Author:
Pretzelduck
Rating:
PG
Spoilers:
To be safe, everything
Archive:
If you want it, sure!
Summary:
Seven years into the future, Jonathan Archer says goodbye to the love of his
life.
Disclaimers:
I don't own the Star Trek franchise. I
wish I did but all I own is my ‘91 Chevy
Beretta,
the crappy computer I typed this on, and the textbooks I paid way too much
money for.
Please
don't sue me.
---
It
passed in a blur. They, I guess...not
it. Seven years. Seven of the most terrifying and
wonderful years of my life. What history will recall are the ostentatious
things. Returning
Klang.
The
showdown with the Suliban. The completion of the first
five year mission. But to me, and
the rest of the crew I suspect, what will
matter are the things that don't get marked down in
reports and logs. Only to the people that lived aboard this
ship are some things important.
Yesterday
will go down in the
Lieutenant
Commander Reed. I'll always remember
that day as the day I said goodbye to my
Malcolm. The man I loved.
Our
relationship was an uncertain one from the beginning. He was so cautious and withdrawn.
Malcolm
didn't like to open up to people. I was
so scared. Scared of jeopardizing my
command
and even more afraid of pushing him farther
away. There were times in those first
couple of years
that I almost told him how I felt. Now looking back, I want to think I should
have. We only had
seven years together. Five as a couple. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I know
better.
Neither
of us was ready yet. I didn't know how
to balance being the captain with being a
boyfriend.
He didn't know how trust his heart to someone else.
We
were two years into the mission when the
systems were going down all over the place. Nothing major, though. Doors wouldn't open. The
ship's computer when asked for star charts
would bring up the recipe for Trip's beloved pecan
pie.
I wandered up and down each deck and eventually found myself alone in a
lift with Malcolm.
I
stopped thinking of him as Lt. Reed the first time I caught a glimpse of his
smile on our very
first meeting.
Lo and behold...and thanks I'm sure to Trip, who was tired of listening
to me
debate telling Malcolm how I felt about him, the lift
jammed and Malcolm and I were stuck.
I
was going to just sit there and discuss weapons systems with him when Malcolm
actually broke
the ice first. I can't remember what story he told but it
didn't matter. As he explained to me
later, he was so nervous that he was sure that
I could hear his heartbeat. The lift was
supposedly
stuck for thirty minutes while Trip ‘got
around' to fixing it. I didn't notice
the time. Malcolm
and I spent the entire time telling each
other stories. When the lift finally
began to move, it
stopped at the Armory first and Malcolm stood up
to leave. As he started to walk through
the
open door, he turned out and said, "I
had a good time, Jon."
Simple
and stupid words to anyone that doesn't know Malcolm.
But I knew. I knew exactly how
much those words meant. Calling me by my first time went against
everything Malcolm had ever
been taught, as I learned later. The lift ‘accident' was beginning of our
relationship. We
were...comfortable around each other after
that. Once the comfort level grew so did
other things.
Malcolm
and I started having long talks. He,
hesitantly at first, told me about his parents and his
home life.
I shared with him the burdens of being the captain and of living my
father's dream.
Time
passed too quickly after that. The
images swirl around my mind incoherently unless I focus
on just one. Our first kiss. The first time we made love. Hoshi mistakenly announcing our
relationship to the entire crew over the ship's loud
speaker. Malcolm
moving into my quarters.
Between
the two of us managing to teach Porthos to fetch.
The anniversary party that the crew
threw us.
All the close calls, one or both of us being
injured. Entering orbit around Earth
after
the end of the five year mission with
Malcolm's hand wrapped gently around mine.
Starfleet
almost refusing to allow the both of us to ship
back out together on
while I stood at my father's grave. Holding him after his father slammed the door
in his face
when we went to visit his parents.
All
the memories of our life together working tirelessly to block out my last image
of him. Lying
in a pool of his own blood with his
gorgeous dark eyes still open and revealing the utter pain of
his death.
We were running out of time. I
knew someone would have to stay behind.
There just
wasn't enough time. Without a single word, Malcolm ran back down
the tunnel. I turned to say a
word to him and he was gone. The next instant there was an explosion and
T'Pol's voice on the
communicator saying the last shield was down. We were in the clear. But in that instant, I knew
the cost.
I'll never know how I made it back down that tunnel. My thoughts were focused on
one thing.
Malcolm. With Trip on my heels, I
rounded a corner and there he was. His
body was
slumped up against the side of the rock wall at
an odd and unnatural angle. Behind him,
the
tunnel had caved in.
My
body moved like it was full of molasses.
It felt like an eternity until I managed to kneel beside
his broken body. I stared at him forever. I didn't want to touch him. If I felt him, it would
cement it in my brain that he was dead. It would make it real. I didn't want it to be real. I
wanted him to look up at me and smile. Not that half smile he gave us all for so
long but his true
smile. The one that lights up his whole face and makes me fall in love
with him all over again. I
want him to tell some inane
you-have-to-be-British joke. I want to
listen to him read poetry to
me because I'm simply happy to hear his
voice. I want to go back in time and
hear him call me
Jon
for the first time. I want him to gaze up at me with that look
that says I'm in love with you.
The
look I know is mirrored in my face right now.
I don't want to lose him. We
haven't had
enough time.
I'll
probably never be clear on how I got back to the ship. I remember Trip's hand against my
back leading me out of the cave. I remember thinking that Malcolm's hand sure
felt different. I
can hear Hoshi's voice in my mind. The strain in her voice as
she told T'Pol, "Malcolm's gone."
I
remember wondering if he had run after some native questioning them about their
weapons
again.
That night...last night...was sleep filled thanks to Phlox and a
sedative. I remember
crawling into bed and hoping that Malcolm would
hurry and finish tweaking the phase cannons.
The
bed seemed cold and empty without him.
The
door chime is ringing now. It must be
Trip coming to escort me to the funeral.
Malcolm
didn't want to be buried in the ground. He wanted to be out among the stars so that's
where we're
spreading his ashes. I wonder if I'll ever adjust to life without
him. I feel his absence in this very
room.
It's a void that will never be filled.
Malcolm's had a piece of my heart since the first day I
met him.
Slowly, he took it all. He once
told me that he was giving me his heart and begged me
not to throw it away. That was the only time I heard him
plead. It was also the first time I told
him I loved him. I own Malcolm's heart and he owned mine. Now, it's all I have left of the man I
loved.
And the man I love still. My dearest Malcolm.
We just didn't have enough time.
-------
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