his mind – he had to leave.

It was the look on Reed's face yesterday that did it; that hurt look that he'd quickly wiped off his face as he schooled his features into the picture of composure. But Hayes could still remember the hurt look on his face – and he'd put it there. He'd snapped at the only person on this ship he could still be sure was his friend, no matter how much he'd try to deny it; not to mention that he'd been insubordinate to a superior who was only trying to help him. Afterwards they'd headed back to the armoury together where Reed had successfully acted as though nothing had happened. Hayes had kept glancing at him until he'd left for the bridge, but Reed hadn't given him any more attention than was strictly necessary. Until it was obvious that Hayes hadn't quite finished planning that day's drill – a joint exercise with Starfleet security personnel – and Reed had had to swoop in and finish the briefing. He'd been smooth about it ("I think you're trying to take my line, major; we should have done a dress rehearsal." It had gotten a chuckle) and had quietly told him not to worry about it, just have the write up done by the end of the day. He hadn't been ticked off at how Hayes clearly hadn't been prepared, but that was somehow worse. Humiliation had been gnawing at his insides for the rest of the day and it only grew when Mac subtly took over running the drill. She'd made it sound as though she wanted the experience – had to earn those gunnery sergeant stripes – but he'd been convinced that no one had been fooled. How long before they stopped taking orders from him?

So, the next morning he'd gotten up earlier than necessary, giving up on proper sleep around oh four thirty; made his bed, showered, shaved, wrote up his resignation letter, filled in the transfer form, and downloaded all of the documents that the Captain would need to sign to make the transfer official. He was one hell of a lot more prepared than he had been yesterday. Just before six he headed to the gym, deciding to skip sitting in the mess hall with the rest of the early birds and sleepy night crew.

"Good morning, neighbour."

Lt. Mayweather had come out of his quarters at the exact same time as Hayes, dressed in workout clothes with a towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He was as pleasant and cheerful as he always was; in fact, even at his absolute worst, there was nothing bad Hayes could find to say about him. And he was able to insult Hoshi. "Heading to the gym?"

"I am, sir." They fell into step beside each other as they headed towards the turbolift.

"How many times do I have to ask you to not call me 'sir'?" Mayweather asked. "You know you're not in my chain of command unless I take the bridge; and only if it's for an extended period of time; you can 'sir' away then, all you want."

It had taken the MACOs a minute to get the command structure on the Enterprise – for starters, no one could understand how Lt. Reed, never mind Ensign Sato, was higher up the chain of command than Lt. Cmdr. Tachibana, who ran the hydroponics bay and botany lab. "She's a Starfleet scientist who has never taken the bridge exam," Mayweather had explained. "It's like if a bunch of different MACOs from different areas were thrown together – a colonel who was a medical doctor can't over rule a captain who was in charge of ground forces when planning an assault, right?" His analogy had fallen flat when he'd been informed that most MACO medical staff were civilians. "She just can't, okay?" Hayes had not been too happy that the Captain was going to require him to take the bridge exam – which both the Captain and Mayweather had helped him study for, but he accepted it as necessary. And gotten the shock of his life when he saw what was going to be tested, and how. His respect for any Starfleet personnel who had passed it increased ten-fold. After he'd passed it, he'd been informed that the chain of command now went: Captain Archer, T'Pol, Tucker, Reed, Mayweather, Sato, Hayes himself, then Lt. Cmdr. Tachibana, and then the rest of the officers onboard. He hadn't understood how in the name of God he'd been bumped above Tachibana, until he actually met the woman – plants were the only thing she really understood. She was lovely, and helped him a little bit with the biology part, but he would not be happy with her on the bridge in a crisis. He honestly didn't even understand how she'd been selected for the mission, but he'd quickly realised just how many separate departments went into making every aspect of ship life run smoothly. And what would happen if any of the MACOs were rude to the stewards, or, God help them, Chef – or the 'help' as Cpls. Chang and Tillens had been caught referring to them as. Tucker had hit the roof.

He chatted to Mayweather – Travis – on the way to gym; workouts were normally a pretty safe topic for the two of them, especially in the last few months when a bunch of new workout fads reached them from Earth. Travis was normally the first to give it a whirl and report back to Hayes on it. What had been really helpful, however, was when he ran Hayes and Ed through a whole load of Starfleet workout routines that could be done in even the most cramped crew quarters – it had really helped with overcrowding in the gym.

Hayes was going to miss this. He actually liked Travis, no matter what he always had a kind word to say about everyone, and somehow made Hayes feel better about himself. He just made everyone feel better about themselves. Tucker had once called a conversation with Hoshi and Travis 'getting on the self-esteem train'. They made you feel better in general; T'Pol made you feel calmer; Tucker would convince you that you could do it; the Captain and Reed made people feel safe. They were a damn sight better at command than he was, or ever could be, and talking to Travis, for what could be the last time only convinced him that he was making the right decision.

How could he stay here, knowing he was such a lousy leader?

"I'm officially requesting a transfer off of the Enterprise, sir."

The Captain didn't react. No surprise, no disappointment (why would he be upset you were leaving, Hayes?), no 'why?', nothing identifiable came across his face, he just stared at the PADD being held out to him and stayed seated behind his desk. Finally he looked up at Hayes and said "Is this because you stole my bourbon and nearly drank yourself to death a few days ago?"

Hayes nearly dropped the PADD. Realizing his mouth was open, he quickly closed it and decided to play dumb. Should be easy for you. "Sir?" he managed to get out after a few moments. "I don't… I don't… know what –"

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" The Captain finished for him, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. "My booze is missing, you're the only recovering alcoholic on record, and I know Phlox made a house call to you a couple of days ago – the same day Lt. Reed searched the ship for said missing booze." He placed his fingers together, leaning on his desk. "Do you think I can't put two and two together, major?"

"With all due respect, sir, I don't appreciate being blamed for the theft based on my past; I've been sober for eleven years." Ten, if he stopped counting at that glass of red wine and considering how badly he'd wanted a drink afterwards, he kind of had to. He was still holding the PADD out; he awkwardly dropped his hand back down, and stood at ease.

The Captain stood, still blank faced, and slowly came around his desk, his eyes boring into Hayes the entire time, who stared straight ahead. Shit, shit, shit… oh, God, Reed; the Captain was going to throw the book at him – there was definitely some kind of professional misconduct case he could levy against him, could he be court martialed for this? Hayes knew how much his career meant to him, and now he'd gone and flushed it for him – it wasn't bad enough to tank his own career, he'd had to go and ruin someone else's too; he never should have let Reed cover for him, if he hadn't been such a pathetic coward he'd have come clean right away –

"Lt. Reed told me he'd found the bottle." Hayes whipped his head around to look at the Captain. Reed swore to him… He was such an idiot; of course he'd told the Captain; Hayes might be stupid, but Reed certainly wasn't. He tried to push the sting that the betrayal had caused down to his boots. "He also told me he believed that the crew member in question was suffering from a relapse of an alcohol addiction that they needed to be treated for; he was rather insistent that he keep their name to himself and that no disciplinary action be taken. Phlox agreed." The Captain moved around Hayes, and over to the small table by the door and started to pour himself a cup of coffee. "And since I know your history, I inferred." He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. "Take a seat."

"Sir –"

"Jackson, take a damn seat."

It was the first time anyone onboard had used his given name; he didn't bother pointing out that he went by his middle name, Matthew. He obeyed, and the Captain placed two cups of coffee in front of him before dragging his own chair around to the front to sit opposite him. "Four sugars, no milk, right?" He pushed one of the cups closer to Hayes.

Hayes was impressed he remembered. "Yes, sir."

The Captain took a sip of his own coffee. "May I ask when you started drinking again?" He sounded genuinely curious.

"When we got back to Earth," Hayes lied. "I didn't touch a drop when we were in the Expanse, sir, I swear to you."

The Captain wasn't falling for it. "I seem to remember you having a glass of wine and a shot of bourbon last October, at my birthday. Am I mistaken?"

Hayes gripped his cup in both hands, trying to draw some comfort from the warmth. "That was the only time," he said quickly. "I did not drink before then, I did not drink after, I was sober for the entire mission. Sir, I would not, I did not endanger the mission by relapsing; it was too important."

"You're damn right it was," the Captain said evenly. "But you just lied to me, so how can I trust what you just said?" Hayes stayed silent. He didn't have an answer to that. "I'm talking to you, Jackson, would you care to respond?"

"You can't, sir."

"I can't what?"

"Trust me." Hayes felt hollow; he gripped his cup tighter.

The Captain ran a hand over his face. "So your plan was to what – head on back to Earth and… then? You hadn't thought that far ahead, had you?" he continued when Hayes hesitated too long.

"I know I can't stay here," Hayes said. He was still avoiding eye contact with the Captain. "The Enterprise's ongoing mission is too important and my team needs a leader." His stomach felt like he'd eaten a bunch of wriggling snakes for breakfast.

"It is," the Captain agreed, nodding. "And they do; but why can't you do it?"

"B-Because I relapsed. You can't have a drunk in charge of the MACO contingent." He thought he'd be relieved once he admitted it, but he just felt empty inside. You can't have someone who can't even finish planning a fucking drill. He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat. "It's what's best for the ship, sir, and it's what's best for my team."

"Needs of the many," the Captain said. He reached out and grabbed his PADD off his desk and silently went through it for a minute. "Sorry, I don't know it off by heart; here we go: Leaders have a duty to provide guidance, including resources and constraints, that allow subordinates to use their initiative and judgement to their full potential; to be committed to empowerment and to unlock the potential of every crewperson; leaders should take responsibility for subordinates in personal distress and support them to the best of their ability." He looked up, placing the PADD back on the table. "I had to sign that when I was received command of Enterprise; taking care of my crew is my number one priority and I hate to break this to you Jackson, but that includes you."

"I am not your responsibility, sir."

"If I can provide any help or support, in any way, shape, or form, then yes, you kind of are," the Captain told him, gently. "Our experience in the Expanse knocked us all around pretty badly –"

"No one else stole your bourbon, though," Hayes interrupted. "Sir," he added quickly.

"True," the Captain said slowly. "May I ask what drove you to break into my quarters and commit petty larceny in the first place?"

Because he'd just been hanging around in the rec room, sitting with a group of laughing people, and felt like he couldn't connect with a single one of them; because he'd lasted two months completely dry and hated every second of it; because every time he spoke to Reed all he could get out was 'yes sir' or 'no sir' like the simple-minded buffoon he was; because he could see how everyone was looking at him, he knew he wasn't fooling a single one of them and he had wanted to purge the memory of their expressions at him from his brain.

"It was a severe lapse in judgement, sir," he said eventually. He still hadn't drank any of his coffee.

"Well, yeah, that goes without saying," the Captain replied. "But I'm more interested in the decision making process that led to said lapse in judgement."

"I couldn't say, sir," Hayes replied.

"Can't or won't?" the Captain shot back. "Look, I'm not a therapist, not even close, but I am here, with my coffee and my dog, if you need an ear. Any time, and I mean that." He reached down to pet Porthos, who'd gotten up when he heard the word 'dog'.

"I appreciate that sir." The response was terse and clipped.

The Captain changed tack. "How long before that glass of wine did you go without drinking?"

"Ten years." Ten years where he'd worked his ass off the get where he was; after having the worst possible wake up call; after doing the worst possible thing; and now here he was, giving his CO monosyllables like a dumbass, and waiting for the axe to drop. Because it would. Of course it would, it always did. He'd be brought in, told he was a disgrace to the uniform he was wearing, sent to rehab and reassigned somewhere he couldn't cause any issues. What Captain Archer was saying was in fact new, but it wouldn't last. He'd lay into him soon enough.

"Ten years is no easy feat," the Captain said, completely serious. "Whatever is going on now, you should still be proud of that."

Proud? Of what? He shouldn't be a God damn alcoholic in the first place; he should be better than this. His people need him to be better than this. Reed needed him to be better than this.

"If you say so, sir."

The Captain sighed. "You spoke to Phlox, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you are planning on continuing to speak to Phlox?"

"Until he signs me off, yes sir." Or until you kick me off your ship

"Okay," the Captain nodded, and crossed his legs. "Okay. What we need to do now, however, is talk about your duties."

"I have a duty to my team to ensure they have a capable leader," Hayes said. "That is not me."

The Captain thought for a moment. "Alright then." Archer got up and walked around his desk; he bent over the computer for a moment, muttering to himself as he pulled up some files. He waved off Hayes's offer his own PADD, on which he had all the necessary documents for the transfer. All the Captain had to do was sign them. "I'm not looking for that." Finding whatever he was looking for, he transferred the files to his own PADD and sat back down. "I think we should do your OERS; sorry, T'Pol and I've been trying to get through everyone as fast as we can but got sidetracked by the Augment situation, and then there was what happened on Vulcan… something had to get put on the long finger." He smiled and held up the PADD. "I told General Casey that Jones and Kimura were the only ones who gave me any problems and the rest of you were a credit to MACO, and I'd have the paperwork to prove it as soon as I could."

"I'm sorry – 'oars', sir?" Was that some old naval thing Starfleet used?

"O-E-R-S," the Captain spelled out. He grinned suddenly. "Officers Efficiency Reports; what do you call them in MACO?"

Hayes was feeling very hot under the collar all of a sudden. He started wishing someone would open fire on the ship, or try to board, or they ran into a particularly bumpy nebula – anything to get him out of here. "Just Annual Evaluation, sir."

The Captain handed him the PADD. "T'Pol and I just finished yours the other day; have a read. Aloud," he added, when it looked like Hayes was just going to skim the entire thing. It was pretty much the same as MACOs AnEvals, just a slightly different layout: Intro, list of accomplishments, extra comments, summary. "Any time today, Jackson."

Hayes's hands shook as he held the PADD up. "Out loud, sir?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

Hayes did mind; he minded very much but he knew full well that it wasn't a request. His voice was shaky as read out the first line. "An exceptional leader whose contributions to this command's mission cannot be over stated. Major Hayes has displayed the utmost professionalism and commitment to mission accomplishment. He demonstrates devotion to duty by seeking and obtaining the skills necessary to excel as liaison between Starfleet personnel and the MACO contingent onboard. His confident and calm demeanor was a great support and inspiration to those under his command, as well as his Starfleet colleagues." Hayes was shaking all over by this point. He finally drank some of his coffee to try and steady himself. Confident and calm, my ass, that nasty voice said. What do you want to bet he's going to edit it as soon as you leave? Show what you're really like?

"Want some water?" Hayes nodded jerkily, and the Captain got up to get him some, gently touching his shoulder as he sat back down. "Continue whenever you're ready."

"I don't agree with that, sir."

"You don't agree with continuing?"

Hayes looked up from the PADD and properly at Archer's face for the first time since he'd come in. There was no disgust there, no judgement, no anger; he was just calm, and open. "I don't agree with that assessment. Especially the calm part."

Archer snorted at the attempt at the joke, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. "We all have our off days. And Cmdr. T'Pol signed off on that assessment, you want to tell her she's wrong?" Hayes shook his head, taking deep breaths. "Why don't you start on the accomplishments section?"

Hayes did so after a minute. It was just a list of ops he'd ran or assisted Reed with during their time in the Delphic Expanse. His voice and hands shook the entire time, but at least the rest of him had stopped by the time he got to the end. He'd done that; he had done that, he hadn't been completely useless while in the Expanse; the Captain had even listed his score on the bridge exam, even though it hadn't been anywhere near Reed's, though he did point out that he'd only had a very short time to study and that his score was incredibly impressive, considering.

"See, why would I want to get rid of you?" Archer asked, very seriously, but softly. "That is what you're capable of; you're a damn good officer, and I'm not going to part with you without a fight."

Hayes didn't get it. He was doing exactly what he was meant to be doing; he was meant to tell his CO how he'd fucked up, his CO would agree with him and tell him he was a fuck up, and he was an embarrassment to his unit. But Hayes had learned pretty quickly that the more reasons why he sucked that he gave his CO, the less they screamed, the happier they were, and the faster he got out of there. He could handle being loudly reprimanded without moving a muscle; he didn't know what to do with this, and he felt about ten times more vulnerable.

"Then you should know that I am not capable of this anymore," Hayes insisted. He had a funny fluttering feeling in his chest, and he realised he was having palpitations. He felt very ill by this stage. The Captain started to speak by Hayes cut him off. "No, sir. I have not been performing my duties as well as I should be; yesterday I needed Lt. Reed to take over a briefing I was running, for no other reason than I was completely unprepared for it. I am not able to maintain the standards needed to serve on this ship."

"Right now, at this very minute, that might be true," Archer replied. "But you are also suffering from a relapse of a very serious illness, and I have the means at my disposal to put supports in place so that you can do your job; I fully intend to do just that."

"I don't know how long I'll need those supports." Or what good they'll do. If they'll work at all; Hayes had been telling himself that he could do this on his own, that he'd done it before and could do it again, but yesterday had been such a shit show that it had felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown over him. He didn't deserve to be there, he didn't deserve the help Reed was offering, and he didn't deserve the Captain's patience.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Take your time, okay. Just take your time."