Edging Toward an Encounter

It was another day. Another conversation. Chip was determined that as soon as Lee was strong enough to handle more than a five minute visit he would broach the subject of the shooting again.

Chip did a lot of soul searching during that time of waiting. He questioned whether his determination to make sure Lee heard and hopefully understood Admiral Nelson's side of the story was for the Admiral's sake, for Lee's sake, or for his own.

He had believed the Admiral enough to let him out of sickbay, let him off the boat, and fire a missile. Perhaps he just needed to have someone else hear and approve his actions. Did he just want Lee to condone his decisions? Feel justified by Lee's acceptance of them? He had enough doubts in his own mind about why he did what he did. Perhaps he just craved for Lee to hear it for his own comfort and peace of mind. That was disturbing. Wasn't Lee, brutally injured as he was, the one who should be getting the emotional support?

Well, thought Chip, at least I am aware enough to ask myself the questions. His questioning wouldn't stop him from talking to Lee though.

He had been chatting with Lee for a few minutes already and didn't want to leave what he needed to discuss any longer or Lee would be too spent to talk about it. The time was now.

"Lee. I need to talk to you about the Admiral."

"No. Please, Chip, don't."

"I know it's hard but it's something we need to talk about and soon."

"Chip." Lee's voice was pained.

"Lee, we're stationkeeping until I have enough information to chart my next course of action. I really need to talk with you about it."

Lee cringed then sighed. He needed to suck it up and be a man. That's what being in command was about wasn't it? The buck stopped here. Just because he didn't want to do it didn't mean he could duck his way out. "All right." Somehow that didn't come out as commanding and incisive as he had hoped.

Chip breathed a sigh of relief and braced himself to start. "Okay. So, Lee what I really want you to do is meet with the Admiral. Listen to what he has to say. I can't explain the way he can because it isn't my story. It's his story to tell." Chip stopped as Lee turned his head away. "Lee?"

"I … " Lee looked back at Chip his eyes, shiny with unshed tears, were intent and full of grief. "I … I don't know how to do that, Chip."

"Right." Chip's shoulders sank. He would have to figure this out on his own.

Lee seeing that sinking posture of solitary pain swore. "Dammit, Chip." His broken heart melted for Chip. It had been a long mission; the men had all been looking forward to going home before they ever encountered Krueger. The men needed to get home. He couldn't face doing it for himself but Chip was carrying the crushing burden alone. Stationkeeping and waiting for him. He had to do it for Chip. For Chip and the men.

Doc was checking the Captain who had been very quiet and withdrawn since Chip's visit with him not long before.

"Doc? Did Chip tell you what he wants? The Admiral to meet with me?" Crane was ducking his head in disinclination to speak about this but glanced up at the Doc from under his lashes.

"Yes he did, sir. I'm sorry. Do you think you are up for it?"

Crane lifted and shook his head. He had his most solemn and serious command face on now.

Doc knew the Captain was bracing himself hard just to talk to him about it. How was Crane ever going to manage a meeting with the Admiral? But Mr. Morton was right. The best way to address the outstanding problem was to have the two of them meet and talk.

"I'll have to be. But, Doc … I don't want anyone else there."

"Sir, do you think that's wise? Shouldn't someone be there to witness what is said? Or to act as a buffer if it's uncomfortable?"

Crane shook his head. "Just me and the Admiral, Doc. I won't do it otherwise."

"Right." Doc thought about it a bit. "I'll speak with Mr. Morton, let him know your thoughts on that. We'll see what he thinks."

The Captain looked determined his iron will showing through the fatigue in his eyes. "If Mr. Morton wants me to do this it will be on my terms. That's how it's going to be."

Chip was in the Admiral's cabin looking very troubled. "Captain Crane has agreed to meet with you but, sir, he's more than apprehensive about it. Sir, I think he's terrified. Honestly I don't think he would have agreed except he feels it would somehow help me. I really doubt he would do it at this time for you or for himself."

Nelson looked rather shattered by that comment. He mused on that. Lee wouldn't do it except to help Chip. That said a lot.

"I don't know if he will listen or talk to you, sir. I think the ball will be in your court and he might terminate the meeting at any point … " Morton's uncertainty on whether this would have any good result was apparent.

"Fine, Chip. As I have said before, it's all up to Lee. I'll do what I can to explain but it's his choice to meet, to listen, or to call it off at any point. It's up to him."

"Okay. That's it then. And Admiral I want you to be handcuffed. I'm sorry, sir, that's not something Lee stipulated, that's my requirement. If I have completely misread you, sir that's on me but I do need to ensure Lee's safety, especially if you are alone together behind closed doors."

"Very well, Chip."

Chip watched with compassion as the corpsman helped an apprehensive Lee settle carefully into the chair set up in the emptied sick bay ward. Lee had insisted he wear his uniform out of personal pride. Thompson moved the table to set it at a comfortable distance rather than moving the Skipper's chair up to the table. He didn't want to jostle the Skipper who already looked exhausted by the effort of getting dressed and this far.

Chip set the call button on the table between Lee's hands. Chip's command face was taut with the tension of arranging and managing this encounter. "Lee just a touch on this will bring us in. If you feel unsafe, unwell, or unable to continue for any reason just push the button. I'll be just outside the door and will be in here in a second. Got it?"

Lee nodded his head faintly then sat with his head down looking at his hands on the table as he steeled himself. This coming encounter with Admiral Nelson loomed up before him like a Mount Everest, impossibly daunting and forbidding. He sat tense and still, feeling the fear sweat trickling down his back. Damn, his shirt was sweat stained before the meeting even started. A muscle in his jaw jumped and he swallowed compulsively from the tension.

The door opened. He looked up.