SquidgeWorld Archive

Observer Post-traumatic Effect
by Sue

...What am I doing here?...Waiting in this corridor near Sickbay as though I have nothing better to do... And that is certainly not true...I am needed on the Bridge...The data analyses the captain requires won't be completed by themselves...Yet, this fact doesn't motivate me to go anywhere...

...Where is he?...Why doesn't he emerge from Sickbay?... Could it be that the doctor is insisting he remain for further, more exhaustive analysis before he will be allowed to return to duty?...Hoshi must stay in Sickbay; her blood levels are not where they should be...the doctor insisted...Will he insist Trip stay too?...

I creep somewhat nearer to the entrance of Sickbay and peek a fraction around a Caduceus where it isn't as clouded. Trip is still seated on the bio-bed and Doctor Phlox is injecting him with who knows what.

...Is it what Humans say, 'a miracle' that he is still alive?...I focus on Trip, his being so ill from the silicon-based virus with its inherent biohazard potential...then my mind overturns the incident when he had been in a deep coma...and how the use of Sim had saved him then...What will it be next time?...I refuse to give it serious thought at this juncture...Doing so will only distract me...

I see Trip smile, while running a hand through his hair. I have run my hand through his hair...liking the sensation, perhaps more than I should. He appears steady on his feet when he comes off the bio-bed.

...I should leave--leave now...before he comes out and discovers I've been lurking by Sickbay...Yes, lurking... How would you describe my erratic behavior?...I wish to see for myself that he is all right, really all right, 'up close and personal,' as Trip would categorize it... But there is potential for suspect behavior on my part... I could find myself speaking too quickly before thinking, telling him I am relieved he did not die...because I would be heartsick if he had done so...Because I truly care about him...care for him...I believe I have even grown to... 'love' him...as they say...and didn't get the chance to tell him so...The idea of my not having told him throws me into confusion...What right do I have to feel this way about...Trip?

Acutely, a tremor involuntarily races through me. The impetus causes me to analyze why I now consider the use of the word 'love' no longer remiss. It is startling to consider that three years ago making such a reference would have signified cortical degradation. Now, however, just the mere thought of him standing beside me, looking at me the way he does, the way he makes a point of letting me know he likes to, invokes desire.

...What would *you* call it?...I fixate on him almost constantly...Whenever I read anything profound in the Kir'Shara, I think in terms of what Trip would say about such awareness...Would he understand?...Would he desire to go deeper than the superficial, penetrate the nadir?...

As engrossed as I am, I'm jarred out of my self-absorbed preoccupation upon hearing the Commander's voice very close to the door panels. He is preparing to come out.

All my muscles are immobile.

"Sure thing, Doc, I'll take it easy. Come right straight back here if I feel the least bit weird. Thanks, again."

...Too late now...whether I flee, or remain where I stand, it will be obvious I am here and it will amuse him to no end...I believe I know him well enough, after all we have allowed...He will conclude I have waited purposely ...and, indeed, truth is truth...Somehow, it feels wrong to say nothing to him...To omit voicing something private, something... intimate... Despite the ragged beating of my changed heart, which I fear betrays me, I will allow him to know that what nearly happened to him greatly disturbed me...I will do so logically...

Why, then, am I jittery?

The door panels part and as Trip passes over the threshold, I'm standing directly in his way, looking down at the deck, unsure whether I made the wisest decision to perhaps further complicate an already complicated situation.

...Again the crucial questions gnaw at me...What are we to each other? Were we ever anything? If we were, in some conceivable future, something more than fellow officers who are friends...would I lose...my...time-honored perspectives which have unfailingly guided me through life? ...Would I be less Vulcan?

"Hey, T'Pol. I thought you were headed for the Bridge."

I thought so too, but not before I learn of your true condition, I reflect, disarmed by his gentle, careless smile. For that smile alone it is worth being here for him to see me. I'm not good with 'small talk.' "How do you feel?"

"Well, I won't be runnin' marathons any time soon, that's for sure." He shrugs, giving the section of the corridor we are walking through what appears to be a casual glance until he's looking at me again, more like studying. "Better I've been, but all in all, from what Phlox told me, I'm lucky to be here," he admits. "Hoshi and me, both."

"Indeed..."

Trip slows down and I do so too. My response is immediate, without cognition. "I wanna thank ya for all the hard work you put in with Phlox tryin' to prevent us from kickin' the bucket." He must have caught my slight frown for he says, "Dyin', T'Pol. That's what it means."

I surprise myself when I sound as if I'm chocking in reply. "Despite our efforts, we failed to find a cure. We worked desperately."

It is as though something clicks in his mind; 'wheels are turning,' as I've heard him say. "Y'know, Phlox tried to explain more or less the same to me, come to think of it. Silicon-based varmints've got us whipped. Only natural, bein' what we Humans are...carbon-based lifeforms. Exo-biology one-oh-one. I wasn't too shabby with it." I sense his pride telling me he knows that much. We're standing by the turbolift now, and I note, very close to each other. We hesitate before bringing it to this level as though our thoughts are in perfect sync. "But damned if I understand what he was tryin' to explain about the other stuff. It's funny. Ya know...it's like what happened didn't. It's the darnedest thing. We were dead...then we weren't, and no longer sick. Wrappin' my mind around it just isn't happenin'."

"The Organians involved us in an experiment without our knowledge."

"The who?"

"The Organians..."

His facial expression changes. "Oh, yeah. Right...them. I think I remember that's what Jon was callin' 'em." Instead of looking less confused, he looks more so.

"They were not responsible for the virus," I elaborate clinically, "but they did nothing to halt its deadly progress which they could have at the outset. I believe they were, as I've heard you express it in the past,
'playing God.'"

"Playin' God...hmmm. Like who died and left it to 'em." His forehead wrinkles. "Makes ya wonder, don't it..."

"Yes, about a number of things." Lately, I've begun to question, at length, the presumption of any species to meddle in any way with another. Who gives whom the right? In further conversation I had with Captain Archer, when I walked with him the length of this corridor, but did not join him for the ride to the Bridge as he had anticipated, he detailed the discussion with the ones who had used Trip's and Hoshi's bodies once they had expired. Our talk was very insightful. Trip...and Hoshi too...had indeed died.

...What if the intruders had both remained intransigent, refusing to 'revive' Hoshi...*Trip*?...

I look into the face of my sincere Human searchingly, knowing how wrong it all would have been.

"They used us as guinea pigs, is what ya mean."

"Yes." His use of 'guinea pigs' I am familiar with; Phlox has made similar references in the context of laboratory investigations performed on Earth and a groundbreaking endeavor being carried out on one of the developing colonies using these furry creatures. I think they are, well, for want of a less technical word...'cute,' wholly defenseless creatures. Despite my background, I can't help but think of Trip in those terms, on occasion. Especially when examined along with similar events the crew has recently experienced. There is no longer any room for doubt; I have been living among Humans too long.

...I have long since stopped viewing it as a liability...

"We were nothin' more than that to 'em. Lab rats." Even though he decides to mutter, I still hear what he says, "Talk about invasion of the body snatchers, for real." Then, raising his voice purposely, he says, "A great movie, by the way. A sci-fi classic."

He and his movies, I don't hesitate to think. "An intriguing title."

"It was made in the nineteen fifties, the latter part. Probably wouldn't make a great selection for Movie Night. At least not so soon after all this." He shakes his head and hollows out his cheeks. "Next time I go surface-side, I won't think twice. Forgettin' how much I hate havin' to wear one, I'll don an EV suit first on general principle, and ask questions later."

...I like the scope of his logic...I might insist he do so as a precaution. These all-too-frequent episodes of his being endangered are truly taking their tolls on me...This most recent one has proven to be the worst to stardate.

"That would appear to be quite logical..." I can see he is wondering whether or not I will call him... "Trip."

He smiles, but not as easily as he can. An odd look takes hold of his eyes and I wonder what he's thinking. He doesn't keep me waiting long. "T'Pol..." It appears he is uncomfortable, and I know the feeling. "Were..."

"Yes?" I encourage...he seems vulnerable, and the way I've been feeling has its way of augmenting it.

There is a light film of moisture shining on his forehead. "Were ya worried about me...at all? Even just a little bit?"

With his source of concern out in the open, he relaxes visibly as though his having asked was the worst part of this ordeal.

...Ordeal?...Is that what this is?...Why has it come to this?...The answer is clear...We are at the...I believe the Human way of expressing it is 'crossroads'...He desires increased, a deepening of intimacy and it's what I fear most...But my waiting in this corridor...What does that say for me?...What I feel about him and the possibility of our cultivating a relationship...a romantic one...one I can see in his eyes he wants very much, where intimacy is expected...demanded...

"T'Pol?"

...He sees on my face what he's seen before, many times since our mating...My ability to mask my true feelings isn't what it once was...My inability to control myself...severely compromised, as Phlox advised it might be, permanently. I care for Trip more than he knows...more than I'm willing to let him know...

Blurting, he admits, "Cap'n told me you wanted him to notify ya if I regained consciousness..."

I close my eyes and think...and if you hadn't?...I would have lost a part of me, Trip, an integral part... My hearing is primed, enabling me to hear his heart beating rapidly, along with mine. I have a good idea of what he wants me to say. But how can I when I question everything about the wisdom of pursing greater intimacy with him?

He is mumbling, but in time, his spoken words become more distinct, more incisive. As they do, I realize as never before that losing him would be tragic. I've lost my mother, and I will always feel the loss. Losing Trip? Whether by his death or my indifference? I do not wish it--not when my desire to have his love, to be enriched by it, grows stronger everyday.

...I must hold to my resolve...I must...Why must I? I am Vulcan, that is why...

What he says next tolls in my ears; profounder words he has never spoken. "The worst part about dyin', T'Pol, would be leavin' you behind. That's mostly what I thought about when I was in Decon, before havin' to be knocked out. Nearly drove myself nuts. Losin' you... never knowin' what it'd be like havin' a life with you." Grimacing, Trip confesses, "Story of my life...I can fix a warp engine with my eyes blindfolded, but havin' anythin' meaningful with anyone, real commitment... scares the hell outta me." part...real commitment with a woman scares the hell outta me."

"Trip..."

"T'Pol, hey, I know me. If we had somethin', we'd have our ups and downs, you'd probably find yourself hatin' me sometimes, no question...somehow, though, I know it'd be sweet with us. I cursed my not makin' it 'cause if I died, we'd never get the chance to find out just how incredible we could be together." He reaches out, touching my cheek, fingering it, actually. With contact made, I react, trembling even more than before. "I was afraid I'd die without havin' said how much I...how much I..."

My voice is thick. "Yes...it was difficult..."

...I love this man...truly, I do...Fundamentally, he is the reason I chose to stay here, aboard ENTERPRISE...Why do I hold back?...

"There I go again," he grants, his shoulders sagging, his posture suffering, overall. "Bein' as hard-headed and tunnel visioned as they come, like it's all about me. Always about me." He lowers his head and rests his hand against my collarbone, pressing into it with his thumb. The sensation is exhilarating. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I just want ya to know how I feel. It's hard for you, probably harder than I could ever imagine. I realize that. That's why I'm tryin' my damnedest *not* to push, not rush ya. I'm tryin' to give ya time, but it's hard, T'Pol. It's so damned hard when ya really care about someone the way I care about you. It's like I lost ya when ya married Koss. Then when he released ya from the marriage I took it that I was bein' given another chance...and now...now..." The way he studies my face pierces me to the core. "I love ya, girl. Don't ya know that? If it's the one thing that gets through, I want that to be it. My lovin' you."

He shivers and transfers it to me. If our observers still walked among us, they might conclude we have contracted some other noxious affliction.

...I wish to cry and if I do...I could confess everything to him...*everything*...starting with: I love you, Trip...

The urge to embrace him seizes me, but I concentrate and by sheer will it passes.

"Now..." He shrugs, looking indecisive. "I have no idea where I stand with ya. None at all. Is it so impossible my bein' with you? I know what I said about 'Romeo and Juliet' standin' more of a chance. I was bitter, T'Pol. Bitter...pure and simple."

Starkly, I'm aware that he has brought his face inches from mine. The impulse to draw away is fleeting. If he decides to kiss me...I will let him. And if he desires more? Should I tell him he may come to my quarters later and share what we had those many ship's nights ago in the Expanse?

...I am tempted...I have missed him...

"I think we could have somethin' fine, T'Pol. Somethin' better than special. Please?"

His lower lip caresses mine; the sensation mesmerizes me. He is what emotional means and I crave it...him. My hunger drives reluctance away. He loves me. He did not need to express it openly. Indeed...I know, have known for quite some time.

His kiss is nothing like the one I had once inflicted on him. His is kind, considerate, soft...filled with longing and need that is tempered with nuances of his holding back, but wanting more, nevertheless. He is controlled. I find his restraint scintillating, erotic as well as admirable. It is I who want more. My tongue forces its way into his mouth and he gasps as though having swallowed something too quickly.

...The nightmare...the nightmare...the shower...

The firestorm of passion rekindles in me. My mind reels when the sublime aligns with the urgency. I think I hear him say..."There's gotta be time for us...has to be...we gotta make it, darlin'..." as I back him up against the bulkhead.

...I want him now!...All that he has to give...

"--COMMANDER T'POL, REPORT TO THE BRIDGE IMMEDIATELY--"

...NO!...

I barely contain a whimper.

Trip stops my plundering of his mouth, breaking off with a deep-throated grunt. "Damn!"

Something inside me rebels and the wild urge to disregard the call for my reporting to duty surges through me... Impetuously...I want to go with Trip...go wherever he says we should...

I'm still clinging to him.

"You'd better go...or I might not let ya..."

...Who won't let whom go?...He prevent me?...I could stop him, easily...or impose myself on him as I wish to do, here and now...If I decide, it is he who won't be going anywhere...I'm stronger...I remind myself that though I am more than his match when the subject is greater physical strength, Trip is profusely secure in his manhood...his exquisite Human maleness.

"Phlox advises I take it easy..." He shifts his eyes upwards. "And you're needed up there a-sap."

I merely nod, knowing he is right, he being superlatively logical. I also know I cannot leave him alone. Faulty reasoning compelled me to discourage him several weeks ago when I visited him in Engineering, telling him there wouldn't be time for cultivating an 'us;' I was being rash, grievously shortsighted.

The side of me which fears intimate involvement with Trip will lessen me as a Vulcan, I must reassure. Convince it that Trip means me no harm. He never could. His desire for increased intimacy stems from his need to love me. Romantic involvement could enhance my life. Up until now, romance has never been a determining factor. It is superfluous for Vulcans, by and large. "Dinner tonight?" I docilely suggest. The one thought I have is being with him alone.

"Dinner tonight, yes," he eagerly agrees and lifts my chin higher with the coaxing of his finger. "Gorgeous." He has yet to release me from his replete embrace. It's as though with my thinking that, his left arms falls away from my body. "It's child's play bein' real grabby around you..."

We decide it's best not to travel together in the turbolift. When it comes, and I board, I turn, facing him, wondering what will become of us. A Human and a Vulcan...a potently attractive Human who loves me...loves me deeply...and I... feeling it, the insistent stirrings of this emotion, the most powerful of them all, blossoming in me in guarded stages.

"Dinner," he repeats and I nod again.

I try to smile, but don't quite achieve it. "Dinner. Where we dine is your decision...what we dine on...mine."

"T'Pol--" The panel door of the turbolift starts shutting, obscuring him from view, but not before he sticks his head into the shrinking space and obstructs the panel. Moments prior to his disappearance, and sounding somewhat breathless, he stridently proclaims, "You're the best, do ya know that? Just so happens I'm in the mood for veggies as an appetizer, aside from you, of course, the main course and dessert. Dessert? Well, that could be you too. See ya later, darlin'...can't wait."

...Neither can I...'t'hyla'...neither can I... The smile I tried attempting for him creeps to the corners of my mouth. He doesn't get to see it. The panel has already closed, but...

I hear him. He is singing, right before the turbolift gets underway. He lacks tone, but what he lacks in musical ability he makes up for in varied, vital ways.

"...'It's just emotions takin' me over, tied up in sorrow, locked in my soul...but if you should come back, come home to me, darlin'...or else there'll be nobody left in this world to hold me tight, nobody left in this world to kiss goodnight...'"

Emotions, indeed, I assess, *You* are the emotions, Trip. Owing to my keen hearing, I hear him begin anew, expressing something else.

"...'I can't get enough of ya love...no, no, no...can't get enough of your love...I can't get enough of your love...no, no, no...'"

Honestly? I know the feeling...

End