Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: Shuttlepod One

N.B.: Sequel to “Oblivion.” Trip’s POV, light slash. This is another stream of consciousness piece. Again, this deals with the issue of depression and attempted suicide, so don’t read on if it’s too squicky for you. ~RB

I can’t believe what he tried to do.

I mean... Malcolm, he’s always been such a rock, so calm, so stable. Not so calm and stable after all, I guess. Just inscrutable. It’s j’st like my granny always said, “Still waters run deep.” His ran deep alright ... deep with pain.

I’m so glad I went to ask him about the phase canons last night.

Phlox told me this mornin’ that I found him j’st in time. Any longer and the poison from the combination of the painkillers and alcohol would have caused too much damage to his brain to repair. Not to mention a few other vital organs.

Vital.

I never realised before how vital his presence was ... to me ... to this ship. Everybody’s been lookin’, I don’t know, haunted, I guess. It’s like there’s a piece of the clockwork missin’, keepin’ the other cogs from turnin’. Bet he never realised how much we all care about him.

Love him.

I do, you know. As a friend, sure, but so much more than that. It’s hard not to. He’s so intelligent, so strong, so beautiful. There isn’t a person on this ship who’s interested in men who wouldn’t trip over their own feet tryin’ to get him. If any of them thought they stood a chance.

I almost thought I stood a chance once.

It was on the shuttlepod. The facade slipped, the marble Adonis became a living, breathing human being. He was so vulnerable, I j’st wanted to hold him. I was afraid to, though. All he’d talked about as far as past relationships went were women. No men, no boyish charmers...

I should have done it anyway.

He could have used the affection, I think, even if he didn’t return it. If I’d had any sense at that moment, I would have seen how very badly he was hurtin’ and not worried so much about gettin’ hurt myself.

My poor darlin’. I wish he’d said somethin’.

His suicide note was somthin’ else. Chillin’ it was. He made recommendations for his replacement and apologised for the inconvenience. Apologised for not being’ good enough.

I want to cry, thinking about it.

He really hates himself. The note made that clear enough. Hates his appearance, his so-called weakness and stupidity. He didn’t come right out and say it, but it’s there, plain as the nose on my face.

I neither look nor perform as an officer should...

His words. Me, I always thought he was more military than the military. Or Starfleet’s version anyway. Precise, perfect ... that’s Malcolm Reed. A Navy Man amongst cowboys. But enough of a cowboy to be unhappy on the ocean. Trapped between worlds.

Unhappy on the ocean. Unhappy in space, too, it seems.

Poor, poor darlin’. I’d like to help him find his happiness. He deserves to find his happiness.

He’s been without it for too long.

On to part 3.