Future Shock

"You're suicidal."

"No I'm not."

"Are too."

"Am not. I'm not the one who tried to crawl into an airlock."

"And I'm not the one who disconnected his air hose."

"That was different. And I'm not the one who volunteered to take a Xindi ship on a one way mission."

"I didn't go, Jon did. And I'm not the one who almost boiled to death because he ignored orders."

Malcolm looked sideways at Trip. "That was different too." He took a sip of his water, wishing it was something stronger. But he couldn't afford anything stronger—they were still making repairs, working around the clock while racing toward the Xindi council. Besides, considering the captain's emotional state, and shockingly, T'Pol's, it wouldn't do for him to be in anything less than full control right now. And Trip looked like he'd been through the wringer as well. His friend was exhausted, yet seemed a little more centered than he had been lately. Maybe he'd found some peace of mind. Or maybe it had something to do with knowing that he and T'Pol had married and had a child.

The thought left Malcolm depressed. Again. Destined to end up alone. Responsible for the end of the proud Reed line, his sister traditional enough to take the last name of whomever she would marry. If she did. And if she had children.

He had seen the future and it looked bleak.

Trip sat down next to him and took a taste of his coffee. He made a face. "Damn. It's still too weak. Stupid dispenser is still screwed up."

Malcolm shrugged. Tepid water wasn't that great, but that's all he could coax out of it. Phlox had told him he was still slightly dehydrated, admonishing him to drink plenty of fluids and had forbidden him anything with caffeine. Which left him trying to stay awake on adrenaline and sheer stubbornness.

"I died when Lorian was 14," Trip said softly. "That's a hard age for a boy, 'specially without a father."

"I died before that. Never even made it to forty. Never married. Never was with anyone. Never had children. Left nothing."

Malcolm leaned his head back against the bulkhead and closed his eyes. He hated the pathetic tone, but he couldn't help it. Might as well have "Loser" tattooed on his forehead.

The silence stretched for several minutes and Malcolm finally opened his eyes. He was surprised that Trip was still there, just staring at him.

"What?"

"How'd you die?"

"I couldn't bring myself to look." Malcolm dredged up a small wry grin. "No doubt doing something suicidal, Commander."

Trip laughed and Malcolm smiled without effort this time.

"I died in a stupid engineering accident. Nothing heroic. No reason. Just—poof—goodbye Charles Tucker the Third."

Malcolm didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Trip." It wasn't much, but Trip nodded and shrugged one shoulder.

"Doesn't mean it's gonna happen. Hell, we've changed everything already—we made it through the corridor. I figure those people don't even exist now. I mean, how can they? History didn't repeat itself."

"Time travel makes my head hurt."

Trip chuckled. "Mine too."

The silence was comfortable, though shorter this time, before Trip broke it.

"I don't even know why I'd marry her. I mean, I like her—as a colleague, you understand. Maybe we could be close friends—but…" Trip trailed off.

Malcolm waited, but Trip didn't seem like he was going to continue.

"But?"

Trip looked at him, then looked down at his coffee. "But—she's not…I mean, we've done…she's…" Trip exhaled and continued in a low voice, "I don't think I could ever love her. You have to love someone an awful lot to marry them. And she could never love me fully. I couldn't be content with that…"

"People can grow to love someone. Better than ending up alone. "

Trip shook his head. "I don't want a marriage of convenience—doing my part to increase the population of a generational ship. Married to someone because you're the best choice 'cause they're familiar with you and can tolerate you better than anyone else on board."

"Maybe you two did love each other—I mean, you've…" Malcolm raised his eyebrows and waggled his fingers, feeling too awkward to come out and say something so bluntly to his friend's face.

Trip snorted. "She said I was an experiment in sexuality. And she just told me that again when I was talking to her about what happened on the other ship. I don't know about you, but that doesn't make me feel real good."

Malcolm could empathize with that. He touched his glass to Trip's mug. "To suicidal losers—unlucky in life and in love."

Trip chuckled and clinked his mug against Mal's glass. "I'll drink to that."

They both took a drink of their beverage, and Malcolm settled back against the bulkhead, stifling a yawn.

"Tired?" Trip asked, concern on his face.

"No more than you."

"Phlox made me sleep for a couple of hours. And I didn't almost get steamed alive in my EV suit…when's the last time you had a chance to sleep?"

Malcolm waved the question away. "I assure you, I got adequate rest in sickbay—"

"That was a couple of hours over a day ago. Damn it, Malcolm! You could have died! What the hell were you thinking?"

Malcolm was taken aback by Trip's vehemence.

"I was thinking that we had less than six minutes to get that stream shut down before the whole ship blew apart. Given the choice between sweating a bit and everyone dying and our mission failing, I took the most logical course of action."

"God, you sound like her. Logic. She said it was logical to marry and have children to insure our mission would succeed. Nothing about how she felt about me. How I would feel." Trip leaned back against the bulkhead again, shoulder touching Malcolm's. "Nothing about love."

"You argue like lovers," Malcolm said, teasing. He was grateful to see that Trip had taken it the way it was intended when the engineer smiled.

"Nah. She doesn't piss me off the way someone you love does. I don't feel bad when I win an argument with her, like I want to make it up to her for being right and winning. It doesn't bother me when she's gets all high and mighty and won't talk to me. And when we do talk, sometimes I feel like I gotta keep blabbing away—there's no lulls in the conversation, where you're just content to be sittin' there, quiet, together. I don't hurt when she's hurt. Course I'm concerned about her—but that's like a friend—it's not that heart thumping terror you feel when someone you love is threatened, you know?"

Trip shifted and looked at Malcolm with an intensity in his tired eyes that Malcolm had rarely seen.

"If she died, I'd be sad. I'd even cry I think, yet I could go on. But…I realized…on the hull, if you had died, I would have been devastated."

Malcolm was speechless.

Trip took advantage of that. He leaned in to Malcolm and gently brushed his lips against his. Malcolm surprised himself by responding automatically, ripples of shock, nerves, disbelief, and pleasure all churning together.

Trip backed off and placed one hand on the side of Malcolm's head, fingers running through his hair. "You've stood by me through everything, Malcolm. Pushing me to talk about Lizzie when I didn't want to and letting me bite your head off, or just sitting there with me, not talking and acceptin' that. Taking all my garbage I'd throw at you, and giving it back as good as you got. You piss me off like no one else can, but there's something all mixed up with it—I can't stay mad at you and I'll do just about anything to make sure you don't stay mad at me. When I hurt, I know you hurt. I saw that in Florida. And when you hurt, it's like pieces of me bein' cut out. It hurts."

Malcolm felt a little dazed. "What…what are you saying, Trip? That you…that you…" He couldn't finish, couldn't believe it—it was too outlandish, too unbelievable.

Too good to be true.

"I'm saying that history doesn't have to repeat itself. You don't have to end up alone. And I think I can find love…if you're willing to give this a try."

Malcolm felt his mouth stretch into a wide smile and leaned over, kissing Trip firmly this time.

He could see the future, and it looked bright.