Underpinned or Undermined

"He's sedated again. He was pretty upset when he woke, frantic really, and Doc didn't want him so distressed so he put him down for the count. Said it would be counterproductive to healing to have him so distraught, he didn't want the stitches in his gut to get ripped out. Doc expects it'll be four to six hours before he wakes again. And, sir I'll need to use kid gloves. It was … ah … disturbing." Chip was standing in Nelson's cabin and was feeling pretty distressed himself at what he had to say.

Nelson's cheek twitched. He was appalled by the account of Lee's reaction on awaking and was grieving for Lee's peace of mind. The Admiral looked terrible, grey and hollow eyed. Chip was pretty sure he only cared about Lee at the moment, didn't care about the trouble he was in.

"Sir, when he wakes I will see how he's doing, try to get him to understand."

"Chip, I don't want you to upset him. Don't do anything to upset him. He's been through enough."

"But, sir he will need to understand, if he did he would exonerate you."

"No, leave him be. Let him heal. I'll make sure he is compensated for what I did, medical expenses, physical therapy, counselling, pain and suffering, everything. Just don't do anything or say anything to hurt him more."

Morton looked at the Admiral in silence. The Admiral was willing to lose everything for saving the boat and crew. Lose everything for saving what Lee himself would have given everything to save. Chip determined that his job was to make the Admiral and Lee both understand whether they wanted to understand or not.

After Chip left the Admiral sank into the chair at his desk. He felt completely overwhelmed with grief and broken inside. He needed to see Lee. He needed to lay his hand on Lee's forehead and feel that he was alive. He needed to hear his voice to know it was Lee Crane and not Krueger. Not an empty husk. He dropped his head into his hands, shaking his head back and forth in despair. He had gambled to save his men and won. He had gambled his best friendship and lost.

From Chip's description of Lee's awakening he figured that the only time he would ever see Lee again was across a room at the court martial, if then. He lifted his head looking at his hands. Those hands had taken the gun, aimed it, and fired it. Yes, that shot saved his boat and crew but at what cost? To Lee, to Chip, to the men, even the Institute. All would pay that price.

How do you bargain with a ghost and not lose? In hindsight he wondered if they might all have been better off dead. No heartache. No regret. No guilt.

He sighed in despair. What had he done?

"Lee. How're you doing?" Chip asked.

Lee, resting in standard Fowler's position looking pale and tired, opened his eyes, glanced sidelong at Chip and managed a wan smile. "I'm not dead." His eyes were heavy. He thought about how he felt and didn't elaborate for Chip. He felt drained and debilitated, there was no energy in him. Every motion he made was lethargic, weak, and pain-filled. Not what he wanted to tell Chip.

Chip could see for himself though and covered his disquiet over Lee's lassitude with a cheerful smile. "Well I'm very glad of that buddy. You gave us all a scare."

Lee scoffed lightly then grew serious. "I think I slugged you … ?"

"No, Lee that wasn't you. That was Krueger."

Morton was suddenly apprehensive as he saw Lee pale even more if that was possible for someone who was already so ashen.

"I'm sorry, Chip. Are you okay?"

"Lee it wasn't you and I'm fine."

"I think that's my line." There was the very faintest hint of a smile under the deadly serious eyes.

"Well this time it's mine, and it's not a line it's the truth."

The two men were busily telling each other, without actually saying it, that they were glad of the other. Their mutual caring silently underpinned the light banter of those last comments.

Chip wasn't quite sure how much conversation Lee could tolerate and before Lee tired to the point of exhaustion Chip needed to turn the conversation to the problem of the shooting.

"Lee? Can you tell me what you remember about … when the … about being shot?

Lee turned his head away and closed his eyes. He knew Chip had to ask and that he would have to answer, if not now then sometime. The need for him to give his account, meagre as it was, was inevitable. But god, the betrayal hurt. Nelson had been his rock in an ever changing world. He had trusted his life to Nelson many times and that trust had been misplaced.

He felt shattered and not just in his body. His life was in chaos, everything in shambles. His foundations crumbled. He had thought he had a life-long friend in the Admiral. Not so. The special something in that relationship that seemed to him almost family-like was an illusion. He had presumed. How had he hoped for that? He had been so wrong. He thought how needy or incomplete he must be within himself to imagine a friendship. He had made up an imaginary friend! Oh god, he felt empty. His thoughts were not something to share with Chip. That pain was his alone.

Lee sighed. He would have to say words out loud. Might as well get it over with. Without turning his head or opening his eyes he said aloud what he never wanted to say. "Not much. I was looking through the periscope. I turned to toggle the switch to lower the 'scope. I felt the thud. I knew it was bad. Really bad. I could tell. I looked in the direction the shot had come from. It was the Admiral … pointing the gun … he was looking at me … " Lee's voice trailed off. Another sigh escaped edging on a groan. "Oh god, Chip. The Admiral."

Chip reached out and laid his hand on Lee's shoulder. There was nothing to say. There was no comfort to offer for that.