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"Advance Directive"
by A. Rhea King

Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them, CBS/Paramount does.
Summary: Trip is accidentally exposed a fledgling clone which puts his life in danger. Archer demands it be removed, and learns that Trip has taken this decision out of Archer's hands without telling him. All he can do is wait and hope he doesn't lose his friend.


CHAPTER 5

The waiting room needed a clock or a dripping sink or anything to break the silence. Archer looked up, watching an adult and child Plouph waddle past the large windows of the room. T’Pol sat in a chair next to the windows, staring out at the gardens. Malcolm sat on the opposite side of the room, withdrawn into his worry. Archer looked at the floor, rubbing his thumb against the inside of his palm.

His mind went back to the conversation about the will and the surprise of finding out what Sim’s death meant to Trip. The memory was sadistically reoccurring, chasing away sleep, appetite, and peace. Archer’s eyes drifted back outside as he came to a decision. The fledgling’s migration could take another two hours, so now was as good a time as any to address Sim’s death with Malcolm and T’Pol.

“Tell me how Trip feels about Sim’s death.”

As if she were expecting the question, T’Pol quickly answered, “He regrets that a sentient being died in his place and swore to never let it happen again.”

Archer looked at his hand. “He must hate me. He sure puts on a good face to cover it.”

“Trip could never hate you, sir,” Malcolm told Archer.

Archer looked over his shoulder. Malcolm sat on the other side of the room, staring at the wall.

“Is that what he told you?”

Malcolm looked at him. “Yes, but it’s more than that, sir. You’re one of four people he trusts completely, just like me. I don’t think he could ever hate you.”

Archer looked down. “I always thought you two were best friends.”

Outside rain began to patter quietly against the windows.

“A person can have more than one best friend,” Malcolm smiled. “And given who we’re talking about, that should come as no surprise.” He got up, walking over to the windows to stare up at the cloudy sky.

“I just wish that he would have allowed them to remove the fledgling.”

“Do you?” T’Pol asked, turning in her chair to look at Archer.

Archer looked at her. “Rather than risk his life? Yes.”

“But that would have killed it, and perhaps even Trip.”

“The Plough are concerned the fledgling may exhibit mental disorders due to the fact that it learned from a human. That alone is enough reason for me to wish this had ended differently.”

“They feel it will be confused, but they are prepared to help it understand as it grows. And is ending it’s life because it may be mentally challenged a reason to kill it?”

“Learning from Trip may confuse it, but think of the sense of humor it’ll have,” Malcolm chuckled.

Archer looked back at him. “How can you joke?”

Malcolm smiled. “Because he would joke if he were here now. Besides, how many other men do you know that have gotten pregnant twice in a life time?”

Archer smiled, even laughed a little.

The room door opened and Doctor Phlox walked in. He fell into a chair next to Archer. He was still wearing a surgery uniform and had never looked so exhausted. Phlox laid his head against the wall

“How are Trip and the fledgling?” T’Pol asked.

Phlox smiled, looking at her. “It’s a male fledgling and is healthy and in a growing tub. In forty-eight hours the fledgling will be placed with the family unit Nadez chose for him. As for Commander Tucker, he’s still critical but I’m fairly certain he’ll make a full recovery. He was conscious for a few minutes, long enough to hear how the fledgling was, and that seemed to please him. Captain, I strongly discourage moving him until he’s out of critical condition.”

“Do whatever you need to keep him safe,” Archer replied.

Phlox stood. “Nadez will let you three know what room he’s in once he’s stabilized, but that could be another six hours. In the interim, I’m going to go get cleaned up and some sleep.” Phlox walked away at a slow, stiff pace.

T’Pol stood. “I am going to get something to eat. Would you like me to bring you anything?”

“No. Thank you.”

T’Pol left.

Archer rubbed his tired eyes with the heels of his hands. He heard Malcolm sit down across to him and dropped his hands.

“When we were stranded in Shuttle Pod One, Trip and I talked about you,” Malcolm told him.

Archer smiled. “All the bad stuff is a lie.”

Malcolm grinned. “He told me that you can’t skateboard. How does he know that?”

“Oh wow!” Archer laughed, letting his hall fall back. “Linda and Laura.”

Archer stretched his arms across the back of the chairs, crossed a leg over the other and retold his version of the story.


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