July 1st, 2166

Spacecraft Merlin

Interstellar Space

Trip stared at the blank screen, his heart rate picking up with each second that ticked by. Could a heart beat so fast that it burst through a chest? If there hadn't been a documented case yet, Trip might be the first. What a way to get into the history books, if anyone ever found the body. He shook his head, as if that could dispel the stray thoughts. How long has he been staring at the blank screen? A minute? An hour? A day? He worried that if he blinked he would miss T'Pol's face appearing on the screen. By now, his heart could probably be picked up by the scanners of passing ships. The blank screen stared back at him, taunting.

Was this the end? He had said in the message 'if willing to talk'; perhaps she wasn't willing to talk. He'd given her a way out, and she'd taken it. He was such an idiot. As he leaned away from the screen, he realized that he had been crowding it, waiting with bated breath, like a child waiting to open a present on their birthday. He weaved his fingers together behind his head as he leaned back, sighing deeply. He had pushed her too far this time. Was this proof that she didn't love him enough? Or was it proof that he had taken advantage of her love? He had lied to her, pushed her away, and had vanished without a trace. But somehow he still expected her to be there on the screen, just because he sent her a few sentences? If she had done the same thing to him, he liked to think he would have shown up. He had in the past; when she'd broken his heart, he had handed her the pieces and asked her to put them back together. Even when she had given him no hope, and he had lied to himself that he didn't care, he was always there. But when he asked himself if he really would have showed up if she'd vanished for months without a word; and then out of the blue, messaged him, and asked to meet? He wasn't so sure anymore. Because who does that to the person they claim to love? How is lying to someone, love? How is avoiding someone for months on end, love? How is taking off with an Orion woman, alone, and not reaching out to one's partner, love? Trip tasted salt on his lips, belatedly becoming aware of the tears that were trailing down his cheeks.

What kind of person does what he did to the woman he loves? Another blow to the notion that Trip Tucker still existed. Another part of him shriveled up and gone, all because he was a selfish prick.

Trip sniffled, tears still streaming down his face steadily now. No point in waiting any longer, it was clear that T'Pol wasn't coming. Trip wiped his running nose on one back of one hand, and reached to turn the screen off with the other. He hesitated, hand wavering over the power button. If he turned off the screen, it was admitting that this was it, the point of no return. He chuckled darkly. What the hell did pressing the button have to do with it? It was over whether or not the screen was on or off. He supposed that was the naive Trip trying to reassert himself, only to be trampled down harshly by the real Trip once again. The Trip that had learned the truth about the world; that hope made him vulnerable, and he couldn't afford to be vulnerable. He steeled himself, finger over the button, and moved to press it down.

"Trip." – that was T'Pol's voice. He had hallucinated her voice so many times over the years, in times of distress. When he thought he would never see her again, would never get to hold her again. Of course he would hallucinate her at a time like this; when he truly would never see or hear from her again. He would only hear her in hallucinations and memories for the rest of his life. His hand had hesitated when he had hallucinated her voice, it moved back to the button. "Trip." The voice called again. He didn't pause this time at the voice, he was sure he was going to have to get used to it sooner or later, since it was going to be with him forever. "Look up." The voice said. That was different; her voice had never said that in his head before. His head popped up automatically, without his volition; his hand still hovering over the power button.

T'Pol.

T'Pol was staring back at him on the screen, her face a hard, unreadable plain. Trip moved his hand off the power button, in favor of rubbing his eyes with both his hands. When he removed his hands, she was still there, on the screen, her expression unchanged. He sank in his chair heavily. "I didn't think you were coming." He said in a whisper, half to himself.

"I was not certain either." T'Pol answered anyway. An awkward silence stretched between them. Over their years of acquaintance, there had been many silences. They had worked together in silences that stretched hours, handing each other tools without a word. There had been entire days spent together without a word exchanged. This silence was different. This was a silence they hadn't had together since they first met; a silence filled with distrust and alienation. In this moment, the silence between them almost made them feel like strangers, rather than two people with a long shared history. There were several false starts of a conversation. Trip opened his mouth, and closed it, floundering. In all that time of waiting to see if T'Pol would show, he had not thought of what he might say. What could he say? 'Sorry that I took off again, and didn't tell you I was alive?' The quiet dragged on uncomfortably, and Trip resisted the urge to squirm.

Finally, T'Pol broke the silence. "I am gratified to see that you are alive." A typical, canned Vulcan response. But when she said it, Trip could hear the underlying relief mixed with anger. It was something uniquely T'Pol, overtly logical, covertly emotional. She had always been that way, even though she would deny it. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place; she could go toe to toe with him in an argument, and yet logic her way out of everything. He felt the corner of his mouth curve upwards without his input; he was sure he looked like a loon. Tear streaked face, and a lopsided grin. He still hadn't said anything, just stared at T'Pol, barely blinking. "Is this the 'talking' you mentioned in your message?" Her voice was clipped, but Trip couldn't help how the other side of his mouth quirked up. This was comfortable, familiar. Trip shook his head slightly.

"No, no." He commanded the grin off his face, contemplating his next words. He lightly bit his bottom lip worriedly. The next words out of his mouth could determine the rest of what remained of this 'relationship'. There were too many, different ways to start this conversation. 'I am not the Trip Tucker you knew, and I'm not sure he exists any more.' 'I traded one people for another, so basically I'm a murderer'. ' Section 31 thinks I'm dead, so that's good. But I can never come back from the dead, so I basically don't exist.' 'I don't think I deserve you, and you should move on.'But what came out of his mouth was none of those. "I'm sorry." The words rushed out breathy. He winced. Out of every way to start the conversation, he had incidentally chosen the lamest, and least sincere sounding. T'Pol's eyebrow ticked up incrementally.

"You are sorry?" Her tone was as incredulous as Trip had ever heard from her. Trip could see T'Pol trying to control her facial reactions, but he could see and hear the grounding breath she took. She closed her eyes briefly, before steeling her expression again. "If that is all, I have other matters to attend to." Trip felt his heart leap into his throat. He raised a trembling hand in a pleading manner. He could feel tears building in his eyes, but he willed them not to fall. He needed to concentrate.

"Wait… please." The words sounded watery even to his own ears.T'Pol simply stared at him, her face unreadable, "I…" he swallowed harshly. "I…" he began again, choking on the words. He swallowed past a large lump in his throat. "I'm free." He finally settled on, hoping she could interpret the deeper meaning. To his surprise, her expression darkened at his words.

"Free?" Her tone clipped. Trip nodded vigorously., not wanting to let go of the momentum of starting a conversation. If they stopped talking now, he was fairly certain it would never start again.

"I'm free." He repeated, his voice sounding lighter than he actually felt. T'Pol's expression darkened even further.

"What have you done with this freedom?" T'Pol asked, flatly. Her eyes cast over Trip's shoulders, scanning the background, seemingly searching for something, or someone. Trip's stomach dropped. He knew exactly who she was looking for. T'Pol must have finished her inspection of the background, because her eyes settled back on Trip. He braced for the inevitable question. "Where is Devna?" She asked coldly. Although he knew it was coming, he couldn't help the involuntary wince at her question. He considered lying; pretend that he had dropped Devna off months ago, only had a brief acquaintance. But he knew that T'Pol would see right through the lie. He had learned how to lie to her over the years of being undercover; but the one thing he had never learned to lie about to her was anything to do with her and his feelings for her. A terrible trait in a spy, and a terrible trait in a man who was trying to salvage what was left of a relationship. He took a deep breath, looking away from T'Pol.

"She isn't here. Dropped her off a few days ago." He chanced a glance towards T'Pol. Her expression hadn't changed. He looked away again, closing his eyes briefly, feeling his tears struggling against his restraint, trying to be released.

"She was with you until a few days ago?" T'Pol asks cooly. Trip nodded once, a sharp thing, and closed his eyes again. There was a long silence; Trip was wary to open his eyes, fearing that if he did, he would find a black screen. "I believed you were dead, Trip." T'Pol finally said, her voice wavering ever so slightly. She was silent again for a moment, and Trip warily opened his eyes. T'Pol's face had fallen, and there were tears silently tracking their way down her cheeks. Trip was stunned. He had only seen her cry a few times in the time they'd known each other. And more than half of those times had been after the loss of their daughter. The fact that she was crying now meant that he had caused her pain equivalent to the loss of Elizabeth. He felt sick.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, feeling his own tears finally break free of his restraint. He saw T'Pol press a delicate finger under one eye, then the other, wiping the tears away. Then she shrugged her shoulders into a neutral position. The only evidence of her 'emotional outburst' was her green bloodshot eyes. Trip wondered if her hands were wringing in her lap. It was in these kinds of moments he was jealous of Vulcan control. Trip wished he could tuck away his shame just as quickly. He bit back a sob; he needed to explain. "She was a prisoner, like me." He sniffled, wiping a hand under his nose. "Devna understood me in a way that no one else could." T'Pol's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Did you mate with her?" Trip could hear the restraint T'Pol was using, but her tone still contained rage. Her anger was pushing the limits of her restraint; and Trip was grateful that there was a screen between them. He shook his head, and saw her relax incrementally.

"No." He hesitated. He wasn't certain how much he should share. Should he tell her that it had definitely been offered, and that once he considered it? But that he couldn't, because he knew if he did, there was no coming back from it? "It didn't have anything to do with that." He spoke haltingly "I'm… messed up, T'Pol. I tried to hold onto who I was ever since this started. But I don't think much of Trip Tucker exists, any more." He looked down. "Devna got that. She too, had lost a part of herself to something bigger than herself." He sighed. "It was just nice to have someone around who got it, without needing to explain it." Silence followed his words; and Trip felt his cheeks warming up.

"You let me believe you were dead, because you were ashamed." T'Pol deduced It was obviously a rhetorical statement, but Trip nodded anyway. "That is illogical." Trip had to snort at that. Even he knew it was illogical, at least a part of him did. Doesn't mean it didn't make sense at the time.

"Yeah, well that's me being a human, for you." T'Pol tipped her head slightly.

"Is it human to flee from one's mate, and to confide in an Orion female?" She sounded sarcastic, in a dry, Vulcan, way. That was the influence of being a human's mate; his bad habits rubbed off on her.

"No. That was just me, being a coward." He confessed, cringing. He swayed awkwardly back and forth in his seat. "I've done some things that I'm not proud of." He admitted. "And because of that, I'm not sure I'll ever feel like I deserve any good, ever again." T'Pol's face took on a confused expression. "I've done so much wrong, T'Pol, hurt so many, in the name of good. How can someone like me deserve to live a life with any semblance of happiness?" There. He hadn't meant for all that to pour out of him, but as always with T'Pol, he couldn't back away from the truth. Not when he didn't know if this would be the last time he saw her. T'Pol stared at him with a continued confused expression, then her eyes softened, they glowed with concern and understanding.

"You are paying penance." She stated. Tripped nodded, tears building in his eyes again. T'Pol's expression softened even further. "When will your penance be over?" Her question was clear, how long would Trip pay his penance? One year? Ten years? Was he ever coming home?

"I don't know." He answered simply. Was he ever not going to feel the gnawing guilt? Was he ever not going to feel like half a man? What kind of penance would make up for what he had done, and how long did he expect T'Pol to wait for him? T'Pol nodded.

"How does paying penance change the past?" She asked. Trip opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. His teeth clacked together harshly from the action. Damn her and her logic. Of pointing out where his thoughts made no sense. It had raised his hackles since they first met, because she almost always found the space in his reasoning that didn't line up. It was extremely irritating as it was helpful. T'Pol glanced at what Trip assumed was the time. "I must go. Admiral Archer will be expecting me tomorrow." That was interesting. He had assumed she was on a mission; when he had recognized her quarters that were behind her. Did Archer recall her? And if so, why? She was the captain of the flagship of the admiral, and as such, could be recalled for battle. Was she heading into danger?

"What are you working on with the Admiral?" Trip asked, not attempting to hide his concern. Did he have a right to be concerned, after letting her worry for months? He didn't know, but most of him didn't even care.

"A Prime Directive." She said, as though that explained everything. Which, he supposed, if he had been in contact over the months, would have. "Admiral Archer is creating the foundation of the governing body of the Federation. And he has asked me to assist." She said it like it was just another day, a throwaway event, rather than a foundational, monumental, worlds changing moment. Was every day of her life like that? If such a life changing moment was so expected now, he wondered if she could ever have a 'normal' life, like he hoped to have one day. She glanced at the time again. "I must go. I have to confer with the Admiral in four hours. I need to meditate." Trip did not want to stop talking to her, did not want this to be the last conversation between the two of them.

"Can we talk again?" He asked, pleading. He hated how whiny he sounded, almost childish. But if it was what caused her to pause, to agree to another conversation, it was worth it. T'Pol hesitated, apparently grappling with the same dilemma. Stretching out these conversations would only stretch out the pain, but he couldn't end it like this. Not when he had so much more to say. T'Pol nodded sharply, with a quick inhale.

"Yes. But I will initiate the next conversation." She glanced down at her lap. "I am not certain when I will be available." Trip could deal with that, that was reasonable. "Will this channel be available to send available times on?" Trip nodded dumbly. "I will send a message with a time and date." She said, and then logged off.

"I love you." Trip said to the black screen in front of him, before finally breaking down in the sobs he had been holding in.

July 1st, 2166

USS Endeavor

Orbiting Earth

T'Pol had barely managed to close the conversation with Trip, before her Vulcan restraint gave way. Tears flowed as she clutched her arms around her upper body tightly. Her body racked with sobs.