"Mr. Reed," Archer said as Malcolm stood up to greet his Captain.
"Sir," he returned weakly. Phlox had come back to give him another injection, but he felt little better than when he first woke up in the brig.
"Mr. Mayweather informed me of your conversation with him." When Malcolm remained silent, Archer continued. "I want to say that I'm surprised, but I can't honestly do that."
"I hand picked the crew for this mission, Lieutenant," Archer said as he folded his arms across his chest. Malcolm noticed how much larger Archer seemed to grow, taller and broader. Was Archer always this much bigger than himself? Or did the Captain's anger seem to make him appear even more larger than life? "There were some doubts about you, your loner attitude, but I ignored that because of your top-notch qualifications." He stepped closer to the bars. "But never in a million years did I ever peg you for a murdering bastard!"
Malcolm involuntarily took a step back, almost stumbling. Never had he heard such venom come from Jonathan Archer. Waves of hate rolled off the taller man so strongly Reed thought he could physically feel them.
The Captain stared back at the armory officer with hatred and cold fury in his eyes, turning their normal warm green shade into cold, hard crystal. "Hoshi was the most important person in my life and you took her away from me. I loved her and she loved me, but you couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand not having her."
"Sir, I'm sorry-," Malcolm stammered, shocked by the confirmation of his suspicions and more than a little frightened by this change in the man he so admired and liked. This depth of anger and complete disgust and contempt was just so unlike Archer, it was as if it was a different person.
"You want to kill yourself, fine," Archer snarled out. "Because a sack of shit like you isn't worth the expense of a trial." He withdrew a hypospray from a pocket in his uniform and threw it onto the cell floor where it rolled gently towards Malcolm's feet, stopping a mere three inches from the toes of his boots. "My only regret is that you aren't going to die a slow and painful death."
Malcolm stared blankly at the hypospray and then looked up at the Captain.
"You're worthless, Lieutenant. You didn't deserve to be on this ship and you didn't deserve to know Hoshi," Archer spat out. His hands trembled with fury as they hung at his sides, twitching as though it took all of his self-control to not reach forward to strangle Malcolm. "I want you to remember how many lives you destroyed, how much pain you've caused. You've brought nothing but trouble, Reed. I hope there is some afterlife so you can spend an eternity burning in hell!"
Archer turned on his heel, slammed on the release that opened the brig's door and left quickly.
Malcolm stared silently at the door that had closed behind the Captain. Archer's words rang in his head. If there was one man whose respect and good opinion he valued, it was Jonathan Archer's. But, once again, he had fouled things up. His father's voice came back to him again.
Not that way, Malcolm! Can't you do anything right, boy?
You'll never get anywhere, Malcolm. My God! You're such a clumsy oaf!
Starfleet? Starfleet? Reed men have always been Navy! But then again, it is you. No doubt you'll muck that up as well.
Malcolm covered his ears in an attempt to block out the sound of his father's voice, but he couldn't. The years of harsh words between the two replayed over and over in his head. His father must feel vindicated now; the son he had always thought was a bad lot was proving the old man right.
He still could not remember what had led up to the incident in the armory. Why had he suddenly tried to force himself onto Hoshi? Yes, he had always liked her and found her attractive, but there was always that nagging suspicion about her relationship with the Captain. He was a cautious man and it would have been insane of him to try to make a play for the Captain's woman. It didn't make any sense!
The pounding in his head increased and he swore softly. The hypospray, glinting brightly in the cell's lights caught his eye.
End it all and everyone would be happy. After all, that is what they wanted, his death; an eye for an eye. His family would not have to live with the shame should he survive. Maybe for a few months they would have to endure it and then it would be forgotten. Not like having a son in prison for years acting as a constant reminder. Archer made it clear that he wanted Malcolm dead as did Trip.
Who in the universe gave a damn if Malcolm Reed died today?