Only For You

Only For You

By Gammaent

(email: gammaent@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all things Star Trek…and we saw what they did with it…
Genre: Friendship
Summary: Takes place after Soval and T’Pol’s meeting in “The Expanse”. Missing scenes and an alternate way things might have gone…

A/N: First fic, feedback please! I’ve got some other ideas, but they’re based off this story, so feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Starfleet HQ, San Francisco
April 27, 2153

A salty breeze drifted past the lone figure standing at the entrance of Fleet Operations. The soft moonlight melted across the scene only to disappear into the stark yellow spreading from the artificial lighting, creating an odd contrast between the light’s supple peace and the flurry of activity within the building.

As busy as Starfleet was, there was another flurry of activity. A war was being waged, a war between logic and emotion, a war all Vulcans had fought for over two thousand years, but to the onlooker, only a silent rustling of leaves could be heard.

Why had she said those infamous words, words which she had just a year ago denied, claimed they went against not just Vulcan beliefs, but tradition, heritage and duty?

“I believe that choice should be mine”

The words still echoed through the air, haunting her as they returned to her with each passing breeze, reminding her of what she had just said to the Ambassador.

The Ambassador. He had informed her of the Vulcan High Command’s decision, but yet he had not forced it upon her. In his own way, he had given her a choice: if she chose to remain on Enterprise she would have to resign her commission. The fact that he had even spoken of the consequences said volumes for a Vulcan. Silently, he was almost giving support if T’Pol were to choose such a course of action.

But what to do?

Captain Vanik, over a year ago, had told her to leave the humans. But that was over a year ago. So much had changed, so much had been done, so much had been said.

If she remained, where were her loyalties? Deep inside her mind she knew- her loyalties were with Enterprise. The short conversation with the Doctor had changed so much, made her recognize so much. She also realized how many of her decisions were influenced by her subconscious. But why was her loyalty so tied to the human ship?

As she fixed her eyes upon the ground, they did something very human, they darted, searching for an answer as if it were written upon ground. Her eyes stilled for a moment and her whole frame froze as a memory played back, almost as if she were back again on the Enterprise only weeks after first joining…

It was the day she realized so much about her human crewmates, and humanity in general. The Captain had been so, to put it mildly, ecstatic over a simple comet. Had she been serving on a Vulcan vessel, the comet would have simply been catalogued and then ignored, but her human crewmates decided to investigate. And investigate they did, sending down Reed and Mayweather to collect core samples when they found the presence of a rare element which even the Vulcan Science Directorate had expressed an interest in. Their exploration, however, had been interrupted by the visit of the Ti’Mur and by Captain Vanik. Though she had found it odd, she had not voiced that opinion to the Captain, but regardless, he had deduced as much from her earlier comments of ‘Vulcans and their lack of curiosity in comets.’ But, motivation aside, the Captain had attempted to be gracious and invited Captain Vanik aboard for a dinner, a dinner that would show her so much.

The Captain had asked Chef to prepare a traditional Vulcan meal, and surprisingly, one usually not appreciated by human tastes. Yet, despite such, Commander Tucker and the Captain had eaten the meal and attempted to engage the Vulcan in conversation. When either the Captain or the Commander attempted to comment about their interest in Vulcan things, whether it be engineering to personal experiences, Vanik had shot them down with iciness evident even to a Vulcan. He was dismissive and patronizing of the humans, adding a final insult by talking about humans as primates to be admired in a zoo, with his comment of how little interest they held for him. T’Pol herself couldn’t help but feel a bit defensive for her human crewmates, who, despite their inexperience, had proven in their few short weeks that they were able to deal with the challenges of deep space travel, and that the Vulcan opinion of humanity, perhaps, was just that, an opinion…

But it was not those events that had changed her so drastically. It was those events with a one Commander Charles Tucker the Third. How he had, without any need to, admitted his transgression of her privacy. How this explosive, unrestrained human had muted himself, scrunched his forehead and with such a pure sincerity that the Vulcan herself couldn’t deny, apologized. How his eyes had pleaded for her to understand that he had not meant to commit such a transgression, how he didn’t distrust her only because she was a Vulcan, how he felt that he had wronged her in a way that was above either being simply Human or simply Vulcan. He had viewed her as a person first and treated her as a person first. He had overcome his preconceptions and stuck to his honor and his compassion, the side that made him so distinctly “Trip” Tucker.

And even more than that, he had baffled her. She had decided that he was, impossibly, the embodiment of every distasteful human trait. She initially thought of him as illogical at the least, but also arrogant, insensitive, immature, impulsive, rash, and perhaps even of questionable honor. After all, how does a male become pregnant only two weeks into a mission?

Had he been Vulcan, an apology would have been unnecessary. It would have been illogical. But even the Vulcan couldn’t help but acknowledge that what he had done was right. And they were both the better for it, though at the time she had responded with nothing but sarcasm.

Even the night before he had invited her to eat with him when he had been so obviously tired. He had been what Ensign Sato deemed “a gentleman,” not because she was a Vulcan or second-in-command, but because she was a fellow crewmate. Upon joining him he had engaged her in conversation, attempting to, now that she realized it, treat her in a manner to indicate that he fully accepted her, accepted who she was and not to view her simply as the Vulcan officer. He had even recognized the subtle changes in her posture, her breathing, the far away look in her eyes, asking her if everything was all right-- all out of concern. It had disturbed her at the time that her control had slipped for such a short time that even a human had noticed, but later she would realize that only Commander Tucker would have recognized such a subtle slip, because, as she soon began to understand, he was attempting to befriend her, attempting to make her feel apart of the larger crew of Enterprise.

And then there was the discussion in her quarters, how the Commander had attempted to, despite the difficulty, offer his opinion regarding her situation. How he had said words that were so simple, yet so difficult to fulfill in real life. Do what you want to, he had told her, telling her about her free will, her choice. He had believed that he had been imparting an alien, a human value upon her when in reality he had not. She had just wished not to recognize it at the time. Even she had admitted that Vulcans could develop affection for one another and that was expected of her and Koss over time. Upon further contemplation, regarding Captain Vanik and the events folding around her, she had made her decision. It was her choice and she had much to learn from her human crewmates…

And now she was standing, on a clear night, the stars silently blinking at her, fighting the war of logic. Her human crewmates weren’t immature or primitive as many Vulcans believed. Over the course of two years, her human crewmates had established better relations with several alien species than Vulcans had in centuries. And the prime difference: human compassion and understanding. They weren’t the arrogant and inexperienced species that Captain Vanik had declared to Captain Archer, they were a people who were curious and accepted their emotions, but when the need arose, were able to act with logic. Wasn’t it Captain Archer who had wanted to learn more about Vulcan culture and detoured to visit P’Jem, only to discover that it was the Vulcans who were violating an interplanetary treaty? Many Vulcans, when residing on Earth, refused to leave the compound and explore Earth culture, and here, Earth’s first starship had, in its first weeks, already made an attempt to explore its ally’s culture. Hadn’t the humans risked their lives for Ambassador V’Lar, and using human ingenuity, saved her life? Hadn’t the humans faced the criticism of the Vulcans, and even fought against the termination of their program, a program that had in some areas accomplished more in two years than what the Vulcans had accomplished in two thousand?

The humans had continuously shared their scientific discoveries, their reports, their databases. They had even given Vulcans their transporter technology, a concept that the Vulcan Science Directorate had deemed impossible. And now, when Earth had suffered a devastating attack, what was its, as Earth deemed, “friend and most important ally” doing? Nothing. Because it wasn’t logical.

Had anyone been around, they would have seen the Vulcan exhale sharply in a Vulcan equivalent of a snort. And at that T’Pol blinked, breaking her frozen contemplation.

She knew Tolaris’s attack and the subsequent Pa’naar Syndrome had weakened her control, but had she just expressed disbelief at logic?

“Perhaps yer pickin’ up some of our bad habits”

The words Commander Tucker had shot at her now were ones she could not deny. She herself knew that her subconscious influenced her decisions, decisions regarding her marriage to Koss, to exploring her emotions, even to defending Enterprise and its mission.

But to quit the High Command? Could she really execute such an affront to Vulcan culture, her Vulcan heritage? As T’Pol continued thinking, she realized that perhaps it was time to once again follow the Doctor’s advice, perhaps she should talk about it with someone else, obtain a second opinion, but who?

Her closest ‘friends’ were all on Enterprise. She had noticed how Ensign Mayweather would always offer her a greeting, a custom he practiced only for her. She realized how it was his way of accepting her, of respecting her. Lieutenant Reed; she had admired his control and objectivity, his dedication to duty. He always asked her opinion on procedure and protocol, recognizing her expertise and experience. Captain Archer was one of the three humans with which she truly felt at ease. She admired his compassion, his flexibility, and his ingenuity. She recognized his attempts at friendship, but there was something that disturbed her. She had early on realized that he had a romantic interest in her, an interest he was not at all well at hiding. Though she appreciated his attempts at friendship, that awareness in their dynamic had always kept T’Pol reserved around him, always on the defensive. Ensign Sato, an interaction that had started off with mistrust had developed into one of deep respect and understanding, was one that she found unusually fulfilling. Ensign Sato would often invite the Vulcan to her table when she was enjoying tea late at night, during which time both would discuss various topics, most importantly for T’Pol, her fellow human crewmates. But it was a close relationship of colleagues, not one of a personal nature. Even so, there was still one person, one human whom she trusted above all others…

Commander Tucker

How that was even possible, she did not know. He had exasperated her, challenged her, and argued with her at every step. He even managed to annoy her, though she would never admit it. Yet there was something wholly innocent about him, wholly unique. He had viewed her as a person, befriended her as a person. He had tried to include her in movie night, attempted to share his desserts, his interests, and all the things he enjoyed with her. While the Captain had been motivated by his underlying attraction, the Commander had acted only out of compassion, out of a friendship that had been festering between the two. He continued to argue and provoke her which she soon came to realize was his way of demonstrating affection and friendship. He had been the one, who, without being told, had been gentler with her, concerned for her after Tolaris’s attack, realizing that something was wrong. He was the one who—unasked-- would answer her questions regarding human behavior, human sayings, and the crew in general. He was the one who would explain movies to her. And, ever since she had acquiesced to watch Frankenstein, no matter what she would say or do, he would always invite her to the next movie night,. He had even recommended and given her novels after she expressed her interesting in literature.

Standing in front of Fleet Operations, she realized she had been staring at nothing in particular. Suddenly she was jolted back into reality as another salt scented breeze bit into her, causing her to look at her surroundings, when she saw her reflection in the glass pyramidal sculpture in front of her.

It disturbed her that her reflection seemed so stoic, so Vulcan, only because even recently the Commander had seen right through that expression so often. How she had let him see past the demeanor she cast for everyone else. And why? Because he was her only true friend, she decided, her best friend. Her t’hai’la.

Had she just thought that? Of course she respected him, trusted him, even took a small amount of very unVulcan pleasure in arguing with him, but t’hai’la had more connotations than just the simple word ‘friend’ had in English.

Disturbed by the direction her thoughts were going, she looked up to the stars and saw Earth’s natural satellite, marred with craters and other phenomenon. And now Earth itself had a crater, thousands of kilometers long from an attack resulting in seven million deaths, an attack that had led her to this point, to a point where she would be forced to make a decision regarding her future.

Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders she assembled her resolve. With a final look at her surroundings, she turned and headed back into the lobby of Fleet Operations, with the single intent of contacting her truest friend to help her in her time of crises, a time when it seemed her logic would simply not provide an answer…

Back inside the building, she took comfort in the soft yellow lighting, the warm heat that engulfed the room. Formulating her plan, she pulled out her communicator and flipped it open.

“T’Pol to Enterprise”

After a moment of silence, a familiar voice came to life over the comm link.

“Reed here, what can I do for you Sub-commander?”

“I needed to speak to Commander Tucker regarding an important matter.”

There was a few seconds of silence, a few seconds of hesitation that seemed odd to T’Pol, but before she could consider the reasons, the comm sprung to life.

“The Commander took an early leave around 14:00. He received a communiqué and, with the Captain’s permission, took a shuttlepod down to the Starfleet Camp set up in Florida investigating the attack. Would you like me to forward a message Sub-commander?”

“No Lieutenant, that will not be necessary. T’Pol out.”

Only one more person left to contact, T’Pol quickly comm'ed the Captain

“Archer here. T’Pol, everything all right with Soval?”

“Yes Captain, did you send Commander Tucker to Florida for the investigation?”

“About seven hours ago, we needed a few scans regarding the quantum residue from the weapon, it shouldn’t have taken him more than an hour though. He should be back at Enterprise by now. Anything wrong that I should be made aware of Sub-Commander?”

“I do not believe so, thank you. T’Pol out.”

Slipping the communicator back into her belt, she felt as she did if there was a piece of a puzzle missing, a situation which she was familiar with, but had only faced in the context of a scientific puzzle or when she had worked for the Ministry of Security. Logically, the Commander had been assigned a task in the investigation and had headed to Florida to fulfill his duty. Soval had hinted that she did not have much time since Enterprise would be shipping out soon. She glanced at the chronometer and saw that it was nearly 21:00. She knew that the investigation in Florida was being run constantly and by San Francisco time, but even then it was getting late. But Commander Tucker never retired before 23:00. If she could acquire a shuttle, she could be at the investigation camp by 22:00.

How to get a shuttle though? Then she remembered; with the constant need to transport Starfleet personnel between Headquarters and the temporary camp in Florida, a constant shuttle operation had been established leaving at every hour. As the chief Science officer and second-in-command of Earth’s only deep space vessel, she was certain she could acquire a spot on the 21:00 flight.

With her plan and resolve set, she turned and left Fleet Operations heading for the shuttle hangers. As she retreated from Fleet Operations, her demeanor was every inch Vulcan, but her thoughts were far from so, confused and chaotic all because she had, for a lack of better saying, chosen to question logic.

Temporary Memorial, Florida
April 27, 2153

It had to have been hours, Trip thought staring into the flickering flame of the candle he was cradling reverently in his hands, unable to take comfort from its sweet warmth. The day flashed before him in a surreal playback, eating away at his soul, memory after memory.

It had been around 1330 hours when Hoshi had comm’ed him in his quarters, informing him that he had a message from his parents. For the first time in days, there was a moment of happiness for Trip, pure, untainted happiness. Trip had been trying to contact his parents and older brother and sister ever since the attack, but he had yet to receive a reply. It hadn’t bothered him, since he knew what they must be going through, he had expected to meet them at Lizzie’s memorial and share his grief with them then. He had even snapped at Malcolm earlier when he had mentioned a memorial, but later had explained to him that he was just frustrated for not hearing from anyone. But it wasn’t just frustration. There had been this painful ache in his chest that just wouldn’t go away. Yet he had yet to shed a tear, somehow convincing himself that it just wasn’t true. But it was just denial. He knew that nothing could ever help, but his parents, Daniel, and Janet had always been constants of comfort in his life, sources of security, of love and warmth. It was all he had to look forward to…and finally…a letter.

As Hoshi continued, she informed him that Captain Archer needed to have him run a few scans at the Florida attack, and that he had approved the use of a shuttlepod for him. As she signed off, he quickly grabbed a candle he had acquired for Lizzie’s memorial, he knew that was the reason his parents had contacted him, he just knew. He would light it and keep it lit no matter what. He would not fail again, never again. He quickly downloaded the message onto a padd and headed for the shuttlebay, taking only the padd, the candle, and the bag of equipment he needed to fulfill his mission.

Over an hour later, Trip had finished the scans and had been sitting at the investigation camp mess hall, mulling over a cup of coffee. His eyes kept going over his parent’s letter, not taking in any of the words yet knowing every one of them. They didn’t mean it, did they? No, they couldn’t have. Nothing would stop him from being at Lizzie’s memorial, nothing.

Set in his resolve, he took the shuttle and within 20 minutes found himself walking to the entrance of Cochrane Park outside of New Orleans. He understood why they had chosen this park, it had been Lizzie’s design. With a pang he remembered how she had talked about the design for hours, how the idea for its layout had come from the schematic of the Phoenix which hung in Trip’s room. It had been her favorite project, and with no body for a funeral, it was the most appropriate place to remember her. Even from this distance he could see the small gathering of Lizzie’s friends and his family by a small memorial.

It was nearly 18:00 local time, the sun had begun to set and the entire seen was bathed in a surreal orange, with the figures surrounding a glowing collection of candles, flowers and messages. Clutching his own more fiercely, Trip hastened forward, his demeanor firm but his eyes desperate, somehow pleading that this memorial would let him be with Lizzie one last time, one last time when he could say goodbye.

As if sensing his presence, two of the figures separated from the small vigil and made their way towards him. As they got closer, a small smile played across his face, a gesture that almost hurt, seeming so unfamiliar to him…

Within hearing range, he offered his greeting, “Mom, Dad…”

Taking one large step forward, he hugged his Mom, a silent tear running down his face. His arms engulfed her frame, his head coming upon her shoulder and, out of pure instinct, nuzzling as if to take some measure of comfort and protection. As he continued to keep his arms wrapped around her, he noticed that her hands had come to rest on his shoulders, but it wasn’t the embrace he remembered. She was tense, unmoving, hesitant, so different from his memories. But it was more then that, it wasn’t the warm embrace that he remembered. It was cold, too cold.

Releasing his grip, he pulled back, a puzzled look on his face, his eyes full of confusion, “Mom?”

“Didn’t you get our message,” she said, in a voice hoarse from grief and in a whisper that he had to strain to hear. She wasn’t even looking him in the eye, and instead, turned her back and was gazing upon the glow from the candles at the memorial.

“Ya didn’t mean it, did you? I won’t say anything, I just wanted ta say goodbye to Lizzie…”

“And you did,” his dad cut in, his voice clipped and calculated, traced with a touch of ice which took the breath out of Trip. “Just leave, go back to your ship and just leave…”

“But Mom….Dad…,” Trip began, but to no avail. Even before the words were out, his parents had turned and left him standing, his words lost in the breeze. It felt that something in him had died, withered away and died. Trip didn’t remember how long he stood there, and without any indication, turned and headed towards the shuttlepod.

It was how he found himself here, sitting on a bench in front of the temporary memorial not too far way from the investigation camp. He knew it was late, nearly 01:00 by local time and the memorial was empty save for him.

Nobody had asked him if he had needed time off, he had denied it even to Malcolm. But to not be able to go to her memorial? He had taken off the rest of today and tomorrow morning saying he had personal business. Nobody had questioned him. But now, he sat alone on the bench in his uniform, holding the candle he had lit after having arrived at the memorial.

His uniform. He had been so proud the first time he had worn it, first time he had entered Enterprise’s engine room. But now, it stuck to him, like dirt that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you rubbed or cleaned. But that was just denial. He wasn’t angry at his uniform, it was just a scapegoat. No, he was angry with himself.

I’m so sorry Elizabeth….

It was the lone thought that echoed in his mind. He looked up and surveyed the destruction and fresh tears trickled down his cheeks. After returning, he had cried for the first time, and he was glad he was alone. Unable to be seen, he thought, as nothing but a failure, a weak excuse, a disgrace. The night sky was so peaceful, so deceptive, that Trip couldn’t but help but hate the irony.

I always promised ta take care of ya Elizabeth, always. And now Mom and Dad say that I was the one that killed ya…you gotta believe me that’s not true Lizzie, I love ya more than my own life…

Trip’s parents were accusing him of killing Elizabeth. Oh, he might not have pulled the trigger, but to them, it was one and the same. It seemed as if Trip had not only lost his baby sister, but his family as well. The family he loved and cared about so much it hurt. To lose them like this was unbearable.

He looked down upon the candle once again, noticing its flame getting weaker. Instinctively he protected it with his body, allowing it to grow stronger, protected from the wind by nothing more than his frame.

I won’t fail ever again Lizzie, you have mah word. I may not be able ta attend yer memorial, but I’ll sure as hell have mah own. I’ll never let this flame go out, never…

I’m so sorry I never gotta say goodbye to ya Lizzie. All those times ya wanted to go to the movies with me, but I would fight with ya? What I wouldn’t give for another fight like that…what I wouldn’t give…

Had anyone been around to watch, the pain etched in Trip’s face would have been unbearable. But his eyes….they were so different. They were set, with a raw determination.

Never again will I let anyone hurt the ones I love, never again….

And with that Trip returned his gaze to the expansive destruction as the flame cast an eerie glow across his features, revealing nothing but an aching hollowness.

As T’Pol neared the memorial, she saw Trip sitting on the bench, alone, and forlorn. Something inside her fluttered, and she stood still for a moment to collect her resolve.

She had arrived a few minutes before at the investigation camp and asked for Commander Tucker. No one seemed to know where he was, but someone had noticed him walking towards the temporary memorial.

Of course, it is the only logical conclusion. Trip would visit the memorial at the first opportunity…

T’Pol was unsettled that, even if it were in her thoughts alone, she had not only called him “Trip,” but accepted his emotions, even indulged in them.

As he has done so many times with my logic…

She pulled her jacket in closer as the chilly wind cut through her uniform. Though it was not unbearably cold for a human, T’Pol was used to the Vulcan climate and found the weather exceptionally chilly. Once again she looked at the man sitting at the bench, and her thoughts began to drift.

This is not the man I know as Commander Tucker…he is different.

Her inner self began to war within…and she feared the outcome.

That is illogical, he is the same man, he is even in his same uniform. What in the name of Surak do you mean he is a different man?

Same man, you call the man sitting on the bench the same one who has managed to break down your barriers, managed to comfort you when such a thing should be impossible? Why do you not use logic to determine why you would think that he is different? You are a scientist T’Pol! Observe and deduce. You have done so for your entire life…

And in silence, both selves agreed. She fixed her gaze upon the Commander once again, focusing on his form.

It was deathly still. There was no movement, no life. His entire body was slouched over a candle that he was cradling protectively in his hands. His eyes were unfocused, the flame catching of the streaks of tears that had dried on his cheeks. Even as she watched she saw another tear begin its journey as some many had that night, only to disappear into his uniform. And the uniform. It seemed that the man always present in that uniform was absent…gone. The Commander Tucker she knew was a constant dichotomy of motion and balance, always talking, alive with expression and life. It had amazed her how he could continually manage to do something, even when all he was supposed to be doing was sitting. But never this, never this man who radiated so much pain, so much grief that even a Vulcan could not help but feel. And therein was the irony. His face was relaxed, expressionless, and blank. She realized that in the few days at headquarters she had not seen him, she had missed his presence, both his attempts to provoke her and his unsettling thoughtfulness. She continued her silent observation as her mind arrived at the logical conclusion…

He is hardly the same man you met two years ago…

Even as her thought was reaching its completion, another gust of wind rolled over the destruction, causing Trip to shiver. At that she realized that he had most likely been sitting here for hours. It perplexed her that he was not with his family, over the time she had known him, she knew how much he cared for his family. Even on Vulcan families grieved together, she was surprised that he was here alone, uncared for, discarded.

But she didn’t know what to do! How do you offer a human comfort?

Why would you want to offer a human comfort, T’Pol, or are you becoming so emotional to indulge in such pitiful flights of fancy? He is only a colleague, treat him as such.

No, she thought to herself. No. He is not just my colleague. He is my friend, my best friend. She had, after all, only one act of compassion to draw experience from. After Tolaris had attacked her, Commander Tucker had silently supported her, offered his kindness and assistance without being asked, but most important, without asking what was wrong. She had never thanked him for it, accepting it for what it was. Now she realized how difficult such a simple act could be.

Walking up to him, she took off her jacket and draped it over his shoulders. Carefully she laid her right hand upon his shoulder, causing him to turn his head and his eyes to lock with hers.

His eyes, they are what he calls “a window to the soul.” Where are you Trip? Where is the person I know within those eyes, because I only see emptiness…hollow emptiness. Where are you…

Even as these words entered her thoughts, she could see the barest signs of the person she knew shining back at her. Even so, his eyes red and glazed, trying to hold back the fresh round of tears which threatened to break his control, failing as a single tear ran down his already tear-streaked face.

At that moment she knew her decision. Her loyalties did not lay with Vulcan, they did not lay with Earth. They did not even lay with Enterprise. They lay with her friends, and foremost among them, her best friend. And by that very nature, her loyalties were to herself, to be true to herself. With a mental gulp, she decided to be someone who she could be proud of.

She continued to rest her hand on his shoulder, all the while not saying a word. He looked down back upon the candle, and with a movement so soft, so graceful, he laid the candle upon the bench and rose, beginning their walk to the camp. Never once did they say a word, but never once did her hand leave his shoulder.

Two years ago I would not even shake your hand Trip, but now I wish only to comfort you, even if it is through touch. Don’t worry Trip, I will take care of you, I will accompany you on this mission. After all, you are my best friend, a friend for whom I would do whatever you asked, how ever illogical it might be…

The stars blinked back at the pair as they moved away from the memorial where the candle still lay flickering. As the night went on the candle gave away to nature and with a wisp of smoke ended its fiery glow. The smoke rose and disappeared into nothingness as the stars continued to twinkle, unmoved by the secret of what was to come for the pair that had said so much and connected so deeply without having said a word.

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Am I first? Sweet! Wonderful, beautiful stuff. I didn't even think about the possibility that Trip's family would blame him. I cannot imagine what that would be like, to lose someone so close to you, and be blamed for it. Again, wonderfully written, thank you very much! :*)

Well done. The inner thoughts of Trip and T'Pol were great. Poor Trip to have his family reject him. I think you have a great start, keep going.

I really liked this. I never much understood Trip's actions after they returned home from the Expanse and he didn't go see his parents or talk much about them to T'Pol. This does a tremendous job of not just explaining his actions in "The Expanse" but also those in season 4.

This is a wonderful first fic. Great job!

Wow, that was so beautiful and so sad.

This is wonderful, Gammaent. I'm really looking forward to seeing where you take this. It never made much sense to me that a Vulcan would give up her entire career to stay on a ship with a bunch of smelly humans, but I like your explanation.

excellent i think you've captured t'pol really well, please keep writing.

Beautiful... thank you, and please continue!

Wonderful storying lookong into T'Pol's and Trip's thoughts and actions before the Expanse and after.I hope you'll do more stories very well done.

I completely agree with the previous statements. This is EXTREMELY well done. I really like the way you captured both characters' thoughts and this even explains why Tucker doesn't have any place to go following the Expanse mission. I guess the parents STILL hadn't forgiven him...

Please say that you will continue this.

Yes, this was very well done. I really needed this right now. Thank you. T.

Very well done. It does help to place events in a context and you have provided a wonderful context.

Only nit pick is that his father would be Charles Tucker 2nd nor Daniel?

The way I read that, Patrick, is that Daniel is Trip's brother/

Thanks everybody, and I'm working on something to follow this up, though I don't know how long it will be.

And Daniel is his brother, Trip mentioned something about a brother in Fusion, so I tried to keep it canon...well tried :)

Beautifully written, total understanding of the characters. One nitpick, and it is more of a legitimate creative choice that I don't happen to like, but I can't believe that Trip's parents would be anything but wonderful parents--how else to explain Trip's self-confidence and open attitude to the world and the people around him. Malcolm obviously had a screwed-up childhood, which makes him reserved and unable to commitment to any of his many girlfriends. Trip is the opposite--I beleive his wonderful parents had something to do with that. But it's still a great story. Poor Trip! we writers can't restrain ourselves from dumping more disasters on him! Oh well. Keep going!

justTrip'n, As parents, I think we'd all like to believe that we have ultimate control over the people our kids turn out to be, but it's been my experience that there are some really great kids out there who are great DESPITE their screwed-up parents... and conversely, that many truly troubled kids have wonderfully supportive and terrific parents. There are, usually unfortunately, but occasionally fortunately, MANY other things that influence a child's development besides his or her parents. Scary thought, isn't it? : )

I love it. Thank you.

Studies with twins separated at birth seem to show that while a terrible upbringing can really mess you up, with an O.K. upbringing or above, you pretty much turn out the way you were supposed to turn out. And yes, it is comforting to us parents!

Wonderful parents make stupid decisions when grieving too. I thought it an interesting (and sadly, believable) decision to have them push Trip away in this moment when he needs them more than ever and actually makes his actions in the Expanse make a little more sense. They blame him so he blames himself...

But hey, he doesn't need 'em. He's got T'Pol to take care of him. :-D

By the way that twin studies comment was me (justTrip'n). Whoops, forgot to sign. By the way, part two of my theory: Why does Trip not seem to be in close contact with his wonderful parents? He takes them for granted, of course, which is the fate of wonderful parents everywhere, in every century.

Nice characterization there. I enjoyed this one very much. I hope you have more T/T stories to tell!

Thanks for all the feedback!

I actually agree with ya justTrip'n, I also imagine Trip's parents as wonderful people. But I guess as Rigil said, some times people make mistakes or don't have the whole story.

But I also agree with Distracted. Being a college student, I've seen both sides of the coin, people with great parents ruining their lives and people with less fortunate backgrounds doing some amazing things...

This is a wonderful story. I'd love to see more. :)

Hey, Gammaent, In the sequel you can have Trip's parents repent as they work out their grief. And we'll get to read more!

This story was very well done. I liked it beginning and ending with images of nature: the breeze, the stars. Nice discourse on the differences between Vulcans and Humans. And the emotions Trip and T'Pol are going through, painful and real. Nice touch having Lizzy's memorial in a garden she designed. I am just stuck on anything about Trip's sister Lizzy, so am glad when someone else writes about her, as I have done in my stories. And the reaction of Trip's family, I thought I was the only one who thought they might reject him! Well done.