Autthor Notes: I'm so sorry I took this long! I had actually forgotten until my beta poked me earlier today. Anyway, I hope this chapter isn't too farfetched, but the ideas in this chapter are actually a plan I had for a one shot that kinda, erm, drastically mutated.

Chapter 4

Archer watched as Trip's limp form fell and was swallowed by the swirls of white. He immediately tried to move; he had to get to his friend. For a second, he glanced at Malcolm, and then paused. The younger man had a look of pure terror on his face, but it was not the kind of fear that made you freeze. Before Archer could position himself enough to even rise, Malcolm had jumped across the ledge and dived off, clearing the rock and entering the water. In shock and horror, adrenalin made Archer haul himself over to be able to see into the pool, but from this height, and in their dark clothes, he saw nothing.

Not again, not again, not again, not again. The mantra ran through Malcolm's head in a frenzy as he plunged smoothly into the water, forcing his eyes to remain open. The water hit him in the chest with its icy temperature, and the force of the water from above pushed him downwards. Terrified, he whirled around in the water, searching for a shadow, a swirl of red, anything that would show him where Trip was. Forcing more air to leave his lungs, he dived further, until his hand brushed something material. His eyes burned, and his lungs screamed, but he had to get Trip out. He would not…

The weeds whipped at his face as he neared the riverbed, and he tugged on the dead weight, no, the heavy weight, not dead. Kicking with all his energy, Malcolm pulled Trip up with him. They had to reach the surface; they had to reach the air.

The pair broke through the surface, Malcolm gasping, Trip making no sound. A freezing wind slapped at his face as Malcolm manoeuvred Trip so that he could swim them to shore. Dimly, he could hear the Captain yelling. They reached the far bank, and Malcolm hauled Trip up. He wasn't breathing.

Not again. Remember how.

Immediately, Malcolm began compressing over Trip's chest, trying to get him to breathe. After only two compressions, Trip coughed, water spilling from his mouth. Malcolm turned him onto his side, and then collapsed back to sit beside his friend. The world came rushing back; the cold, the wet. He shivered. Trip opened his eyes a slit to regard him. An ugly gash snaked down the Commander's right temple, still trickling blood. For a moment, Trip looked as if he was going to say something, but then his eyes slid shut, and his breathing evened out as he slipped into unconsciousness once more. A voice penetrated Malcolm's mind; Archer, asking about Trip. He sounded scared. Malcolm looked up, "He's okay!" His voice was hoarse, and shook as the reality of what he had done began to set in. Frowning, he tried to steady it, "Can you make it down, sir? The slope isn't too steep this side of the river."

Archer nodded. "There's an easy route just over there." He gestured, "Can you get Trip there? It'll make a good campsite."

Malcolm gathered his thoughts quickly, and began to drag Trip. He seemed heavier than he had before. Archer was right. The small grove of trees created a good defensible point.

A few minutes later, Malcolm realised that he should probably go and help Archer, but his mind seemed to be working behind his body, or vice versa. He frowned, viciously shaking his head to clear his thoughts, and went to help.

Night had long fallen, and their small camp was lit by the moon. The only sound that came room the three men was the shallow breathing of Trip. Malcolm hadn't said a word since long before sunset, and Archer had respected that, but now he wanted, no, needed to know what was going through his officer's head. The man had overcome a phobia in a heartbeat, and that alone made Archer think that there was something more going on, "Thank you."

Malcolm looked up in surprise, not sure how to respond. He didn't want this to be a repeat of the conversation on the hull on the Enterprise. Archer continued, "I know how hard it must have been for you, to overcome your phobia-"

"It's not that kind of phobia." Malcolm interrupted. Crap. Did he just admit that? Even his father had never figured it out, no one had, and here he was, close to admitting it. What was it about this man? How did he manage to do it every time?

Archer frowned, shifting his position; he had a feeling this might take a while, "What to you mean? You told me you were scared of drowning."

Malcolm suddenly found the ground very interesting, "I am. I'm bloody terrified."

"Then what..?"

"You know about phobias, right?" Archer nodded, confused as to where this was going, but Malcolm felt he had to explain; he couldn't picture the Captain being scared of anything, "Well, some are passed down, from parents exhibiting their fears in front of their children. Others arise from a person's own experiences; once burned. Mine is the latter."

Archer nodded, "I thought as much, I doubt your father had aquaphobia?"

Malcolm shook his head, quirking a small smile at the image produced by Archer's statement. He sighed. The best explanations were the simplest, "I'm scared of drowning." He fidgeted, "But I'm terrified of other people drowning, people I love."

Involuntarily, Malcolm closed his eyes, an image flashing through his mind. Gently, Archer spoke, "Why are you scared, Malcolm? It'll help. I'm no psychiatrist, but I'll listen."

For a moment, Archer thought Malcolm was going to clam up and change the subject, but for the second time that day, the younger man surprised him, "By the time I was eight, I could swim like an adult. I was the best in my school and entered regional championships, even national a few times. Madeline - Maddy - my baby sister by a year, was almost as good. Our father had us swimming from a very early age. I loved it."

I've never seen anyone swim that fast!

You'll make a fine addition to the navy, son.

I'm so proud.

Race you, Mal, come on!

"When I was thirteen and Maddy was twelve, our parents finally let us go on the annual activity week run by the school in the autumn half term holidays. I'd been begging to go for ages, and they finally relented when Maddy was old enough to come too."

Come on Dad! Please! You promised!

We'll be fine, Mum, let us go!

You two be safe, listen to the teachers all the time.

You have a great time, you hear?

"The activity week took place in the Brecon Beacons, Wales. It's beautiful there. We did everything – potholing, climbing, kayaking… The day before we were due to leave, my best friend David persuaded me to follow him up to the rapids where the professional canoeists trained; Maddy tagged along."

I bet you could swim that.

Come on David, they're gonna notice we're gone.

Malcolm, come on, let's go back.

Fine, I'll do it, if you're too scared.

"He ran along the jetty and jumped off, right into the rapids."

Maddy, go get help, Now!

"I was so stupid. I jumped in after him. I'd never swum in water like that. It was so cold and pulled you under. I somehow managed to catch a rock and pulled myself onto it. I was near the edge of the river; the water does that, pulls you in all directions. David was floating near the edge, caught, he wasn't moving. I jumped back in. I still don't know how I did it, but I made it and dragged him up the bank."

David! Wake up! Please wake up!

"I didn't know CPR; it was just something they did in movies."

Move over kid; let the man do his job.

"His lips were so blue. They couldn't revive him."

Jesus, did he jump in after that one? He's lucky to be alive.

"I never swam after, much to my father's disgust. He thought I was being stupid, but every time I went near water, all I could see was David's face, staring up at me from the bottom. I've seen what drowning can do to you, and it's bad, but to see someone else drown is worse. When you're drowning, you black out; you don't have to deal with the after effects. You don't have to see your friends drown."

Archer regarded Malcolm with shock. Throughout it all, the smaller man hadn't looked up once, preferring to look at Trip's form instead. He honestly didn't know how to reply. He couldn't imagine going through something like that. He shifted, saying the only thing that came to mind, "You saved Trip."

Malcolm gave a weak half smile, "Not yet I haven't, but thanks for listening anyway."

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: What do you think? You were sort of right in your guess, volley, but I hope I explained it okay. Anyway, please let me hear your opinions, and I'll try and update sooner!