Tucker

Leaving Malcolm alone with the sheriff, I make my way downstairs.

Hoshi and Mom are in the kitchen. Luckily none of the family were woken by the noise we made or by the emergency services arriving (they must have switched their lights and sirens off as they turned in the drive Sunday night, probably just being considerate to the folks around), so they took themselves off yesterday morning, still without a clue that anything had happened, thank the Almighty. I daresay they'll find out when the case hits the papers, but in the meantime we don't want to have to face the barrage of questions, and we just shooed them away as quickly and politely as possible. I know Catherine was looking a bit sulky as she left, because we've hardly had a chance to talk, but she's only away on vacation for a couple of days, and I hadn't the energy to care. I'll make it up to her another time.

"He's awake."

"Finally. Thank god for that." A little of the strain dies out of Hoshi's face as she turns from the sink; she's been chopping vegetables, which is probably one way to let out some of her emotions. Come to think of it, anyone needing a turnip chopping in half could just give me a cleaver right now and stand back. All I'd have to do is picture Carl's face on it and it'd be in two pieces before you could say 'whip'.

"They said he'd sleep for a good while, honey." Mom's been baking. She's like me, she can't stay still when she's upset, and the work surfaces are covered with the results: loaves of bread, pies and tarts, more than we could eat if the whole family turned up for dinner. We'll have to give some away to the neighbors, unless we can pack it in one of the freezers.

"I know. But it's been more than thirty-eight hours!"

"A body gets itself well in its own time, sweetheart. Isn't nothing you can do to hurry it. The paramedic said he'd wake up when he was good 'n ready."

Hoshi looks mulish. "I still think he should have gone to hospital."

"They've got more'n they know what to do with already in County. Best for him if he stays here where we can look after him. I've nursed a good few people in my time and ain't none of them died on me yet. Your Lieutenant's a young man and he's strong. He'll get over this." She pours out a coffee and pushes it across the table towards me. "Sit yourself down, Trip. You look worn out, and it won't do anyone no good if you make yourself sick on top of everything else."

Well, she has a point. And I could do with a good strong cup of coffee. I sit down at the floury table and take a cautious sip.

It's good and strong all right – she evidently isn't afraid of killing me with a caffeine overdose. That said, it was all that kept me on my feet for more hours than I care to remember after Enterprise took that pounding at Azati Prime; if it was going to kill me I'd have been dead before we got out of there.

"You have one too, honey." Mom pours out a cup for Hoshi. "Now I've got the two of you here and he's awake so you can stop worryin' about him, there's a couple 'a questions I'd like to ask."

Hoshi and I exchange wary glances. We've been expecting this, and we've got to be careful. Mom's nobody's fool.

My co-conspirator sits down beside me, and Mom sits opposite us. Her hands are still coated in flour, but I can still see that her knuckles are swollen; I think irrelevantly that it's doubtful whether her wedding ring would come off without being cut.

"Now I know Carl's always been a strange boy in some ways," Mom starts slowly. "His dad leavin' hit him hard, and Carol wasn't as good a mom as she could have been."

I say nothing. My cousin's family life wasn't anywhere near as good as mine, but it's not like he didn't have anyone. And he had the same chances at school as I did. He just didn't choose to take them.

Maybe I'm being unfair, but right now I think fairness is a tough thing to ask.

"I think he was jealous of you, Trip. Jealous of your success, the way you got on with everyone, did so well in your exams…"

"Every goddamn thing I worked my ass off for," I spit. "What's that got to do with the price o'cheese? Wasn't my fault he didn't want to put in the effort, would rather go runnin' round with Hal Lazenby's bunch of little thugs. I saved his ass more'n once, and he didn't even thank me for it. Don't even try to tell me I should feel sorry for the little prick."

Her mouth folds inward momentarily at the swear-word, but she doesn't try to argue. "You were gifted, Trip, even when you were little. You still are. Not just the engineering part of it. You make people like you, you even make them love you, and you don't even have to try. Carl never had that, and it's not something you learn. You have to be born with it."

"So that gives him the right to whip an innocent man half to death?" I yell, jerking to my feet.

She looks back at me steadily. "Why would he want to do that, Trip?"

I hold her stare. I have to. "Same reason Dad didn't want me to interfere. The both of them blame Malcolm for not shootin' hell outa the Xindi.

"Jesus. I'll tell you, Mom, and I'd tell Dad and I'd tell anyone else who wants to know, if the cap'n had said the word Malcolm'd've fired every damn torpedo on Enterprise, he'd have fired the cannons 'til the relays fused, he'd have flown the damn ship into the Xindi homeworld if that's what it took. But the cap'n never said the word, and you know what, I'm glad he didn't, because killin' millions of innocent people on their world wouldn't have brought back a single one of ours.

"Yeah. It took me a while to realize that, and maybe sometimes even now I don't believe it, but it's the goddamn truth. And to realize that Lizzie was the last person in the world to want me to get revenge for her. You remember what she always used to say? 'Revenge is like bitin' the dog because the dog bit you.'

"I wanted revenge when we shipped out lookin' for the Xindi. I wanted it more than anything else in the world. 'Far as I was concerned, that was what we were goin' for – to kick back, and kick as hard as we could. But there was one guy on the ship who didn't let himself get cruel an' vindictive. One guy who didn't want to just kill the Xindi because they were there. One decent guy who tried to talk to me about Lizzie, who was brave enough an' kind enough to risk gettin' his head bitten off for it. And that's the guy who's lyin' up there–" I jerk my thumb towards the ceiling – "with half his back torn off by one of my family while my dad knew it was happenin' and tried to stop me puttin' a stop to it!"

Hoshi's hand has slipped into mine. I get back control of myself with a gulp of coffee and sit down again, my eyes burning.

Mom hasn't moved. "I don't doubt that," she says quietly. "But that doesn't answer the question of how Carl got the drop on your friend to start with.

"I've got eyes in my head, Trip. Your Lieutenant Reed is a very fit young man. He's head of Security on your ship, he knows how to handle himself in a difficult situation. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, he'd drop the likes of Carl without so much as breakin' sweat. But this was the hundredth time, and I want to know why.

"The paramedics didn't find any evidence of any drugs, and I saw when we changed the dressings he'd been tied up like a hog. What I can't understand is how he let himself get into that situation, him bein' the officer I think he is.

"Now I know Carl has a gun, like most of the people around here. It was still in his room that night, after he'd been taken away. I checked.

"So that leaves the question, and I'm askin' you if you have an answer."

Hoshi squeezes my hand.

This is all going to come out sooner or later, and best she hears it from me.

I know that till we get to talk to Malcolm (Carl sure as hell isn't going to tell me the truth, even if he ever has the brass neck to show his face around here again) the best I have is a theory. But it's a theory that fits the facts, and till I find out otherwise I'm running with it.

"Because I think the stupid sonofabitch got it into his head that Malcolm and I are lovers, and I'm guessin' he threatened to tell everyone about it. Make trouble for Starfleet, break me and Hoshi up, and get me a disciplinary for fraternizin' with a junior officer. He probably blackmailed Malcolm into meetin' him down in the stable, and after that …." After that he was going to rape him, but the words won't come out of my mouth even now.

Mom still hasn't moved. Her eyes hold me; she can sense the evasion. "He thought you and Lieutenant Reed were lovers."

I take a chance. "That's what Malcolm told us."

There's a pause that seems to last a lifetime. Then she asks the question I've prayed she won't.

"And is it true?"

I have to say no, I have to protect us, I have to protect my family. I have to lie and deny something that's as much a part of me as the heart beating in my chest.

"Yes." I swallow. "When we went to that club, we … we kissed afterwards. It was my fault, I was stupid. An' I think Malcolm … he acted like he'd seen someone, though he didn't let on. And the next day, after lunch, Carl followed him down to the lake – you remember, Malcolm came back wet through. I think that was when Carl put the squeeze on him."

I swallow again, and lift my head; I've done nothing to be ashamed of and I'm through denying what I feel. "I love Malcolm. And I think he let Carl do what he did because it was the only way to protect me."

Hoshi's hand tightens on mine as my world falls apart in the silence that follows.

Finally, "Trip, I wouldn't have believed you if you'd denied there was something between you."

For a moment I can't believe I've heard the words right. I just sit there blinking at her, my mouth open like a Hallowe'en pumpkin. "You … you don't…"

"Mind?" She smiles sadly. "You can't help who you love, Trip."

We both think of the man upstairs who hasn't gotten out of his bed since Pastor Newman finally helped us coax him into it around sunup yesterday morning. Somehow she has to go on loving someone who'd wink at the brutalizing of a helpless young man who'd eaten her food and admired her plants. And somehow she'll do it, too.

I'm not sure I can, but that's something I've got to think about.

There's a knock on the door.

It's not what I want to deal with right now, but maybe we need some time to get a grip on this new situation. Hoshi gets up and opens it, and Sherriff Harris enters the kitchen.

"I apologize if I'm intruding," he says in his gravelly voice. "I just thought you'd appreciate an update on the current situation."

"Certainly, we'd be very grateful." Mom invites him to sit down, and offers him a coffee, both of which he refuses.

"Thank you, Ma'am, but I have a busy day in front of me. You may be interested to know that your nephew has made a statement admitting to blackmail, assault and grievous bodily harm."

She inclines her head. We expected that. Maybe I'm the only person who suspects there was another charge in the list, one with 'indecent' attached, but that for some reason of his own the sheriff's withholding that one.

"However," Harris continues, "the police are dropping all charges."

"WHAT?" Hoshi and I jump to our feet.

His deep eyes survey us blandly. "Lieutenant Reed refuses to press charges or to give evidence in a court of law."

"Sonofabitch! He can't do that! Can't we do anything?"

I swear there's almost a smile on his face as he looks back at me. "You can try to change his mind, Commander. He knows how to get in touch with me if he wants to."

Me, change Malcolm's mind once it's made up. Yeah. Bring it on.

"So Carl just gets away scot-free?" Hoshi cries indignantly.

The dark gaze switches to her, but it's not smiling anymore. "For the present, perhaps, Ensign Sato. But maybe not for long."

There's something in the chilling way these words are said that gives me pause.

"At any rate, Ma'am," – Harris has moved towards the door, but glances back at Mom – "there's at least one good side to the situation. Nobody knows who doesn't need to know. I believe it'll be best for all concerned if we keep it that way."

She doesn't even pretend not to understand him. "I appreciate that thought, officer."

"My pleasure, Ma'am." He nods to me and to Hoshi, and takes his leave.

When he's gone, there's a long silence.

Once again, Mom's the one to break it. "Well, Trip, there's one thing this proves for certain.

"Whatever you feel for him, that young man upstairs certainly loves you."

Something's still wrong. I look at Hoshi, who stares back at me steadily; not prompting, not forbidding, just accepting whatever I choose to do.

I take a deep breath. "Mom, I'm through hidin'. There's something else you need to know…"

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