Author: Lady Starblade -- [email protected]
Rating: PG
Pairing: T/R
Category: Angst/Romance
Spoilers: "The Expanse"
Warnings: Very minor theological discussion
Archive: Entslash; Anyone else, if ya want it, take it. Just let me know where.
Feedback: <in best Roger Rabbit voice> Pppppleeeease!
Disclaimer: I own 'em and make tons of money. And if you believe that, I got a few more to tell ya. I own none and make no money. Reality sucks.
Author's Note: I was planning to hold off on writing an "Expanse" fic, but as usual, the bunnies won't be denied. This is the one I was working on during chat.
Summary: Elizabeth Tucker has something to say to her brother.
**
"Looks like I got to go to the movies after all, hmm?" Trip Tucker turned so fast he almost lost his balance. He teetered for a moment before regaining his footing, then stared at the figure sitting on the steps of the movie theater. "And all by myself, too."
Elizabeth Tucker grinned up at him, full of life and laughter. Lizzie, his little sister, who had died in the Xindi attack on Earth several months ago. For the last week and the next six to come, Enterprise had been flying toward the Delphic Expanse to prevent the Xindi's plan for Earth's destruction. But for Trip, it had become about more than saving the world. It was about avenging the deaths of over 7 million people, including the woman in front of him.
"This is a dream." Trip glanced around, seeing the intact landscape soaked in brilliant sunshine. He had stood in almost this very spot and looked at the canyon carved into it. This wasn't there anymore. The devastation had shocked him to his very core, and only his lover's presence at his shoulder had kept Trip from breaking down right there. "I'm dreamin'."
"Well, of course. But stating the obvious is hardly a way to say hello to your sister." Elizabeth's accent had been softened by the years of schooling and travel, but the distinct Florida drawl was still there. The sound brought pinpricks of tears to Trip's eyes. He quickly blinked them back, feeling idiotic. This was just a dream. But it seemed so real....
"You ain't real." he said, more to himself than to her.
Elizabeth's bright hazel eyes, a mark of the Tucker women as much as the blue eyes were of the Tucker men, narrowed as she stood up. "Does it really matter?" She shook her head as she walked over to him, her long dark blond hair fluttering in the breeze. "You never were one to take most things on faith. You can tell yourself that this isn't real, that I'm not real, if you'd like. Doesn't make much difference either way. Doesn't bother me."
*Damn, does that ever sound like Lizzie.* "You're dead and I'm dreamin'."
She stomped her foot, a familiar gesture that hit Trip like a punch. "Will you get off that already and just go with this? You can be so dense and stubborn sometimes." Seeing that long-suffering expression, so Elizabeth, and Trip didn't care about it being a dream anymore.
"Oh Lizzie...." He reached out and wrapped his arms around his sister, burying his face into her hair. It even *smelled* like her. "I'm so sorry Lizzie, I shoulda been there."
She hugged back and let out a small laugh. "Oh no, my protective big brother, you can't blame this one on yourself. There's nothing you could've done, Trip. It wasn't your fault. If anything, it was my fault. I was supposed to be in New York that day. But I decided not to go."
Pulling back, Trip looked down at her. His protests died at her fierce gaze. "It wasn't your fault," she repeated. "It was a horrible thing, but you had nothing to do with it. Understand?" That was another trademark of the females of the Tucker line; the ability to make even the most bullheaded of men cower. Trip could only nod, since there would be no other acceptable answer.
She gave him another quick squeeze, then slipped out of his arms. Catching a hand, she tugged on it. "C'mon, let's go sit down." He meekly followed her back to the theater and sat a step below her. She carefully tucked a leg underneath herself and combed a lock of hair out of her eyes. She was fidgeting, and that meant she was going to say something that Trip didn't want to hear.
Giving up her delaying tactic with a sigh, Elizabeth faced her brother down. "I cannot believe how awful you've been to Malcolm recently. Yelling at him like that? I would've knocked some sense into you, but then again, that's a personal preference." A half-smile came over her face as Trip's mouth fell open slightly.
"Wait a minute, how did ya know about Malcolm 'n me?" Trip ignored the corner of his mind that insisted that since she was a figment of his imagination, she knew everything he did.
Elizabeth's smile grew. "Hon, I know a lot of things now that I didn't before. He's a wonderful man, and I'm sorry I never got to meet him." Her expression sobered and her grip tightened to add emphasis to her words. "And he's trying to help you, but you won't let him. That's not right. That's cruel. And you know it."
Trip wanted to shrink away from that truth, but Elizabeth had never been one to back off. She pulled her hand back, joining the other wrapped around one of her knees. "He loves you so much, he wants to help you so much. I know you love him, but every time he reaches out, you just slap him away. He has a lot more patience than I would have. I'm starting to think you don't deserve him. It would serve you right if he walked away after the way you've been treating him."
Her accuracy hit home and Trip flinched. Staring intently at his clenched hands, he said softly, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost him. You dyin' hurt so much....what am I gonna to do if Malcolm dies?" As the words left his mouth, his head came up in surprise. Pieces clicked into place inside his brain. *Oh God, that's why I've been pushing him away.* He had been awfully contained recently, to the point that he had been shirking Malcolm's embrace. It seemed an intrusion into his self-pity, and Trip had been rather virulent about it. Sometimes he had even pointedly slept alone. And yet Malcolm still kept coming back.
Trip had been trying to disconnect himself from the people he cared about, because caring and then losing was hurt too much. But trying to separate himself from the man he loved was not only impossible, painful, and cruel, it was just plain stupid. He loved Malcolm, and he needed him now more than ever.
His eyes, wide with realization, eyes met his sister's, and Elizabeth smiled. "I can see you've figured it out, big brother. Good for you. Even if it did take you forever and a day."
He looked away sheepishly. "Okay. You're right."
"I just told you what you already know. You just don't listen to yourself very well. You should work on that." Elizabeth stood up, brushing her hands on her thighs as she did so. Her head tilted, as if she were listening to something.
Snapping abruptly back to attention, she caught Trip's eye. "Time to go. You take care of yourself. Or let him take care of you, whatever works." That laughing twinkle was back in her eyes. "I don't want to see you again for a while yet."
Trip clambered to his own feet, frantically searching for something to say. He finally raised his hands in a reaching motion. "Lizzie...." He heard the pleading note and knew it was reflected in his eyes.
Elizabeth stepped down and hugged Trip hard. "I know. I'm sorry. But you've got things you need to do. And you can start by apologizing to Malcolm." Her tone brooked no argument.
"I will. Promise."
She stepped back, eyes bright with tears. "Goodbye, Trip. I love you."
Feeling his throat constrict, he choked out, "I love you, Lizzie. Goodbye."
In a parting gesture, she brushed her fingers across his cheek briefly before turning and running up the stairs. At the top, she looked back over her shoulder and whispered, "Bye." He couldn't possibly have heard her from this distance, but the word echoed in his mind and heart. His hand lifted in farewell. With a last smile, Elizabeth stepped into the theater and disappeared.
She was gone.
**
Trip woke up, curled on his side, one hand reaching vainly for a ghost that wasn't there. He took several deep breaths and rubbed the hand over his face, feeling the small dampness of the two tears that had fallen. *Damn. That felt so real.*
"Trip? Love?" The voice behind him was dull and thick, telling Trip that Malcolm had just woken up himself.
"Yeah?" There was a tentative touch on his shoulder and Trip closed his eyes in shame. Elizabeth was right. He didn't deserve Malcolm and his unwavering love and concern.
"You all right?"
Trip rolled onto his back, eyes still screwed shut. "Just dreaming, that's all." The hand that had been on his shoulder slowly slid onto his chest, and, after a hesitant moment, began to trace a soft pattern there. Trip lay silently, letting himself truly feel his lover's touch for the first time in a long while.
"Do you think there's an afterlife?" The hand froze momentarily in surprise before resuming its motion.
"I never thought I'd hear you wax theological." Malcolm said, tone sharper and more alert.
Trip turned his head and opened his eyes so he could make out Malcolm silhouetted against the dim starlight. "You think there's life after death?"
A moment of contemplative silence reigned before Malcolm answered. "I certainly hope so. Because as far as I'm concerned, one life with you isn't enough."
The quiet love in that voice swept aside the last of the tough facade, and Trip began to cry. Rolling into Malcolm's arms, he cried for his sister, cried for himself, cried for his world, cried for his friends and the danger they were all sailing toward. But most of all, he cried for the man who, even after Trip had savaged him with bitter words, was cradling him and whispering soothing words as gentle hands ran over his hair and down his back.
"I'm so sorry." Trip mumbled against Malcolm's chest as the tears slowly tapered off. "I'm sorry I've been such a bastard. I'm sorry, I'm sorry...." His arms wound around the other man and held tight. "I know I hurt ya, and I'm so sorry."
Malcolm shifted to kiss Trip's forehead, then pulled him close. "It's all right. I understand. It was a terrible thing to happen. You lost someone you love, and that's always hard. I can't imagine how I would feel if I lost Madeline."
"But," Trip heard his voice shake, "I almost lost you, kept pushin'..."
Malcolm's soft chuckle rumbled through Trip. "It'll take much more than a nasty mood to drive me off. But I really wish you would let me help instead of working yourself into such a state."
Trip nodded. "Yeah, okay. I'll try." Silence passed for several minutes before Trip whispered, "I just don't want to lose you. I love you too much."
"I love you more than anything. And you won't ever lose me." The calm certainty of the statement sparked both relief and disbelief inside Trip.
"But who knows what'll happen when we get in there?" Trip said, worry lacing his words.
"I don't know, love, I really don't. But whatever happens, we'll face it together." Trip felt Malcolm's lips press to his hair.
"Together, darlin'."
"Always."
END