Payment in Full - Chapter 30
TITLE: PAYMENT IN FULL- CHAPTER 30
AUTHOR: PIPPIN
RATING: NC-17 (to be on the safe side)
PAIRING: Archer/Trip
SETTING: Minor spoilers: "Stigma"; "First
Flight" and "The Expanse". Set after the events of
"Savior".
FEEDBACK: Always!
[email protected]
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the characters. I’m just borrowing them, and promise to
return them safe and sound. The only thing I gain from this is some writing
practice.
SUMMARY: Everything has a price.
Chapter 30
“Hey, Commander! No, don’t try to move. The
doc says you’re supposed to just lie still and take it easy, okay. What? No,
it’s okay. I’m not on-duty right now. Nah – don’t worry about it. I’ve been
catching up on my navigation logs. No, I volunteered. Of course I don’t mind.
Here. You’re supposed to drink this. As far as I know, it’s only orange
juice. But Phlox said to make sure you drank it. Down it goes … that’s good.
Now you just relax. Everything is fine.”
“Commander. You’re not supposed to be awake,
you know. Dr. Phlox is going to be very cross with you. It’s 13:30. I’m not on the bridge because I’m keeping
an eye on you, that’s why. Besides, this is giving me a chance to work on some
of the translation algorithms; I’m still having a problem with some of the
Early Klingon future tenses. No, you are not going to ‘take a look’. I
don’t care if you outrank me. Right now, you’re off-duty and you’re supposed
to be sleeping, not trying to take my padd away from me. Don’t make me call
Phlox! Now, you drink this. Doctor’s orders. That’s good. All of it.
There. Doesn’t that feel better?”
“Commander. It is my understanding that you
are supposed to be sleeping at this hour. Obviously, I am not on the bridge.
I am not on the bridge because Dr. Phlox wishes that you be monitored
constantly, and I require very little sleep. The Captain is fine, Commander.
No, it is not ‘the middle of the night’, it is 07:00 hours. The Captain is having his
breakfast. I will eat later. No, it is not a hardship; I can go without food
for weeks if need be, so waiting a few hours is hardly likely to be deleterious
to my health. The doctor’s instructions state that you are to drink this if
you awaken. Whether or not you are thirsty is irrelevant, Commander. Dr. Phlox’s
orders stand. There is no logic in refusing. Please drink all of it,
Commander. Yes, I am certain that it does make you feel ‘dopey’, as you put
it. I am sure that is the intended effect.”
“Hey, Commander. How are you feeling? No,
everything’s fine. We’re all caught up on repairs and everything. So I left Rostov in charge. No, don’t worry. Like
I said – we’re all caught up. Engines are running smoothly. What vibration?
No, I don’t think you should be worrying about it. Really, Commander, I don’t
feel anything. No, I’m sure that if we call the Captain, he’s going to agree
with me. Anyways, you’re supposed to be sleeping. Well, I’m sorry if
you’ve heard that a million times before, but that’s what Phlox told me, and he
also told me that you’re to drink this. I think he also said something about
bringing you down to Sickbay if you didn’t. See? Doesn’t taste that bad after
all, does it?”
“Hey, Brat. No, you lie still. Take it easy.
Yes, I know all you’ve been doing is sleeping lately. That’s the whole idea.
You need the rest. Things are going fine. Would I lie to you? Now, is that
nice? Behave yourself. No, sorry, Brat. No shower tonight. But I promise
when you’re a little stronger. Now, here. Yes, it’s more of that ‘damn juice
of Phlox’s’. No, I don’t care if you don’t want to drink it. Orders are
orders. You’re going to be good and do as you’re told. Oh, you don’t want to
know, ‘or else what’. I don’t know why I put up with you. You’re spoiled
rotten. Now, drink up before Phlox shows up breathing smoke and fire. That’s
good. All of it. That’s right. Pleasant dreams, my Th’y’la.”
Trip slowly awoke. Eyes still closed, he lay
quietly, feeling the smooth sheets underneath him and the comforting heaviness
of the blankets on top. It was strange, being aware of himself like this. For
the past few days, he had felt like he had been floating in a vast dark sea.
Even during the few moments when he was awake, he had been barely aware of
himself as a physical entity. After a moment, he also became aware of the fact
that someone was holding his hand and briefly opened his eyes. There was Jon,
sitting beside him in one of the armchairs that usually was in their living
room, absorbed in a book he held in one hand, while gently holding Trip’s hand
in the other. Trip had a brief, vivid image of Jon, sitting like this every
night until bedtime, holding his hand, simply being there with him and for
him. He wanted to say something, to acknowledge to Jon that he was aware of
his presence, but he tumbled back down into that dark ocean once more.
When he awoke again it was morning, ship’s
time. He could hear Jon moving around in the bathroom, and the familiar sounds
of his lover’s morning routine were as comforting as a warm touch. Jon came
out and saw he was awake. “Hey. There you are.”
“Hey,” he whispered in return.
Jon smiled, bent over and kissed him. “Nice to
see you.” He then picked up a glass from the bedside table. He saw the look
Trip gave him and smiled again. “Just juice, I promise.”
“No more knockout drugs?”
“Scout’s honour.”
Trip frowned, but drank, regardless. The fruit
juice was sweet and cold and good and he felt much better. He sighed. “How
long?”
“A few days, give or take. Phlox wanted you to
rest.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m sure you feel a lot better now,” Jon said
soothingly.
“I hate to admit it, but I do.”
“Good. Think you can eat?”
Trip sighed. "I don't know." At
this, Jon's face fell. Trip made the supreme effort: "I'll try,
though."
Jon brightened immediately. "Great."
"I don't promise you anything," Trip
warned him. "I mean –"
"— it's fine," Jon reassured him. "Just
as long as you try. That's all that counts."
"God, you're easy to please."
Jon smiled. "Why shouldn't I be?"
He bent, kissed Trip. "After all, look what I've already got."
Trip sighed, shifted and looked around their
dim, silent room. The bedside clock informed him that it was now 22:00. He'd fallen asleep after dinner – again.
Just another wild and exciting evening for yours truly. I wonder how much
longer it'll take me to totally lose my mind?
The door to the living room opened and Jon came
in. This was no longer surprising; he and Jon were so close that it at times
it seemed they could read each other's minds. Perhaps his confinement had
something to do with it; they spent a lot of time talking, since it wasn't
possible for Trip to do much else. Maybe all that time spent in sharing each
other's thoughts instead of passion had strengthened the bond between them. If
that's the case, at least something good has come of this.
"Hey," Jon said gently.
"Hey, yourself," he whispered.
Jon sat beside him, stroked his forehead.
"Have a good sleep?"
"After such a huge feast? Naturally."
Said feast had been three forkfuls of mashed potatoes, a spoonful of peas and a
sliver of roast beef – all from Jon's plate.
Jon was unperturbed. "It's more than you
ate yesterday – and you'll be eating more tomorrow. You'll see. Or," he
added, "you can have something else right now if you want."
The idea was not that appealing, but Jon looked
so hopeful that Trip hated to disappoint him. "Can I have some
milk?" That was one thing that didn't upset his already fragile system.
It was peculiar; he seemed to constantly crave the stuff lately. Phlox had
said something about his body wanting the calcium to rebuild its broken bones,
but Trip didn't care about the whys and wherefores; all he knew was that it
tasted good going down. And it stayed down, thank God.
Jon grinned. "You can have the whole damn
cow if you want." He hurried out and returned a moment later with a tall
glass. He lifted Trip's head, supported him while he drank.
"Better?"
Trip managed to smile back, although he hated
being this helpless. "Yeah. Thanks."
But once again, their was no fooling his
partner. Jon reached, tapped him affectionately on the nose. "Don't lie
to me, Brat."
Trip sighed, rolled his eyes. "Know-it-all."
"When it comes to you? You bet." He
sat beside the bed. "You'll be back to normal, causing trouble, before
you know it." He grinned. "Personally, I'm taking advantage of the
peace and quiet and enjoying it while I can."
"Bastard."
"Brat. Spoiled brat."
"You ought to know."
"You bet. And speaking of that, " he
stood and exited again, coming back with clean linens. Before Trip could offer
any more observations, he was gone again, this time returning with all of
Trip's bath paraphernalia. "Bath time," he said cheerfully, stating the obvious.
Trip sighed inwardly. He hated this more than
he could say; hated being so helpless; hated not being able to care for
himself; and most of all, hated the fact that the captain of the
Enterprise was acting as his bath
boy. "You don't have to –" he began, but Jon cut him off.
"Yes, I do. Remember, I have to sleep in
this bed, too."
"You saying I smell bad?"
"Not yet, you don't. And I intend to keep
it that way."
This time, his sigh was audible.
"Okay."
Jon smiled, laid a light hand on his forehead.
"Remember what Phlox said. This won't last long, and you'll be back to
showers soon enough."
"I sure as hell hope so."
"It's not that bad, is it?" Jon was
suddenly anxious. "I don't hurt you, do I?"
"Of course not. But you shouldn't have to
do this."
"I don't have to, Brat. I want to."
"But –"
"— But nothing. Now lie still and
relax." Jon's voice was light, but Trip heard the firmness underlying the
light tone, and knew that any further argument would be useless: Jon's mind
was made up.
So he lay quietly as Jon quickly bathed him,
stripped the bed and put fresh linens on, all in quick order, and watched those
large hands as they worked, wondering once again how they could be so powerful
that a single blow could send a man flying, and yet also capable of such
gentleness.
Jon finished up using dry shampoo to clean his
hair. Trip sighed. "I wish you wouldn't go through all this trouble for
me. I don't need my hair cleaned every day."
Jon was now combing his hair. "You don't
get it, do you? It makes you feel better. So I don't mind. And for the
millionth time, it's no trouble."
Another sigh. "Thanks."
"No need for thanks."
"Maybe, but I wasn't raised to be rude,
you know."
"Really?" Jon grinned as he pulled
clean sheets up over him, and placed a freshly-laundered comforter over top of
him. "Your vocabulary tells me otherwise."
"Bastard. You know what I mean."
"Brat. And yes, I do." He adjusted
Trip's pillows, which now also had clean pillowcases. "I know you
appreciate it."
"Still ..."
"Still, nothing," was the reply. Jon
gathered everything up. "Feel better?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
He exited, and Trip watched as he did. He
does so much for me. How can I ever repay him? And where would I even
begin? As he was pondering this, Jon came back, undressed, and slipped
into bed beside Trip.
"Ah, my own," he sighed, as he took
Trip in his arms, careful not to hold him too tightly. Trip lay his head on
Jon's shoulders, felt Jon kiss his head. "It's so good to have you
here."
Trip, who had closed his eyes, opened them in
surprise, and looked up at his lover. Jon, seeing the surprise, smiled.
"Just knowing that you're here makes it all worthwhile."
"It does?"
"It does." Another kiss. "I
don't know how I get through the day if I didn't know you were waiting for
me." He added quickly, "Don't get me wrong – I hate the fact that
you're so sick. But still – having you here with me like this – what more
could I want?"
"And it doesn't bother you?"
"What doesn't?"
He really doesn't know what I'm talking
about, Trip realized, with some surprise. "All
this stuff. Having to feed me, bathe me –"
Jon silenced him with a kiss. "I'll do
whatever it takes for you, my own. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Trip was silent. A revelation was slowing
dawning. Maybe – maybe being together meant that you didn't keep track of who
did what and who owed whom. Maybe, just maybe, it didn't matter. Not really;
not in the long run; not where it counted. Perhaps it meant that you were
simultaneously always in debt and always paid in full, as far as the accounts
of the heart were concerned. He looked at Jon, who was smiling at him, and
realized that Jon had figured this out a long time ago. Nevertheless, it seemed
important, somehow, to let Jon know that he, too, finally understood.
He reached, traced the lines of his lover's
face. I'm responsible for some of those, he thought. But he
wouldn't have it any other way, would he? Jon smiled, turned his head, and
kissed the palm of Trip's hand. "You understand?" he asked.
"I think I'm starting to," Trip
whispered in reply. But that wasn't enough, was it? He deserves more than
that. He smiled at Jon as best he could. "It's all part of the
package deal, isn't it?"
"Yep."
"Thought so." He continued to stroke
Jon's face, then smiled. "When it comes to us, I guess the accounts
balance out, don't they?"
"Always, my own, always."
Trip kissed him. "I love you," he
said simply. It was not something he said easily, or lightly, but it seemed to
be the only thing he could say – the only thing to say.
"I figured that out a while back,"
Jon said. "But that's good, because I love you, too."
Trip sighed. Jon stroked his forehead.
"Go to sleep, my own."
He obeyed, closing his eyes. Jon would stay
awake, a little longer, keeping watch over him as he always did. And when he
woke up in the morning, Jon would be there for him, just as he would be for Jon.
And they would go on together, towards whatever waited for them, the accounts
of their hearts always in balance with each other.
Forever and always, paid in full, paid in full.
THE END