Resemblance- Ch 2

Resemblance

By Evalyn A

Disclaimer: See Chap 1.
Rating: T/T, PG for language. Getting angsty here, can’t have too much sweetness and light around this relationship.
May be archived, just let me know.
Spoilers: "Similitude."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Chapter 2

He had followed her into her quarters without asking for permission. She seemed almost oblivious to his presence as she walked over to the viewport and stared out at the Expanse. He paused, uncertain for a moment, and then continued over to stand behind her left shoulder, where he could at least partly see her face.

She turned her head a fraction toward him for a moment, without looking in his direction. “I am suffering from an illness.”

This was completely out of left field and he shook his head, trying to make sense of it.

“It is a degenerative neural disease, potentially fatal,” she continued, still gazing at the slowly moving stars as if they held something of particular importance.

His stomach was now in his boots. “Potentially fatal?” he repeated, unable to formulate an intelligent sentence.

She cocked her head briefly in a manner that he knew from experience meant she was irritated, and this time looked directly at him. “I believe that is what I said.”

Now suddenly, senselessly angry, he snapped at her. “For god’s sake T’Pol, spit it out! The whole story!”

She nodded and said, in a tired voice, “Very well. You recall our encounter with the V'tosh ka'tur,” she started, “the Vulcans without logic.”

“Yeah,” he agreed dubiously, sinking to the edge of her bed, his legs not offering reliable support.
“And do you remember Tolaris?”

“You spent a fair bit of time with him studying the nebula,” Trip recalled.

“He had a personal interest in me. He attempted to convince me that I should consider following their ways, and embrace my emotions,” she revealed impassively. “I allowed him to experiment with an ancient mind technique. In doing so, I contracted from him a disease of the mind called Pa’nar syndrome. The pathology is complex, but it involves a degradation of a number of the normal neural pathways of the brain.”

He had the feeling that she was glossing over a considerable portion of the story, but he couldn’t focus on all the information at once. “You said potentially fatal. Are you getting treatment? That was two years ago! You haven’t been actin’ sick!”

“Dr. Phlox has been treating me. He has improved on some of the available treatments considerably over the last year,” she replied stoically.

She could be discussing some abstract case study rather than her own condition, Trip thought, frustrated by her attitude. “So, what’s the prognosis?” he asked baldly, cutting to the chase. If she could be coldly clinical, so could he.

“The progression of the disease has been slowed significantly,” she answered him. “But the events of the last few months have made it apparent that my mental control is greatly weakened.” She paused and turned back to look out the window.

“Go on,” he prompted, still irrationally angry with her. “Keep talkin’.”

“Suffice it to say that there are times when it takes every bit of my concentration to prevent myself from shouting in anger, or breaking something,” she continued, her calm tone in stark contrast to her words.

He looked at her, stunned into silence for a moment. “But,” he finally continued, “you’re not dyin’ any time soon? It’s under control?”

“More or less,” she agreed. “It is debilitating but none of the vital pathways have showed any further degradation since Dr. Phlox refined his treatments.”

“Okay,” he said, almost to himself. “Okay then. Give me a bit to absorb this, T’Pol.” After a moment of consideration, he realized that so far she had not explained how this revelation related to the events of the previous weeks. “We’re comin’ back to this, but,” he urged her, “what about Sim?”

She winced slightly. “My loss of control affected my relationship with him.”

“Affected how?” he prompted, after a long pause.

She looked directly at him again, and he could see her struggling with whether to tell him. “He told me that he had deep feelings for me. I found myself reciprocating them.”

He felt panic overwhelm him. He had my memories. Oh shit. She reciprocated them? His anxiety was evident as he spoke. “What do ya mean reciprocated?”

“I discovered that I had feelings for him also.” She paused. “He also told me he was not sure if those feelings were his, or yours. I found myself similarly unsure if my feelings were for him … or you.”

Something tightened in his chest till he feared he would be unable to breathe. “And what did you decide?”

“It was an academic question,” she replied, her voice catching slightly. “He was you. In the end I found myself unable to tell the difference.”

Now it was Tucker who could not look at her. He stared at his hands between his knees. She watched him but said nothing. Finally he looked up. “T’Pol, they were my feelings. But I wasn’t going to tell you. You and me, it’s just not possible. You’re Vulcan, I’m human, we’re both officers that shouldn’t be fraternizin’, we’ve got a life or death mission, and …” he paused for a moment. “And I don’t think it’d make the Captain real happy.”

And that is the real reason, she thought to herself. She stifled a sigh and turned back to the window. “I believe you are correct, Commander. It is better that way.” After another long pause in which neither of them could find words, she continued, “It is late. You should return to your quarters and get some rest.”

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but found himself still with nothing to say. He stood, but paused at the door and turned back to look at her. “Still friends, T’Pol?”

She returned his gaze solemnly. “Still friends, Commander Tucker.”

He smiled a bit unsteadily, and said gently, “Trip. My friends call me Trip.”

“Trip …” she murmured, as the door closed behind him.

Continue to Chapter 3

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Four of you have made comments

Oooh, sucker punched. Poor Trip and poor T'Pol. I don't want them to have to contain their feelings behind iron walls of duty but to find a way to be together - properly. I know, every now and then the shipper in me comes out and I can't do a damn thing about it! (Not that I try very hard). Very well written, I am hoping there will be more! Ali D :~)

You don´t want to stop there. No, no,no. You won´t. Please: continue with this story!

WHAT??? Is that ALL??? PLEASE don't just leave us with that! AAUGH!

Nooooo. That can't be the ending! It's so awful! Not awfully written, I mean, for it's *very* well-written indeed, but awful for Trip and T'Pol! Please, please write more.