A/N: Oh, thank you so much for these first and very kind reviews. They're all very much appreciated!

I see I'm not the only one who felt Jon was unjustly harsh towards Trip, especially when he was in such need of his Captain's support. He'll be facing the consequences of that harshness throughout the story - and for all you angst lovers out there, both he and Trip will go through loads of that too! But, for now, Jon has to face some very worrying news.

Thanks again, to everyone who are following this story. I hope you all continue to enjoy it!

Aftermath

Chapter Two - Unthinkable Acts

"He was doing what?!"

Jonathan Archer stared at his security chief, struggling to digest what Malcolm Reed had just told him.

The epitome of British reserve, he took everything seriously. Rarely, if ever, joked about anything. If he'd said the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny were real, his Captain would have still believed it. Hell, he'd have believed they'd asked the Klingons over for Thanksgiving, long before he believed this. What Malcolm had told him, it was… no, it wasn't possible. It couldn't be true. He had to be mistaken.

Another glance into Malcolm's face told him otherwise, forcing him to accept the unthinkable truth.

"Let me get this straight. You've just seen Trip trying to open Deck E's airlock?"

From a grimly silent nod, he felt a week's worth of niggling worry ratch itself up to all out alarm. Trip would know, more than anyone, that opening any of their airlocks would have killed him instantly. Malcolm knew it too, and was understandably rattled that his friend would do anything so suicidal

"Yes, sir, he – he seemed almost in a trance. Said he was just checking it for microbreaches, but…"

Realizing he'd made his point, Malcolm paused, hesitated, before he quietly completed his duty.

"Captain, I haven't had any reports of a malfunction, or any kind of threat to its integrity. There was no reason whatsoever for him to be inside that airlock."

Expecting nothing less from one of his most trusted senior officers, Jon tried to show his approval. His thoughts still consumed by the actions of another, though, he just couldn't do it. Hell, it was all he could do to breathe right now.

This wasn't the first, or only, report he'd had on his chief engineer's increasingly erratic behaviour. Hoshi had seen it first, in the mess hall the previous morning. It had left her as shaken as her Captain.

Oblivious to her presence, and everything else around him, Trip had sat staring at the knife in his hand. Running his fingers along its blade, over and over again, before resting its edge against his wrist.

He'd kept it there, motionless, until a burst of laughter from another table snapped him out of it. Placing it calmly back on his plate, he'd stood and walked past her, his eyes blank, his face a mask.

That had been yesterday. Then there'd been Ensign Kelsey's equally unsettling account from last night. Completing his checks on the reactor's coolant conduits, he'd chanced to look up and behind him – as shocked as he was startled by the sight of his CO, staring down at him from the walkway above.

In the young ensign's words, Trip's reaction to him, or rather the lack of it, had really freaked him out.

Leaning over the rail, he'd studied the floor below with unnatural interest, and unnerving intent. If he didn't know better, Mike Kelsey had said, he'd have sworn he was marking where he'd land. Calculating its distance. Evaluating its effectiveness, if he were about to do the unthinkable.

Before he could say anything, though, Trip had strode away without a word of explanation, leaving one of the youngest members of his team to wonder what, if anything, he'd just done wrong.

Part their CO, part their big brother, Trip had always made a point of encouraging his junior officers – especially those like Kelsey who, as he'd proudly told his Captain, was another chief engineer in the making. So when he'd come to his Captain for advice and reassurance, Jon could only share his puzzlement. For him to just walk away like that, without a word… no, this wasn't the Trip Tucker he knew so well.

And now this.

Of all the reports he'd had about his chief engineer, this was the one that shook Jon the most. As if possessed by an unseen force, Trip had gone through the motions of committing suicide. Each time, thank God, something had made him stop. Something had pulled him back from the brink. But from what he'd just heard, that saving grace was losing the fight to keep his closest friend from… from… oh, God.

A knot of cold fear settled in the pit of Jon's stomach. What if it had already happened? What if, as he and Malcolm had stood discussing it now, Trip had already…?

'Oh, God… Trip…'

"Sir?"

Malcolm's quiet voice broke Jon out of his thoughts, bringing him back to share the equally terrifying demands of the here and now. The utterly unthinkable.

"I'd try hailing him, sir, but… well, in his frame of mind, I don't want to risk antagonising him."

Still struggling to believe what his tactical officer was implying, Jon forced out a shakily quiet reply.

"It's okay, Malcolm, I'll - I'll find him. I'll take care of it."

Nodding his acknowledgement, Malcolm offered him a tight smile before he stepped through the door. He hadn't said it aloud, of course, but Jon had still heard what his friend, and Trip's, had been thinking.

'About bloody time!'

Once he'd left, Jon felt his conscience join forces with his concern, and they both hit him brutally hard. The friend he saw as a surrogate brother was falling apart, and… damn it…! He hadn't even noticed.

Well, he'd been forced to take notice now, and the thought of what it could cost him was… no. No, he refused to believe it. There was no way in hell that he was going to let Trip Tucker kill himself.

Praying he hadn't left it too late, and set with fresh resolve, Jon set off on one of the most critical missions of his life. Another's life, Trip's life, was on the line. And even if it meant searching every inch of his ship, he was going to find him.