FIC: Circle's End, Archer/Reed, 12/16

[cloudy_fic]

Title: Circle's End, Part Twelve
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Enterprise
Pairings: Archer/Reed, T'Pol/Tucker
Rating: R
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: I am by no means an expert on mind melding (can you be?). This is just my interpretation of what could happen in this situation. :)



Trip thought Senara's eyes were going to fall out of her head when he got around to telling the story about his short lived pregnancy. Even Talin, who had done little more than smile and occasionally chuckle so far, looked surprised.

"Terran males can become pregnant?" she squeaked. Trip grinned. He was really falling in love with this kid, with her always present smile, sparkling brown eyes and almost British accent, clearly as close a copy as she could get to Malcolm's way of speaking. He absolutely hated that Malcolm had been forced to spend all this time away from Jon and himself, all their friends, but at least, if he had to, he'd been with this sweet, loving young woman.

"Not normally," he assured her, shifting in his chair, preparing to launch into the full story. However, he was interrupted when T'Pol and Jon walked in from the bedroom, both looking extremely serious. Trip felt a jolt of unease.

"Everything ok?" he asked, studying T'Pol. He couldn't have explained how he knew, but something in her expression, the way she looked at him, told him that she was nervous about something. "What is it?"

At Trip's question, every head turned towards Jon and T'Pol, varying degrees of concern of each face. Jon walked to Malcolm's side and retook his hand, sitting heavily, as if he had a great burden. Which Trip imagined wasn't far from the truth.

"Just spoke to Chancellor Matein. Nothing conclusive there, but he did offer to reopen the case immediately," Jon said to the room before turning specifically to Malcolm. "He said we can look over the files before dinner." He sighed. "Not that I'll feel much like eating, but there'll be some people there we might get some information from. Anything to help piece together what happened."

Malcolm nodded, scrutinizing Jon in much the same way Trip had T'Pol just a moment earlier.

"There's more, isn't there." It wasn't really a question. Trip almost smiled, but didn't, given the grim mood of the room. After he'd gotten used to the shock of seeing Malcolm in the flesh or as used to it as he could in such a short amount of time, Trip's first thought had been about how Malcolm would now act around them. Without his memory, how could things ever really be the same? If they didn't have that base of shared experiences, did that mean their relationships were destroyed?

But then Trip and T'Pol had come to Jon's room to meet Malcolm's Alearan family and Trip had discovered that, while everything was different, everything was still the same. Malcolm couldn't remember those harrowing hours in Shuttle pod One or their exploits on Risa or being beamed from that access tube right in front to Jon's feet, but he was still Malcolm. Still scary smart. Still sarcastic as hell. Still obviously in love with Jon. That last thing comforted Trip a great deal. He still wished he'd found out about them a different way, but their relationship had been a constant for Trip for years, even after Malcolm's 'death'. He didn't know how he would have dealt with finding a Malcolm that didn't intuitively know what Jon was thinking. It gave him hope that their friendship would soon be as comfortable as it once was.

"Not about Matein," Jon answered. "But T'Pol had an idea. And," he drew out the word, staring at their hands. "I think it's a good one."

"What idea?" Malcolm asked her. Studying her closer, Trip could see that this was the cause of her nerves. She sat on Malcolm's other side, took a very slight calming breath and spoke.

"I believe I may be able to retrieve some of your memories through a mind meld," she explained. Surprise washed over Trip. He hadn't even considered a mind meld. The idea was sound, of course, logical and all that. But...Trip shifted uncomfortably. He knew from experience that mind melds brought two individuals closer than any human could possibly imagine. Repeated melds or particularly deep melds could potentially leave a permanent mark on one's mind, like the one T'Pol had left on his. Trip often felt like he could hear T'Pol's voice in his head, telling him what she would think of different situations or concepts. But then, their bond made it a special circumstance.

Even so, it was possible that Malcolm would transfer something of himself to her, making them linked somehow, even if they weren't permanently bonded. Would that then translate to his bond with T'Pol? As much as he loved Malcolm, the idea was...unappealing.

"I don't understand," Malcolm said, his eyebrows scrunched together. "What's a mind meld?"

Of course he wouldn't know. Trip had forgotten that. And judging by the look on Jon's face, he had too. T'Pol, on the other hand, took it in stride.

"Vulcans have the ability to join their minds with other sentient life forms through touch. If you agree, we could share our thoughts," she said. "Even the thoughts you aren't able to access, I may be able to locate and examine."

"Share thoughts," Malcolm murmured. "How...what do you have to do?"

"I will touch my hand to your face and once you allow me to enter, I'll carefully probe into your mind. The only thing you'd be required to do is be relaxed and allow me in. I won't force it," she said emphatically. "I have been training my mind for years, so I believe I will be able to find away around the barriers that surround the damaged memories."

It sounded very complex to Trip. And potentially dangerous.

"Hang on a second," he interjected. "Are you sure you can do this without hurting yourself or him?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I would not have suggested it if I believed that," she said with a hint of annoyance. Trip had learned a long time ago that he shouldn't roll his eyes at her when she was being serious, but damn, he wanted to.

"Yeah, I got that. I just wanted to be sure. A mind meld is a serious thing."

Her chest expanded with the intent to speak, but Jon's voice interrupted her, probably because he wanted to head off an argument before it happened. "He's not kidding, Malcolm," he said, all his focus on his lover. "If you do this, you might end up accidentally showing more of your mind than you really wanted to. And you might end up seeing more of hers than you wanted to. She's not going to look at anything if she can help it, but melding isn't an exact science, for all the Vulcans wish it were."

T'Pol's eyebrows definitely rose at that, but she didn't dispute him.

"You need to be aware of that," he finished. Malcolm nodded again, slowly, his eyes ending up on Senara's face. Trip glanced at the young girl to see that she was gazing back at him and though he didn't know exactly what it was, he saw something pass between them. Nodding again, Malcolm took a deep breath and then turned back to Jon.

"And you're ok with this?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, I trust T'Pol. To get this right and with whatever she might discover," Jon replied. Which was all well and good for him, but Trip still felt uncomfortable. But if it was the only way...he would just have to get used to it.

"Then I will too," Malcolm said, before turning his eyes on T'Pol. "I want to know what happened to me."

"Very well. Before I start though, there is one last thing," she said. To Trip's surprise, he was the person she looked at next. "You must also agree, T'hy'la," she said softly. Her open use of the endearment shocked him. Never before had she called him that in front of others and he knew exactly how serious she was about this. It wasn't just her mind she was potentially exposing, it was his and she hadn't forgotten that. "If you are truly uncomfortable, we'll find another way."

Suddenly, Trip found himself the focus of five pairs of eyes. Yes, he was uncomfortable, but he knew he couldn't say no when faced with the prospect of knowing the truth, of allowing Malcolm and Jon to find peace. Nothing he felt could compare with how they'd felt for the last ten years. And really, Trip knew he'd do just about anything for his two best friends.

"No, you gotta do it," he said to her, wishing desperately they could link one last time so he could show her how much he meant that. "Just be careful, darlin'. I don't want your brains to scramble."

It was a weak joke, but Malcolm, at least, snorted. "Yes, please. I like my mind the way it is. More or less," he said. Jon glared Trip, who just shrugged back at him. It was a serious situation, yes, but Trip figured if they let it drag them down, they'd all go insane soon enough.

"I'll do my best to leave both our brains...unscrambled," T'Pol deadpanned, causing Trip to smile. "We can begin at any time."

Malcolm heaved a sigh. "Well, I wished for a way to get to know you all better instantly. Here it is." He stood. "How do we start?"

Standing herself, T'Pol dragged her chair to the center of the room, gesturing for Malcolm to do the same. "We can sit facing one another. You need to be relaxed, so it might help if we were alone, but it's not required."

"No," Malcolm said immediately. "That is...I'd rather Jon and Senara stayed at least."

It bugged Trip a little not to be included on the list, but he pushed the feeling aside. Somewhere, deep down, Malcolm still loved and needed him, he really believed that. They just needed time. T'Pol nodded.

"And I would prefer if Trip stayed," she confessed, another indication of how nervous she was about this. In response to that, Talin stood.

"I can leave, Master Reed, if you prefer," he offered, without a hint of offense. Malcolm shook his head.

"Oh no, I didn't mean that, Talin. I need you here to hold Senara up," he smiled. The young woman blushed.

"I'm not going to fall apart, Father," she chided him.

Malcolm grinned at her. "Well, fine then. He can stay because he's family."

And I'm not? Trip thought, grimacing at himself. This wasn't the time for jealousy. Later, after they cleared this all up, Trip was going to take Malcolm on some kind of excursion alone, maybe a weekend of fishing or the like. Something to do while they rebuilt their friendship.

"Alright." T'Pol and Malcolm sat, facing each other. "Jonathan, would you lower the illumination a few levels please?"

Jon moved to comply, setting the lights at their lowest setting, casting shadows over the furniture and their faces. It was how T'Pol felt most comfortable melding or meditating, in low light like that given by a few candles set around a room. She reached up and laid her fingers one by one on Malcolm's face, taking a moment to adjust and find the right pressure points to accomplish the meld.

"My mind to your mind," she murmured. "My thoughts to your thoughts."

Malcolm's eyes fluttered shut and he began to whisper with her tonelessly. "Our thoughts are one. Our minds are one."

Trip and Jon exchanged a tense glance, both obviously worried about their lover and friend. He looked back at T'Pol. Her eyes were also closed, but moving quickly, as if she was actively searching through Malcolm's mind like it was a PADD.

For long suspenseful moments, nothing happened. Both sat calmly, eyes firmly shut, bodies relaxed. And then T'Pol's face contorted and she let out a little cry. The effort to remain seated and not go to her drained Trip physically. He saw Jon's fists clench into tight balls, his mouth set in a firm thin line.

"I see the building," T'Pol muttered, her voice strained, deeper than usual. "Something's not right," she continued, raw emotion coloring her tone, worry, fear. "Those people...something's not right." Malcolm jerked back a little, causing T'Pol to surge forward, taking hold of his shoulder.

"Fear not, Malcolm," she whispered in her normal voice. "I am here. Jonathan is here."

He struggled a moment longer and then relaxed. Trip's heart thudded in his chest, his own fists clenching tightly. There was more silence as T'Pol reoriented herself and then, when she spoke next, it was with Malcolm's voice, his accent.

"I'm going to check out something, Jon," she drawled. "Stay here." Trip's skin crawled to hear it, to remember it. The last words any of them had heard Malcolm speak so long ago. Tearing his eyes from them, he looked at Jon. His friend's eyes were on the floor, the muscles in his face working to hold back his reaction to hearing the words again.

"Come back soon, Lieutenant," she continued, her accent American, her tone full of love and worry. Jon's head turned away and he stood, crossing his arms over his stomach, hiding his face from view. Trip swallowed hard.

"I am walking in the building." Her voice was once again strained, but it was her own voice as she described Malcolm's actions. "Following an Alearan man. I don't like the way he's moving, something not right about it." She cocked her head as if listening closely. "He doesn't see me. We are walking deeper into the building. My phase pistol..." Her free hand moved from Malcolm's shoulder to her waist. "I check it, ready to pull it at any moment."

Out of the corner of his eye, Trip saw Senara take Talin's hand, fear and anxiety written on her face. "Someone stops me to ask a question and I nearly lose the man. But I talk around her and catch up. I'm looking around a corner...he is...he's keying a code, entering a room, glancing around. He's nearly spotted me," she said, panicked, her breath catching. "Close call, Reed," she drawled in his voice. A little self-depreciating half-smile appeared on her face and she chuckled, sending a shiver up Trip's spine. "Jon'll kill you if you let them catch you sneaking around," she scolded herself. "Ruin this first contact and you won't get laid for at least a week."

Trip didn't know if he should shudder or laugh. He hadn't expected this, being able to actually hear Malcolm's thoughts. It was wrong, Trip wanted to say, wanted to shout. They should leave. But he couldn't. He couldn't move, could barely breathe as T'Pol continued.

"I'm walking down the hall, softly, quietly. No one in this part of the building, very fishy. I don't like this," she repeated. "No way to get into the room. I hunch down, examining the lock pad. It looks solid. I won't be able to get in on my own." She paused, eyes moving faster than ever under her delicate lids. "I need to know what's going on in this room."

Surprise lit up her features, her head turning almost completely to the right. "Someone's coming. I'm moving back to hide. A woman walks down the hall. She's carrying something. I can't quite see it. I chance moving my head." T'Pol gasped, abject horror blooming on her face. "It's a detonation device!"

Trip's heart sped up again, pounding painfully in his ears. Jon's head was bowed, his shoulders slumped. He'd come so close, so close. If he'd just turned and left then, he might have gotten out unscathed. The urge to say it, to try and somehow tell the Malcolm of ten years ago to leave, crawled inside Trip's heart and only by literally biting his tongue was he able to stop himself.

"I have to get inside the room, stop them," T'Pol continued. No! Trip thought, desperately. Oh god, Malcolm, why didn't you just leave?

"I walk back to the door, my mind working quickly. I think to call Jon on my communicator, but I hesitate. This moment of peace might be the only I have to find out more. If only I'd seen her hand more clearly, I'd have the code." And then her face fell, intense anger contorting her beautiful features. "Bloody fucking hell-" she started.

"Who are you?" Malcolm suddenly croaked, his voice rough, dark, startling Trip into jumping in his seat. Jon spun around and stared at him, shocked and sick, looking like he was going to vomit at any moment. Swaying as he was, Trip began to fear he'd fall and without thought, he left his chair and went to him, guiding him back to his own seat. Kneeling beside him, Trip took his hand and squeezed, silently telling him to pour his fear and torment into the grip.

"I'd like to ask you the same thing," T'Pol responded venomously. "What's going on here?"

Malcolm's mouth twisted into a wicked grin. "You've chosen your day to die, outsider," he snarled. Jon's hand tightened painfully around Trip's. He was living this, right here before Trip's eyes, living those last few terrifying moments before Malcolm had been lost to them.

"He's tall," T'Pol described. "Dark hair, dark eyes. They're cold and filled with hate." She shook her head. "I've never seen him before. He's walking towards me, must have snuck up on me when I was examining the lock. Damn it, why did I let my mind wander? Stupid, fucking idiot. I reach for my phase pistol, but..."

"Don't," Malcolm growled. "I'm afraid you've seen too much." Something about the way his mouth moved around the words made Trip realize that Malcolm was speaking Alearan and it was being automatically translated by their UTs.

"He has a weapon," T'Pol said. "A knife. Long blade, very sharp. But I could probably pull my pistol before he reached me. I tense, preparing to grab my pistol."

But she didn't continue, cocking her head again, seeming almost confused. "I can't...I've lost the thread," she said as herself, frustrated. Resuming her grip on Malcolm's shoulder, she leaned into him, intensity radiating off her body. "This memory eludes..." Deep breaths stirred her chest. "The door! I hear it. And then..." She winced, crying out in such realistic pain that Trip gasped and stood. Jon's hold on his hand stopped him from going any further though, and when he looked down at his friend, panicked, Jon shook his head in sympathy. It hurt to kneel again, but he did, biting at the inside of his mouth in agony.

"Everything is dark," she whimpered. "Hurts so much. Oh god, what happened?" Her voice switched seamlessly back to Malcolm's. "Jon," she sobbed, sudden tears streaking down her face. "Oh god, Jon, it hurts so much. Where are you?"

Jon released Trip's hand to cover his mouth, his own eyes overflowing.

"Can't stay awake. Where...Jon...." T'Pol relaxed again, the tears stopping though they continued to drip off the side of her face and onto her shirt. Through it all, Malcolm remained calm, hardly moving as T'Pol manipulated his memories, experiencing them as her own. "I wake up again. Several times." Flinching, she stopped speaking for a moment.

"The same," she finally said. "I wake up to the same emotion time and again."

Even Malcolm, the bravest man Trip had ever known, must have been terrified and confused. Waking up disoriented, in pain, unable to keep awake long enough to find out what had happened to himself, his crew, his lover. Sick fear knotted in Trip's stomach.

"Voices. Alearan voices." Confusion and fear fought for domination on her face. "I can't understand them. My translator." She reached for her own UT, her fingers brushing over the smooth metal. "It's not here." The hand moved to her waist. "Nor my phase pistol. I open my eyes and turn to the voices."

"About time you woke up, you heartless outlander," Malcolm spit with a cruel laugh. Trip didn't understand the description, but could tell by how Senara gasped and Talin sat forward, angry, that it must be a serious insult for Alearans. "Thought you'd died," he taunted. "Except you kept calling for 'Jon'. Calling for your father perhaps?" Another hateful laugh. "Coward."

Hot anger filled Trip. Bastards. He hoped sincerely they'd all been destroyed by Matein and his people.

"I can't understand them," T'Pol despaired again. "They said Jon. Oh god, what's happened to Jon? My head hurts so badly. Can't really see straight. Vision is blurry. Can barely make out two men and flickering light. A fire? I think..." She shifted. "I think its outside. Hard ground, grass, leaves..."

"Keep quiet," Malcolm said.

"He's coming over." T'Pol struggled against an unseen force, nearly pulling her hand off Malcolm's face. "He's bending over me. I can't move, trying to move, come on, Reed, Move!"

Jon lowered a shaky hand into Trip's again, gripping hard. "I said keep quiet!" Malcolm yelled. T'Pol's head snapped back. Seconds ticked by, Jon's hand feeling slick in Trip's. For the first time, T'Pol's eyes opened and she stared at Malcolm.
"Darkness. It's...night. A feeling, a wisp of something...a name. I should be...where?" she asked, looking almost as if she were asking Malcolm. "I can't..."

Her eyes fell shut once more. "It's gone. I lay on the ground. So tired. My head pounds. I move." She winced. "Going to throw up." Clutching her stomach, T'Pol nearly gagged. "There's a voice to my right. I don't recognize the words."

"Are you stupid?" Malcolm hissed quietly. "If he saw anything, he should be killed."
"They sound angry," T'Pol commented, detached.

"But Master," Malcolm pleaded. "He could be useful. If you save a hostage, think how pleased everyone would be? Idiot," Malcolm continued in the first harsh voice. Trip's mind whirled. This was becoming confusing. "I'm not the one who stands to look good in this. What do I care if a bunch of Capsin fools respect me. Kill him immediately."

"I feel fear building," T'Pol jumped in immediately. "They must be talking about me. The angry one looks at me. His eyes...so cold, black."

"Destroy the body," Malcolm said. Inhuman glee shining in his smile, Malcolm reached out for the first time and grabbed T'Pol's shoulders. "His death will help our cause. Matein's publicizing this...meeting," Sarcasm twisted the word. "As some kind of Alearan salvation. If one of them dies, people will take our threat more seriously. And Matein will have to crush our revolt more harshly."

"He is walking closer to me. I almost feel like...I should know him?" T'Pol sounded genuinely confused. "His face is marked, a long ugly scar on his cheek."

A heartbeat, and then comprehension set in, sparking anger deep in Trip's gut. Jon scooted so far to the edge of his chair, he nearly fell off. He looked at Trip, livid and Trip knew they were thinking the exact same thing.

Teilani. The governor of Trueain who'd been walking free for ten years. He'd ordered Malcolm's execution. Trip felt as if his anger would eat him alive, break him into pieces.

"Everything will work out in the end," Malcolm grinned.

"He is leaving," T'Pol continued. "But the other man. He watches me for a long time. The other is gone. Time has passed. He looks unsure, but then he finally comes closer, holding out a knife. It hurts to move, but I must. He intends to kill me, I know it. I wait." Breathless, she tensed her body. "He is right above me, speaking, but I don't hear his words. Just a second longer." Her leg twitched violently. "I kick out and he falls to the ground, surprised. But not for long. He is on me." Flinching again, she grabbed her side. "His knife cuts my side. My hands are bound, I can't use them. I use my shoulder, push him off me, but his knife hits again." Pain filled her face. "Warmth on my side. Blood. He falls on me, stabbing, but I kick. The knife..." She smiles, relieved. "I kick the knife away. We are fighting with our bodies. I fall on him, locking my legs around his waist. Scrambling for the knife. Too much motion. I can't tell what's happening. He hits me with fists. My chest hurts. Bones break."

The images filled Trip's mind. He could see Malcolm and the man grappling with each other, Malcolm using his body and training to keep the man from getting his knife back. Beside him, Jon stared at T'Pol, breathing harshly.

"He rolls out from under me. Going for the knife. I manage to stand and kick him before he reaches it. He falls groaning and I kick him again, moving around. Can't think, don't know how I know, but I know. I kick him in the head. He falls back moaning and I kick his chest." She looked sick, and yet Trip could see a hint of triumph there as well. "He gasps and clutches his chest. I think...blood pours out of his mouth. Oh god, so much blood. He's...dying. There's too much blood."

Pain crossed her face, reminding Trip once again that, despite the fact that Malcolm's job had called upon him to kill before, it was not easy for the man. Ending a life, even one intent on ending his, pierced him deeply.

"I can't watch. I go to the knife. It takes a moment and I know I'm cutting my arms all to hell, but I have to get this rope off my hands. I hear him gasping. Oh god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she said sorrowfully. "The rope fall off my hands finally and I take the knife. I start to run, but...he is reaching for me. So much pain on his face, agony. He struggles to talk, can't understand it. But I know what he's asking. I shut my eyes. I'm sorry, I say."

Malcolm's eyes flew open, his mouth moving soundlessly for half a second. "I killed him," he whispered. "I plunged the knife into his heart."

"Malcolm," Jon murmured. "Love..."

"You had to," T'Pol said with sympathy, finally removing her hand from Malcolm's face. The words were barely out of her mouth before he fell forward, into her arms, shaking.

"Oh god. Oh god..."

This time, nothing would stop Jon from leaping from his chair and falling to Malcolm's side. T'Pol very gently maneuvered Malcolm into Jon's arms, raw emotions Trip could tell were all her own in her eyes as she looked to him. He walked to her side and squeezed her shoulder.

"You did great, sweetheart," he murmured. She leaned into his touch, nodding, reaching up to touch his hand, allowing him to help her deal with the strong feelings coursing though her veins. Her own and Malcolm's, twirling together into a mass of pain and guilt.

"Malcolm." Jon muttered something into Malcolm's ear, something Trip couldn't hear, didn't need to hear and the shaking slowly subsided. He looked away, not wanting to intrude on this moment anymore than he already was and his eyes settled on Senara, sobbing into Talin's shoulder. Talin gave Trip a significant look and stood, dragging Senara up with him. Trip understood immediately.

"Come on, T'Pol. Let's just...clear out for a minute." Senara and Talin walked into the bedroom while Trip and T'Pol moved onto the balcony, leaving Jon and Malcolm to deal with the aftermath of remembering together alone.

"Trip." She threw herself into his arms. "He was so scared. So...guilty. It's not logical," she said, as if that could explain away his behavior. Trip rubbed her back.

"I know. But it's Malcolm." He kissed her head. "I'm so proud of you."

"We have to tell the Chancellor," she said, overlooking his comment. "Teilani must be brought to justice immediately." She turned as if to walk back into the study, but Trip grabbed her arm.

"We will. Trust me. Jon's not going to wait long." Through the glass, he could see that Jon and Malcolm were now looking at each other, Malcolm nodding hesitantly as Jon spoke to him. "Just give them a moment. It can't be easy remembering all that."

Trip had a feeling that the memory of killing the nameless Alearan man was merely the catalyst of Malcolm's collapse.

Leaning into him again, she relaxed slightly. "I do not understand all of what he said, Trip," she mused. "When Teilani said someone was going to look good from this." She lifted her head. "Someone else was involved."

Trip thought hard about it. "It's possible. We'll find out. If we have to hold Teilani down and beat it out of him, we'll find out." The thought gave him no small amount of savage pleasure.

"I don't condone violence," she said, but Trip could hear the unspoken word.

"But?"

She drew a deep breath. "But if he were here, I'd torture him for information myself."

Looking back through the glass where Jon was now holding Malcolm close, his hands smoothing down his lover's back again and again, Trip knew exactly how she felt.

*********************************************

Part Thirteen

Comments

[tookish-girl.livejournal.com]

holy crap! that was one awesome mind meld. i was pulling my hair and bouncing in my seat just beta'ing this thing! thank you so much for keeping this story going!
~sarah

[cloudy-fic.livejournal.com]

I love when you get like that. Especially when you laugh so hard you pee a little. Ah, good times. Thanks! *hugs*

Jenn