The First Years: First House

Codes: A/T'P. Living through bad times and good times.

Rating: PG-13.

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Summary: T’Pol discovers the depth of their connection as Archer recovers.

A/N: Last chapter, the dream, was meant to be a deleted scene. I did have an inspiration, so look out for a reference to it later in the second part of this chapter. Most of this chapter owes something to a conversation I had with a reviewer, SHAMALAMADINGDONG. Thanks! Many, many apologies for the lateness of this. If there are any glaring errors, let me know.

oooooooooo

Ceti Alpha desert, day of rescue.

Even as he eagerly drank water from the stream, she knew something was wrong. Hours passed and the sensation grew. When he spoke, she knew he felt it too.

“Have I ever thanked you for being my first officer?” his hoarse voice cracked from the strain of speaking.

She smoothed his wet hair away from his forehead. Moisture gathered in her eyes. Pain constricted her throat. She choked out the words, “Yes, you have.”

“And for being my friend?” he whispered.

His green eyes stared up at her. The full silver sphere of the moon reflected in his pupils. His chest struggled to rise and fall with each wheezing breath. Numbness thankfully replaced the pain hours ago. Perhaps that is what gave them both the feeling that the end was coming. His body shut down to the point that even his pain stopped.

“You have thanked me for that as well several times,” she whispered.

“I can’t thank you enough for being in my life and all that you’ve done for me.” He tried to smile to take the sadness from the words. All he could manage was to turn up the corners of his lips.

A tear broke free from her left eye and dropped down onto his forehead. She wiped it away with her fingertips.

“You don’t have to say anything T’Pol. Just be here with me.” He blinked as if he were crying. No tears fell from his eyes.

“There is no need to thank me. You accepted me as your first officer, and you showed me friendship. I have been fortunate to know you. You are more than my friend. You are my -”

He closed his eyes and fell limp in her arms. She frantically called out his name. She shook his shoulders causing his hands to splash in the shallow water.

Breathing in, she became aware of the aching pain in her lungs. Nearly sixty years ago, a Vulcan girl cloaked in robes of mourning felt the same sensation. She snuck out into the night to perform her ritual one last time. Her face upturned to the stars, she located the last star her father visited, the one his scattered atoms now orbited. Then as now, an emotion, raw and powerful overwhelmed her logic and intensified with each breath- grief. She felt empty as if something was ripped from her leaving her body hollow, and she ached for his return.

Logic kicked in restoring order. Her hand went to his neck. A faint pulse thumped against her fingers.

Her hands gently cupped his cool skin. Fear, sadness, resignation, and acceptance washed over her. His life was fading, and he was prepared to die. She wasn’t prepared to let him. Reaching out to his presence, she searched for him. Emotions continued to bombard her blocking her way.

Between them she sensed a connection. Once she found it, she focused on strengthening it. She held fast to the connection and pulled herself along it moving against the strong current of his emotions that threatened to push her out of his mind.

“Can you hear me?” she asked.

What felt like hours of silence passed. A distant voice responded, “Yes.”

Relief spread through her. “Please do what I ask of you.”

She explained to him the steps in entering a healing trance. Across their link, she sent him her strength. Jonathan tried and failed several times before he entered the trance successfully.

T’Pol dropped her hands from his face. She looked down at his head resting in her lap. Tension slowly drained from his face leaving a look of peace behind. His labored breathing began to even out. His eyes steadily moved back and forth underneath his closed lids.

She understood she'd only delayed the inevitable. A Vulcan child trained the body to heal itself. Jonathan lacked that knowledge. The trance may have gained him a few more hours.

T’Pol realized he didn't have to know because she did. Closing her eyes, she reached out with her senses to her surroundings. A breeze cooled her skin and tossed about strands of her hair. The sound of water trickling over and around rocks and fireflies buzzing around them reached her ears. She smelled water, sweat, Jonathan, herself, and nearby plant life. She tasted the moisture in the air combined with the taste of the salt of sweat on her lips.

Opening her eyes, she absorbed the scene around her. If not for the circumstances, she would consider it beautiful. Millions of flickering lights painted the black dome of the night sky. Clusters of blue firefly eggs lit the streambed, and their older brethren lazily flew around them. Moonlight reflected off the swirling eddies in the water.

She was now ready. Throughout her body existed a sense of balance and peace achieved by awareness of the world around her. She stood cradling him in her arms and walked a few feet to the stream bank. She sat again on the dry rock laying his head back down on her lap. Her hands moved again to cup his chin. Her eyelids became heavy and closed.

She reached out to their link again sending the healing energy he needed to him. He would not die today. As he would say, she was too stubborn to let him.

Present day.
T’Pol watched the man sleeping in the biobed across from her chair. He couldn't remember any of their days together. A glimmer of hope still lay inside her hoping that someday he would remember. It remained despite logic dictating she let go of something as illogical as hope. Some days she indulged in something else illogical. She envied him. He couldn't remember all the things she wished she could forget.

Sitting in lotus position on the cold hospital floor, T'Pol entered a meditative state. The memory retreated back into the recesses of her mind. A temporary solution. The memory always came back again when she thought about their past or their future.

oooooooooooo

Blinking her vision clear, T’Pol froze looking out at the room around her. She lay on her right side in a bed with a cream colored sheet covering her pajama clad body. Her surroundings told her a few things. The colors, materials, and architecture said she was inside a Vulcan home. Light streaming through a window caught her eye. The long, slender window revealed the orange cast of the morning sky and the spires of Vulcan buildings in the distance confirming her suspicion.

Turning over onto her back, she further examined her surroundings. She blinked in disbelief. Standing up, she crossed over to a shelf on the other side of the room. On it laid rocks and crystals neatly arranged. She picked up a clump of crystals radiating out from a common center. The hourglass shaped sand within each of the clear crystals reminded her of time spent digging through the crust of a salt plain with her mother. She walked through her sparsely decorated room towards the door.

A knock came from the door. Before she could answer it, the door opened.

“T’Pol,” Jonathan whispered.

“I am awake. You may come in,” she stoically informed him. She immediately noticed when he walked through the door his body showed none of the after effects of days spent in the desert. Her eyebrows crept up high on her forehead.

He walked comfortable into his room like he was a frequent visitor. Guiding her back to her bed, he motioned for her to sit. He pulled a chair over to her bedside and sat down.

“I know this must be confusing to you. I’ll try to help you sort your memories out. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was in a hospital… in the colony. You were recovering from dehydration.”

“This may be difficult to believe. But that never happened. Earth was not destroyed, and Enterprise never guided a convoy to colonize Ceti Alpha 5. Do you remember the anomaly that hit the corridor we were walking in?”

“Yes. A fallen support beam pinned my leg. You lifted it and freed me. The anomaly hit you before I could pull you out of its path.”

“The support beam didn’t fall on you. It fell on me. The anomaly hit you before I could pull you to safety,” he delivered the news calmly like he’d told her the same thing many times. Something else surprised her. A slight Vulcan accent crept into his speaking now and then.

T’Pol’s eyebrow’s pinched together. “I remember the events since the accident vividly.”

Jonathan looked down and regained his composure. When his eyes returned to hers, she could see the pain he tried to hide. “Whose thoughts do you remember? Are they your own or someone else’s?”

The answer surprised T’Pol. It always did. “Up until I induced your healing trance, I do not remember my own thoughts. I saw through your eyes, heard your thoughts, and felt your emotions. After I strengthened our connection, I began to see and feel through myself as well as you.”

“I can imagine you’re glad to get out of my mind for a change,” Jonathan smiled.

T’Pol didn’t respond.

“The anomaly left parasites behind in your brain. I know those memories seem real, but the way Phlox explained it to me, these parasites sort of jumble up your memories. The parasites also affect the center of your dreams and imagination. Your mind takes the jumbled up memories of what happens each day and creates a story in your head to connect the dots. He also thinks your dreams become a part of your reality.”

T’Pol looked at him not believing what she heard.

“I know it sounds ludicrous. I didn’t believe it at first until I saw you after the acciden. You believed that it had happened to me.”

T’Pol started to question her life with Jonathan on Ceti Alpha 5. “What happened after the accident?”

“Phlox identified your condition. He found that the parasites were genetically engineered to disrupt memory. For months he searched for a cure and tried different therapies..."

Jonathan sighed, remembering. T'Pol knew what he felt. She'd been through the endless cycle of rising and falling hope.

"I was determined to find a way that you could still contribute to the success of our mission. It was tough at first, but I found a way. I woke up early each morning and told you what really happened. I had the logs to back up my ‘highly illogical’ story, and I showed a few of those to you as proof. I couldn’t have completed the mission without you. You helped me form an alliance with Degra.”

T’Pol wondered who this Degra she’d never heard of was.

“You found a way to disable the weapon and a way out of the Expanse. Enterprise was badly damaged during the final Xindi defense of the weapon. It took us a year to limp back to Earth. Now, Enterprise is undergoing a six-month overhaul. With the help of a Vulcan ship, I brought you back here to the Vulcan Science Academy to see if the doctors can find a cure.”

“I see.” She didn’t fully see what he was trying to explain to her.

Jonathan took her hand between his and gently rubbed it. “I know this must be a lot to take in. You’ve been on Vulcan for almost four months. We’ve taken you to healers and scientists who have tried to treat your condition.” Looking down at his hands, he realized what he was doing and set her right hand back down. “So far, we’ve had no success.”

T’Pol nodded. She thought of someone who was missing. “Where is my mother?”

“She’s teaching her classes right now.” Jonathan looked away and tried to hide a frown.

“You are holding something back about my mother.”

He looked back at her. “You read me well. T’Les has opened her house to both of us. When we aren’t here or traveling by shuttle to another hospital or monastery, we stay in her home. She’s treated me with hospitality I didn’t expect… But we disagree about what is best for you. She thinks it is logical to move you permanently into a medical institution. She thinks you would get better care and that the healers could study,” he said study with distaste, “your condition it in order to develop a form of treatment. It could be years before a treatment is developed. You would spend day after day in a place like that. I don’t want you to live that way.”

“My mother’s logic is sound.”

He softly laughed, “I know it is T’Pol. You have to understand, I have the illogical need to ensure you have the best quality of life you possibly can. Living permanently in a medical facility doesn’t sound like much of a life to me.”

“I do not remember my quality of life for more than a day, therefore it does not matter.” Her words stunned her. She remembered Jonathan telling her something very similar before she brought him to Ceti Alpha 5. Now she understood his position better.

“It does to me T’Pol. You do remember in your own way. In your memories, I will probably be the one living in the medical facility, or whatever the parasites twist the place into. You will think of me being in there, like I will think of you.”

Jonathan stared out the window and thought.

“We won’t have to worry about that until Enterprise nears completion. I’m spending the rest of my leave here with you. Your mother and I will work out our differences before then and decide what to do.”

T’Pol thought back to a memory of deciding what was best for Jonathan, life on Enterprise or the colony. “If you had your choice what would you do?”

Jonathan looked in her eyes for a few moments then admitted, “I don’t know. I’m certain that I can’t let you live alone in a medical facility indefinitely. Who would explain to you each day what happened? Would you believe what a stranger tells you? What would you do every day other than walk around a hospital and meditate? At the same time, I wonder if it is the only thing to do. I will be returning to Enterprise in a few months,” his voice turned softer and betrayed his emotions, “If you aren’t well by then, I can’t take you with me back to Enterprise.”

Jonathan looked visibly upset at the prospect of her not going with him. He took a deep breath and quickly changed the subject, “We can talk about this again later if you like. Right now, we both need to get some breakfast.”


oooooooooooo

“Take slow steps.”

Jonathan’s right hand gripped the metal cane with white knuckles as he stood up. His left hand unconsciously squeezed T’Pol’s right. He took a step forward. Pausing, he closed his eyes then inhaled and took the next step.

Sensations flowed from his hand to hers. T’Pol gasped from the pain she shared with him. Since inducing his healing trance, the emotions and sensations coming from him when they touched were amplified. She also felt more in tune with his emotional states when they weren’t touching. She feared what this might mean.

Jonathan’s bony fingers gripped hers hard. During their time in the desert, he’d lost almost 20 lbs. T’Pol was surprised by the figure. She thought he lost more weight than that. His body consumed his muscles and fat leaving behind the gaunt frame standing beside her.

Beneath his physical weakness, T’Pol saw strength in him that she admired. Each day he fought through the pain of walking and physical therapy exercises. His determination didn’t amaze her. It was one of his traits that she’d admired over the years that she’d known him.

“You have shown much improvement in your walking.” He’d come a long way. Seven days ago he was too weak to walk. He no longer lost his balance or wobbled on unsteady legs.

“Phlox told me this morning that I could be let go this week if I continue to have good progress.”

“Yes, he informed me as well.”

T’Pol leaned close to him steadying his left arm as he sat down in his wheelchair. In her nearness to him, she smelled his scent. The smell was not the familiar one of him. Not the smell of aftershave and the musky cologne she smelled when he leaned over her station to talk to her. Nor the fresh, clean scent of his soap underlying it. Underneath the bland smell of hospital soap was a scent humans could not detect. A scent that was unique as a fingerprint for each human she met. The familiar scent reassured her that some things remained the same.

She realized that she'd been staring at him and reluctantly dropped his arm.

“Where will we go after I’m released?”

This was one conversation T’Pol wasn't ready for. "We will return to Enterprise."

Jonathan looked at her, his brows knitted in confusion. "Why? You told me this morning that we left Enterprise so we could both live here in the colony. What changed your mind?"

"If we stay here, both our lives could be at risk."

Realization washed over his face. "You feel some responsibility for what happened in the desert?"

"Yes," she admitted in a low voice. How did he come to that conclusion from what she said? T'Pol watched him reading her facial expressions and remembered the years of experience he had in deciphering her emotions from subtle cues.

She admitted to herself she felt partially responsible for what happened. The man who sabotaged their shuttle did so because of command decisions she made. Jonathan almost died because he was trying to punish her. Other people in the colony may hold similar contempt for her and her decisions. If they stayed in the colony, other people might try to attack her and Jonathan. They must return to Enterprise.

Jonathan reached out to cup her forearms. "T'Pol, you shouldn't blame yourself. People like him want someone to punish for the deaths of their loved ones. If it wasn’t you, he would have targeted someone else."

“My decision to leave Enterprise put both of us in danger. It is only logical for us to live in a safer place.”

Jonathan sighed. He knew she felt guilty because he almost died, just like she felt guilty about the anomaly striking him instead of her.

“You couldn’t have known that this would happen. And you don’t know what will happen for certain in the future.”

"We should continue this conversation later. If we are going to attend the first planting, we must leave now."

With that T’Pol pushed Jonathan’s wheel chair over to the nearest hydroponics greenhouse.

After her return from the desert, T’Pol’s involvement in the greenhouse project changed. Before their trip to the desert, She began corresponding with the botanists and scientists about sand culture of plants. One day, after their return, she was invited to visit the greenhouse.

During Jonathan’s recovery, she made frequent trips to the greenhouse and discussed and demonstrated her ideas in person. Previous encounters with Vulcan scientists taught some of the scientists not from Enterprise to expect their ideas to be looked down upon or taken lightly because they were human. Any tension between T’Pol and those scientists slowly diminished when they began to realize she saw them as equals. The end result of their collaboration was a hydroponics garden that utilized the best of human and Vulcan methods.

Jonathan wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d never seen a large-scale hydroponics greenhouse before. The greenhouse itself rose over a story above the ground. The graceful arch of flexi-glass and metal framework intensified the glare of morning sunlight. Inside the building, large containers designed for food transport were cut in half and filled with sand. Tubes ran into and out of each container. The tubes connected to other sealed containers and vats along the walls of the greenhouse.

T’Pol told him this morning that many of the colonists would be participating in the first planting. Many was an understatement. People in plain clothes or Starfleet uniforms were squished between the planting rows. Almost everyone looked up when T’Pol and Jonathan entered. Some waved or nodded and went back to work. Others said hello warmly. The guarded looks and hostility from a few faces bothered Jonathan.

A woman wheeled herself over to them in her wheelchair. “T’Pol. Archer. I’m glad you could make it. Let me get you both some seeds.” She passed by them and headed for a nearby table with tools and flats full of sprouting seedlings.

“Here. This should be enough for both of you. Come with me. These can be planted in the bed I’m planting in.”

Tyler introduced them to the rest of the group around the planting bed. All were scientists that seemed to be familiar with T'Pol except for an old woman and her granddaughter.

Nella Morales shook his hand firmly and nodded her head in T'Pol's direction when introduced. Her hand came to rest on the girl's shoulder. The movement caused her long silver hair to shift on her back. Jonathan recognized a slight Vega colony accent when she spoke, "Terra has told me a lot about both of you. She was quite fond of your stories Mr. Archer."

Terra, who couldn't be more than seven years old, shared some of the old woman's characteristics - eyes of mahogany, bronzed complexion, and a wide, generous smile. A head full of long wild curls matched the color of her eyes.

"Can you tell me again about the alien who wrapped you up in its tentacles?"

Jonathan smiled, "I'd love to. Maybe I can tell you more stories when I feel better."

Terra's eyes widened, "You could come to our house. I'll show you my model collection!"

"Sure. If it's okay with your grandmother?"

"It is. You're welcome to come over any time and enjoy tea with us."

"Thank you." Jonathan looked at T'Pol. She didn't show any reaction to him making plans.

Conversations sprung up among their group now and then while they planted the seedlings into the sand. Tomatoes were the only plants in this bed. Other beds hosted lettuce, radishes, cucumbers, and other fruits and vegetable plants germinated from seeds gathered from hydroponics bays and cargo on different ships.

People stayed after the planting and clean up were finished to talk. The words that strangers came up to say to T'Pol and Jonathan were along similar lines.

"I wanted to tell you that that man didn't reflect the opinions of the people in this colony." Almost all the people who said that called him 'that man' as if saying his name would cause more pain.

Then there were the people T’Pol had never seen before who said, "I heard what happened to you. Are you both alright?"

The most unexpected comments were the ones like, "If you need a place to stay, there is a place for you on my cargo ship. I'm sure my crew wouldn't have a problem with it."

Jonathan wondered how many of those comments were more than just gestures.

Later back at the hospital he asked, "How many of those people who talked to us today have spoken to us before?"

T'Pol sipped from her glass of water. Jonathan noticed it was her fifth glass today. He didn't bring it up. She might just be rehyrdrating like him.

"Ten."

"I thought as much. Behind the smiles I could see guilt in some of their faces."

"Why would they feel guilty?"

"Sometimes people who aren't responsible for something feel guilty. Maybe because they feel responsible for not seeing the signs and preventing what happened," he looked at T'Pol pointedly and continued, "Or they might have felt their own hatred towards you and what happened made them look at themselves." Then there was the possibility that a person didn't want to look bad in front of others, so they played nice to a person they hate. Jonathan didn't mention that.

"I see. Those are probable explanations." T'Pol walked over to the lone desk in the ward and powered up the computer.

"T'Pol, I think we should have that talk." While I still remember what we need to talk about, he silently added.

"Very well." She took her seat again in the chair by his bedside.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself this afternoon." She raised an eyebrow. He half-smiled and continued, "Enjoy isn't the right word. I was lost when you talked with the other scientists about water filtration and nutrient enrichment, but I could tell that you were in your element. You've found a job you want to do and you've made colleagues. I think you want this colony to succeed as much as anyone else."

"A fairly accurate assessment. I find discussions with fellow scientists stimulating. My position in the project has been fulfilling. I do want the colony to succeed. To want it not to succeed would be illogical."

Jonathan's smile widened. The T'Pol sitting before him seemed so different at times today from the T'Pol he'd seen, from his perspective, only yesterday. It wasn't just the way she casually touched him, or the looks tinged with silent pain, or caring he'd see in unguarded moments. The energy between them felt different, like it had evolved into something more.

They both had difficulty sharing fully with people the private sides of themselves. That barrier seemed to be breaking down between them. He could see glimpses of a woman more complex than he'd ever imagined through the widening cracks in the mortar. Sadly, he would forget what he'd seen tonight and have to discover it again tomorrow. He'd never know just how close they would get.

"They were right you know."

"Who was right?"

"The people who said that colonists don't share views like that. Some prejudice might exist, but most people won't go to extreme measures."

"I can't take the risk..." She looked down at the floor unable to continue.

"The risk of what? Either of us getting harmed? Serving on Enterprise put us in danger from time to time. I didn't see you moving somewhere else because of the risk. Why is this any different?”

She gazed up into his eyes and whispered, "I can't take the risk of loosing you."

Jonathan swallowed. Things had definitely changed since the accident in the corridor. He wanted to clasp her shoulders and give her some comfort. Or hug her to him and say he understood because he stayed in the corridor because he couldn’t loose her either. She sat just beyond his reach.

His voice caressed her name and betrayed his caring, "T'Pol. You're not going to loose me."

He could tell she wasn't convinced. Her fear clouded her logic. Getting through to her might be more than he could handle in a day.

oooooooooo

Jonathan heated up the pot of theris-masu tea and went over to the stasis unit to retrieve the gespar he’d made for T’Les earlier that morning. By Vulcan tradition, houseguests made breakfast. In the time he’d spent as a guest in T’Les’ house, he’d learned to cook many meals thanks to T’Pol’s instruction.

He’d also become more adept at interpreting T’Pol’s body language. She gave off subtle clues to her mood. Right now she was definitely holding something back.

“If you want to tell me what you’re thinking about, I’m here to listen.”

T’Pol set down her teacup and considered this. “In my… dreams, I remember each day - waking up in the mornings, going through my routine with you, meals, and conversations. On a few occasions, I have dreamed of my life here. I have experienced some dreams where you are there sharing the dream with me. After we were rescued from the desert, my dreams in that reality changed.” She hesitated to continue.

Jonathan washed down his gespar, “In what way?”

“I have been an observer in the dreams. I witness events from your life.”

She hadn't told anyone of the dreams. Assuming they were a side effect of helping Jonathan induce a healing trance, they might eventually go away when their enhanced connection began to fade. In the meantime, she both looked forward to and dreaded each dream. She would learn more about him with each dream. But unlike other parts of his life he'd shared with her, he didn't willingly share it.

Jonathan set his cup of tea down hard. She’d obviously never told him this.

“It could be the parasites playing with your memories again. I’ve told you about a few things from my past since we’ve been here. What events do you remember?”

“The first dream I recall happened three days after we arrived in the colony’s hospital. I remember being inside a house…”

“Jonathan please sit down. Your father and I have something to tell you.”

Jonathan slumped down in the overstuffed chair across from the matching beige couch where his mother and father sat side by side. From the looks on their faces, he could tell that whatever they needed to tell him was serious. His mother’s usually warm eyes held only sadness. Something was preoccupying his father’s mind, furrowing his brow like problems always did.

A bad feeling rose from the pit of his stomach. He thought back over the past few weeks trying to figure out why they wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t gotten in trouble at school or did anything wrong, so they probably weren’t getting ready to punish him. Only one other thing came to mind. Mom did take Dad to the doctor’s office two days ago. Neither of them mentioned it since.

Jonathan wasn’t worried about his dad. Dad had been forgetful lately. Maybe it was because he’d been upset because Ambassador Pointy Ears suggested a comprehensive test program for his warp engine, one that included numerous prototypes and extensive testing. Jonathan heard his father complain that what the Vulcans were asking for would take decades longer than the test program they already had in place. Dad was under pressure, that was all. He would be okay if he relaxed and took some time away from his warp engine.

Mom and Dad looked at each other. Dad covered Mom’s hand and squeezed it. He turned back to Jonathan and explained, “You know that your mother took me to see Dr. Leonard Wednesday. He ran some scans and discovered something.”

Jonathan stared at his father and swallowed. His mind braced itself for what would be said next. He hoped that it would be something minor, but his gut told him something was horribly wrong. A feminine hand tried to rest on his shoulder. Jonathan was unaware of it. The hand passed through his body.

In the years to come, he wouldn’t remember the storm forming outside the double window behind his parents, the smell of meatloaf hanging in the air from that night’s dinner, or his mother’s striped cat Cheshire rubbing against his legs begging for attention. He’d only remember the looks on their faces as they broke the news to him.

“He detected the first stages of Clark’s disease.”

The bad feeling in Jonathan’s stomach intensified to a searing pain. “He’s wrong. It’s not true! Mom tell him it’s not true. We can go to another doctor-”

“Jonathan!” Mom silenced him. Tears filled her eyes, “It is true. All the tests for the genetic markers came back positive. The doctors said we caught it early. It may be possible to send the disease into remission.”

He didn’t mean to ask the question, but it slipped out anyway, “So you’re not going to die?”

Henry looked at him, his fears and uncertainty plain on his face. “I don’t know son.”

Jonathan listened numbly to his parents explain that they weren’t sure about much of anything. They would have to wait and see. Jonathan headed back to his room and locked his door.

He searched the databanks for Clarke’s disease and read everything he could find for the next few hours. Each new piece of information made him feel worse. From what he could understand, the chances of remission were slim at best. There was no cure and little chance of survival.

Climbing out of his window, he walked to a tree in the backyard guided by the light of the crescent moon. A rope ladder brought him up to his tree house. Tears escaped his eyes and streamed down his cheeks as he looked up at the constellations his father taught him.

A person hunched under the low ceiling beside him. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder again. Jonathan brought his knees to his chest. He couldn’t hear her call out his name.

oooooooooo

Trip’s smiling face entered the hospital ward.

“Trip,” Jonathan said mirroring his smile.

Trip walked over to the biobed Jonathan was sitting up in. Grabbing Jonathan’s hand, he pulled him in for a hug.

“I heard someone was getting released today.” Jonathan’s civilian attire supported what he’d heard.

“Yeah. Even though I can only remember being here a day, I’m eager to get out of here. You know me Trip, I don’t like sitting around in hospital beds doing nothing.”

“Then I have just the thing for you. If you and T’Pol are free to go, I’d like to take you to see it.”

T’Pol spoke up from a computer console on a desk across the room. “Dr. Phlox has already released us.”

Trip scrunched up his face as he thought. “Then why are you still here?”

"We had not yet made a decision on where we are going to stay." In other words, she hadn't managed to convince Jonathan despite numerous attempts that leaving the colony was in their best interest. She wouldn’t leave the colony until she had his consent.

“T’Pol I think you’re really going to like this surprise. Why don't you come along?”

T’Pol raised her left eyebrow and shut down the computer. “Very well."

“Come on then. I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see this.”

Jonathan followed him out. T’Pol walked closely by Jonathan’s side. He didn't need her physical support to walk anymore, but she was in the habit of walking near him in case he did.

“I wish I thought to bring blindfolds. Oh well, you won’t see the surprise if we go the long way around.”

It took fifteen minutes to walk the ‘long way around’.

“Here it is.” Jon and T’Pol both remained silent, “Well, tell me what you think.”

Jonathan furrowed his brow and looked over the empty stretch of land that Trip had brought them too. The plot of land was on the edge of a group of completed and nearly completed houses. Less than a mile away stood one of the colony’s greenhouses.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking at Trip?”

Trip sighed. “I called in a few favors and had both of your names designated on a plot of land. See these stakes.” Trip pointed to four metal stakes making out a rectangle. “All of this is yours.”

Jonathan silently stared at him. Looking over at T’Pol he saw his shock mirrored on her face. Emotion filled her eyes. He reached down and gently squeezed her hand. She turned her head and looked at him. He gave her a small smile.

It wasn’t a pretty site. Determined clumps of grass sprouted out of the dry, cracked land. There was nothing spectacular about it. For some reason it seemed beautiful to both of them.

“It’s wonderful Trip,” Jonathan said with a huge grin.

“Don’t just stand there. We've got work to do.”

With that Trip ushered them off to numerous buildings to make arrangements. More arrangements were made via communicator while eating dinner on the Horizon. Jonathan was grateful. Running around all day depleted all his energy. T'Pol looked tired too. She drank several glasses of water and ate the biggest meal he'd ever seen her eat. She still looked tired after their meal. Jonathan suggested Trip put off showing them scrap parts until tomorrow.

“Why are you doing this? I thought you disapproved of me bringing Jonathan to the colony.”

T’Pol sat across from Trip in the front seats of the shuttlepod he came down in. Jonathan was outside using the portable shower.

“I didn’t agree with your decision until I saw Jon down here these past few visits. Jon seems happier down here than he was on Enterprise.”

T’Pol sensed he was not being entirely truthful but let it go.

“I love Jon like a brother, but I think I couldn’t do what you do for him. You watch him grieve over Earth and the people who died every day. And your wake up the next day and do it all over again. I don’t know if I could handle seeing him like that again and again. You must care about him a lot to do this for him.”

T'Pol neatly avoided quantifying her emotional attachment to Jonathan, “Someone has to care for him. Since I am Vulcan and able to handle his emotional reactions better than a human, I am the logical choice.”

Trip gave her a disapproving look, undoubtedly for her comment about Vulcan superiority.

“It’s more than that T’Pol and you know it. You care about Jon in your own way,” when she opened her mouth to speak he put up his hand, “And don’t tell me that Vulcan’s don’t care. Because I know you do.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow. She looked out the view port of the shuttlepod. Through the open door of the shuttle, she could hear the sound of insects and water running in the portable shower. She felt the ever-present link between her and Jonathan. She could admit to herself she felt something for him, but quantifying the emotion in human was difficult for her. Caring? Friendship? Love? T'Pol had never had a first kiss, a teenage boyfriend, or experienced any of the other 'customs' that familiarized humans with their romantic feelings.

"If the accident happened four years ago, I would not have helped Jonathan."

Trip laughed lightly and interjected, "You could have cared less about humans back then."

"Jonathan and you could have cared less about Vulcans back then."

"Yeah. Things have changed a lot since then."

"Indeed. At first I did not believe that Jonathan and I could work together as captain and first officer given our feelings towards each other's species. I did not expect another human emotion to facilitate a better understanding between us."

Trip looked at her confused. "What emotion?"

"Compassion. I witnessed Jonathan showing compassion to many of the alien species we encountered. But I did not anticipate him showing compassion to me. I did not expect him to want to keep me as his first officer. Or to come to support me on other occasions."

"I understand," Trip said. And he did. That was the way Jon was. His compassion, more than anything, instilled loyalty in his friends and crew.

He didn't fully understand though. There were many events he didn't know about. He didn't know that Jonathan found out about T'Pol's Pa'nar syndrome. And he still kept her as first officer. He didn't treat her any differently because of her condition. Trip probably knew he didn't leave her back on a planet in the Expanse so Enterprise could be lined with Trellium D. But he didn't know about their conversation in sickbay, and how he insisted to once again keep her on Enterprise.

T'Pol mused that Trip might say, humans had 'rubbed off on her'. Mostly one human in particular. She hadn't intentionally set out to learn from Jonathan, but over the years she did. Just as he learned from her. Four years ago her logic would not be affected by human concerns like compassion. Now she could not make a decision without considering things like that.

T'Pol brought her attention back to what Trip was saying “- We both want what’s best for Jon. We might not agree but we both have good intentions. Things like that don’t have to come between us in the future T’Pol. I don’t know if we can ever be friends again, but I hope we can.”

His suggestion surprised her. “I think it is possible.”

Trip smiled, “Good.”

Jonathan walked in the shuttlepod in a pair of loose pants and a shirt. His wet hair stood at odd ends. He looked from T’Pol to Trip. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not much Jon. T’Pol and I were just talking about you. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her anything too bad.” Trip teasingly smiled at him.

Jonathan half-smiled, "I'm afraid to ask."

T’Pol and Jonathan headed back over to their campsite and tucked in for the night. The next day Trip woke them early to begin preparations.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jonathan asked Trip and T’Pol.

“It would be a suitable roof for the house,” T’Pol said.

“Yeah, it would,” Trip agreed.

“You read my mind,” Jonathan said.

“It was not necessary. This piece is adequate for use as part of the roof given the shape of the pieces we have already selected.”

Jonathan half-smiled at her thinking she was telling another of her dry jokes. T'Pol unconsciously stepped closer to him.

“Oh, so I gather that means you like it,” Jonathan said.

"It is acceptable," she said looking at him.

Before them sat a curved piece of outer hull probably from a cargo ship. They stood in a field littered with the remains of transport ships, cargo ships, shuttles, and other spacecraft dubbed the graveyard by the colonists. When ships were disassembled, the pieces ended up here. Each piece was scanned and entered into a database. Contractors could browse the database and find pieces suitable for their project. The pieces would then be transported via grappling arm to the construction site.

Jonathan, T’Pol, and Trip were shopping today for pieces to make Jonathan and T’Pol’s new home. So far, they’d found a mess hall and adjoining rooms to make up the main living space. Another room from another level of the transport ship would have enough space for one room and an adjoining bathroom. Since only two people would be living in their house, they could have only one bedroom according to the colonial regulations. Those regulations ensured that building materials were conserved.

Conservation also meant that the interior of their home would reuse many materials from their quarters on Enterprise and the rest would come from the rows of furniture, appliances, and fixtures in the building called the scrap yard. Their new home might not be what either of them would desire in a home, but it would do.

Jonathan and T’Pol couldn’t construct their house alone. Trip would help Jonathan with some of the design and engineering aspects. Help was another term for friendly arguing about whose way of doing something was better. Jonathan usually won out, yet occasionally went with one of Trip’s ideas. Trip would return to Enterprise in a few days and help via the comm. He had ship's business to attend to.

Other help would come in the form of members of Enterprise’s crew. Many were eager to spend time helping their former captains. Both Jonathan and T’Pol would work on the house. Phlox gave them medical clearance to do so long as they informed him of any problems.

“Well, it looks like we’re done here,” Jonathan said as he checked over the padd with their requisitions on it.

Later that day, they moved their requested pieces over near their construction site with a modified shuttlepod. A few days later, work began.

oooooooooooo

Jonathan had never told her what he did the day he learned of his father’s condition. T’Pol talked with him a long time about what this could possibly mean. Could her dreams actually be real? It seemed that way. Vulcan doctors and scientists wouldn’t seriously entertain the idea. Eventually, Jonathan came to the conclusion he shared with T’Les.

“T’Les, we’ve exhausted all avenues of treating T’Pol on Vulcan. The doctors said the technology doesn’t exist at this time to cure her. Please, let me take T’Pol with me to Earth. I can search for a cure there.”

T’Les sat across from him in her Vulcan robes. She reached for her teacup and slowly sipped the tea considering what he said.

Jonathan patiently waited for her reply. In the five months he’d stayed at T’Les’ house, he’d learned that Vulcan conversations were not rushed. Answers required thought and consideration. Both of these required time.

During his stay, he and T’Les built a relationship forged by their mutual caring for T’Pol. They sometimes didn’t agree on what was best for T’Pol, like now.

Jonathan’s eyes strayed to the room they sat in. If T’Pol’s childhood home was on Earth, Jonathan would swear it had Asian influences. Sleek, minimalist modern design balanced out by ancient Vulcan relics. The color scheme echoed the hues of Vulcan’s landscape. Suffusing the house was a sense of peace that Jonathan only felt before in a Buddhist temple in Tibet.

T’Les rested her cup back down. “T’Pol, did he consult you on this decision?”

T’Pol sipped her own tea and responded, “He asked me what I thought this morning. I told him I would defer to both of your judgments since you are fully aware of the situation.”

“A logical decision,” T’Les commented. Another sip of tea and several minutes of silence followed.

T’Les watched the human man’s features. When he first arrived with her daughter, she reluctantly granted his request to accompany T’Pol to the various institutions where she could seek treatment. Jonathan made a logical and sound argument that day. T’Les needed her job at the Academy to support herself. She could not afford to take the time off to take T’Pol from appointment to appointment. Jonathan had the time and was willing to do so.

A human using logic was something T’Les had never heard of. Jonathan intrigued her, and she began to see what her daughter found fascinating about him. Along with the intriguing aspects of his personality came the frustrating ones. The man was as stubborn as her daughter. Emotional and illogical reasoning sometimes guided him. He repressed his deepest emotions and kept them private most of the time, but when they were unleashed, they were powerful and threatened to consume his reason.

Jonathan was in essence a mass of contradictions. Her daughter, being a scientist, found puzzles, scientific and otherwise, fascinating. Jonathan was a puzzle that could be worked on for years without seeing the full picture of the man. T’Les came to understand that this man captured her daughter’s curiosity like no other puzzle before.

T’Les’ own puzzle revolved around Jonathan too. What exactly was he to her daughter, and what was she to him? Their relationship was complicated and beyond what she understood as friendship. T’Les observed their interactions weighing each look, each touch, and each word. She still could not understand her daughter’s extreme loyalty to the man or the feelings they both worked hard to repress.

Looking up at Jonathan’s patient gaze, she revealed to him, “There is another treatment we have not tried.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned it before?”

“If we seek out the ones who could provide the treatment, we will be breaking Vulcan law.”

“What exactly are you talking about?”

T’Pol stared at her mother in shock as she explained.

oooooooooooo

Weeks passed quickly as both Jonathan and T’Pol worked along side the group of their former crewmembers building their home. At first, T’Pol worried about Jonathan. He pushed his body as hard as anyone else. He continued to work despite the pain and her protests.

Each morning, T’Pol handed him a padd containing notes about the progress of construction and the design blueprints he and Trip made before Trip returned to Enterprise. They would have breakfast. Then they’d walk from the group of tents housing the construction crew over to the build site. About ten hours later, they’d return to their campsite. A long bath in the river or the portable shower would wash away the sweat and dirt.

Their days always ended sleeping next to each other in their small tent. A more comfortable airbed replaced their sleeping bags. That didn’t stop Jonathan from rolling in his sleep invading T’Pol’s side of the bed. One morning T’Pol awoke and slowly detangled herself from him. Only that time he hadn’t rolled to her. She’d gone to him. Her head rested against his chest. She could hear his heart thumping against her ear. His right arm supported her head and his left wrapped around her back pulling her close. A leg draped over hers. He rhythmically breathed, blowing through her hair with each exhale. Being close to him, being in his arms didn’t disturb her. Enjoying the closeness did.

She enjoyed the feel of his body next to her. Working on the construction of their house each day changed him. He regained the muscle he lost from dehydration. She couldn’t remember consciously enjoying the look or feel of him before that morning. The things she appreciated about him were mental not physical. His compassion, his friendship, the complexities and contradictions of everything that was Jonathan Archer. Perhaps she only became aware of her appreciation of his physical appearance then. Or maybe she just wouldn’t admit to herself that the awareness existed before. She wondered as she moved back to her side of the bed if this was another side effect of their link. His human characteristics could be rubbing off on her. Deep mediation cleared her mind of the unfamiliar emotional reaction.

Their efforts and those of the team of dedicated crewmen who helped them paid off. Though their house wasn’t anything spectacular to look at, it was home. The day they finished construction on the house was a cause for celebration.

Jonathan opened the door of their new home and let T’Pol step inside before him. Trip greeted them at the door and ushered them past the people clumped in groups throughout their home. They both were instructed to sit on the couch Jonathan recognized from his quarters.

A drink and plate of veggies, cheese, fruit, and cake soon found a place in his hands. Jonathan could see Hoshi, Malcolm, and other members of Enterprise’s crew among the crowd. People milled about and occasionally came over to them to talk.

A blond woman introduced herself, “Hello sir. I just wanted to tell you I’ll be your new neighbor. Mulcahey will be living with me, but she’s working her shift at the water plant.”

“Nice to see you again Natasha.”

T’Pol chimed in as well, “It is pleasant to see you again, Lt. Thompson.”

“Please have a seat. And call me Jon. I didn’t realize we’d have Starfleet officers as neighbors.”

Thompson sat down on a folding chair by the couch, “Almost all the plots around here are designated for Fleeters sir -- Jon. Some of the miners and boomers don’t like Fleeters, so we’re sticking together.”

The crowd thinned out over the course of the afternoon. Several people, including Hoshi and Trip, stayed to help clean up. Hugs and until next times were exchanged with Hoshi and Trip. Both promised to come back to see them on Jonathan’s birthday.

When he and T’Pol were finally alone, Jonathan decided to take a tour of the house. The place didn’t have much in the way of furniture. The bar and kitchen were put together from what looked like a freighter’s galley. A lot of things he recognized from his or T’Pol’s quarters.

The house only contained one bedroom. Jonathan walked in the room. A double bed filled up one wall. The wall at one end of the bed held a tall rectangular window. A divider wall rose almost to the ceiling and separated the room from the main living quarters. The only other wall held his medicine cabinet and shelves and a door in the corner. Behind the door, a small bathroom housed his walk-in shower from Enterprise, a sink, and a toilet.

When asked, T’Pol explained colony regulations only allowed one bedroom for two people. It helped conserve raw materials. The tall cabinet in the living room held a hideaway Murphy bed that T’Pol would use.

A familiar bark came from behind him. Turning around he found Porthos staring back at him through the bars of a makeshift doggie crate. Jonathan bent down and set the dog free. Porthos jumped in his arms and licked his face. Jonathan caught T’Pol’s disapproving look at Porthos. Hopefully Vulcan and canine could learn to cohabitate.

Jonathan resumed his tour of their home. The house has several computers, one in the bedroom and the other out in the living room by the front door. T'Pol explained Hoshi enabled them to link with Enterprise’s computer. Malcolm set up the security features. Outside of his room was a protein resequencer.

“There’s so much to take in. I can’t believe we put this together in such a short time," Jonathan said sitting down in a chair across from the couch.

T'Pol sat down on the couch. Porthos jumped up and laid himself across the cushion next to her. She raised an eyebrow and sniffed the air but did not tell him to get down.

"Come here boy," Jonathan called. Porthos raised his head then put it back down refusing to move. Jonathan looked at T'Pol shrugging his shoulders. T'Pol raised an eyebrow silently agreeing with him.

"The help we received from Enterprise's crew allowed us to efficiently construct this building." They both discussed that for a while before starting to settle in.

Their first evening alone in their new home felt surreal. They spent most of the time opening crates and finding toiletries and other things they needed that night. Dinner was leftovers from the party. T’Pol found a padd of recipes from chef. Some of them were marked as being Jonathan’s or her favorite dishes.

Later, while in search of her pajamas, T’Pol found a backpack in one of the crates. Washed clean of sand, salt, and sweat, it didn’t show any signs of the journey it made on her back across a desert. Her hand smoothed over the pack and unfastened the closure. Crisp and clean clothing lay in a stack over a med kit now fully stocked including a tightly packed survival blanket. Absent was the bloody specimen bag, rags that Jonathan used to cover his head and eyes, and the empty water pouches.

Like the backpack, Jonathan was washed clean of the memory of those days they spent fighting to stay alive. He didn’t remember the lengths she went to keep him alive. Soon, his body would be back to normal, and show no signs of those days either. Jonathan would stop asking what happened to him, and she would stop telling him of their journey through the desert.

T’Pol placed the bag back in the crate and closed it, moving on to the next one. Eventually she found her pajamas. She showered, and then made her bed while Jonathan showered. Jonathan’s voice carried through the house as he quietly sang a somber song. The smell of his soap and aftershave wafted from the bathroom when he opened the door letting the steam out.

Since returning from the desert, she’d felt uncomfortable sleeping alone. Tonight she felt the absence of Jonathan’s body next to hers more than usual. Gentle snoring emerged from the other room. The familiar sound slowly lulled her to sleep.

oooooooooooo

‘Four more days,’ Jonathan repeated to himself, ‘Four more days until we reach Mount Selaya.’ Dropping his backpack onto the tent floor, he laid down beside it. Not even bothering to roll out his bedroll. He didn’t mind the small volcanic rocks poking into his back under the thin tent material. Being out of the oppressive Vulcan heat was enough for him.

A shadow outside his tent opened the Velcro closure of the Vulcan tent. Jonathan already knew who it would be. T’Les wouldn’t come inside his tent. She would ask him to come outside to talk to her. T’Pol stepped inside letting a blast of hot air into the tent.

“You are due for another tri-ox injection,” she said.

“Yes,” he wheezed as his lungs struggled to keep up with the demands of his body in the oxygen poor atmosphere.

T’Pol moved over to his backpack and retrieved a first aid kit from it. Taking out a hypospray, she loaded it and injected his neck. Jonathan’s breathing evened out moments later.

Since arriving on Vulcan, he’d used tri-ox off and on depending on his level of physical activity and if he was heading outside the comforts of T'Les' home that day.

Today had definitely been one of the days he needed it. They’d hiked for hours through the desert. T’Pol at first walked beside her mother. When it became apparent how much their journey was affecting Jonathan, she fell back and walked with him. He knew why- her memories of the other Jonathan and T’Pol struggling to survive.

Jonathan set up and looked at T’Pol who tried to hide that she was watching him. “You’re wondering if this will turn out like your memories of the other desert.”

“No,” T’Pol denied, “Human physiology is not built to withstand the conditions of a Vulcan desert. I am merely concerned for your safety.”

He weakly smiled at her. “Thanks. You know I’ve undergone survival training before. And this isn’t the first time I’ve set foot in a Vulcan desert.” Jonathan set about rolling out his bedroll and then lay back down.

T’Pol’s curiosity didn’t take long to get the better of her. “When were you in a Vulcan desert?”

Jonathan propped his head up with an elbow. “You remember surviving for days in a desert. What happened here wasn’t as adventurous as that. En route to a remote Vulcan think-tank your mother’s shuttle broke down when we encountered a sand storm. Our communications were knocked out by the storm. I made a mistake. I didn’t tell the think-tank members when exactly to expect us. So they didn’t report us missing for three days. We ate ration packs and rationed what little water we had while hiding out in the shuttle’s interior during the heat of the day. Other than loosing some weight and growing a beard, I didn’t suffer any ill affects. And you only had to suffer through the stench of me going three days without a shower.”

T’Pol thought of the version of the events she remembered.

“T’Pol, would you mind telling me how they are doing.”

“How who is doing?”

“The other me and you that you dream about. You usually tell me what's happening to them when I ask. With all that's happened lately, I haven't asked in a while. Have they completed their house yet?”

“Yes, They moved in several nights ago."

"Oh."

"She also had a dream..."


Next Chapter: T'Pol learns more about Jonathan, and T'Pol tells Phlox a secret.

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