Authors notes:
Darn plot bunny bit me one day while listening to Def Leppard's "Long Long Way to Go" off their album "X". Hate evil plot bunnies that ruin perfectly good songs.
Summary:
"I've got a long, long way to go, before I can say goodbye to you." ("Long Long Way to Go", Def Leppard, "X" 2002)
Warning:
This story deals with the death of a major character on the show. No, it's not a dream, the character is dead.
The door to the quarters slid open with no warning, but the man on the floor wasn't startled. He didn't even look up as his friend entered, the door closing behind him.
"Thought I'd find you here. Hey, Porthos," Charles 'Trip' Tucker added as the dog came up to greet him, then looked beyond Trip for someone else. Someone who wasn't coming.
"I thought someone needed to check on Porthos. He probably doesn't understand what's going on." Malcolm Reed still didn't look up at Trip, his red-rimmed gray eyes fastened on the deck plating.
Trip nodded. "I know. I thought about taking him to my quarters at first, but . . . this is where he's used to being." And he's not the only one, Trip thought to himself. Reed had been maintaining his reserve in public since it happened, but in private, especially here, he let himself grieve for his beloved.
It had been a week since Jonathan Archer had been killed on a diplomatic away mission gone horribly wrong. His death hit the entire crew hard, as expected. He had been their leader, the man they all looked to in times of crisis. Now, they were emotionally adrift in space. Starfleet hadn't made up their minds about a new captain, so Enterprise was in orbit around a dead moon. Per his wishes, the captain's body had been launched into space to remain in the stars. Trip had been the only one who noticed how badly Malcolm's hand had shaken before he'd pressed the firing button.
Looking at Malcolm now, Trip worried even more. Captain Archer's death had hit Malcolm and himself harder than most of the crew. Trip because he'd been the captain's friend for over a decade. Malcolm because he'd been the man's lover for over a year. While Trip still found himself reaching for the com to ask his friend a question, he couldn't imagine what it would be like to reach for a lover in the middle of the night only to realize they were gone, with no chance of them coming back, ever.
"Maybe you should take Porthos to your quarters," Trip suggested gently. "He would probably be more comfortable with someone he's used to having around."
"This is his home, Trip." 'and mine' was the unspoken addition. Malcolm's quarters had been rarely used in the past few months.
Trip sighed. "I know, Malcolm. But. . . I heard from Starfleet today."
"They've assigned a new captain."
"Yes."
"He'll want these quarters."
"Well, he'd rather leave them to Porthos, but Command is insisting he take them."
Reed finally looked up to see the fourth pip on Trip's uniform - a new uniform with gold piping. "Well, congratulations, Captain Tucker."
Trip held up a hand at the sarcasm that dripped from Reed's voice. "I didn't want this, Malcolm. But Starfleet doesn't want to send out a new Captain, nor do they want to bring us home just yet. An' they're not about to put T'Pol in charge - she's not Starfleet."
"Always the bridesmaid and never the bride, our good Subcommander."
Trip sighed. "I really didn't want this Malcolm. John was born to command people, to do what he did. I'm much more at home in the engine room, and I told Starfleet that. They still kicked me into that chair. And I would rather turn these quarters over to you and Porthos."
Reed shook his head. "I don't think I could stay here, Trip. Too many memories." He looked down at Porthos, rubbing behind the dog's ears. "Too many memories," he whispered again.
Tucker reached out to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, Malcolm. I know. I have the same problem. But we've got to go on. He'd want that." He winced at the platitudes, but he was unable to think of anything else.
"Don't you think I know that, Trip? It's about the only bloody thing that gets me through my duty shift anymore."
Trip nodded. "You could ask for a transfer."
Malcolm gave humorless snort. "Right. Captain gets killed and armory officer transfers. Looks like I don't have a lot of faith in our new captain, does it? No one else knew about us, Trip. At least, not in Starfleet Command. What would they think?"
"Who cares what they think? What do you want to do?"
"Right now? Go to sleep and wake up with this all being some terrible bad dream brought on by resequenced meatloaf."
"I think the whole crew is with you on that one, Malcolm."
"Other than that, I don't know what I want to do."
Trip sighed. "I know a promotion is a poor substitute for Johnny, but hey, the work would help keep you on duty."
"Promotion. Like that's supposed to help?"
"Like I said, Commander Reed, it's not anything to warm your bed at night."
"You promoted me," Malcolm accused.
"No, Admiral Forrest did. I just encouraged him. I need a second in command I can trust." Trip sighed. "Malcolm, I miss him too. I'd give up the warp engine to have him back, but it's not going to happen."
"I know, Trip. But it's not easy."
"Never is."
Malcolm sighed, leaning back against the bunk. "I guess I ought to take my things from here."
"Take anything you want. Well, I have a few things I would like, if you don't mind. And there's something I think he'd want Hoshi to have."
Malcolm nodded. "Do you mind if I take in Porthos?"
Trip shook his head. "I think both of them would prefer it."
Malcolm nodded and stood up. "I'll just get his things, then."
Before Malcolm left the room, Trip held up a hand. "Wait a second, Malcolm." He pinned something to the other man's uniform. Malcolm looked down to see the third pip added to his uniform. "Starfleet will make use do the full promotion ceremony later, but for now we're keeping this low key."
Malcolm nodded. "See you on the bridge, Captain."
"Likewise, Commander."
As Malcolm left his lover's quarters, he felt his grief lift a little. Talking with Trip and taking the first steps to getting on with life helped. He knew he still had a long, long way to go before he would stop missing the man he loved. If ever.
But maybe, now, it just wouldn't hurt as much.
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