Hayes still couldn't believe that he was having this conversation with Captain Archer; it was long after eight, and Hayes had already ended up telling him how he was worried about what his team was going to think of him if they found out, and how he wasn't entirely comfortable with how much extra work he was piling on Malcolm and Ed. And he knew that a lot of people were worried about him, he'd overheard them for God's sake, and he didn't like feeling like he was a distraction and a source of stress. It didn't help that he didn't like the attention.
Captain Archer for his part did his best to reassure him and ended up explaining that this was actually pretty standard operating procedure for Starfleet in event of illness – both physical and mental. He'd done something similar for Malcolm after he'd been outed, Captain Archer knew Hayes was aware he had been having panic attacks over it; he also had to accommodate a couple of other crewmembers in the past, though he didn't name them, and he even told Hayes about how just after he'd joined Starfleet he'd sunk into a depression and how the medication they'd put him on had messed with him for about a month before settling. His CO at the time, then Captain Forrest, had actually let him take naps in the middle of the day when he first went on it – the drowsiness had been that bad.
"And I was an ensign who'd just finished OCS about a month previously," Archer explained. OCS being Officer Candidate School, the twelve week program run by the United Earth Air Force that trained Starfleet hopefuls; until 2140 candidates with a bachelor's degree could apply for OCS to receive officer training. Both Archer and Tucker had joined Starfleet that way.
"I was part-time for about another month, so I could fit in doctor's appointments and get enough rest," he continued. He was struck by a sudden thought. "Once, I was leaving early to get to the pharmacy, and I couldn't find the train timetable; had a meltdown. Something as simple as that, right? Anyway, one of my colleagues, Lt. Kim, found me, looked up the train times for me, and then walked me to my stop." He reached behind him to ring the bell for one of the stewards and asked for more coffee. "Anyway, I'm leaving the pharmacy and my mom is there waiting for me – turns out Kim told Forrest and he rang her to let her know I was having a bad day. And," he waved a teaspoon in Hayes's direction. "Forrest made sure to check on me the next day."
"Was this the NX Project, sir?" Hayes asked.
"No, this was a good six years before that," Archer told him. "We were testing the orbit to atmosphere capabilities of these small warp one vessels, trying to work out the aerodynamics for reentry for various atmospheric conditions. I did an awful lot of ground control, though Forrest watched me like a hawk."
"Were you okay with that? Someone looking over your shoulder the whole time?"
Archer chuckled. "I was twenty-three, felt like I was losing my mind, and terrified that I was going to make the pilot crash – no, I didn't really have a problem with Forrest being able to jump right on in. Spent quite a good bit of time analysing the flight telemetry as well, and put in time with the engineering team but I got back in the pilot's seat eventually."
Just listening to him talk was really making Hayes feel a lot better, and a lot calmer. If that hadn't stopped Archer from being accepted on to the NX Project, never mind commanding the Enterprise, Hayes was getting pretty confident he wasn't about to have everything he'd worked so hard for taken away from him. Hayes even felt comfortable enough to tell him how he'd stopped drinking in forty-three and before that his record had been four years, from thirty-five to thirty-nine. He stopped short of telling him what had broken his sobriety, though. He avoided thinking about her as much as possible, but it was nearly August and that was always a bad month. All of thirty-nine, the entire year, was pretty much a blur though Hayes was sure that he'd avoided a court martial by the skin of his teeth. Or more likely his grandparents' connections.
Archer told him a few more stories from the NX Project, and from the early days of Starfleet; the organisation had been two years old when Archer joined, which meant that it had still been finding its feet. Most of the higher ups were ex-MACO, Navy, and Air Force – Admiral Forrest had actually flown search and rescue for years with the Canadian Air Force – and Archer had been part of the first twenty to go through OCS. Tucker had been one of the last. Malcolm often complained that he had a damn bachelor's and still had to do three years at the academy; he, Hoshi, and Travis were the classes of '47, '48, and '49 respectively.
"I'm sorry, I am doing most of the talking," Archer eventually said, apologetically.
"I really don't mind, sir, I like listening," Hayes told him. And it was true; Archer was charismatic and a good storyteller. Hayes knew it was the main reason the crew never let him forget the Gazelles Speech – it amused them that the Great Orator had made a speech that bad.
"Then you should get Trip talking, he's almost as bad as me," Archer joked, knocking back the last of his coffee. "But you know who's a great listener? T'Pol."
That surprised Hayes. "Cmdr. T'Pol, sir?" He hadn't imagined that she would care enough to pay attention to any of the crew for very long. Maybe Tucker, or Hoshi, but that was it.
"The very same." He continued as though he knew what Hayes was thinking. "Don't let the aloof exterior fool you, she gives far more than a damn about her crew mates. And I've come to realise and appreciate that it's always a good idea to get the Vulcan perspective on things. The Denobulan point of view as well, while we're at it." The Captain stood, Hayes following suit. "Infinite diversity, in infinite combinations. It's a good motto; and I'm not just saying that because I had Surak's Katra in my head."
Archer clapped Hayes on the shoulder as they entered the now empty mess, each going their separate ways at the turbolift. Hayes was thankful that the Captain hadn't mentioned Surak before the very end of their talk; he knew he could talk about that for quite a while.
Now all he had to do was survive his talk with Tucker.
Tucker smiled and raised a hand in greeting as Hayes entered the mess. He nodded in return and gestured to the drinks dispenser, before grabbing himself a cup of coffee. There was only Lt. Cmdr. Tachibana in front of him, staring intently at a PADD while drinking her tea. There were very few people in the mess, about ten others with teas and coffees in front of them. He'd been trying to come up with an excuse to cut this short, especially seeing as Reed had told him he could take an hour as opposed to the normal thirty minutes. He didn't need an hour with Tucker, God dammit, he was fine!
People who are fine don't cry in front of their CO, that stupid voice pointed out. Yeah, and they don't relapse either or snap like a douche-bag at the guy they like, Hayes agreed. They also didn't talk to themselves. Or beagles.
After taking far too long putting sugar into his coffee and making sure that it was dissolved, Hayes strode over to Tucker's table and sat down. "How're you doing, commander?"
"Can't complain, though I have a few plasma relays vying for my attention when I get back," Tucker replied shrugging. He had a plate of cookies in front of him, which he pushed towards Hayes. "Help yourself."
"Did you pick up this habit from Ma-Lt. Reed?" Hayes asked, taking one, but instead of taking a bite he just held it in his hand.
Tucker smiled. "Do you know how many boxes of English biscuits and tea leaves he actually had Chef put away?"
Hayes returned to the smile. "I know Capt. Eddison isn't complaining." Okay, this was fine; he could keep this up for an hour. "I think the two of them have a slight caffeine addiction." Better caffeine than booze…
Shooting the breeze was never something that Hayes had a problem with, normally able to bullshit about almost anything. Normally; lately it seemed that he couldn't even carry a conversation with Hoshi – and talking to people was her job. What had the Captain said? Tucker liked to talk, so all he had to do was keep him talking and hopefully he wouldn't expect much from Hayes. Not that anyone can expect much from him right now. He internally cringed at how he'd seen Malcolm looking at him when he'd stuck his head into the armoury for a couple of minutes that morning; he'd asked him last night over messenger if Hayes had wanted to get lunch and all Hayes had replied was sure. And then he hadn't replied when Malcolm had asked what time he was planning on taking lunch. He'd barely given him much more over the last few days, and he knew full well that Malcolm deserved better than that. But he kept all of that off of his face as he chatted to Tucker, and the conversation turned to sport after a few minutes. Tucker was excitedly telling him that Hoshi should be getting her hands on some of the latest NASCAR events pretty soon.
"I'm just glad I got to see the cup before we left," Trip told him.
"Do they have year round events?" Hayes asked, just to keep the conversation going. NASCAR actually bored him to tears.
"Oh yeah, all over the world," Tucker told him. "But my brother and brother-in-law took us to Daytona all the time when we were growing up."
"Your brother?" Hayes hadn't known he had a brother.
"Yeah, Albert's eight years older than me, and he and Miguel started datin' when they were around sixteen." Tucker dunked a cookie in his coffee. "Used to take Elizabeth and I on trips all the time."
Elizabeth, that was her name. Hayes had thought it was Emily, Emma, or something else with an E. "There's a bit of an age gap between myself and my youngest sister, Harper." Hayes often pretended that he only had Quinn, Piper, Parker, and Harper. It saved all the awkward questions. "I used to take her to the waterpark all the time; she loved it."
"And you didn't?" Tucker ribbed him.
"Sure, when I didn't have to stick to the kiddie slides." That was actually true; he and his full siblings used to take their maternal half-siblings around San Diego and on some of the hiking trails when their mom visited her parents. They'd lived close by Hayes's paternal grandparents, and used to take them some weekends if Dolores and Elliot felt like they needed a break. Often, it coincided with when his Dad and Step-mom left their kids with them.
"Elizabeth was three years younger than me," Trip said, a nostalgic look coming over his face. "There was this old-fashioned movie theatre not far from our house; if I was ever going and wasn't bringing her, she'd start screaming until I brought her." He looked down, smiling sadly. "Man, she loved movies."
"You seem to have that in common," Hayes pointed out, softly. This was one of the reasons that he didn't really want to talk to Tucker – he didn't want to bring up his late sister but knew he'd be the biggest ass in the sector if he changed the subject. He really did not want to talk about dead sisters. "What kind of movies did she like?"
"All the old ones, same as me." Tucker paused. "It was actually why I stopped doing movie night for a while, but you know what, it's important for morale."
Hayes knew that the Xindi weapon had ripped right through Tucker's hometown; he wondered if that movie theatre was even still there anymore. But thinking about the Xindi was making him sweat, so he tried to think of a change of subject without it seeming too obvious. He was about to ask what Tucker was planning for movie night this week when –
"And speaking of morale," oh God, no… "How's your team been since we got back from the Expanse?"
Wait, what? "Oh, they're, uh, they're doing okay." Nobody had obviously cracked that Hayes had noticed. Except for him.
"Good," Tucker said, eating a cookie. "I know you guys didn't have to go through psych evals when we got back; not going to lie, I thought that was pretty strange."
"Nobody appeared to be having any problems," Hayes lied. "It didn't seem necessary." And besides, he would probably have been caught.
"But don't you do a yearly psych eval anyway?" Tucker pressed.
He was not going to let this go. "No, just a physical, a fitness test, and combat readiness tests." Please let it go, please let it go, please let it go…
Tucker shook his head. "That just seems really strange to me, especially since we see some weird stuff out here. Space is big, a lot of it's empty, and what's not empty is alien."
"I will drink to that," Hayes said, clinking his mug against Tuckers.
Tucker bit his bottom lip, considering something. "So what's going on with you and Malcolm?" he said abruptly.
Hayes was startled. What had Malcolm told him? He wasn't embarrassed of course, but he didn't really think it was appropriate that his superior knew about his personal life. But then again, said superior was the best friend of his hopefully soon-to-be boyfriend, and Malcolm was close to rest of the senior staff as well… oh fuck, did the Captain know?
Hayes decided to play dumb. Like that's hard for you. Hayes told that voice to fuck off, he was not listening to it or its bullshit today. "I don't know what you mean, sir."
Tucker shrugged, and then tried to look intimidating. "He said he thought that you were ignoring him over breakfast today, so I thought that I'd kill two birds with one stone here: check in on you, and give you the shovel talk."
Hayes laughed. "If this is the part where you threaten to hurt me if I hurt him, I'm pretty sure Malcolm knows a variety of ways of killing me with a variety of weapons. So, with all due respect commander, I am way more afraid of him than I am of you."
"And I know a variety of ways of making the body disappear."
"Let me guess, chop me up and use me for fuel?"
Tucker leaned back in his chair, nonchalant. "That's only one of 'em."
They stared at each other for a moment, and Hayes was actually starting to get nervous. Was he going to tell him to stay away from Malcolm? Did he not think he was good enough for him? He remembered Malcolm telling him the other night as they lay in bed afterwards that Malcolm had thought that he wasn't attracted to him. Hayes had burst out laughing. What if Tucker thought he was using him or something? His thoughts were cut off by Tucker starting to laugh.
"Ease up, I'm only messin' with you." He leaned forward again, and drank more coffee. "Sort of. But in all seriousness, maybe send a message his way?"
"Yes, sir." A knot was starting to form in Hayes stomach. Malcolm wouldn't be back in the armoury until after lunch, so Hayes wouldn't have the opportunity to just ask him in person. And there was no guarantee that he'd see a personal message before lunch, but it was all that was left for Hayes to do.
"So, that other thing that I wanted to talk to you about," Tucker said, seriously. Oh boy, here it comes. "I was looking over the specs for the LR28s and I more importantly, what kind of mods Malcolm wants to do to 'em. I know shooting 'em might be more your thing, but I was wondering if you wanted to give us a hand." Wait, what?
"Us, as in…?"
"As in myself and Malcolm."
More time with Malcolm? Sign Hayes up. But did Tucker actually think that he would be able to keep up with them? Hayes knew the basics, but Malcolm and Tucker's knowledge was a whole other level.
"I don't know sir, I mean, it looks interesting…" And it did; Hayes was always fascinated looking at Malcolm examining and taking things apart, but never asked him any questions for fear of looking stupid. He was pretty envious of the way some of the enlisted and more junior officers could just pepper him with questions without that insecurity. And if he was honest, he kind of did want to get to understand the mechanics of his ordinance a little bit better; once, they'd been on an away mission and Chang's rifle had been damaged; Hayes had had a look and had written it off, but Malcolm had taken it off of him, taken a very small toolkit out of his pocket and repaired it in thirty minutes. It was an incredibly handy skill to have.
"Come on, Malcolm said you knew a ton about 'em already, from when you gave him that tutorial."
That had been weeks ago! And Tucker remembered that? Malcolm had told Tucker that? But, yeah, he had done his research on the rifle but he wasn't confident that he could gut it and put it back to together like Malcolm and Tucker could. Hell, sometimes Malcolm couldn't put it back together at all; he'd very sheepishly apologised to Hayes more than once for the state of his ordinance. But considering the improvements he often made, Hayes considered it an acceptable roll of the dice.
"It'll be fun," Tucker tried to convince him.
"I don't know if I'll be able to keep up, sir." Hayes confessed.
Tucker waved that away. "Sure you will; and if you don't get anything just ask us, we don't bite."
Hayes actually knew that under certain circumstances, Malcolm kind of did, but he wasn't going to tell Tucker that. And he definitely wasn't going to show him the bite mark on his chest. "I'll probably just get in your way."
"If you were going to be in the way, I wouldn't be asking you to join us," Tucker insisted.
It wouldn't be a bad idea, especially if he was able to make repairs on the fly to extent Malcolm was… he agreed to it, leaving Tucker looking pretty happy. He dropped it after that, telling him that he'd let him know when he and Malcolm had put aside a time and they more or less just talked nonsense for the rest of the hour.
It was nice.