The silence was comforting. The engines no longer hummed and his head seemed to ache less. It was simply quiet.

Malcolm's peace was disrupted by the door of the brig sliding open. He heard a symphony of different voices, loud and intruding on his solitude.

"What the hell-?"

It was Trip. Malcolm would recognize that voice anywhere.

"This is unbelievable."

Captain Archer.

"Captain, I think I found the control panel." A third voice. Female, cool, detached. Subcommander T'Pol.

He heard the sound of a panel being pried open and a few clicks. Something sounded as though it was powering down.

"Son of a bitch."

Trip again. Malcolm sighed inwardly, too sick to respond in any way. It must be time to move him to the Vulcan ship. He had been too cowardly to use the hypospray, to kill himself and settle accounts in the universe.

"Can you get it open?" Archer said.

"Should only take me a minute," Trip replied. "I want to know why they abandoned ship."

"I believe I can answer that Commander," T'Pol called out. Her scanner was whirring and chirping, each note pounding away at Malcolm's head. "The ship is set to self destruct in five minutes."

"Trip…," Malcolm heard Archer urged.

Self destruct? They can't open the cell? Malcolm frowned. What was going on?

"Captain, I think I found one of their databases," T'Pol said.

"Great. Gather what you can and we can have Hoshi translate it. Archer to Enterprise."

"Yes sir."

"Hoshi, meet us in shuttlebay 2. I want you to figure out what are in these data modules we're bringing back with us."

"Yes sir."

That voice. That sweet, lilting voice. It was Hoshi. Hoshi!

"Got it open!"

Malcolm tried to raise his head but could do little more than turn it upwards to look up at the men who rushed into his cell and hovered over him. He gazed blearily up at Trip and Archer who strangely wore looks that appeared to be concern. But Trip and the Captain hated him. Why would they be worried about him now?

"Malcolm!" the Captain called out, his voice laden with anxiety.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"We gotcha you buddy," Trip said as he and the Captain hauled him to his feet. Reed saw the Captain glance down at something on the floor and watched as the other man picked up the hypospray. A flicker of fear ran through him. Was this some game to torture him and were Trip and the Captain going to administer the lethal injection themselves? The Captain had said he thought the hypospray was too easy of a way out for Malcolm. Were they going to do something else to him? Malcolm thought to struggle, but his limbs would not respond and he simply sagged between the two other men like a limp, rag doll.

"T'Pol!" Archer snapped out. "Get to the shuttle and prep it for launch. We're right behind you."

"Aye Captain," the Vulcan replied. "We have three minutes and twenty-five seconds." She turned on her heel and ran out of the room, carrying several small cubes filled with information.

Malcolm felt himself lifted up to his feet, Trip and the Captain supporting him on either side. They rushed him out of the brig and down a long corridor, almost carrying him completely, his feet just barely grazing the floor. The walls they passed were but a pale blur. Malcolm felt his head spin and he wanted to protest being moved so quickly but he seemed unable to speak.

They reached the shuttle and hustled him inside. As Trip strapped him into a seat, Archer took over flight controls. Malcolm felt the shuttle disengage from the other ship he had been on and bank sharply, his stomach roiled queasily and from the look Trip gave him and his involuntarily flinching knew the Southerner feared Malcolm was about to give him an unpleasant surprise. The Commander's reaction almost made Malcolm laugh, had he the strength and energy to.

"How long before it blows, T'Pol?" Archer called out.

"One minute, ten seconds."

"We'll be out of range by then. Enterprise, this is the Captain, make sure Phlox is in the shuttlebay to meet us."

Malcolm heard the whirl of a medical scanner and he gazed wearily at Subcommander T'Pol.

"How is he?" Trip asked anxiously. He gave Malcolm a reassuring smile, but still maintained a bit of distance.

"I'm detecting numerous foreign toxins in his system," the Vulcan replied as she examined the results.

"Don't worry, buddy," Trip said to Malcolm, finally venturing to give his friend a reassuring pat on his leg. "The Doc will get you all patched up."

Buddy? Malcolm blinked. Trip hated him. Trip wanted to kill him for what he did to Hoshi. They were taking him to the Vulcan ship, weren't they?

He saw Trip and T'Pol watching him. All Malcolm could do was blink stupidly again at them. His head hurt too much to form a coherent thought.

He felt the shuttle rock.

"Shockwaves from the ship exploding," Archer called out over his shoulder. "We're clear though."

"Why isn't he talking?" Trip asked T'Pol, concerned about Malcolm's continued silence.

"We cannot be certain the affects of the substances in his system are having on Lieutenant Reed," the Subcommander replied. "It would be best to wait for Dr. Phlox."

Substances? But Phlox had cleared him. They found nothing in his system to explain why he had attacked Hoshi. Malcolm frowned. But he had heard Hoshi's voice a few minutes ago. She came to visit him in his cell.

Malcolm groaned as his ever-present headache began to pound again. The heels of his hands went to his eyes and he pressed them hard against the orbs, rubbing them frantically.

"Captain," Trip called out anxiously. He reached forward to gently pull Malcolm's hands away from his eyes.

"We're here!" Archer called out in response.

It took them a few minutes to dock and re-pressurize the shuttlebay. The Captain and Trip gently helped Reed to his feet and out of the shuttle.

Malcolm stood still for a moment, blinking in the bright lights of the shuttlebay. As his eyes focused, he saw Dr. Phlox walking towards him. But he caught a glimpse of a slight figure behind the larger one of the doctor's. Malcolm's attention riveted on her.

Hoshi.

A dream, Malcolm thought. Another wonderful, beautiful, painful dream.

He saw her smile hesitantly at him; that smile that could break a dozen hearts. Even if it was a dream, he had to touch her one last time.

Malcolm shrugged off the supporting hands of Archer and Tucker. Without their help, he lurched forward. Phlox hurried over to help him, but he slapped away the Doctor's hands. On unsteady feet, he made his way over to Hoshi who had not moved. He stopped right before her.

She continued to smile at him.

"Hoshi?" his hoarse whisper sounded grating and harsh to his own ears.

Malcolm reached out with a trembling hand to gently stroke Hoshi's cheek. He saw her eyes widen in surprise, but she didn't pull away or disappear in a cloud of smoke. He saw her look to a point behind him, a question on her face. Most likely, she was addressing her silent query to the Captain.

Her skin was soft and smooth and warm. Malcolm's fingers trailed down to gently trace the rosebud outline of her lips. Still she remained there. She didn't vanish. She wasn't a ghost or some figment of his imagination.

Hoshi was alive.

Overwhelmed, Malcolm fell forward to embrace her tightly. His tears began and he could not control them. Over and over he murmured her name in her hair, apologizing for his transgressions, inhaling her warm, alive scent as his body shuddered violently with his sobs.

His knees buckled and his weight dragged Hoshi down with him. They sank gently to the floor into a kneeling position. He could feel her body, rigid and uncertain, but he didn't care if she hated him for grabbing her. She was alive!

Then he felt her soften. Her slim arms wrapped around his body and gently held him. Her hands caressed his hair and back, all the while as she softly whispered gentle words of comfort in his ear.