Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive ..

Title: Aftermath

Author: Lucy

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Pairing: Tucker/Reed

Rating:NC-17

Category: Slash

Series/Sequel: Sequel to Anniversary

Warning: Dark, mention of rape

Summary: Sequel to Anniversary in which Malcolm and Trip deal with the consequences

Archived to Reed's Armory on 04/24/2004.

Aftermath or How Malcolm Got his Courage Back

Part 1

It was all over. Malcolm was safely back where he belonged on
Enterprise, his bruises slowly fading. The Vulcans had arrived to
take Todd into custody and Trip was fervently grateful that there
would be no further chance for him to escape. He just wanted
everything to go back to normal but what worried him most was that
Malcolm didn't.

There was a haunted, hunted look in the man's grey eyes that hadn't
been there before and he was spending more and more time alone.
Following Phlox's instructions Trip had tried to talk to his lover
about what had happened, what Todd had done to him but whenever he
brought the subject up Malcolm would turn away and refuse to speak.
Their relationship had suffered. Malcolm would only tolerate bodily
contact for brief moments and the nights spent together, talking,
making love or even just sleeping wrapped in each others arms were a
thing of the past. Malcolm slept alone, although from the purple
shadows that seemed to be a permanent fixture under his eyes, one
might wonder if he slept at all. Having yielded, albeit unwillingly,
on the subject of sleeping arrangements, Trip had insisted that they
continue to eat breakfast together, he was determined not to let
Malcolm drift away from him.

This morning however Malcolm wasn't in his quarters and heart
thumping with apprehension Trip sprinted to the mess. He needn't have
worried, Malcolm was there. Ever since he'd been back he had
preferred a seat in the corner, somewhere he could sit and keep his
eyes on everyone and everything.

"Malcolm," Trip smiled. "You got up early this morning."

"I couldn't sleep," the man didn't bother to look up at Trip. "I
needed coffee."

The bruise on his face, Trip realised, was taking a long time to
heal. It was at times like this, looking down at his lover, whose
grey eyes were never still, that he wished he had killed Todd while
he'd had the chance.

"Mal, I..."

"What?" Malcolm glanced up, anger on his face. "You want to talk, you
want to help me? Or is it that you want me to help you feel better?"

"I love you," Trip stated simply. "We can get through this together."

"Together?"

"Yes. We're a couple, Mal..."

"That's what I thought," Malcolm snarled, making no effort to keep
his voice down. "It turns out I was wrong."

"Please. I'm sorry." Trip reached out for Malcolm's hands but the man
snatched them away so violently that he sent his cup of coffee flying.

"Go away Trip. I want to eat breakfast in peace." Malcolm was
bristling with rage and Trip hastily took a step back. Perhaps now
was the right time to step back a little. Malcolm wouldn't be able to
avoid him for long, not on a ship the size of Enterprise. They could
talk later. Besides, he could feel the eyes of every crewman in the
mess on his back and the Chief Engineer and Armoury Officer arguing
in public probably wouldn't be something that Captain Archer would approve of.

_________________________________________________

The twinge of regret that Malcolm felt at driving Trip away was
ruthlessly suppressed. He refused to feel guilty for what Trip was
going through. Malcolm found himself alone, being eyed warily by
other crewmembers whose tables were close to his and he closed his
eyes. None of them could possibly understand what he had been
through, what he was still going through. Down on the planet's
surface with Trip's arms wrapped around him, he had felt safe. But
once back on Enterprise that feeling hadn't lasted very long. A
sudden fear that at any moment he might be snatched away again had
settled on him, compounded by the memory of how totally helpless he
had been while in Todd's custody. Malcolm had never felt as scared as
he did now, not even before he'd learnt self-defence in order to
dissuade the school bullies from picking on him. It was this fear
that made him question his place on Enterprise. After all what use
was a tactical officer who ran and hid in a corner every time
anything bad happened. He felt like a fraud, both in his role on the
ship and as Trip's lover.

"I'm not the man Trip fell in love with," Malcolm reflected bitterly,
"how could he bring himself to love a coward?"

Malcolm stood up, intending to get himself another cup of coffee but
in actual fact he practically ran from the mess, away from his
colleagues, afraid that if he stayed they might discover who the true
Malcolm was.

His stomach grumbled as he walked the corridors. Half a cup of
coffee, that was all it contained, he couldn't face the thought of
eating anything else. No one knew just how little Malcolm had eaten
since coming back aboard Enterprise. It was true that Trip's presence
every morning meant that he had had to eat more then but the rest of
each day would be practically food free. He'd show up at the mess at
the appropriate times and it was no real trouble to make sure his
fellow crewmates let him eat alone. It wasn't that he was trying to
starve himself but along with the fear had come an overwhelming
lethargy that had robbed Malcolm of the desire or the ability to do
anything. His movements and his thoughts were purely mechanical, only
inertia kept him moving. He got up each morning because that was what
he had always done and he went to bed each night for the same reason,
although he would often lie awake for hours before sleep found him.

Crewmen he passed on his way to the bridge greeted him but if asked
afterward Malcolm would have said that he hadn't seen them. Locked up
tight behind a wall of misery, fear and depression Malcolm was dying.
The only man who might have been able to save him was the one man he
kept pushing away.

"Malcolm." Captain Archer greeted him as he walked onto the Bridge
and Malcolm nodded a response but he deftly avoided all other eyes as
he made his way to the tactical station. He busied himself checking
the weapon systems although none of the information that scrolled
past his eyes actually registered. Suddenly dizzy Malcolm swayed but
with an effort he managed to hold himself upright. The next wave of
dizziness made him stagger and Archer glanced up, alarmed.


"Eat it!" The voice held the tone of command but Malcolm had no
intention of doing what it said.

He was sprawled awkwardly, half in and half out of his tiny cage.
There were lumps of meat on the floor in front of his face where Todd
had let the meal fall.

"Eat it!"

"No." Malcolm looked up into Todd's face. He was scared but still
determined to act as the perfect Starfleet officer. However, when he
saw the flare of rage in Todd's eyes he knew his choice of approach
had been the wrong one.

"Have it your own way Malcolm." The first blow landed square on his
stomach and drove the breath from his body, the next, slightly
harder, just missed his kidneys. After that Malcolm couldn't be sure
how many blows fell or where they landed. His entire body was afire
with pain. Finally the beating ceased and Todd's voice once more
growled out the command.

"Eat it!"

Defeated and hardly able to move Malcolm pushed his face to the floor
to lap up the meat. He was chewing his second piece and praying he
would be able to keep it down when Todd began beating him again.
Malcolm cried out in protest but Todd, his face red with anger, paid
no attention to his whimpering.

When the blows stopped falling Malcolm let his head roll to one side
and he opened wary eyes.

"That's what will happen every time you defy me," Todd told him. "Do
you understand?" Malcolm groaned an affirmative and Todd smiled
grimly. "Back in your cage Malcolm."

He didn't dare to disobey and even though every movement was agony he
edged his way backwards, away from his tormentor.


"Malcolm!" Archer knelt over the body of his fallen tactical
officer, lifting one of his cold hands to feel for a pulse. The man
had fallen without making a sound but despite this Archer had been at
his side almost before he hit the floor.

While he waited for Phlox to arrive Archer sat with Malcolm, holding
the cold hands, willing the Lieutenant to be alright. Archer had not
been left unaffected by Todd's kidnap of Malcolm and it had been more
than just worry over the whereabouts and safety of one of his
officers. In one sense his paternal feelings toward Malcolm were not
too surprising. He was the captain of Enterprise after all and every
member of the crew was his responsibility but somehow Malcolm had
become a special case. It certainly wasn't vulnerability that had
intensified the feelings; Malcolm was more than capable of looking
after himself. It was in fact Malcolm's friendship with Trip that had
stimulated the Captain's feelings, at least at first. The abduction
had intensified those feelings, particularly since Archer felt
responsible, at least in part, for what had happened and since
Malcolm's return he had become all too aware of Malcolm's isolation,
even from Trip, the one member of the crew that Malcolm was close to.

Archer chafed Malcolm's fingers trying to warm them up and frowned.
He'd been sure that Trip would be able to help Malcolm and so he'd
deliberately stepped back from the situation but now he wasn't sure
if that had been the right thing to do, or even that there was anyway
he could change things.


Malcolm's body throbbed in time with his heart. It felt as though he
had strained every muscle that it was possible to strain and there
was a nagging, insistent pain in his head. Slowly he opened his eyes,
refusing to let the glare of the lights close them again.

"He's awake."

Trip's voice and Malcolm found himself wishing that he could slide
back into unconsciousness again.

Focus. Slowly his eyes remembered how to focus and he saw Trip's
face, the man was smiling at him.

"How'd you feel?"

"Like I've fallen down a flight of stairs," Malcolm groaned and
pressed a hand to his head. "Where's Doctor Phlox?"

"I'm right here Lieutenant." Phlox moved into Malcolm's line of sight
and smiled down at his patient. "Commander Tucker I wonder if you'd
be so kind as to fetch these instruments for me." Phlox handed Trip a padd.

"I'd like to stay with Malcolm."

"I'm sure he'll cope," Phlox chided.

Trip looked at Malcolm who forced himself to smile and Trip nodded. "Sure Doc."

Once Trip had gone Malcolm found himself being scrutinised closely by
the doctor. Phlox was frowning. "Have you eaten today?"

"No." Malcolm admitted.

"Well," Phlox nodded, "there's the reason why you fainted."

"So I can get back to work now?" Malcolm asked, his hope guttering
out when he saw the expression on Phlox's face.

"I've got just a few routine questions to ask you first Mister Reed
if you don't mind." Phlox glanced over to where Trip was standing;
trying to find the listed instruments and Phlox lowered his voice.
"How long has it been since you last ate properly?"

"I had breakfast yesterday," Malcolm protested.

Phlox raised an eyebrow. "You've lost fourteen pounds over the last
three weeks, you're anaemic and there are over a hundred vitamins and
minerals that your body is lacking."

"Please Doctor," Malcolm started to pull himself upright. "Is any of
this really important?"

"For you to do your job yes. I'm afraid I'm going to have to suspend
you from duty."

"Fine." His face mask-like Malcolm accepted the news.

"You must eat," Phlox urged. "Every crewmember feels for you and what
you went through. We all want to help you if you'll let us."

Numbly Malcolm shook his head. There wasn't one single person on
board Enterprise who could understand the way he was feeling, not
one. "Can I at least go back to my quarters?"

"Of course," Phlox murmured. "I'll speak to Chef and have him prepare
some food for you."

Malcolm nodded but he couldn't bring himself to say thank you. Chef
could bring him a thousand different meals but he wouldn't eat them.
Maybe it was a good thing that he'd been relieved of duty. At least
in his quarters he wouldn't have to endure the stares of those who
worked around him. He didn't say anything before leaving Sickbay, he
certainly didn't want to say anything to Trip. In fact he hoped the
man would take the hint and leave him alone.


"Where'd you go in such a hurry?" Trip asked, concerned for his
lover. He stretched out a hand but Malcolm jerked away so violently
that he tumbled over onto his bunk.

"Let me help you up."

"No." Malcolm snapped and Trip recoiled. "I don't need your help."

"I'm not saying that you do." Trip said. He'd thought himself past
all of Malcolm's defensiveness a long time ago and now here it was
springing up around him like a barrier of thorns.

"Go away Commander."

The use of his title made Trip wince. "No I won't. I'm worried about
you Malcolm. You're not eating, you're barely sleeping, I.."

"You've been talking to Phlox," Malcolm accused.

"No, I haven't. I've got eyes Mal. You're thin as a rake. What's
going on? Please talk to me." Trip pleaded. He looked at Malcolm and
shivered. His lover's eyes were two piece of flint set in a face that
was so hard and unyielding that Trip could barely recognise the man.

"Fine."

Trip blinked in surprise, he hadn't expected Malcolm to concede so easily.

"So what part of all this shall we talk about?" Malcolm's gaze raked
across Trip's face. "Do you want me to tell you how many times Todd
beat me? Or how his crew wanted to rape me?" Malcolm's voice barely
shook and his tone was dangerously quiet. "Perhaps you'd like to talk
about all the letters that you wrote to Todd or the fact that you
still love him."

"No." Trip started forward towards Malcolm. "That's not true." The
world blurred and the next thing Trip was aware of he was lying on
his back, Malcolm's booted foot hovering just inches from his windpipe.

"Don't lie to me." Malcolm growled. "I know you wrote to him. I know
exactly what you told him."

Sweat beaded on Trip's forehead and trickled into his eyes but
somehow Malcolm had pinned his arms to his sides and he couldn't
raise a hand to wipe it away.

"I wrote to him," Trip admitted. "But I never imagined that he'd do
what he did."

"No." Suddenly all Malcolm's ferocity seemed to drop away and he
retreated back to his bunk, curling up and watching with blank eyes
as Trip regained his feet.

"I couldn't fight back," the dark-haired man muttered the words to
himself, hugging his knees to his chest. "I couldn't." The strange
mantra appeared to bring Malcolm some comfort as he rocked back and fourth.

"Mal?" Trip wanted desperately to reach out to the man but his back
was bruised from his earlier fall and he didn't want to risk another.

"Go away Commander." It sounded like a request and for a moment Trip
did consider refusing. "I don't need you anymore."

Sure that he was going to cry, shocked by the cold finality in
Malcolm's voice Trip turned and left.


Part 2

Trip made his way back to Engineering in a daze. He didn't mean it,
Trip tried to convince himself, I know he didn't mean it. But the
conviction that had been in Malcolm's tone gave the lie to his
thought. Maybe he's right to react like that, Trip told himself
sternly. Malcolm's brief description of what had happened to him had
made Trip's blood run cold. I'm responsible.

"Commander?" It was Rostov. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Trip replied, unsure of what he was going to do next.

"Captain Archer wants to see you. He's waiting." Rostov indicated
Trip's tiny office and with a nod of thanks Trip turned his feet that
way. He wasn't sure that he wanted to talk to Archer but what the
Captain wanted the Captain generally got. Trip smiled grimly, if only
it could work that way for him.

"Is this official business?" Trip seated himself opposite his friend,
grimacing as the movement jarred his back.

"Are you alright Trip?"

"I'm fine." Jeez he was starting to sound like Malcolm now. "I've
bruised my back, nothing serious."

"And Malcolm?"

"Angry as hell," Trip admitted, wincing slightly. "I don't think I'm helping."

"Phlox says he hasn't been eating," Archer told Trip. "Do you think
there's anyway you could persuade him?"

Hating himself Trip shook his head. "Malcolm won't listen to me. The
abduction was my fault and I don't think he trusts me any more."

"He said the abduction was your fault?" Archer questioned gently.

"He didn't have to," Trip growled. "Jon I'm sorry but if you want to
know how Malcolm is you'll need to talk to him yourself. He doesn't
trust me anymore." Unconsciously Trip's hands closed into fists. "And
I don't think you should either."

Archer sat back in his chair, his expression serious. "You think all
this will affect your ability to do your job?"

Trip hesitated. "No sir." He answered, every inch a Starfleet officer.

Archer smiled. "Good. You wouldn't be easy to replace." He paused and
reached out towards his friend. "Don't give up on Malcolm Trip. He's
been through a lot and he probably needs you more now than ever."

___________________________________________________________________


Wrapped in sleep Malcolm tossed and turned, hair damp with sweat he
muttered to himself. "It's a dream, it's a dream."


"It's just a dream," Malcolm repeated, crouched in his cage, hands
gripping the bars, trying to maintain some form of circulation. "Just
a dream, just a dream." Bruises stark against his pale skin Malcolm
seemed to have drifted a long way from the neat and tidy Starfleet
officer that he had been.

"Am I a man dreaming he's a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming he's a
man?" Todd mocked Malcolm. "This isn't a dream Malcolm. Would your
beatings hurt so much if it was?"

Malcolm didn't answer, he didn't even look up at Todd's face and the
man's face clouded with anger.

"It's not polite to ignore questions Malcolm," Todd chided, "we've
been over this before but you obviously need another lesson."

It was what he wanted, the door to his cage stood open and awkwardly
Malcolm edged out. He had a knife, concealed in his fist. One of
Todd's crew had dropped it and Malcolm, pain shooting through his
arms as he forced them to respond had managed to reach it. He didn't
wait but stabbed upwards at Todd's heart but the knife wasn't sharp
enough and Malcolm wasn't quick enough and before he truly knew what
was going on Todd had disarmed him and knocked him to the floor.
Unprotected, unable to move Malcolm had no choice but to suffer the
beating that Todd meted out to him, his cries went unnoticed and the
knife, the symbol of his rebellion, lay unnoticed on the floor close by.
_____________________________________________________________________________

Unable to sleep Travis was prowling the corridors when he heard
Malcolm's cries. Immediately the young man raced for the nearest comm
point and alerted Captain Archer to what he had heard. Archer, Trip
and Phlox arrived practically simultaneously and Travis quickly told
them what he'd heard.

"Well he's quiet now," Phlox commented, "I wonder if that's good or bad."

"Trip if you wouldn't mind," Archer gestured at the door and in a
matter of seconds Trip had it open.

The men looked in on a scene of devastation. The coverings from
Malcolm's bunk were strewn on the floor and it looked as though the
entire contents of the desk had been swept onto the floor.

"Malcolm?"

The man was curled on his bunk, arms wrapped around his knees. Arms
that, Trip realised with horror, were covered in blood.

"Mal?" Trip moved forward but Archer held him back, there was an
ornamented dagger lying on the floor, its blade splashed with blood.
"It was a birthday present," Trip explained as Phlox picked up the
weapon, "from his sister."

"Lieutenant," Phlox folded his arms as he appraised the damage. "I
don't think it's as bad as it looks," he told his companions cheerily.

"Malcolm?" Trip sank down next to his lover and winced at the sight
of the wounds that the man had inflicted on himself. He reached
across and pushed sweat-dampened hair off the pale forehead. "What did you do?"

Confused grey eyes met concerned blue ones. "I was dreaming, I think.
The knife wasn't sharp enough."

"No, and I think we can all be grateful for that fact." Phlox
commented calmly, as he began to wipe the drying blood from Malcolm's arms.

Standing in the doorway Archer bowed his head. Seeing his normally
more than capable armoury officer like this had just deepened the
burden of responsibility that he carried. "Doctor," Archer beckoned
the man to his side. "All this was caused by a dream? Malcolm didn't
consciously hurt himself?"

"I believe so, a kind of night-terror if you will."

"So you can give him something to stop him from dreaming, from doing
this again?"

Phlox's face softened. "I will do everything I can for Mister Reed,"
he promised. "Of course what is really needed in a situation like
this is to get to the root cause, much more effective than merely
treating the symptoms."

Archer nodded slowly. "Trip says he doesn't want to discuss what
happened to him."

"That's hardly surprising. Don't worry, he needs time. But in the
meantime I think sickbay is the best place for Lieutenant Reed."
________________________________________________________________________

Trip looked exhausted, Archer realised, he doubted the man had slept
at all despite all of Phlox's exhortations to rest.

"How is he?"

"Bloodshot eyes struggled to focus on Archer's face. "Sleeping." Trip sighed.

"You should be too."

"How can I." Trip stepped away from Malcolm's side. "Phlox says his
wounds weren't that bad but what if they had been? I don't want to lose him."

Archer put an arm around the younger man and for a moment Trip rested
his head on Archer's shoulder, seeking strength.

"You won't lose him." Archer murmured quietly, vividly reminded of a
time, just over ten years ago, when he had last held Trip in his arms
to comfort him, following the arrest of his lover for murder. "He
loves you, that's all that matters."

Trip nodded, blue eyes unfocused from lack of sleep.

"Now bed Commander. Malcolm isn't going anywhere."

"Yes sir." Trip managed a weak smile and Archer gently guided him to
the doorway.

"Things will look better in the morning."
__________________________________________________________________

The drugs present in his system pushed Malcolm down, deep into his
subconsciousness. He was falling, he realised, the light above him
receding as his arms fought to gain a handhold, anything that might
stop this interminable descent. With a grunt Malcolm slammed into the
ground. Lying on his back he could see a circle of blue sky above
him, it seemed so far away that reaching it would be an
impossibility. Mentally Malcolm began to catalogue his injuries, no
broken bones he was pleased to note, although his left ankle felt
very sore and the impact with the ground had jarred his back, but
nothing serious, nothing life-threatening. The light above him was
abruptly blocked out by an arm descending towards him. Trip. But as
he reached out towards the questing fingers, the ground beneath him
disappeared and with a scream he started to fall again. A blink of
the eyes and he was floating in space, stars all around him. Beneath
him the Earth spun on its axis, oblivious to his presence and when he
turned his head he found that Trip was floating next to him. But
another blink of the eyes transformed his lover into Todd and Malcolm
was suddenly fighting to get away.

The next thing the man was aware of he was back in his cage, shaking
with fear as Todd stalked towards him, bodily dragging him out into
the cargo bay. But as Todd raised his hand to strike Malcolm he was
transformed into Trip. Malcolm tried to call out but the fist
continued its descent and the impact caused the man to fall
thankfully into unconsciousness.
__________________________________________________________________________

It felt, Malcolm reflected, as he fought his way back to wakefulness,
as though he'd been asleep for a month. Not long enough, it hadn't
exorcised the fear that had been his constant companion for these
past weeks. Even now he could feel its cold tendrils creeping through
his mind, chasing away the warmth that a dreamless sleep had brought.
Malcolm shivered and turned over onto his side, slowly allowing his
eyes to open.

"You're awake," Phlox's voice greeted him and Malcolm reluctantly
pulled himself into a seated position.

"How long?"

"Ten hours. I expect you're hungry."

Not really, he wanted to say but somehow Malcolm didn't think that
was the right answer. Besides Phlox had already bustled off, no doubt
to find him some food. His arms were swathed in bandages and slowly
he set his fingers to unwinding them. So engrossed was he in
revealing the cut and broken flesh beneath them that he didn't hear
Phlox come back in.

"Malcolm?"

That wasn't Phlox but Archer. Startled the man looked up his hands
momentarily arrested, cradling the bandages against his stomach.

"I did this?" he asked and just for a moment saw a flicker of despair
in the Captain's hazel eyes.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." A one word answer that was a lie. He wasn't fine. From
somewhere deep inside a voice reminded him that none of what he felt
was Archer's fault but he refused to listen. He let the bandages fall
and stood up. A hiss of air escaped his lips as some of the scabs
already forming on his arms broke. Stunned by the sight of blood
trickling down his arms Malcolm froze and he barely felt Archer's
hands guiding him back to the bed.

"When can I go back to my quarters?"

"When you've eaten something." Phlox answered, placing a tray across
Malcolm's lap.

Malcolm didn't argue and despite the vocal protest his stomach was
making at the thought of food he sullenly lifted the spoon and started to eat.
___________________________________________________________________________

Unlike Malcolm, Trip had not eaten breakfast that morning.
Engineering, he decided, would have to cope without him and if anyone
came looking for him he would just sit tight until they went away
again. The image of Malcolm, bloodied lines crisscrossing his arms,
was one that he was unable to shake. Malcolm hadn't meant to hurt
himself like that, he told himself but he couldn't escape the feeling
that the man was slowly sliding away from him.

Scrubbing his hands through his hair Trip climbed to his feet,
determined to go to Malcolm's quarters and remove any and all items
that might become weapons in the hands of the armoury officer.

Of course the one thing he hadn't expected to see when he got to
Malcolm's quarters was Malcolm.

"I locked the door," Malcolm stated, grey eyes like chips of ice.

"I'm not Chief Engineer for nothing." Trip folded his arms defensively.

"What do you want?"

There was no way to answer that question, no way to stop the despair
from filling him as he realised that Malcolm was lost to him.

"How are you feeling?" Trip was relieved to see that Malcolm was
wearing his uniform; he didn't think that he could handle another
sight of the man's maimed arms. Instantly he told himself off, told
himself that Malcolm had suffered far worse.

"I'm fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"We're worried about you." Trip had expected a response to that, some
vaguely sarcastic comment, not intended to wound exactly, but painful
nonetheless.

"You told Todd that you were going to ask me to marry you." Malcolm's
grey eyes were serious. "Were you?"

Trip swallowed and leaning against the door he prepared his answer.
"I'd intended to ask you the night of our anniversary."

"Why didn't you?"

"You found the picture of Todd." Trip looked up but Malcolm refused
to meet his gaze. "I don't love him anymore," Trip stated with
conviction, "but I wasn't sure enough of myself, I wasn't sure enough
to know if you'd say yes."

Wary grey eyes lifted and a voice from which all hope, all life had
been extinguished replied, "just for the record I would have said yes."

"It was never my intention for any of this to happen," Trip murmured
fervently, reaching out towards Malcolm, unsure of anything except
for the conviction that he wanted to erase all the hurt he had caused
his lover. He took a step forward and another until he was close
enough to wrap his arms around Malcolm and concentrated on
eradicating all resistance to his touch. Awareness of the world
around him fled as Trip felt Malcolm's warmth beneath his fingers. He
pushed away the faint question in his mind as to whether or not he
was doing the right thing, whether or not Malcolm wanted this.

Working of their own accord his hands began to strip Malcolm's
clothing. He felt the other man's response; it was Malcolm's hands
that rose to help Trip undress and Malcolm's lips that closed on his
own for a bittersweet kiss. These things Trip would recall later to
convince himself that he hadn't forced Malcolm, that he had only
taken what was freely offered. As he moved, as the cries of pleasure
escaped from his lips Trip heard Malcolm's words back over in his head.

"Just for the record I would have said yes."

He should have been able to blame Todd for that chilling response,
for the fact that Malcolm had spoken those words, but in reality it
was his own fault, he had condemned himself by his inability to let
the past remain the past and the final cry that burst from his throat
was not one of pleasure but of despair.
_______________________________________

It felt as though he were floating in darkness, the peace only
disturbed by his own breathing. Pushing against this envelope of
blackness Malcolm became aware of another presence. I invited this.
Malcolm pushed the thought away as he realised that the weight on top
of him was the weight of a body. He could feel the heat of pulsating
blood but was unsure as to whether or not it was his blood. He pushed
a little harder against the darkness and it began to slowly
dissipate, replaced by a greater sense of awareness. Trip. His
returning faculties found a name for the body he could feel, a name
that was accompanied by a terrible sense of desolation.

I think I wanted this. He rejected that outright, aware now not only
of Trip's presence on him but in him as well. He could feel each
thrust of the man's pelvis, could hear each cry from Trip's mouth and
feel the small puffs of air against his cheek. His body remembered
this; it was a familiar situation but Malcolm's mind cried out
against the assault. His skin was burning, his own body responding to
what it recalled as being pleasurable but Malcolm, with an effort,
brought his body under his mind's control.

Trip was thrusting more quickly now, soon it would be over and the
reluctance he experienced at the thought of what he was about to lose
was something that Malcolm was unable to banish. Trip's final voicing
of his pleasure sounded strange in Malcolm's ears but he allowed
himself no time to dwell on why, it was imperative rather to escape
from his position. It was remarkably easy to push the other man's
body away, no words were needed, the distress in Trip's eyes as he
dressed said everything.

It wasn't until he was alone that he realised the scabs on his arms
were once again broken and oozing blood.


Part 3

He'd managed to fall asleep, which in itself was unexpected but what
was more unexpected was the hand stroking his leg. "Trip?"

"I'm afraid not." The voice was rough and gravely, nothing like
Trip's soft drawl.

"Where am I?" Stupid question really, he knew exactly where he was;
the bars of the cage pressing into his back gave it away.

"You're pretty when you're asleep." The hand was still stroking his
thigh and Malcolm would have pulled away if there had been anywhere
he could have gone.

"What do you want?" Later Malcolm would wish those words back into his mouth.

"I thought you had better manners than that." The man smiled and a
new wave of sweat broke out over Malcolm's body. The hand was now
sliding rapidly up his leg.

"Oren!"

Relief as the hand suddenly withdrew. Todd had entered the cargo bay
and Malcolm found that he was almost pleased to see him.

"I hope you're behaving yourself."

"I wouldn't do anything else Boss. He's pretty though."

"Charlie always did have good taste. "

Malcolm shuddered and tried hard to hold his gaze steady when Todd
crouched down by his cage.

"What about you?"

He wasn't expecting an answer so Malcolm wisely kept his mouth shut.

"He's still answering back." Oren put in, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

"Is he?" Todd unlocked the cage. "Get out Malcolm." But Todd didn't
wait for the man to move and instead reached in to haul him out.

Malcolm did his best not to sprawl on the floor. He could hear Oren
laughing and Todd growling at him to get up.

Then Todd's face was right in front of him. "I will break you," he
snarled. "You think you're going to be reunited with Charlie? By the
time I'm finished with you he won't know you."

"I'm sorry." Malcolm choked out the words, hating himself.

"Not good enough." Todd stood up and a moment later his booted foot
connected painfully with Malcolm's side.

Malcolm cried out but there was no one to help him.
________________________________________________


He woke, shaking and it took a long time for the shuddering to stop.
When it finally did Malcolm curled up on his bunk and began to cry.
Todd had been right and Trip in fact no longer knew who he was.

"And if he did he wouldn't want to know me." Malcolm choked out the
words. He thought of the way he had reacted earlier, pushing Trip
away but what choice had he actually had? How could he let Trip
close, trust him when he wasn't even sure that he trusted himself anymore.

Malcolm howled out his anguish, beating his fists against his legs,
renewing the bruises that had so very nearly healed. Not really aware
of what he was doing Malcolm clawed at his arms, further reopening
the wounds and letting them bleed freely. The pain was intense and he
climbed unsteadily to his feet and pulled on his uniform. He could
smell Trip and the memory of the happiness that he had once felt in
the man's presence made him feel even worse. Utter despair gripped
him and he fled from his quarters.

Malcolm noticed neither the stares of the crewmen he passed nor his
own tears. He let his feet take care of themselves. Everywhere he
walked, every step was torture, everything reminded him of Trip, even
the faint thrumming he could feel in the walls when he rested his
head against them.

"I can't stay on Enterprise." Saying those words was painful but
Malcolm realised that there was relief as well and a little of the
fog cleared from his mind. Maybe if he was away from here he would be
able to forget what had happened, maybe.

Satisfied that his decision was the right one Malcolm felt that
perhaps now he could face returning to his quarters. He'd become
disorientated in his wanderings and for a moment he wasn't even sure
what deck he was on.

"Malcolm?"

Archer and Phlox were standing at the end of the corridor and idly
Malcolm wondered how they had found him when he didn't even know
where he was himself.

"Captain, Doctor." They were walking towards him and he eyed them warily.

"It's okay Malcolm." Archer's tone was soothing and the man reached
out to hold his arms. "I want you to go back to the infirmary, just
for tonight."

"No," Malcolm pulled away and left Archer staring at his hands in
horror. The sleeves of Malcolm's uniform were soaked in blood and
Phlox stepped forward, gently rolling up his sleeves and calmly
assessing the new damage that Malcolm had inflicted on himself.

"I'm going back to my quarters." Malcolm made to push past Captain
Archer but at a discreet nod from the Captain two security men
stepped forward to flank Malcolm. He knew their names, Wilson and
Scott and he tried hard not to see the sympathy in their eyes as they
advanced towards him. Helpless Malcolm stood quietly as Phlox pressed
a hypospray against his neck. The world went black.
__________________________________________________

"Trip." Exhausted Archer looked up as his friend entered his office,
he'd barely slept last night, wondering if he had done the right
thing or not with Malcolm, although the disregard the man had shown
for his own well-being suggested that he had. Now here was Trip
looking as though he were about to explode. "Where were you last
night?" Trip looked surprised, the man hadn't been expecting to be
questioned and Archer noted that Trip looked every bit as exhausted as he felt.

"In Engineering."

"So you don't know anything about Malcolm?" Archer sighed. "Several
crewmen saw him wandering through the corridors last night, he was
barefoot and muttering to himself."

Trip shook his head but there was no mistaking the guilt in his eyes.

Archer let the silence hang in the air, waiting for Trip to speak.

"I raped him!"

Not exactly the response Archer had been expecting and for a moment
he was floored.

"Jon?"

The look of despair in his friend's blue eyes prompted Archer to take
a step forward, above all else he wanted to comfort Trip but right
now detachment was what was needed if he was to sort out the truth of
what had just happened.

"How did it happen?"

"I went to Malcolm's quarters," deliberately Trip turned his back to
Archer so the man wouldn't be able to see his face. "I wanted to make
sure it was safe, so if he had anymore nightmares he wouldn't..
wouldn't.." Trip's voice trailed off, the engineer still couldn't
comprehend why Malcolm had injured himself and Archer put a
comforting hand on his shoulder. "But Malcolm was already there."
Trip drew in a long shuddering breath and turned to face his friend.
"I wanted to marry him," he admitted quietly, "and I told Todd."

Archer couldn't hide his distress at that news. "You really thought
that was the right thing to do?"

"I don't know. I should have been more aware.. should have known but
I really thought Todd would be happy for me. His letters were always
so positive." Trip folded his arms across his chest. "I never asked
Malcolm." If anything his voice had become even quieter. "I wanted to
but when the moment came I just couldn't do it."

"Todd told him." Archer guessed.

"Malcolm told me that he would have said yes," a howl of anguish
burst from Trip's lips at this admission. "I could have been happy,
Malcolm could have been happy."

"And after that?"

Trip's eyes were full of emotion when he looked back at Archer. "I
wanted to hold him, I thought maybe.. I don't know. Then we were
undressing each other and making love. I thought it was what Malcolm
wanted but when it was over he pushed me away. He told me to get
out." Trip's voice was anguished. "He couldn't bear to look at me."

"That wasn't rape," Archer told Trip gently. "You can't believe that
Malcolm would let that happen to him."

"While he was on Todd's ship," Trip growled, having to force the
words out, "Todd's crew tried to rape him and I'm just as bad as they are now."

"No. All you're guilty of is bad judgement. It wasn't your fault that
what happened happened and you're certainly not as bad as the people
who tried to rape Malcolm." Archer found that it physically hurt to
say those words, to think that something like that could happen to
one of his officers was beyond belief. "Malcolm loves you. Despite
everything that's happened to him he still loves you. You will
survive this." Archer put a comforting hand on Trip's arm. "Malcolm
needs time that's all."

Trip shook his head. "I don't think so Jon. Everything that has
happened to him, everything that he needs time to get over is my
fault." His voice dripped with self-loathing. "And the worst thing is
that he's not the same Malcolm I fell in love with. Hell, I still
love him but when he looks at me it's as if the past coupla years
hasn't happened and we've only just met." Trip clenched his fists.
"You remember how he was. He wouldn't talk to me, except to say 'yes
Commander'. I don't want to go back to that."

"I'll talk to Malcolm." Archer promised. "Until I do hold tight. I
doubt things are as bad as you think. And get some sleep, that's an order."

"No, they're worse." Trip muttered, refusing to have his mood
lightened in any way.
_________________________________________________

Waking up and remembering where he was and why he was there hadn't
been much fun. Even less fun had been seeing the security guard
standing by the infirmary door. The only thing that had given Malcolm
any hope was the thought that today he had a plan; resignation from
Starfleet was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Scowling
Malcolm had listened as Phlox had exhorted him to eat and told him
that he was under strict orders to return to see him later that day
and then every day until he was told otherwise. But finally Phlox had
let him leave and return to his quarters.
_________________________________________________________________

Going to see Archer later that day Malcolm had dragged his feet,
unsure as to why the Captain would want to talk to him and all the
time hyper-aware of the man trailing him.

Archer's first words left Malcolm in a state of shock.

"Trip raped me?" Malcolm stared at Archer and he said the words
almost as though he didn't know what they meant.

"That's what he told me." Archer sank back into his chair and rested
his hands on his desk. "It's a serious accusation."

"And one that I'm not making," Malcolm pointed out.

As he watched his armoury officer Archer couldn't help but feel a
terrible sense of foreboding. He had worked so hard to get Trip and
Malcolm together, had seen how right they were for each other long
before they had and to see it all come to such a tragic end was a
terrible thing. Archer knew that this was it, he could read it in
Malcolm's body language, the rigid line of his shoulders, the
blankness in the cool grey eyes and he wanted to scream, cry out at
the inherent unjustness of the situation. But starship captains don't
scream, they merely deal coolly and calmly with each situation as
they arise and keep their emotions in check.

"Malcolm I really think you need to talk to someone about what
happened. If you won't talk to Trip perhaps Phlox could help you or me."

"I'm resigning my posting." Malcolm's voice was distant and cold.
"Enterprise needs an armoury officer who is actually capable of doing his job."

"You've taken another assignment?" Archer was surprised by the flood
of emotion that followed Malcolm's statement.

"No. I'm leaving Starfleet, for good." A mirthless smile twisted
Malcolm's lips. "At least my father will be happy."

"I can't change your mind?"

"No sir. Admiral Forrest," Malcolm handed Archer a padd, "is
arranging for a ship to take me back to Earth. These are the
rendezvous coordinates."

Archer put the padd on his desk without looking at it. "Have you told Trip?"

"Commander Tucker," Malcolm growled out the name and Archer's heart
sank, "will doubtless hear about my resignation via the ship's
grapevine. I've never known it to fail before."

"You don't think he deserves to hear it from you? He loves you
Malcolm and I know you love him too." Archer said gently.

Malcolm's face hardened. "I would prefer Captain that my personal
life remain personal."

"Very well Lieutenant," Archer replied with the same cool tone. "It's
been a pleasure working with you."

"Likewise Captain."

"Dismissed." Malcolm turned to go and as the door swooshed shut
behind him Archer let his head fall forward, careful that the salty
drops falling from his eyes would not stain his uniform.
___________________________________________

He'd done his best to obey Captain Archer but after four hours of
staring into the darkness Trip had given up and gone back to
Engineering. It was thankfully quiet when Trip entered and as he made
his way towards his office he overheard two ensigns gossiping.

"What did you say?" Something in their conversation piqued Trip's
interest and he quickly closed the gap between himself and the two young women.

"N..nothing sir." The brunette stammered, blushing.

"You were talking about Malcolm," Trip snarled. "Why?"

"Lieutenant.. Lieutenant Reed has resigned, he's leaving Enterprise."
There was a real quiver in her voice but Trip didn't hear it. "Sir?"

But the man had gone, sprinting out of Engineering as though there
were a pack of dogs on his tail.


Part 4

"Commander." Malcolm nodded at Trip courteously as the two passed but
the taller man reached out and grabbed the shorter.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Trip growled, his unhappiness
and despair manifesting as aggression.

"I'm not playing at anything." Malcolm pulled away and smoothed down
his uniform.

Trip let his hands fall to his side, he searched desperately for the
right words, aware that the conversation had started badly and then
he saw the security man standing only a few feet away and trying hard
to pretend he wasn't listening. "They've got you under guard now?"

"Captain Archer's idea." Malcolm responded quietly. "I thought you knew."

"No." Trip growled. "Just like I didn't know that you'd resigned."

"I'm making an informed career choice."

"Like hell you are." Trip retorted. "You didn't talk to me about it."

"I wasn't aware I needed to. With all due respect Commander you're
not my direct superior." Malcolm could clearly see the pain in Trip's
eyes but he ignored it. He was no longer good enough for Trip and
soon enough the man would see it too.

"Dammit Malcolm I love you. You can't just up and leave without
talking to me about it." Watching Malcolm's face Trip was sure that
he saw his eyes fill with emotion but then he blinked and the
emotionless mask was back in place.

"I don't love you." Malcolm stated calmly, a lie, but a necessary
one. "I haven't loved you for a long time. Now if you wouldn't mind Commander."

Trip stepped neatly out of the way and watched Malcolm stride away
down the corridor. "Dammit Malcolm!" He punched the wall. "Why do you
have to be so pig-headed?"
___________________________________________________

"You're just going to let him go?"

Archer didn't need to look up to know that Trip was standing by his
desk, quivering with rage, but he did so anyway.

"I can't do anything else, believe me I've tried."

"Not good enough." Trip snarled. "You have to make him stay."

"The only one who can do that is you."
__________________________________________________________________

Malcolm was tired. Despite his resignation Archer had insisted that
he see Phlox every day. The doctor was an expert it at asking
questions that seemed to know no end, even when Malcolm merely sat in
sullen silence, refusing to answer.

He made his way back to his quarters slowly, stopping to rest every
few yards, refusing any help from his shadow. There was a headache
pounding behind his left temple and Malcolm thought longingly of his bed.

"Finally," He murmured as he arrived back at his quarters, leaning
his head for a moment against the cool metal before letting the door
slide open.

"Malcolm!"

It took a little while for Malcolm's tired eyes to take in his
surroundings. Trip was standing by his bunk, two glasses of champagne
in his hands and behind him, Malcolm noticed, his bunk had been
strewn with rose petals. Deep in his heart he was touched by Trip's
gesture but overlying that was the overwhelming belief that he was no
longer good enough for the man and so Malcolm struck out.

"Get out!" Malcolm thumped the door panel and the door slid open. "I
don't know what you think you're doing but get out!"

"Mal please."

Subconsciously Malcolm realised Trip was crying, his tears diluting
the champagne that was threatening to spill onto the floor.

"Out!"

"I know you didn't mean what you said and I just wanted us to take
some time to be together, to start over."

"I did mean it." Malcolm's voice was full of rage. "It won't work."
Malcolm stated bluntly. "Too much has happened."

Trip nodded curtly. His hands shaking he placed the glasses on
Malcolm's desk and then hurried through the door. He didn't look back
and Malcolm allowed the door to slide closed before curling up on the
floor and sobbing with despair.
_________________________________________________________

"Captain I have a request to make."

"For you Doctor, anything." Archer tried to smile but was afraid that
it came out as more of a grimace.

"It isn't so much for me as for my Tyrellian slugs. They've been
ravenous these past few days and I'm almost out of food for them."
The concern in Phlox's voice made Archer smile.

"What can I do?"

"The route we're on passes close to a large trading port and I was
hoping perhaps we might take a short detour."

"Of course I'll have Travis alter our course."

"Thank you Captain."
_____________________________________

It was no good. Every day that he had to spend on Enterprise was
torture. Everything he saw reminded him of Trip and in self-defence
Malcolm now no longer ventured out of his quarters. His nightmares
had eased a little but the scars on his arms were still swollen and
painful, a vivid reminder of all that had happened to him. He still
wasn't eating and the gaunt features that stared back at him when he
looked in a mirror he no longer recognised.

The Captain wanted to see him and although Malcolm wanted to refuse
there was still enough of the Starfleet officer left in him to make
him put on his now ill-fitting uniform and leave his quarters for the
first time in days.

"I'm afraid it's going to take us a little longer to our rendezvous
than we had planned." Archer forced the words out, trying not to show
just how shocked he was by Malcolm's appearance.

"May I ask why?"

"Doctor Phlox needs to pick up some medical supplies but it should
only make us late by a couple of days."

"Thank you for informing me Captain."

Archer forced a smile. "Dismissed Lieutenant."

Alone again Archer stood up, the smile gone. There was, he knew,
absolutely nothing he could do for Malcolm. The situation had
spiralled so far out of his control that he could almost feel
grateful that Malcolm had resigned. Trip was no longer speaking to
him and if what he'd heard was true Trip was no longer speaking to
anyone. His behaviour in Engineering was impulsive and aggressive. He
was forcing his team to work longer and longer shifts and pushing
them harder than ever. Despite the stress Archer knew Trip must be
causing it spoke volumes of his team's loyalty that no one had yet
made a complaint against him. Archer could only hope that Malcolm's
departure from Enterprise might calm Trip down a little, that no
longer being on the same ship as the man he had loved and lost would
help the engineer regain his equilibrium. The last thing Archer
wanted to do was to have to discipline his friend.
__________________________________________


Unable to sleep Malcolm was pacing up and down in the tiny space that
had, in the last few days, become his entire world. Eventually he
came to a standstill and it was then that he realised with a faint
shiver that the engines had stopped. Malcolm recalled what Archer had
told him about Phlox's need for supplies and his body suddenly seemed
possessed, moving without conscious thought.

Quickly Malcolm dressed, picking out his clothes with care, anything
too bright or showy would have to be left behind and the man didn't
even glance at his uniforms, he wouldn't be wearing those again. The
swoosh of the door as it opened seemed unbearably loud and the man on
the door turned towards him, but Malcolm was ready, pressure applied
in the correct place and his guard was flat on the floor. Malcolm
took the time to drag the unconscious man into his quarters; by the
time he was found Malcolm would be long gone.

Luckily this was the quietest period in Enterprise's day and Malcolm
thanked his lucky stars that there were so few crew about in the
corridors. By the time he reached the airlock he'd only seen a couple
of the maintenance crew and hiding until they'd passed hadn't been
difficult. As he stepped from the airlock into the environs of the
trading station Malcolm took a deep breath. The air was stale,
recycled a thousand times through filters which had long needed
replacing but it was the air of freedom and Malcolm exhaled with
relief and then hurried off into the station proper, without looking back.


Part 5

Blinking wearily Trip raised his head and tried to rub the stiffness
out of his neck. He'd fallen asleep in his office again after having
spent another long night trying to find something for his mind and
hands to do to stop himself thinking about Malcolm. Pushing his chair
backwards Trip grimaced. How many days had he been wearing the same
uniform for?

Heading back to his quarters for a shower Trip instead found his feet
taking him to Malcolm's quarters, he couldn't seem to help himself
despite the fact that once again he was running the risk of
rejection. The absence of the security man outside Malcolm's quarters
hurried his feet and Trip hastily over-rode the lock on the door and
stepped inside.

"Commander!" A very groggy looking man tried to climb to his feet
when Trip entered but the engineer stopped him from rising.

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. The door opened and Lieutenant Reed stepped out and
then the next thing I know I'm waking up here." The man looked very
confused and Trip patted him on the shoulder and then hoisted him to
his feet. "Go and report to Doctor Phlox, I'll tell the Captain
what's happened."

"Yes sir." The man replied and left quickly, obviously relived that
he would not have to tell Captain Archer that he had lost his charge.

Alone in Malcolm's quarters Trip stared around hopelessly. A lone
rose petal lay under the desk and Trip bent to pick it up, crushing
it between thumb and forefinger he pushed it into a pocket, a
reminder of everything that should have been his. It was only as he
straightened that Trip realised that Malcolm's closet was almost
empty. For a moment or two Trip stared in horror as his brain put two
and two together, then he turned and raced from the room.
______________________________________________________


"Malcolm's gone!" Trip practically exploded out of the turbo lift and
onto the bridge. Then he realised that the entire bridge was staring
at him and his face reddened.

"Malcolm's gone." He repeated the words slightly more quietly and
strode quickly to Archer's side.

"Well that is what he wanted," Archer pointed out gently, hiding his
alarm at the fact that Malcolm had left Enterprise without warning.
Given his mental state Archer had been having doubts about handing
him over to the Vulcans in the first place.

"Not like this. He didn't give anyone a chance to say goodbye," or me
a chance to try and change his mind, Trip added silently. "We can't
just let him go like this." The man was silently pleading with Archer
to do something; his blue eyes were full of pain and fear.

He can't let Malcolm go, Archer thought. I think I knew the first
time I saw them arguing that they'd end up together and now they're
further apart than I would have ever thought possible.

"Trip," Archer stood up and his friend's eyes focused on him with
renewed hope, "you're right, we should give Malcolm a proper send
off." Trip opened his mouth and Archer hurried to forestall him.
"T'pol will take Enterprise to the rendezvous coordinates and then
return here. That's how long we have to find Malcolm."

A beautiful smile blossomed on Trip's face and Archer struggled to
beat out the vain hope within him, that maybe if they did manage to
find Malcolm they might be able to persuade him to stay.
________________________________________________________

Hunched in a too small seat and utterly miserable Malcolm sat aboard
the transport and tried to ignore the way it shook as it took off
from yet another small planet. The last two days had been spent
planet hopping and by now he was heartily sick of it. Sleeping
quarters on the transport were virtually non-existent and washing
facilities didn't exist at all. It certainly wasn't the most stylish
escape in the universe but the privations that he was suffering paled
into insignificance when he considered that now he was free.

Enterprise was behind him now, a distant memory and it was a welcome
relief to no longer be on board. He no longer had to suffer the
stares of his fellow crewmates as he stalked the corridors or confine
himself to his quarters, merely so he wouldn't run the risk of seeing
Trip. The name conjured up a faint sense of unease and Malcolm would
have squirmed in his seat had there been the room to squirm. Despite
the fact that their relationship had fallen apart a long time ago,
Malcolm was worried that his treatment of Trip had been a little shabby.

He loves me, he thought bitterly, and I should have said goodbye.
Then a bitter smell from the transport's galley set the passengers
around him coughing and spluttering and Malcolm gagged. He was
reminded all too vividly of his time held captive by Trip's ex-lover.
The ex-lover that he had never known about, the ex-lover that Trip
had been writing to. A chill swept over Malcolm and he pulled the
blanket draped over his shoulders across his head. Maybe he could
have forgiven Trip for the lies, for everything that had happened.
Perhaps they could have kept their friendship intact if not for the
fear. Malcolm clutched his blanket tighter. The fear was what had, in
the end, driven him off Enterprise. Every time he had seen another
member of the crew he was vividly reminded of the fact that they
expected him to protect them. Him, a man who wasn't even capable of
protecting himself, who saw shadows lurking in every corner and spent
every moment afraid that he would once more feel the icy tingle of a
transporter beam locking on to him and snatching him away. That was
what he had failed to communicate to Trip, the fact that he was
mortally afraid, plagued by nightmares and unable to fulfil the
expectations of those around him.

"He wouldn't have understood anyway," Malcolm muttered under his breath.

"Who wouldn't have understood?"

Unwillingly Malcolm turned his head, realising that he now had a
neighbour. A neighbour who was leering at him in a way that made
Malcolm shudder.

"I was talking to myself." Malcolm looked away and tried in vain to
make himself smaller.

"Talk to me." There was a hint of command in the alien's voice and
suddenly Malcolm felt a hand on his chin, pulling his face round,
forcing him to look into the swirling purple eyes and fear rose up,
swamping his senses and Malcolm was fighting to get away.

"Don't go." A scaly hand clamped down hard on Malcolm's arm and as a
finger reached out to bring his chin around so that Malcolm was now
facing the stranger, all his resistance melted away.

"That's better." The alien reached out and stroked Malcolm's hair.
"Oh yes, you'll do," he crooned.

His head felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton wool and his
eyelids were beginning to droop but Malcolm didn't fight the feeling,
there wasn't any reason to after all. Malcolm let his eyes fall shut,
he hadn't felt this tired in a long time and a deep dreamless sleep
beckoned enticingly to him.

"I wouldn't if I were you," a deep voice said into Malcolm's ear and
the young man jerked awake irritably. The purple-eyed alien had gone
and the man who had taken his place was wearing the uniform of the
transporter guards.

"Who are you?" Malcolm frowned and feeling threatened, he pulled his
blanket closer.

"The name's Jak. I've been keeping an eye on you since you came
aboard and it's just as well."

"Keeping an eye on me?" Malcolm echoed, did he really stand out that much?

"You're a good looking man," Jak commented and coughed in discomfit.
"Not that it matters to me of course but to Murrain.."

"Who's Murrain?" Malcolm made sure he held Jak's gaze while one hand
searched for the knife he had brought with him.

"Your weapon's gone," Jak stated bluntly. "It's the first thing
Murrain would have taken. He doesn't like to let his merchandise harm itself."

"Who's Murrain?" Malcolm repeated.

"He's a trader, gemstones, cloth, wine in the main, but he also has a
profitable little side-line in slaves. Handsome young males for preference."

"He wanted me for a slave?" Malcolm exclaimed in disgust.

"Would have had you too, 'cept for me. It's my job to keep an eye out
for anyone I think Murrain might take an interest in."

"Thank you." Malcolm said sincerely. "The last thing I need right now
is to be carted off as a slave and sold."

"You might have been ransomed," Jak admitted. "If you have friends
Murrain might have been prepared to sell you to them."

"I don't have any friends." Malcolm told Jak, mentally wincing at the
thought of what Trip might say had he been asked to pay for Malcolm's freedom.

Jak nodded symapthically. "The transport will be stopping again soon.
I'd get off if I were you. We don't want to give Murrain another
chance at you."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Not a problem." Jak stood up and then bent his head towards Malcolm
as a thought occurred to him. "When you get off look for Callum's
bar. Callum's a good man, looks out for those like you, humans I mean."
___________________________________________________________

Their luck had held, this far anyway, Archer reflected as he and Trip
picked their way through the jostling crowds. They had very quickly
established that Malcolm had indeed come aboard the station from
Enterprise and had been seen buying a ticket for the transport that
linked the station with a trading network of planets. Humans were
still relatively rare in this part of the galaxy and so a sizeable
number of people had noted Malcolm's presence. Unfortunately for
them, the transport was the only means of contact, aside from private
vessels with the outlying planets and it would not be back at the
station for two weeks. Hence Trip and Archer's haste as they tried to
locate a vessel that would take them where they needed to go. After
eight hours of searching they managed to find an Andorian who was
willing to lend them a small shuttle. Although he was a private
trader he had heard of Captain Archer and was very eager to help,
convinced that the two men were on covert Starfleet business.

"So we don't know exactly what he's been told about you," Trip
muttered as he eased open the hatch of the borrowed shuttle.

"Just be glad we managed to find some transport," Archer passed his
bag to Trip.

"Those things about you he heard," Trip commented as he stepped into
the shuttle and looked around. "I'm not sure that they were good."

The shuttle was tiny. There was barely room inside for the two of
them and Trip grumbled as he took his seat in the pilot's chair.
"Andorians sure are little."

Archer grunted, Trip's humour wasn't fooling him, he could hear the
edge behind the words.

Once they were underway Archer decided to broach the subject of Malcolm.

"I don't deserve him," Trip stated bluntly.

"And that's why we're chasing after him?"

"You know why."

"Tell me anyway."

"Because Malcolm's not himself at the moment. I'm worried about him
Jon and I know you are too."

"If he wants to leave should we stop him? He's quite capable of
making his own decisions."

"Then why are you here?" Trip asked angrily. "I love Malcolm, he's
sick and I want to make sure he's okay."

"And yet you lied to him." Archer knew he was walking on a knife's
edge. Trip was infamous on Enterprise for his quick temper and Archer
knew he risked unleashing its full force on himself.

There was a flash of anger in Trip's blue eyes but without warning it
dissipated. "I didn't set out to deceive Malcolm," Trip murmured. "I
was writing to Todd before we got together, I couldn't just stop. I
really didn't think that Todd was a killer. I wouldn't knowingly put
Malcolm in danger, I'd die before I'd let anything happen to him."

Archer watched silently as Trip's cheeks flushed with colour and then
paled again.

"I'd kill for him."

"We'll find him Trip." Archer put a comforting hand on his friend's
arm. He had, he realised, been a little harsh. Trip certainly had not
knowingly endangered Malcolm. If he had there was certainly no way
Archer would have been here now. And in fact, as far as Archer could
tell, Trip had done everything in his power to hold their
relationship together, even when Malcolm kept pushing him away.

"The universe is an awfully big place," Trip commented glumly, "where
are we going to start?"

"Seti V. Malcolm bought a ticket there. I guess he's trying to put as
much space between himself and Enterprise as possible."

"Or from me." Trip said sadly. "Am I really such a horrible person?"

"It's not you," Archer relied. "I suspect more than anything
Malcolm's trying to run away from himself."

"He wouldn't tell me what had happened to him," Trip protested. "I
could have helped him."

"He hasn't talked to anyone," Archer frowned.

"I should have got him to talk to me. What sort of a relationship
must we have for Malcolm to feel he can't talk to me?"

"It's not your relationship that's the problem. I think Malcolm was
treated pretty badly by Todd."

"You think?"

Archer ignored the sarcasm. "Not being able to protect himself, it
must have been hard for him."

"Did anyone ever tell you how perceptive you are?"

"That's why I'm Captain." Archer smiled. "Things will get sorted out
Trip. I don't believe Malcolm's stopped loving you."

"I hope you're right."

"Trust me."
_________________________________________________________
Malcolm looked up at the sign for Callum's Bar and despite himself,
he smiled. It reminded him so vividly of Earth. His smile dropped at
that thought, he had no idea if he would ever return to Earth, or if
he did what he would do when he got there. It had been this bar that
Jak had directed him to but Malcolm wasn't sure that he wanted to go
in, he had left Enterprise in part to get away from people and
questions, if he went in he would have to talk to the barman, if no
one else and if he was honest with himself the thought terrified him.

Having made up his mind Malcolm turned away, determined to seek
anonymity in the crowd but then he spotted the same purple-eyed alien
who had accosted him on the transporter and in a panic Malcolm turned
and plunged through the doors into the bar.

Inside it was blessedly empty, there were two elderly aliens seated
in a booth playing a board game that to Malcolm's eyes looked very
much like chess. All the other chairs in the place were unoccupied
and the only other person was a man, who looked to be about Malcolm's
age, standing behind the bar, polishing a glass and obviously trying
to look busy.

But something made him hesitate just inside the doorway. He didn't
feel safe here and he jammed his hands into his pockets, afraid that
if he didn't people would be able to see that they were shaking.

"There's nothing to fear."

The voice made Malcolm jump.

"No one will hurt you I promise."

It was the barman talking and Malcolm realised that the voice was
oddly soothing. Slowly he moved forwards towards the bar.

"Whiskey?" The barman proffered a glass at Malcolm. "I've got three
different kinds."

Whiskey. Trip's favourite drink. Malcolm shook his head and the
barman narrowed his eyes.

"I've never known anyone to have such an emotional reaction to
whiskey before. How about something a little less emotive, cider?"

Confused Malcolm nodded and a cold glass was pressed into his hand.
He took a sip and almost sighed aloud as the liquid hit the back of his throat.

"You're human?"

"Half human." The barman grinned and held out his hand. "Callum."
When Malcolm ignored his hand Callum shrugged and pulled it back.
"Something frightened you pretty badly didn't it?"

"You can read my mind." Malcolm accused, as he placed the now
half-empty glass of cider down on the bar and seriously considered
leaving. He looked back over his shoulder at the door, checking for
danger. The only problem was, with no faith left in himself,
everything was a potential source of danger. Then he looked back at
Callum. There was nothing threatening in the pair of hazel eyes that
were studying him with interest and to his vast surprise Malcolm
realised that he didn't feel threatened by this man.

Objectively Malcolm assessed Callum, the man was only an inch taller
than himself and dressed casually in loose fitting trousers and an
untucked shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing powerful
looking forearms and wide hands tapering towards the long artistic
fingers that so expertly held cloth and glass. Callum's face was
round and good-natured with a wide mouth, an almost beak-like nose
and hazel eyes with just a hint of violet surrounding the pupil. His
hair was a dirty blonde, perhaps a shade darker than Trip's, but worn
longer and secured in a loose pony-tail. Malcolm could discern no
hint of a threat in his demeanour whatsoever. Maybe he could stay,
just for a little while.

"I take it I pass?" Callum smiled. "You're not a very trusting person are you?"

"I don't trust anyone." Malcolm replied, that hadn't always been true
of course but Trip was no longer a part of his life. "And you haven't
answered my question."

"I can't read minds only emotions and you my friend are a veritable
smorgasbord."

Malcolm couldn't think of anything to say to that and when Callum
reached out towards him he let the man take his hand. The touch made
him shiver but it was with pleasure not fear and something that
Malcolm had not experienced in a long time, desire. Almost shyly he
looked up and met Callum's gaze and the look in those hazel eyes made
him shiver as well.

With a faint smile Callum released Malcolm and turned his attention
to the bar's only patrons. "Closing time gentlemen," he announced in
a clear voice. "I'm afraid you'll have to finish your game later."
There was a general grumbling from the pair but they did not delay in
finishing their drinks and Callum followed them to the door. "Thank
you gentlemen, please do come again."

As Callum locked the door and pulled the shutter firmly downwards,
Malcolm felt a twinge of unease. Had he done the right thing in
staying? For a moment another memory of his time with Todd surfaced
but he managed to shove it down, even though the fear still lingered.

"I promised that no one would hurt you." Callum paused by Malcolm and
he reached out with one hand, as though he were going to caress
Malcolm's face but he stopped short. "You don't need to be frightened of me."

Malcolm wasn't sure what exactly it was that made him reach out and
take Callum's hand. The man was offering safety and sanctuary and
Malcolm was in desperate need of both. All thoughts of Trip were
ruthlessly banished and Malcolm stepped forward into Callum's embrace.

"Do you want this?" Callum whispered, his breath tickling Malcolm's
ear. "Are you ready to trust me?"

Malcolm nodded and Callum reached over to extinguish the lights. Then
he led Malcolm up a short flight of stairs and into a bedroom. He
started to shake as Callum drew him into the room and pushed the door
closed behind them.

"I won't hurt you," Callum murmured, hands quickly undoing the
buttons on Malcolm's shirt. "If you want me to stop just tell me, I'll stop."

"I want this." Malcolm forced out the words and once he had said
them, he knew. It was his first sexual encounter since that last
disastrous coming together with Trip and he gave himself up to it,
completely and utterly.

Callum's mouth and fingers seemed to know exactly what to do to
arouse Malcolm and he found himself desperately pressing himself
against the man, wanting to feel something other than fear and despair.

A warm wet mouth closed around his left nipple and Malcolm gasped,
the sensation of teeth lightly raked across delicate flesh brought
him very close to the brink and he gasped, hands moving upwards to
tangle themselves in Callum's hair. Then the mouth moved and closed
seductively around his already throbbing cock. Malcolm groaned again
and then he couldn't hold back any longer. He came, shuddering and
gasping; sweat breaking out on his skin, aware of nothing else but Callum.

"I take it it's been a while." Callum was smiling and Malcolm found
himself smiling back, his first real smile in far too long. For a
long moment Callum's hazel eyes stared into his as though considering
something. "There's a tube of lubricant close to your left hand."

"I thought you said you couldn't read minds?" But there was no heat
in Malcolm's words and he passed the tube over without further comment.

"I don't need to." There was a slick finger poised to enter him and
Malcolm breathed out slowly as Callum eased it in. "Oh yes."

Callum was breathing faster now as a second and then a third finger
followed the first. He thrust them deep into Malcolm and then pulled
away while he prepared to fuck Malcolm properly.

Both men groaned as Callum eased his way in and when the first thrust
hit his prostrate Malcolm could have sworn he was about to pass out.
He couldn't help himself; it had been so long since he had last felt
safe enough to let himself go so completely. This was part of the
healing process, the rational part of his mind, the part that wasn't
subsumed by passion, asserted, something Trip would have been unable
to do for him.

Callum thrusting inside him felt so right, a missing part that he
hadn't even known was missing and he let the sensation flood his
body, sweeping away all awareness of anything else.

Eventually Callum came with a yell and Malcolm wrapped his arms
around the man until Callum lay still on top of him.

"Thank you."

"You're more than welcome." Callum smiled and slide away from
Malcolm, searching for tissues to clean himself up with. He tossed a
handful towards Malcolm.

"Maybe you'll sleep better tonight."

Passion spent, Malcolm nodded his agreement, barely noticing Callum
covering him up or bending to kiss him before sleep rose up to claim him.


Part 6

Deep asleep Malcolm could feel the nightmare reaching out for him, a memory
no doubt of what Todd had done to him and a reminder that he could never be
free. Whimpering, he tossed aside the blanket that covered him, only to find
that it was replaced by a warm pair of arms that encircled him.

"I told you that I wouldn't let anything hurt you." The voice spoke gently,
whether or not it was part of the dream Malcolm didn'tknow but it soothed
him and effectively chased the nightmare away.

"Morning sleepy head." Callum, fully dressed was lounging by the bedroom
door, hazel eyes regarding Malcolm almost critically. "I've made breakfast.
Are you hungry?"

Malcolm nodded and not, he realised, out of politeness, for the first time
in ages he actually felt that he wanted to eat.

"The bathroom's through there." Callum indicated a door to his left. "Get
washed up, then we'll have breakfast."

Cleansed and refreshed Malcolm emerged to find that the clothes he had been
wearing were gone. The trousers and shirt waiting on the bed must be
Callum's and Malcolm pulled them on quickly, a little surprised by how
loosely they hung on his emaciated frame.

"I was going to make extra," Callum explained as Malcolm entered the bar.
"But from the look of you it's been a while since you last ate properly, so
I think it's best we start slowly."

He pushed a bowl of what looked like oatmeal across the table and Malcolm
fell on it.

"Not too fast," Callum scolded. "Your stomach needs to get used to food
again. If you eat too fast it won't stay down."

Obediently Malcolm slowed his rate of eating and Callum nodded approvingly.

He was scraping the bowl clean with his spoon when Callum spoke.

'do you love him?"

Malcolm looked up.

"The man you're running away from, do you love him?" Callum's hazel eyes
were full of curiosity, his gaze locked on Malcolm, even while he pushed a
cup of tea across the table.

"How do you know?"

Callum smiled sadly. "No one ends up here who isn't running away from
something. Yesterday I thought it was whatever had you so badly frightened
but it's not that at all."

"His name's Trip," it hurt to say those words and Malcolm knew that Callum
was picking up on his feelings when a look of pain passed across the man's
face. "And yes I do love him."

Long moments passed during which Malcolm and Callum contemplated each other.
Eventually Malcolm broke the silence.

"But I'm not the man he fell in love with and that's why I left."

Slowly and painfully Callum dragged the truth out of Malcolm. It was a
relief to tell someone, Malcolm realised, particularly when that someone
made no attempt to interrupt but let Malcolm talk, the words spilling out
of him. Once or twice someone would rattle the door of the bar before
stomping away but Callum ignored them and merely prompted Malcolm to
continue.

"You'll get your courage back." Callum said, once Malcolm had run out of
words. "It'll be there when you need it." He reached out and took Malcolm's
hand. "What you've been through, the things that you've suffered, no one
should have to experience any of that. But if Trip loves you half as much
as you love him he can help you." Callum paused and for a moment it looked
as though he might cry. "What happened wasn't his fault either and you know
that's true."

Malcolm looked up and nodded.

"Why did you fall in love with him?"

"He's courageous and loyal. Trip would face down a whole pride of lions to
save a friend."

"And yet it's his loyalty to his friends that made him stay in touch with
Todd." Malcolm winced and Callum squeezed his hand. "You need to forgive
him. I think that process has already begun but you need to go back to
him."

"Enterprise has long gone." Malcolm was surprised by how desolate that made
him feel but Callum smiled.

"I don't think Trip will have abandoned you that easily," Callum paused and
then added softly, "I know I wouldn't."

"You think I should go back?"

"I know you're going to." Callum smiled, a sad smile this time. "There's a
transport shuttle leaving tomorrow."

Malcolm nodded, he knew now that he desperately wanted to see Trip again and
put things right between them. "How can I thank you?"

"Give me one more day, or at least," Callum glanced up at the chronometer
above the bar, "what's left of it." He smiled ruefully; the pair had been
talking all morning.

"It's yours." Malcolm reached out across the table and didn'tobject when
Callum drew him to his feet and kissed him. The man pressed his tongue into
Malcolm's mouth, almost as though he were afraid that Malcolm might raise an
objection if he didn't.

"Callum?"

"Just a few more hours. Remember I won't hurt you."

Malcolm couldn't doubt the conviction in Callum's voice and so he let
himself be led back to the bedroom where the two men made short work of
removing the clothes they had only donned a few hours before. This time
Malcolm took charge, he could sense Callum's approval of this state of
affairs and he deliberately set his mind to giving the man as much pleasure
as he could.

"I want you inside me," Callum gasped as Malcolm finished his ministrations
and the man obediently reached out for the lubricant. As he breached
Callum's body he gasped aloud, the feeling so intense his mind could dwell
on nothing else. Callum was moving beneath him, muttering encouragement and
Malcolm was so totally swept up in the moment that it was almost a surprise
when he finally came to hear himself calling out Trip's name.


This transport was a lot more comfortable than the one he had arrived on and
Malcolm's state of mind was a lot more comfortable too. He still had his
doubts but Callum's words had given him hope that maybe he and Trip would
be able to find a solution together. He was still frightened, terrified in
fact but talking to Callum had been a cathartic experience and now he felt
ready to try and conquer at least some of his fears.

They'd been flying now for some three hours and Malcolm had just accepted a
cup of tea from a smartly dressed steward when the transport began to
shudder as though it were about to tear itself apart.

"Feels like someone's locked on a tractor beam."

Malcolm couldn'ttell where that comment had originated from but he heard it
clearly nevertheless and found himself shrinking down into his seat.

The transporter had stopped shuddering, the engines had stopped too and
Malcolm could hear harsh guttural voices coming from the captain's cabin.
The sound of blaster fire wasn'tfar behind and then a man holding an
arsenal of weapons appeared in front of the passengers.

"On your feet," he barked, "now get moving." He beckoned them forward and
numb with fear Malcolm found himself shuffling forward with all the rest.
As he passed the weapon-wielding goon he kept his eyes fixed to the floor,
praying that he wouldn'tbe recognised, for the man with all the guns had
been one of Todd's crew.


Archer and Trip had arrived at Seti V to find no sign of Malcolm. They had
searched for half a day before a chance meeting with an off-duty security
guard had elicited the information that Malcolm hadn'tmade it this far.

"One of the regular passengers was taking a bit too much of an interest in
him," the guard told them gruffly. 'so he got off at the next stop."

Archer, aware that Trip was quietly fuming next to him laid a warning hand
on the younger man's shoulder. "Can you tell us where?"

"Sure," the man pulled a small padd-like device out of his pocket, "I'll
show you."


The trip to the trading post where Malcolm had left the transporter seemed
infuriately slow and Trip spent most of it fuming that the shuttle's engine
was too small.

"Callum's Bar." Archer gestured to the neon sign and smiled at Trip. "This
is the place."

"Do you think he's still here?" Trip was wringing his hands together
anxiously.

"There's only one way to find out." Archer pushed the door open and ushered
Trip inside.

The bar was quiet, only a couple of the tables were occupied and there was
no sign of Malcolm. Trip could feel his heart sinking inside him but Archer
was marching him towards the bar.

The young man behind it looked up as they approached, his hazel eyes
sparkling inquisitively. "Three humans in as many days," he murmured
quietly, "this must be my lucky week."

"Three humans?" Trip stepped closer to the bar and unceremoniously shoved a
photograph towards the barman. "Have you seen this man?"

"My name's Callum by the way." He studied the picture of Malcolm and his
lips curled into a smile. "He was here two days ago."

Trip swore, loudly enough to attract the attention of the other patrons and
Callum grinning broadly, passed the man a glass of whiskey.

"You must be Trip."

"What have you done to Malcolm?"

"I put him on a transporter and convinced him that he shouldn't give up on
you so easily. You can say thank you later. Although I'm starting to think
maybe he would have been better off staying here with me." Callum raised an
eyebrow at Trip, who bridled but didn'tsay anything and then Callum turned
his welcoming smile on Archer. "I can offer you a bed for the night and you
can resume your search in the morning."

"No," Trip answered but Archer disagreed.

"You've barely slept since we left Enterprise, neither of us have. One night
won'tmake a lot of difference."

With a bad grace Trip acquiesced and Callum smiled broadly.

"I expect you'll be wanting supper," He said, not waiting for an answer
before bustling off to prepare a meal.


The evening was a bit of a blur, Trip had to admit to himself later, worry
for Malcolm was manifesting itself as aggression and with no obvious way of
venting it he drank a lot more heavily than he should have. He wasn'tsure
at what point of the evening he ended up drinking alone or at what point
Archer and Callum had started to make out.

Later he somehow managed to stumble up some stairs to a small room where
Callum had directed him to sleep. Lying on the bed thoughts of Malcolm were
disturbed by the sounds of the two men next door. He could hear Callum's low
soothing tones and Archer's smooth replies. Making out the words was
impossible but the tone was unmistakable. Eventually the voices were
replaced by the sound of rhythmic groaning and Trip, hating himself and
wishing desperately that he were with Malcolm, reached down and began to
masturbate.

In the room next door Callum, riding high on a wave of both Archer's and
Trip's emotions came so hard he surprised himself and Archer, thrusting
into him in truth wasn't far behind.


The passengers, now prisoners, had been herded onto a small cargo deck,
empty apart from the shivering mass of people that Malcolm was just one
small part of. The entirety of Todd's crew were here and Malcolm was
terrified lest they recognise him. Nobody was really sure what was
happening but Malcolm didn'teven try to take part in any of the whispered
conversations. The sight of Todd's crew had reminded him of everything that
he'd intended to leave behind him and Malcolm knew with certainty what would
happen if he were to be recognised.

However, Malcolm's mind, trained to think a certain way, despite his terror
at being recognised almost subconsciously had begun to catalogue what he
saw. There were seven crew, all of whom he recognised and all of whom were
constantly armed with at least three or four different weapons, they were
obviously fearful for their own safety although Malcolm wondered how they
could think their cowed and cowering captives were any sort of threat.

But there are more of us than them, a small insistent voice said. A million
times Malcolm rejected outright what that voice was saying to him. It's not
possible, he replied, even if I can think of a way to get them all here, how
can I be sure that the others won'tfreeze on me when the moment comes" None
of them want to be here, the voice told him, they'd follow if someone led
them and you know what you have to do.

Malcolm wrapped his arms around his head. Yes he knew but to face up to his
biggest fear like that, he couldn'tdo it. Whimpering Malcolm curled up,
trying to tuck himself under the bulkhead he was resting against. As he lay
in the semi-darkness he remembered what Callum had told him.

"You'll get your courage back. It'll be there when you need it."

Malcolm had believed Callum but it was easy when nothing was threatening
you. Now, huddled next to numerous aliens, all captive and scared it was a
different matter.

But you're not just doing this for yourself, the voice interjected. Malcolm
groaned and opened his eyes. Shaking, he climbed to his feet and began to
move among the other prisoners, talking quietly and laying out his plan and
tried hard to stop himself from crossing his fingers.


It was morning; three of the seven crew had arrived to distribute breakfast
to the prisoners. Two, moving through the crowd distributing the barest
minimum of food while their third comrade covered them. Malcolm as usual
kept his head down, but once the men had retreated away from the crowd he
stood up and begin to move forward, his legs shaking.

The goons eyed him with mild interest as he picked his way towards them, but
he couldn'tsee any recognition on their faces, for his plan to work they
had to recognise him.

"What do you want?" The taller of the three brandished his weapon in
Malcolm's direction and he was relieved to see how lightly they were armed.

"I want to talk to Todd." Despite all his efforts Malcolm's voice shook.

"Todd?" All three peered at him suspiciously. "How do you know about him?"

"You don'trecognise me?" Malcolm's voice sounded high and unnatural in his
ears. 'does the word Starfleet help?"

"Well I'll be.." One man reached forward and grabbed Malcolm by the arm.
"You've changed."

The other two were grinning at each other.

"Well boys, looks like we get to finish what we started."

Malcolm was pulled forward and then shoved roughly to the ground. "Get the
others," the taller man snapped, "they won'twant to miss this."

"What about the prisoners?"

The man's gaze swept dismissively across the huddled prisoners. "Keep an eye
on them but they're not going to be any trouble."

Long moments passed. Malcolm could tell that all seven crew were now
present, he just hoped they'd come without their weapons.

Greedy hands closed on his clothing and Malcolm steeled himself. If this
went wrong there would be nothing to prevent him from being brutally raped.

But at the last moment, just when he thought he'd failed, there was a
startled yell and Malcolm found himself suddenly surrounded by enraged
prisoners. He rolled himself into a ball as feet pounded all around him.
He'd been right, that triumphant thought filled his head, he'd faced his
fear and overcome it just as Callum had told him he would. Maybe now he was
ready to go back to Enterprise and Trip, to go home.


They had been back at the station for three days now with no sign of
Malcolm. Archer was afraid that perhaps despite what the man had told
Callum he had changed his mind about returning to Enterprise. But he didn't
dare voice this thought to Trip.

"Enterprise is here," Archer told Trip gently, "it's time to leave."

"No. We haven'tfound Malcolm yet." Trip retreated away from Archer, a
mutinous expression on his face.

"Trip.."

"Give me one more day," Trip begged. "If Malcolm doesn't show in the next
twenty-four hours I'll leave."

"Fine." Archer agreed to the compromise, grateful that Trip hadn'tmade more
of a fuss. "Good luck."


Alone on the station Trip decided to retrace his footsteps. They had
searched the place thoroughly but if Malcolm had only arrived recently that
could explain their lack of success.

Several hours later Trip still had found no sign of Malcolm and eventually,
deciding he needed a break Trip headed to the nearest bar. He'd been here
looking for Malcolm only half an hour ago and so didn'tbother looking
round, he simply headed straight for the bar to order a drink. Mug of
Andorian ale in his hand Trip turned. The bar was no fuller now than it had
been when he'd last been in here. The only difference was that a cloaked and
hooded figure was sitting at a side table, with what looked like a glass of
water in front of him.

Trip, trying to discreetly make out the man's features under the shadow of
the hood, wondered why anyone would need or want to wear such a get-up in a
station where the temperature rarely dropped below 86 degrees. Perhaps the
direct approach was called for.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Trip placed his mug deliberately down on the
stranger's table.

The stranger looked up at him and Trip could see the glitter of his eyes
deep within the hood.

"Thanks, a single malt whiskey."

Trip froze, the voice was hoarse and cracked as though speaking were an
effort but.. Hands trembling Trip pushed the enveloping hood away from the
man's face.

"Hello Trip." It was Malcolm, even more emaciated than he had been when he
had left Enterprise and with fresh bruises on his face, but it was Malcolm.

He was crying, Trip realised, fat tears were sliding down Malcolm's face and
in mirror image he could feel his own cheeks growing wet as well. The two
men stared at each other in silence; it seemed like years since they had
last seen each other and Trip felt a hundred conflicting emotions warring
in his chest.

Did he want to berate Malcolm for leaving without saying goodbye, question
him endlessly over where he'd been and what he'd done or simply just hold
him" He settled for the last, tugging Malcolm to his feet and wrapping his
arms around him.

"Enterprise is waiting." He told Malcolm once the two men finally
relinquished their hold on each other.

"Do you think they'll mind waiting a little bit longer?" Malcolm asked, a
suggestive look in his eyes.

Trip almost started crying again, despite his appearance, Malcolm, the old
Malcolm, was back.

"I'll find us somewhere more private." Trip promised.


The room that Trip had managed to find was somewhat squalid but in truth
neither man minded. They were both nervous, the last bitter words that they
had spoken to each other replayed in their heads.

It was Malcolm who closed the gap between them, reaching up to cup Trip's
face in his hands. Then he moved his hands downwards, nervously fumbling to
remove Trip's uniform. His own loose clothing was easier to remove but when
he saw Malcolm naked Trip had to be careful not to let any signs of horror
show on his face. The man was practically a walking skeleton and Trip
resolved to make fattening Malcolm up a priority. He should have known
Malcolm would be able to tell what he was thinking.

"I know I should eat something. Maybe when we get back to Enterprise we can
ask Chef to make us pan-fried catfish with pineapple ice-cream for
dessert."

Trip grinned. "I think that can be arranged."

Malcolm smiled back and stepped forward to kiss Trip. It was the sweetest
and most passionate kiss he had ever experienced and the two men quickly
staggered over to the bed.

"Malcolm.." Memories of their last sexual encounter made Trip hesitate.

"I love you." Malcolm put his whole heart into his words. "I want you."


It had been perfect, the perfect sex with the perfect man and if that
sounded like a cliche then so be it. Trip was lying awkwardly on his side,
the bed was really not big enough for two grown men but he had Malcolm in
his arms and so he was content.

There was a muffled sound from his discarded uniform and Trip rose to
silence it. Malcolm was still sleeping and he didn'twant him to be
disturbed.

"Tucker here."

"Trip?" It was Archer.

"I found him. I found Malcolm."

The very un-captainly-like whoop that issued from the communicator woke
Malcolm up.

"Trip?"

"C'mon Malcolm," Trip tossed him his clothes. "It's time to go home."

~the end~

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