Something- Ch. 3

Something From Nothing

By tigerkitten

PG, General, Romance
Disclaimers in Part 1

Chapter 3

Day 2

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He was having a wonderful dream. A deep, sultry voice was making very contented noises. A sharp gasp from her ended with a sigh, whispering his name. He could not see her face, or in fact anything at all but a muted glow. He could hear soft moaning, confused murmuring, and a good bit of shifting around. Slowly, as he drifted out of that half-wakeful state of sleep, he realized that there really were sounds in the room.

Trip awoke, squinting at the brightness straight ahead. He was on his back looking up. The light in the room was nearly as bright as day, but not as glaring as the fluorescent lights on board ship. He'd noticed the strange glow on the ceiling the day before and wondered at its source and intensity. He'd thought about asking T'Pol, but was afraid she'd know, and then she'd probably tell him. He'd been wondering vaguely about it while telling his story last night, before falling asleep. What with one thing and another, he hadn't gotten around to finding a source for that unusual glow that encompassed the entire ceiling.

Suddenly, it hit him that they'd both been asleep.

"T'Pol! T'Pol!," Trip whispered harshly.

"T'Pol!" he repeated more loudly, and scrambling to her anxiously said, "Wake up! You fell asleep."

"Of course, Commander," she said roughly, "It was night, or what passes for night in this environment."

"How do you feel?"

Either he was getting better at reading her, or she sounded almost annoyed when she replied "Tired. Almost as if I were up half the night."

He grinned sardonically, but couldn't resist one last jab as he rose to his feet. "You're awfully testy this morning."

"I neglected to meditate last night."

"Oh." After what felt like an uncomfortably long pause, Trip added lamely, "Sorry." After another pause, he said, "Do you forget very often?"

"Never."

"Huh."

"Well," Trip said, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, " I guess we'd better see what I've got left for rations, and rassle up some grub for breakfast."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at his excessive colloquialism, but merely replied, "I don't think that it would be wise to waste our few rations. I suggest that we forego the morning meal."

"Nah, c'mon now. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. 'Sides, you need to build some strength back up. I can see you're barely sitting upright as it is."

Whether she was still weak, or had just decided he was right, T'Pol acquiesced. Trip settled himself on the floor beneath her cot. T'Pol gingerly finished sitting up, but seemed to lean a bit toward the wall. Pulling the pack to him, Trip made humming noises as he sifted through it.

"Okay, let's see now. We've got an oat snack bar, a barley snack bar, and a rice snack bar. A real gourmet selection. Which will it be?"

"I'll take the rice."

"Right, and barley for me. We'll save the oat for a nice, huge lunch later on. I've got a full water ration pack, so if we're careful we can make it last for at least two days."

They ate in silence, the dry food sticking to their throats. Trip coughed a few times, but T'Pol continued to munch quietly. Trying to take another bite, Trip rasped out, "Good thing we don't have very many of these. We'd use up the water just trying to get them down."

"All right," he said. "The way I see it, we got two options. We can either concentrate on getting in touch with Enterprise, or we can start off looking for food."

"Vulcans can go for several days without food or water. But perhaps we should make certain that you are not in any danger."

Trip was amazed that he didn't feel the usual twinge of bull-headedness these types of comments usually brought out in him. He merely replied, "Let's see if we can rig some sort of amplifier to contact Enterprise. They may have some more news on what's stopping the ship, or can even find a food source for us."

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"Perhaps it's time we seek another option." She was sweating again from their exertions. The planet's sun was probably at its zenith outside, but the thick walls of the room kept out the midday heat. Even so, their close quarters had become increasingly warm. The small items that they had to work with necessitated close proximity, and it was starting to take its toll.

"No, It'll work this time. I've re-wired the com with the beam rectifier from the broken tricorder. It should narrow the signal pattern and double the gain."

"If the ions are disrupting transmissions, it's illogical to assume that a stronger signal will necessarily get through. Enterprise's own systems could not penetrate the electromagnetic fields generated by these storms. Bigger is not always better, Commander."

Trip stopped short for a second, but decided she hadn't just implied what he thought she had. "One more try," he cajoled, seeing she’d about reach the limits of her patience. "Let me just run through this sequence of frequencies one more time." While he continued to concentrate on the work, he said nonchalantly, " We can pick up where we left off before." He glanced up long enough to grin at her. "Teach me another one."

After a considered pause, T'Pol resigned herself, and used her best training voice to slowly pronounce, "Ti'kál Durít."

"Tee-cál dúr-it."

"Durít."

"Dur-eet. Ti'kál Durít. What'd I say?"

"You smell."

He glanced sidelong at her with an annoyed scowl that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Har-dee-har," he said flatly, as her lips turned up a fraction. The changes were subtle, but he was definitely learning to read the signs of wry amusement on T'Pol's face. He'd even fancied he'd caught a glimmer of a smile, once.

"Boy, that Vulcan humor of yours is getting out of control." Gazing down into her eyes, he went on, "You're turning into a real party animal."

She stared at him unblinkingly, but he didn't see animosity in her eyes. Reaching out to squeeze her arm lightly, Trip said "Okay, teach me another."

T'Pol flinched slightly, dropped her gaze, and said brusquely, "Not now. I'm tired."

"Oh, right. Sure," he replied quickly, not quite sure what he'd done wrong this time. "You get some rest. I'll try to keep quiet." With that he gave up on the rigged transmitter, got up and moved off from her awkwardly.

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Rather than risk disturbing T'Pol with his tinkering, Trip looked for something new to keep him occupied. Never one to leave a mystery unsolved, he turned on his heel, and strode out to the front hall.

By Trip's reckoning, they'd been in this building for just about a full day. That was plenty of time to see how much care had gone into making it a structure that would last centuries. The weather on this planet was clearly brutal, but the thickness of the building showed its architect built the dwelling to stand against the elements.

A sneaking suspicion had begun to take shape throughout the day. Stepping as carefully as he could, Trip started his way up the rubble. A few steps took him close enough to solve the first mystery. The glow on the ceiling was a sort of phosphorescent lichen that seemed to thrive in this environment. With the ceiling collapse, most of the lichen was gone in this room, and what was left appeared dimmer and withering. Keeping his eyes focused high on the wall, Trip missed his footing in the dim light. The resulting slide of debris sounded like an avalanche to him, and he grimaced and glanced guiltily towards the room where T'Pol slept.

Hearing no signs of movement, Trip crept higher up the pile. Just as his head was about to graze the remainder of the ceiling, he found what he was looking for. There, just below the rooftop, he found thick groves in the wall at regular intervals. They stretched down from the ceiling, and he could only assume, continued on to the floor. Smirking at the confirmation of his suspicions, Trip carefully made his way back down the pile.

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He tried not to stare at her as he passed back through the room. Part of him dreaded what she'd have to say if he accidentally woke her. The other part was slightly anxious. Her features were so peaceful, and she lay so still that he could almost imagine life left her completely. He found himself staring, waiting for the even rise and fall of her chest, gazing at the metered expansion of her ribcage, marveling at the swell it added to her...uh...this probably wasn't a good line of thought to follow, he decided.

Shaking his head to clear it, Trip stalked straight through the room and into the hall beyond. Turning a sharp right, he made his way immediately to the door outside. Vaguely, he was aware that there were no groves in the hallway leading to this door.

The door opened easily enough, and might have even been silent, but it was hard to tell over the intense howling of the wind that blasted into him. Trip had made such a hasty retreat, that he wasn't prepared and was knocked almost to the floor by the first gust.

Ducking down brought him under shelter of the walkway whose wall ended at this door. Mostly protected from the storm blowing stinging sand at him, Trip was able to reach up and grope for the handle to close the door. He hoped without much faith that the noise hadn't woken T'Pol.

In his last trip out this door, he'd only stayed long enough to see that there was a courtyard and a walled walkway. Now Trip made his way, bent nearly double so that his hands almost grazed the stone path. The wall offered fair protection, being more than waist high if he'd been inclined to stand. He wasn't. He settled instead for shuffling his way behind the wall.

The walkway led to a sort of juncture and spread out like spokes in a wheel to other buildings. Trip popped his head up for a cautious peek around, and ducked back down quickly. From the back, the buildings all looked pretty much the same. For that matter, they probably looked pretty much the same from the front, he mused. There was only so much you could do with rock. He'd seen enough to know that not all of the buildings were shaped the same as the one where they'd stayed. To his right, the one next to theirs was much wider, and the one next to it was wider still. Behind him, a building of identical shape immediately followed their dwelling. The same seemed to be true straight ahead.

To his left, however, it appeared that he was seeing the front of the buildings. They had the same step-tier look to them that he'd suspected when inside his own. All together, they surrounded a square courtyard. He'd been up long enough to know he didn't particularly want to take another look. The wind seemed almost trapped in the courtyard, the buildings at the back being closer together than those at the front. With no way out, the wind just kept circling the enclosure, filling up with more dust and sand as it swirled. He'd been able to see how it was starting to collect in huge drifts by the back buildings, the piles starting to flow out into the courtyard and threatening to overtake the wall.

One direction being as good as another, Trip turned down the walkway to his right, nearly running, 4-legged to the next building. Mercifully, the door opened easily, and he dashed inside. He stood up and quickly closed the door behind him, but he almost wished he hadn't.

Once the door closed the darkness was nearly completely. Trip hadn't realized how he'd come to count on the lichen on the ceiling, and he'd forgotten to grab the flashlight on his dash to leave. The air here felt more oppressed, and he could hear low scuttling down a far hallway. The dim light was enough for him to move around, but he wasn't particularly keen on finding the source of the noise.

There were hallways in either direction, and straight ahead was a doorway. Making his way through it, Trip saw the hazy outlines of a narrow room, much like the one where T'Pol lay. This one was much longer, but barely half as wide. Straight ahead, he could see the long hallway leading to the front door.

In three strides, he was across the room and starting towards the far door. He thought about feeling for grooves in the walls, but decided he was afraid of what else might be living or growing there. He was nearly to the door, when he tripped on something jutting up from the floor.

Cursing, he tried to see what it was, but eventually gave it up. "Guess I'd come back with the light. Might as well wait until T'Pol can come with me," he mumbled to himself.

"Okay, little critters," he called out to the empty room. "I'm gonna shove off now, so you just stay where you are. You don't bother me, and, uh, I won't bother you," he said, looking around as backed out of the hallway.

Suppressing a shiver, Trip turned and began his way back to his dwelling. "Don't really want to leave T'Pol all alone anyway," he thought to himself in an almost convincing manner. "Probably gone into a coma from head trauma, already." Struggling with unwarranted apprehension, he rushed to get back.

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He was being as quiet as he could while she continued to sleep. Too bad Trip Tucker had never been very good at sitting still.

"I'll just peek in on her real quick," he told himself. Nevermind that he'd already checked on her twice. Truth be told, he was bored and missed having someone to talk to. Or at least fight with.

He'd tried to keep to the other rooms. After the third pass through the main room, it finally occurred to him to take the rigged comm with him to work on. He'd fiddled with it for a bit, but just couldn't concentrate, still worried about T'Pol's sleep. Funny thing about that. He'd have thought with the so-called superior Vulcan physiognomy, she'd be feeling better by now.

After what seemed like the forty-second pass through the small building, Trip returned to the main chamber where he was surprised to see T'Pol rising from the stone cot.

"You're awake!" he cried with unguarded delight.

"Obviously. It is somewhat difficult to sleep deeply when someone is shuffling loudly through your sleeping chamber repeatedly."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked, brow furrowed, and more than a little confused at her unexpected change in attitude. He'd hoped that a little more sleep would make her appear less grumpy. Maybe he was just reading too much into her, though. Trip tried to remind himself that Vulcans could come off cold when they meant nothing at all.

"I would have thought you'd be able to occupy yourself with something more productive than wearing a path in the floor," she replied, looking so hard into his eyes, that Trip had the impression she was looking right through him and not seeing him at all.

"Well excuse me for caring if your busted head ever heals!"

"As usual, your emotions have interfered with your ability to do your job efficiently. Your time would have been better spent investigating the unique qualities of our environment for some clue to the cause of Enterprise's distress."

Trip was so mad he could have spit. He'd just spent the better part of the last hour worrying about whether or not she should even be asleep, and she wakes up meaner than a molting snake on a hot summer day.

"Well it's nice to see you've woken up to your old charming self! It just so happens I did do a bit of poking about while you were out. Just take a look at this!" he cried, stalking off towards the front hall. T'Pol strode easily after him.

He'd been carrying the flashlight for a while, and pointed its beam at one wall. "Just take a look at that!"

"It's a wall. And a large pile of debris that my head remembers quite well."

"Thank you, Miss Superiority. I'm talkn' about the grooves in the wall," he spat, anger punctuating his words with a sharper twang than normal. "Jest about the same width as that door frame, i'n't it? I've been thinking about that collapse for hours. With that long hallway, the grooves, hell, the shape of the whole building, I'd be willing to bet it was all intentional. Why the front of this building faces practically right into the wind. I'll bet they built that hallway so they could move the door back as the wind started to wear away the building," he finished smugly, nodding his head for emphasis.

"A logical deduction," T'Pol replied placatingly. She looked at Trip, but he appeared unwilling to back down. She continued, "I apologize if I have seemed rude to you. It has been some time since I last meditated."

Trip dropped his eyes in confusion. He’d never heard a Vulcan apologize before. Not sincerely, anyway. "Yeah, well, s'okay. I'm usually a real bear when I first wake up. Anyway, I'm still not sure what caused the collapse. Guess they had their calculations off, and the wind came at if from an angle. Seems a little strange for them to make that kind of mistake though."

"Perhaps they didn't. It may be that the planet's weather patterns have altered slightly since the structure was completed."

Nodding acquiescence, Trip led the way back out to the main room. "Were you able to explore any of the other structures?" T'Pol wanted to know.

Sheepishly, Trip admitted, "Well, it's not too bad trying to get to them, but I only looked around in one for a minute or two.

"Was there nothing there?"

Not anxious to admit squeamishness, Trip mumbled "It was kinda dark, but I heard stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, you know...scuttling." Seeing T'Pol's raised eyebrow, he went on, "I don't like bugs much, okay? I'm a space junkie. Besides, these sounded kinda...big."

"Do you mean big enough to eat?"

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The scuttling began immediately after they’d closed the door behind them. The long hallway branched out both directions, but their flashlights found no sign of anything living.

"I believe the sounds are coming from the front," T’Pol said, pointing her light in that direction.

Wiping a grimace from him face, Trip grinned widely and sweeping his arm forward replied, "Ladies first."

Pointedly ignoring him, T'Pol went through the narrow room to the hallway on the other side.

Her flashlight was pointed toward the floor, and as it swept through the hall, two points of light reflected back at her. T'Pol pulled up short, giving Trip the chance to catch up with her. There in front of them, sitting on a rock jutting out from the floor, was a large, vole-like creature. It sat upright, measuring about a foot and a half off the ground.

The creature had no fur to speak of, but instead was covered in a spiky mass, much like a porcupine, though the quills were shorter and thicker. At the base of it legs, its three-toed feet ended in massive claws, each easily measuring three to four inches, and looking as strong and sharp as a hunting knife. Its two front paws had smaller versions of the same, and they held the remains of something which it popped into its mouth.

The creature continued to stare directly into the flashlight, its eyes glowing in a disturbing fashion. As they watched, it reached over to the wall, and brought back in its paw a beetle nearly half a foot long. It took the bug between both hands, and calmly took a large, crunching bite.

T'Pol swept the light in a quick arc. It was long enough to see patches of the huge beetles covering the walls and ceiling. Trip said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't tried to touch the walls.

"Well," T'Pol said at last, "It appears that we've found something we know is edible."

"And crunchy... Ew, it sounds like they’re all bones. Uh, maybe we'd be allergic to the bugs. Or maybe that thing wouldn't take too kindly to us helping ourselves in his kitchen. Hey, do you think we can talk to it?"

T'Pol removed the bioscanner from her belt. The quick movement caught the creature's eye, and it left its perch and moved slowly away. As it shuffled, its large claws scraped along the floor, creating the scuttling noise that had drawn them here.

"Should I try and stop it?"

"No," T'Pol replied, "It does not have the capacity for speech. Perhaps instead we should try out its food source." She moved her light towards the wall, but as she did so, the beetles inched away from its glow, making a sort of ticking hiss as they moved.

"I don't think I'm that hungry. You go ahead."

"I am a vegetarian, remember? Besides, Vulcans can survive for several days without food or water. In addition our digestive systems are much stronger than humans."

Trip tried in vain to come up with a good reply to that one. He should have said something about Vulcan superiority. He should have tried again to claim he could do without them. He was pretty sure she'd keep at it, though. She'd come back with how they had no way of knowing how many days they'd be here, or how he should be more accepting and trying new things.

Gulping back his aversion, and a good bit of pride, Trip reached a reluctant hand to the wall. He had to feel around a bit before finding one. When he did, his fingers sunk into the shell slightly as he pulled it off the wall. Though the shells looked hard and solid, in reality they were pliable, much like a soft shelled crab.

Giving the offending creature a sneering look, Trip brought it towards his mouth. As he did so, he looked up at T'Pol. There was just enough light to see her eyes. He could swear he saw a devilish glint in them, though it may be a trick of the muted glow.

"Say, ah, isn't this a violation of protocol to eat alien life forms? Never know how important these little guys might be."

She maintained her usual enigmatic countenance, but that minute gleam was still in her eyes. "Perhaps you are right, Commander. We may wish instead to investigate the rock the creature was sitting on. It appears to be some sort of opening."

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"Man, this place goes on forever. How long we been down here?'

"Two hours and fifteen minutes. In other words, precisely eleven minutes and fourteen seconds since the last time that you asked," replied T'Pol, almost biting the words off.

Unperturbed, Trip merely turned to her and grinned, "So, are we there, yet?" Seeing T'Pol's raised eyebrow, he went on, "Sorry, bad joke."

T'Pol appeared mildly placated, but it didn't stop Trip from grinning like he'd just caught the canary. "Sure you don't want me to teach you any more games?" he asked, failing to look deceptively innocent.

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"I had quite enough of your 'games' with..."

"I spy." She merely nodded agreement. "What's wrong with 'I spy'?"

"It might have been a thought provoking game," T'Pol admitted, "if the answer had not always been 'glowing lichen'."

"Well," he replied, his grin showing not a bit of remorse, "That's all there is down here."

The strange moss had done well in the underground tunnel where they walked. So well, in fact, that it had grown down the walls, and in some places was making its way across the floor.

"Too bad I didn't think to bring my shades," said Trip. "I think my corneas are being burned off by this light," he joked.

T'Pol pulled out her scanner and studied the lichen. "I see no indication that the light emitted is harmful," she said, "perhaps you should..."

"Oh, put it away," Trip interrupted, laying his hand gently on her arm to push it down. He expected at least a raised eyebrow at the touch, but she hadn't seemed to notice. "Don't you know by now not to pay attention to half the things I say?"

"Of course, Commander," she replied, though her bland countenance implied confusion. After too long a pause, she began almost hesitantly, "It is strange that the lichen grows in such profusion in this tunnel system."

"Maybe those beetles feed off of it."

"That is possible, though unlikely, as they seem to shy away from the light. I believe that is what keeps them away from these passages."

"Hmm, maybe," Trip mused, "They looked like burrowing insects. Maybe the lichen kinda took over their territory and forced them out of that open entrance we found in the building upstairs." After another long pause, he changed the subject, "Haven't seen any more off-shoots from the main passage. Guess there aren't any more settlements like the one where we started."

"That would imply that this passage connects the settlement we were in to something of significance, possibly even additional resources."

They walked in companionable silence for some time before Trip grinned impishly and said, "Hey, how long have we been down here?"

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After another half hour of walking, they could see a change in the passageway ahead. As they drew closer, they could make out steps rising from the tunnel floor.

"Finally!" Trip said, exasperated. "If I weren't already hungry enough, there's nothing like two or three hours of walking to make a man forget he's out of food."

"There is still one more snack bar. If you are that hungry, you are welcome to..."

"Don't even say it," he interrupted, "my momma would never forgive me if I let a woman go hungry so I could eat."

"I must repeat, Commander, that Vulcans can go for several days without..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he interrupted again, smirking to soften his words, "Here we go with another tale about superior Vulcan physiognomy. When T'Pol look like she'd try to plead her case again, he raised his eyebrows and wagged a finger at her with an accompanying shake of the head.

The conversation had given them enough time to reach the stairs, and they started up them. The top was blocked off, as they'd expected, but a slight thinning in the 'ceiling of lichen' hinted that this was meant to move.

Trip raised his arms above his head, and the giant stone above him lifted easily and slid to the side, as if of its own accord. Stepping through, he almost forgot to help T'Pol, he was so shocked by what he saw. They had stepped out directly into a hydroponics lab full of living plants overburden with fruit.

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Trip was still munching on something that tasted like an odd combination between a nectarine and a pear, as he walked along, eyes fixed to the ceiling. He was tracing the flow of electricity into and out of the hydroponics lab. The vegetation here was growing so thick that it seemed about to overwhelm the simple grow lights, but they continued to shine unabated.

"Gotta find that power source," he mumbled to himself, brow furrowing as he lost the power lines amongst the branches of a tree that had grown to ceiling height, its limbs spreading outward when they could no longer go up.

If they'd ever held a doubt that something here was still providing power to the systems that blocked Enterprise, one look at this lab would have squelched it. There was a slight indication that there had once been orderly plantings in contained tanks, but now the room was more like a contained jungle. Filters still pumped air and nutrients into large tanks, but the unused fruit and dying leaves had fallen to the floor, creating a pungent carpet. Microrganisms must have been introduced into the room, because they'd decayed years or maybe centuries of dead fauna enough that new plants had taken root along the ground.

He was still looking for the source of electricity, when he heard T'Pol's call.

"Commander, over here."

She was standing calmly as always, but he detected a slight air of anticipation about her. Behind her, she had uncovered a patch, clearly showing a console underneath.

"Is that what we've been looking for?"

"I'm unfamiliar with any of these systems, but it appears to be a communications station."

"What's that blinking?"

"I believe it’s an incoming message."

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Two hours later they stood, heads bent close in consultation, listening to the gibberish still coming from their translator.

"Nah, it's just not sophisticated enough. I've been looking at this panel over here," Trip said, pointing to her left, "and I think I can reverse it for input."

"It would seem logical that this race's translators are more capable than our own."

Trip leaned in front of her to tap out a variety of sequences on the panel. Trying to get a better view of the screen, T'Pol bent forward, laying her hand on Trip's back for support.

"I think you have it, Commander."

"Good, playback the language sequence."

T'Pol did so, and they waited with baited breath for a reaction. A quiet blip was the only response they received. "Okay, now to tie it in to the message. Keep your fingers crossed."

He tapped out a few more commands; then relaxed onto his forearms to wait for the result.

"Greetings, Halaudin settlers."

Trip let out a loud whoop of triumph as he bounced upright. He had a strong urge to hug something. Looking at T'Pol's face, and realizing how close she was, he immediately thought better of it.

"We have received the latest transmission of your anticipated lift off time, and are anxious for your first interspatial communication. By our calculations, you should have pulled free of the planet's gravity several hours ago. We have been expecting your first check in for some time. Please communicate immediately."

Trip's face fell slowly as he listened. Though she retained her usual calm, he could tell that T'Pol was also affected by the unsettling message.

After a short pause and an announced star date, it continued, "Greetings, Halaudin settlers. It appears that your interstellar transmitter did not survive your early ordeals as well as you had hoped. The High Council hopes that you will be able to repair it in flight, and anxiously awaits the triumphant return of you and your cargo. Please communicate as soon as you are able."

There were several more entreaties for contact to follow. A sinking feeling had already settled in Trip's gut before a more subdued voice made the final entry, "Halaudin settlers: It has been one month since your anticipated arrival. We held hope for a great many weeks that transmission problems had forced you to return back to the settlement rather than home as we expected. As there has been ample time for you to return to your settlement and renew contact, The High Council has been forced to inform your families that you are presumed deceased. Your people continue to pray daily for your recovery and for the success of your mission. Our blessings and our gratitude for your sacrifice be with you."

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"Let the flame guide you, let your thoughts be free."

Trip stared at the small bonfire of vegetation as he'd been instructed. He was never one for mystic pursuits, but the recording had disturbed him more than he cared to admit. Up until now it had all been one grand adventure. He'd almost forgotten that Enterprise was trapped far above them. Knowing that one group of people had not made it safely from here shed a new perspective on their situation.

They had agreed that the trek back to the settlement was pointless until they'd had time to explore their new location. Well fed for the first time all day, Trip struggled to keep his eyes on the flame, and to concentrate on the mellow, soothing voice.

He didn't even notice when he'd lay down, nor when he'd let go of his concern for their situation. He could think of nothing concrete, feel nothing unsettling, and could only hear a soft, rich drone in the back of his subconscious. Heaving one last heavy sigh, Trip Tucker gave in to sleep, as a fulfilled smile settled onto his features.

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