Anybody who wants more information on Malcolm's sister Meredith, this story is related to my other story 'Pineapples'

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After Hayes had told him about Sadie and Valerie, Malcolm got him some tissues and helped him clean up his face. Not to mention the wet, snotty patch on Malcolm's shoulder. Hayes ended up getting his wish, and they just lay on his bed for an hour watching Mulan while Malcolm held him. They'd talked a little more about Sadie and Hayes told him that she'd been a dance teacher and how she'd wanted to open up her own school someday. She'd been silly – very quick to point out the most random things like puns on store signs, or how the United States is shaped like a fish. Hayes had come into the kitchen so many times to see her dancing like a marionette in a windstorm to whatever was on the radio. But she'd been moody as well, disappearing into herself for days at a time before suddenly acting as though nothing was wrong. Malcolm just listened and ran his fingers lightly over Hayes's back, drawing random pictures and sometimes asking Hayes to guess. And at Malcolm's insistence they ended up coming up with another rule:

Number four: Let yourself be taken care of.

He was still torn up over Sadie – he didn't think he would ever be able to get over what had happened to her – but it felt good to get it off his chest. He had mentioned her, briefly, to past therapists but he avoided talking about her whenever possible. When they wanted to press the issue he made sure to tell them exactly what they wanted to hear so they'd drop it – he had never felt comfortable enough to really speak about her to anyone. He didn't think he'd ever mentioned her to someone he was dating before. No, that wasn't right, he had to have dropped her name in conversation once or twice, but he'd certainly never cried for thirty minutes on anyone's shoulder. He'd always gone to great pains to make it seem like he was dealing with it. Actually, the last time he got worked up over it was at her funeral when he'd ended up loudly ugly crying in his childhood bedroom while his mother held him. The one and only time he could remember Nancy being there for him. She'd actually stayed in San Diego for a few months after the funeral, trying to be there for him, Quinn, Piper, and Parker.

Until she, Quinn and Hayes had a massive argument and she went back to Arkansas and he didn't hear from her again until his birthday. He couldn't even remember what they had been fighting over. It had probably been related to how much he was drinking.

"Sorry, love, my arm's gone dead," Malcolm said, taking his arm from behind Hayes's head. He shook it out, trying to get the feeling back into it. They'd been sitting together, backs against the headboard, Malcolm with an arm around Hayes while he lay against him.

"Sorry," Hayes said, as he scooted down and lay his head on Malcolm's stomach instead, wrapping an arm around his waist. He'd always been pretty cuddly with his partners, and it had become obvious very quickly that Malcolm was not. Most of the physical contact was initiated by Hayes: the random kisses; snuggling while watching a movie; touching his back or knee; sneak attack hugs when Malcolm was alone in his office and no one could see. And they were careful not to let anyone see. They left space between them on the rec room couches and Hayes had to restrain himself from touching his hand, or knee when they were in the mess. Hoshi and Tucker knew, obviously, and Malcolm confessed that he'd told Travis as well. It's not like it bothered Hayes, but they'd only been together two weeks and he wasn't comfortable with people knowing just yet; Malcolm even less so.

He could feel Malcolm's fingers as he drew aimless circles on his back and a pleasurable shiver went up his spine. He started drawing something more intricate, gently poking Hayes twice.

"Alright, what was that?" Malcolm asked him.

"Do it again?" Hayes requested. He smiled as Malcolm did so. "A smiley face?"

"You got it." He had just started to draw something else when the bell to Hayes's quarters rang. They glanced at each other before Hayes climbed over Malcolm to get it while Malcolm paused the movie.

"Good evening, major."

"Evening commander."

T'Pol was standing on the other side of the door, her hands clasped behind her back and a deadpan look on her face. "May I come in?"

"Of course, ma'am." Hayes stood back to let her pass, wondering what on Earth this could be about. Especially at this time.

"Good evening, commander," Malcolm said, getting up at her entrance and standing at ease. T'Pol eyed him up for a moment but didn't say anything. Malcolm glanced towards Hayes, his mouth set in a line. Well shit, what did that look mean?

T'Pol took a few deliberate steps towards Malcolm, not taking her eyes off of him. If Hayes didn't know any better he'd say she looked pissed off; Malcolm certainly looked worried. Everything about her, from her posture, to the way she was looking at them spelled bad news to Hayes. Her lips were pursed and her eyes steely, and it was having the combined effect of making Hayes feel nauseous. Neither Malcolm nor Hayes dared say anything which only made Hayes more nervous; Malcolm would normally have asked her what brought her there at this hour by now. Instead he was silent, trying to appear at ease. T'Pol came to stand between them, and looked from one to the other before settling on Hayes.

"Major, would you care to offer an explanation for this?"

She held out a PADD to him, cocking her head to the side. He took it from her, his heart jumping into his mouth. It was the video feed from the pantry; a frozen picture of Hayes was on the screen with the wine rack behind him. Shit, shit, shit…

"Press play." T'Pol cocked an eyebrow when he didn't immediately comply. "Play the feed, major."

He reluctantly did so and saw himself stand in front of the booze, hesitating. He could remember what had been going through his mind: he was trying to convince himself not to take it, to just leave it and run to Malcolm instead but in the end that part of him had lost and the part that of him that was angry and frustrated and still blaming himself for Sadie's death had won. The Hayes on the video finally snatched up a bottle and turned on his heel trying to hide it under his jacket. There was no doubt that it was him – his face was clearly visible.

"Major, are you aware of the policy surrounding alcohol consumption onboard?" T'Pol drawled. Her tone just dared him to be insubordinate and see what happened. Hayes was a dead man. He was dead, she was going to drag him in front of the Captain and he was going to have his ass handed to him. This was it, this was where his patience ended – Hayes just had to go and ruin it, all he'd had to do was control himself and behave, but no he had to go and break Captain Archer's trust. He was such a fucking piece of crap; he knew he didn't deserve the chance the Captain was giving him but he'd taken it anyway like the selfish ass he was.

"Commander, I think I can explain," Malcolm interjected quickly.

"I wasn't asking you, lieutenant." T'Pol unceremoniously shut him down. She kept her eyes trained on Hayes at all times and just held up a hand to silence Malcolm when he tried to speak again. He shut his mouth, chastised. It did nothing for Hayes confidence when he saw Malcolm gulp. "Major, I will not ask you again."

Hayes fought back the urge to puke. "Consumption of mind altering substances is strictly prohibited unless given express permission by the Captain or Executive Officer." He handed the PADD back to T'Pol and stood at attention. "That includes alcohol ma'am."

T'Pol took the PADD from him and turned to face Malcolm, her back to Hayes. "I saw you return the bottle, I already knew you were lying to me when we spoke in the pantry." Crap. Malcolm hadn't mentioned running into her when he brought it back. She glanced between the two of them again, an extremely unimpressed look on her face. "Would either of you care to tell me why you were playing pass the wine between the pair of you?"

"Ma'am, I returned the very same bottle the major took in the first place," Malcolm evenly told her. "Unopened."

"Lt. Reed is covering for me, ma'am," Hayes piped up, nice and direct. Like fuck was he letting Malcolm take the fall for him or try to get him out of it. "I took the bottle, this has nothing to do with the lieutenant."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "He lied to me; he's made himself involved."

Malcolm and Hayes exchanged a glance. "Commander, it is the consumption of alcohol that his prohibited," Malcolm calmly told her. The nervousness had gone from his face and now he looked like he wasn't even breaking a sweat. "I apologise that I mislead you, but in my opinion I felt that the matter was closed."

"I am still confused," T'Pol insisted, very mild annoyance seeping into her voice. "Major Hayes took a bottle of wine from the pantry; you returned it unopened. Why?"

"The major informed me he regretted his actions and wanted to return the bottle; a mistake was made, it was corrected with no harm done and no regulations broken."

"It was still taken in the first place."

"Removing supplies from the pantry is not prohibited and that is all that occurred."

That was a stretch – there were certain things in there that were very clearly off limits. Snack bars, trail mix, candy, fruit, they were all up for grabs at any given time. Meat was more tightly controlled, as were some rarer items that were hard to come by, like alien vegetables, and for sure the goddamn booze.

"But I did take contraband and I am prepared for the consequences." Hayes interrupted T'Pol from firing back at Malcolm. Maybe she'd just throw him in the brig for the night. Being confined the quarters for a few days was probably the best he could hope for right now, but maybe Malcolm could talk her down from whatever she was contemplating – no. No, he wasn't going to ask Malcolm to mitigate the punishment and he wasn't going to let him, he was just going to take whatever she wanted to mete out. "I should have exercised more control and restrained myself. It was a lapse in judgement and I am prepared for whatever reprimand you see fit."

T'Pol looked between the two of them again before turning to Malcolm. She'd apparently made up her mind on something. "Lieutenant, I'd like you to wait outside. That wasn't a request."

Malcolm hesitated for a fraction of a second before complying. He shot a sympathetic look towards Hayes as he passed him on his way out. T'Pol waited until the door shut behind him before speaking.

"Major, I was informed by the Captain of your… issue with alcohol." Oh, no, she knew? T'Pol? Great, she already thought that Hayes was an idiot, and now it turns out she knew he was a weak ass alcoholic who would probably be the reason that Malcolm was going to secure the alcohol better onboard. This was almost as bad as if his team found out – wait, did this mean that the rest of the senior staff knew? Did Tucker know? Hoshi? Hayes forcibly swallowed the lump in his throat; the more people who knew, then the more likely it was that it was going to make its way around the whole ship. It was already pretty obvious that Hayes was on light duty, though he had more or less taken back all of his responsibilities from Malcolm and Ed by this point, but still. He knew that people were curious.

She glanced down to the side, and if Hayes didn't know better he'd say she looked uncomfortable. "At ease, major." He relaxed, but only just. "Do you remember when in the Expanse, when we came across the Seleya?"

Okay… where the hell was she going with this? "Yes, ma'am."

She looked him up and down, her features softening. "Then you remember I became affected by the trillium-D while we were onboard." She looked to side for a moment, deciding something. "I experienced quite strong emotions due to the exposure; emotions that took well over a week to subside. I found it quite difficult."

Hayes hadn't known that; to him she'd been nothing but cool, calm, and collected while in the Expanse. Mac actually told him that she liked working with T'Pol – her unflappable demeanour and composure tended to give her a calming effect on the crew, as well as her tendency to lay things out in the most straightforward manner possible.

"However," she continued, not looking at him. "I also found that I was able to… connect with the crew much better than before. I enjoyed it." She met his gaze head on just then. "I wasn't willing to give up that connection. I began taking small amounts of the substance, to the extent that I became addicted to it. I put myself in danger at one point just to get access."

Holy shit… Hayes couldn't believe his ear. He couldn't believe that she was telling him this, of all people. Didn't she think he was an idiot?

"Now, as I'm sure you're aware, part of the ship's XO's responsibilities include crew welfare; and as I'm sure you can imagine this is not something I find easy, due to being a Vulcan serving on a human vessel. As such, advice and guidance from the rest of the senior staff is something I rely on, quite heavily."

"I think you do a fine job, ma'am." An odd segue way, but okay.

"I appreciate that major." And she seemed like she did. "When I was informed of your addiction, Lt. Reed advised me not to say anything; he felt that you wanted as few people to know as possible, and the Captain concurred."

"That would be accurate, ma'am." For fuck sake, who else knew? He and Malcolm were going to have to have a little chat later on. Provided he somehow managed to avoid the brig.

"I of course understand; you and Dr. Phlox are the only ones on the entire ship that are aware of my addiction and I would appreciate it if you could keep it that way."

"My lips are sealed, ma'am."

"I expected nothing but complete discretion from you. And I must admit, it was actually my first instinct to reach out to you to tell you about my own experience." She took a step towards him. "During the brief time I had unfettered access to my emotions… I realised what loneliness truly felt like." She was looking at him with a softer expression than Hayes had ever seen on her face – it was the kind of look she normally reserved for Tucker, Archer, and Hoshi. And occasionally Porthos. "I am telling you this because I do not want you to feel that you are alone; I may not understand everything that you are going through but I will try. You have my word."

Hayes was speechless. She was the last person he would have ever expected to hear that from – he'd mistakenly assumed that she wouldn't have a clue or even attempted to try to reach him. But what had the Captain said about her? Don't let the aloof exterior fool you, she gives far more than a damn about her crew mates. Huh. Guess she did. And Malcolm had the utmost respect for her, he knew that for sure.

"Th-thank you, ma'am," Hayes eventually managed to get out. "I really appreciate you telling me that."

T'Pol nodded. "Of course, major. To that end," she continued. "There are several meditation techniques that I found useful to deal with the cravings. I would be more than happy to show you them, if you'd like."

"That would be great," Hayes heard himself saying. Meditation? Him?

"Excellent, are you free tomorrow evening?"

Hayes heard himself tell her that he was, and he suddenly found himself with a date with the ship's First Officer at twenty-one hundred tomorrow night. What the hell had just happened?

After promising him that the Captain didn't need to hear about this, provided he confided his lapse to Phlox, she told him that she would let him get back to his evening with Lt. Reed, and swept passed him as regal as ever.

"And, major?" She'd turned at the door.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Meditation is not 'nap-time'. Consider yourself warned."

Hayes was about to feel insulted, until he noticed the glint in her eye, and the slight raise of her eyebrows.

Huh. Maybe she did have a sense of humour.