FIC: Circle's End, Archer/Reed, 11/16

[cloudy_fic]

Title: Circle's End, Part Eleven
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Enterprise
Pairings: Archer/Reed, T'Pol/Tucker
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Paramount. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Beta: tookish_girl. Thanks!
Warnings: Still not deathfic.
Summary: Ten years after an explosion on an alien planet, Jon and Malcolm deal with two very different realities.
Author's Notes: None really.


"You didn't really walk all the way back to your transport in your underwear?"

The question was directed at Trip, but Senara's shocked eyes were fixed firmly on Malcolm.

"Didn't have any other choice," Trip said, his face alight with amusement. "They robbed us blind. I reckon we're lucky they left us our skivvies."

Senara clapped a hand over her mouth and tried very hard not to burst into laughter. She failed.

"Oh Father!"

Her laughter was sweet and infectious. Despite his distracted thoughts, Jonathan found himself smiling at her happiness. He could easily see why Malcolm had fallen so hard for her. On Earth, they said the eyes were the windows to the soul. If Senara was anything to go by, they could say the Alearan eyes were the doorway to the heart. Her dark brown eyes changed in a thousand subtle ways with each new emotion. She was either incapable or unwilling to hide what she felt, especially positive emotions. Jonathan could tell by the way she looked at Talin and Malcolm and now himself that she was the type of person to heap affection on those she loved. For all his emotional reserve, Malcolm had always clung to people like that, soaking up their freely given tenderness like a sponge.

Jonathan sincerely wished he could spend the rest of the day holding Malcolm's hand and listening to Trip retell as many stories from Malcolm's past as he could. Seeing Senara's face light up with each new tale, hearing Trip's voice shake with laughter and knowing that T'Pol was trying valiantly to suppress a smile was doing Jonathan a world of good. The real joy though, was watching Malcolm. Seeing his lover digest each new story, watching his expression change as he slowly began to fill in his past was not only fascinating, but exhilarating. Unfortunately, Jonathan couldn't afford the luxury. Until they knew what happened, neither of them would be able to truly move on and start rebuilding their lives.

"I'm going to make a quick call," he said during the next storytelling pause. He squeezed Malcolm's hand as he stood, intending to use the comm in the bedroom.

"Do you want me to come?" Malcolm asked.

"No, it's ok. I'm sure Trip has some more stories to tell," he replied, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the mouth. "This won't take a moment."

"Alright." A little smile played around his mouth and though he didn't say anything further, Jonathan could read the unspoken message in his eyes. Hurry back. Jonathan understood the feeling. He already hated it when Malcolm was out of his sight.

Trip immediately launched into another story, stealing Malcolm, T'Pol and Senara's attention. Talin, however, watched Jonathan leave, his shrewd dust-colored eyes following Jonathan's every move. Jonathan wasn't sure what to make of the tall quiet blacksmith. The man exuded strength and protectiveness, over both Senara and Malcolm, which Jonathan could relate to and appreciate. However, there was a caution in his demeanor Jonathan couldn't fathom. He watched everything and everyone closely, as if memorizing their words and actions for later use. Jonathan had a feeling there was a lot more to Talin than his simple upbringing would suggest.

The door to Jonathan's balcony was still open from when Malcolm and Talin had used it earlier. A slight early evening breeze filled the room with damp fragrant air, the unfamiliar spicy scents and low purplish orange light making Capsin seem even more exotic than it already did. He sat at the comm across from the bed and went through the proper procedures and channels to get a hold of Matein. In surprisingly little time, a testament to how anxious the Alearans were to join the UFP, Matein's friendly face appeared on Jonathan's screen.

"Admiral Archer! How are you feeling?"

Confusion knitted Jonathan's eyebrows together. "Feeling?"

"Yes." Matein paused, uncertain. "I assumed when you cancelled the morning meetings that you'd taken ill."

"Oh. No, I'm well. I apologize for canceling so abruptly without a good explanation. Something very unexpected happened," Jonathan explained.

"Is everything alright?"

There wasn't a good way to ease into a story like this, Jonathan realized. And given the number of times he'd likely have to tell it, he knew he'd just have to get used to plunging right to the heart of the issue, despite the desire to linger over his joyful disbelief.

"My partner, Malcolm Reed, didn't die in the explosion, Chancellor. He survived, but lost much of his memory. I know this because he found me again this morning."

Matein's reaction was exactly what Jonathan suspected it would be. Lips parting and eyes widening, he seemed momentarily unable to speak.

"Admiral," he finally breathed, shocked. "Could it really be true?"

Jonathan smiled. "I assure you it is, Chancellor. He is alive and well and just as confused about what happened as I am. I was hoping I could rely on your help in reopening the investigation into the explosion."

"Yes, yes, of course," Matein said hurriedly, swallowing his astonishment. "I will order the records unsealed immediately. I don't know what more can be done now, though, after all these years. All of the members of that particular terrorist cell were either killed in the explosion or captured at their home base in Trueain."

At the time, Jonathan had been too angry to feel anything, but vindictive pleasure at the Alearan government's ruthless eradication of the terrorist cell. Most of those involved were killed, but some had been left behind to send the message. Each member, it was thought then, had been taken into custody.

"As far as we know," Jonathan countered. "Malcolm was found in the forest by a young Alearan woman named Senara. Based on her account of his physical state, I'm led to believe Malcolm was taken out of the building by force and beaten severely. It's possible that whoever did it has since been captured, but going by what I know of Malcolm's fighting skills, I'd say it's more likely that he fought off the attacker somehow and probably killed them himself."

In truth, even Jonathan's knowledge of Malcolm's prowess in personal combat didn't make the situation any less unthinkable. Fighting who knows how many people off with life threatening injuries...it had been over for ten years and yet Jonathan still shuddered with the knowledge of how desperately close he'd come to losing Malcolm anyway.

"What worries me is how Malcolm got out of that building," he continued. Matein nodded thoughtfully.

"That's true. We know how they got in and we've since enhanced the screening system for any and all individuals entering government buildings, but even so, the terrorists were obscenely clever at how they got the bomb inside."

Jonathan remembered it all too well. They'd taken elements of the bomb, each seemingly harmless until they were once again rejoined, in separately and constructed the bomb within a bottom floor conference room. That was the main reason so many of the terrorists were killed. The transport of the necessary elements into the building was a massive undertaking, mostly under the guise of normal Alearans going about their business. During the original investigation, it was discovered that only one of the conspirators, one that had died in the blast, actually worked in that building. It was assumed she had gotten the job three months earlier with the intention of finding a way to gain access to the private conference room.

"But if someone took him away, that means somebody survived. Someone with the power to make sure no one saw him leaving. Possibly even fabricate some of the evidence of his death." The explosion had been devastating. There'd been nothing left of anyone inside, but ash, making it difficult at first to identify everyone who'd been inside. Jon knew they couldn't fake the DNA evidence that confirmed that something of Malcolm, a great deal of blood perhaps, had been left behind, but the eye witnesses, Alearans who claimed they left the building before it exploded and had seen Malcolm still inside, they might have been planted by whoever planned the explosion.

Matein's expression changed subtly. Jonathan frowned as he caught the barest flash of panic, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, to be replaced by a hint of tense anger creeping into his tawny eyes. "You think it was someone higher up," he said stiffly. Jonathan searched Matein's face, but couldn't tell whether that anger was directed at Jonathan's insinuation or at the possibility of betrayal from his own people.

"I think it's very possible. And it's also possible that the terrorist cell is still active. Have there been any hints of anything like it?"

Matein shook his head. "Nothing quite like that. Several years after you left Aleara, there were a number of peaceful protests on two of the other continents, as I disclosed early in the UFP negotiations, but those groups all denounced the violence of the first situation."

Jonathan sighed. This wasn't really telling him anything and he felt the frustration already beginning to build within him. "I think this would be easier to discuss in person along with the records, Chancellor. I want to bring Malcolm with me to look at everything. He lost his memory, but his mind still works the same way it always did and he was always excellent at catching little details others miss. I'm certain that's why he went into that building in the first place." Jonathan loved him the way he was, of course, but this wasn't the first time it occurred to Jonathan that both their lives would have been a hell of lot easier if Malcolm hadn't been keeping such a close eye on everything. "I don't have high hopes for him remembering anything about the actual attack, but there's always a chance he might recognize a picture or detail; anything to jog his memory about what happened."

Glancing quickly at something to his left, Matein nodded. "The dinner I'd planned for the delegation is in two hours. Why don't you come an hour from now? That'll give us a little time to get started and then perhaps your Malcolm can talk to some of the Alearan delegates who were in office at the time. They might also...jog his memory?"

"Sounds good. In an hour then. Thank you, Chancellor."

"And you as well, Admiral." Matein's heavy expression lifted suddenly, as if he just remembered something. "The holy leaders have truly blessed you. This feels like such a mess, but we must remember the good." He leaned forward. "And I promise you, Admiral, I will not allow this mystery to go unsolved. If any party responsible remains alive, I will personally make sure they are captured and punished. Severely."

His tone sent shivers up Jonathan's spine. The previous anger darkened his voice, a tic twitched at the corner of his top lip. Jonathan now had no doubt that Matein's ill will was aimed at himself, his people, anyone who might have gotten away with this atrocity and those that had let them do so. He didn't feel the same degree of vindictive pleasure he had before, but there was a measure of satisfaction that Matein was taking this threat very seriously.

"I only hope we find something, Chancellor. I'll see you soon. Archer out."

He clicked the comm off and sat back in his chair, his mind now full to bursting. Doing something would help; taking action always comforted Jonathan. But the unknowns in this investigation more than frustrated him. If Malcolm couldn't remember anything, Jonathan didn't know how they'd uncover a mystery that had lain dormant for ten years. Whoever had covered their tracks so long ago might still have the power to do so. He couldn't stomach the thought that they may never discover what had happened to Malcolm. Nothing could make up for their lost time, but if they were able to bring the guilty parties to justice, at least it would give their separation some meaning.

Minutes passed as Jonathan sat contemplating the next move, though he didn't realize it. Eventually, a noise from behind snapped him out of his musings and he turned to see T'Pol poke her head in the bedroom door.

"Jonathan?"

He stood. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She walked in slowly, perhaps unsure of her welcome. "I believed Malcolm wished you to return to our discussion, so I came to check on you. You've been gone longer than expected."

"He didn't say he wanted me to come back?" Jonathan asked, leaning back against the desk. T'Pol glanced away briefly before meeting his eyes once again.

"Not in words. But his gaze was often turned to the bedroom door. I don't think he wanted to interrupt Trip, so I came myself," she explained. Jonathan didn't quite smile. This must be Trip's way of dealing with Malcolm's sudden reappearance in his life. To make up for ten years of missed conversations in as little time as possible. Malcolm most likely didn't feel comfortable enough with him yet to tell him to stuff it for half a second.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know I'd been gone for so long. I just got to thinking..." An explosive sigh from Jonathan startled them both.

"What is it?" T'Pol questioned softly, coming closer to peer at him. "What did Chancellor Matein say?"

"Nothing of any use," he said bitterly. "T'Pol, I don't know what we're going to do. The only person I can trust that knows what happened is Malcolm. And he can't remember anything about it!" The frustration gnawed at his insides, making him feel like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. "And now I'm beginning to believe the threat might not be gone. We could all still be in very real danger."

T'Pol was silent at his outburst, but she was clearly thinking very hard about what he'd said. Without warning, she spun around and closed the bedroom door.

"Jonathan, sit down."

He was too surprised at her sudden change in demeanor to do anything, but obey without question. She drew up another chair and sat beside him, uncharacteristic hesitation blanketing her actions.

"What?"

"I have been thinking. Ever since we found out that Malcolm was alive, I have been pondering the mystery of his supposed death and all possible avenues of investigation. One option made itself apparent immediately, but I was not sure about suggesting it until now," she said, her deadly serious expression bordering on grim. Comprehensive pierced Jonathan's mind, almost painfully.

"A meld," he whispered. She nodded in confirmation.

"Malcolm may never remember what happened, but the imprint of the memory exists. He is simply cut off from it." She took a deep breath before continuing. "You know I have been training my mind extensively since I was cured of the disease. If I'm very careful, I believe I can find my way to the damaged memories and discover the truth."

Jonathan swallowed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Is it dangerous?" he asked carefully.

"Not dangerous," she answered. "Intrusive. I've been trained. He has not. No matter the barriers I put up to avoid probing unrelated thoughts, I am going to have to delve deeply. He might not be able to stop me from learning much he...and you possibly don't wish me to know."

"I have to be honest, T'Pol," Jonathan said as he straightened up. "If having you know a little more about me than I'd like means the difference between knowing the truth and not, I'd tell you anything you wanted to know myself." He glanced to the bedroom door, imagining Malcolm behind it, finally getting a chance to learn more about himself. "But ultimately the decision isn't mine to make."

"No. But I want you to understand what this entails, Jonathan," she said, one hand fluttering as if she wanted to reach out and touch him to enhance his understanding. "This kind of meld is powerful. I will know much about Malcolm's mind and he about mine. I am willing and if he is, we could begin immediately. He won't be changed in any appreciable way, but there is a chance I will leave a permanent impression on him."

Much like Surak and T'Pau had on him. Any meld left the two participants changed, in some way. But if this was the only way for them to have peace, to have closure, Jonathan knew they'd have to try. "Don't sell yourself short, T'Pol. You'd leave a permanent impression on anyone, even without the meld," he said with a smile, hoping to bring a little levity into the discussion. Too his surprise, she gave him a slight smile.

"I'll take that as a compliment." The smile faded quickly. "As long as you are aware of the side effects, I am still willing."

Jonathan wasn't entirely sure he fully understood the side effects. He'd never heard of a meld being performed to retrieve memories. There was no question of his trust that T'Pol spoke the truth when she said it wasn't dangerous, that Malcolm wouldn't be hurt. And he knew it wouldn't be a bond like the kind she shared with Trip. Dealing with T'Pol knowing intimate details about himself would be hard, but the more important matter was how Malcolm would deal with it. T'Pol could discover a lot about Jonathan through Malcolm, but not everything. It would be Malcolm's most private thoughts potentially on display, something that would be intensely difficult for a man like Malcolm, who guarded his privacy more fiercely than anyone Jonathan had ever met.

"It's his decision," Jonathan reiterated. "But if he is willing, than so am I."

As T'Pol nodded and stood to go back into the living room, Jonathan followed and prayed he wasn't making a very big mistake.

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Part Twelve