Disclaimer: Owned by Paramount. I just like
messing with their minds...
Summary: Good weddings don't make great
marriages, and don't we all know it...
The poem "Unbeliever" belongs to a friend of mine and is used with her
(Note from Li: the poem's author is Lisa Ann; here are more of her
last words of the message faded into nothingness, and Charles Tucker (Trip to
his friends) sat back on his chair in an almost stony silence. He had already
downloaded it onto a padd so that he could read it at his own pace, but
something inside him had pressed for the oral version as well...
And the content of the letter... well, to say that Trip was merely surprised
was probably the understatement of the year, if not the century. He had
initially grinned at Malcolm's formal tone and introduction, but the smile had
quickly faded when he'd heard what the man had had to say, and the final few
parting words still danced in his ears:
//"Can I honestly say that I do or don't regret all of my actions? Most of
them, most of them I do, and I like to think I could somehow try and make
amends." Pause. "I love you."//
Those three words, when he'd heard them, had sparked an insurgence of
emotions inside him. Only some of them had names that he could put to them, the
rest leaving him confused to say the very least.
Part of him now hated Malcolm and those goddamned British attitudes of his. A
year and a half - seventeen months! - that man had had to say or do something -
anything! - and a whole year before Trip had reboarded the Enterprise, this time
as her captain. So what had changed? Why now? Why dredge up a series of events
that he would really rather try and forget had ever happened?
Trip looked down at the padd in his hands, and scanned through to the end of
//"I love you."// That was why, and the explanation was there in the
But again, there was the question - why now? Why did Malcolm feel that now
had to be the time to churn everything up once again... as if he expected Trip
to be waiting for him, to be almost desperately waiting for some sign of
reciprocation from the younger man?
And more importantly, why was he letting it get to him like this? He'd made
the decision already, that Malcolm was in the past... and that that was the way
things were going to be... both back then and for evermore.
//Life goes on.//
That was the lesson Trip had learned, a lesson compounded by his limited
experience as a starship captain, a lesson that he had always come back to,
every time... every time his heart was broken, and he had thought that
everything should have ended there and then, rather than finding the strength to
give tomorrow a second chance. And in some small way, he hoped that Malcolm
would find the same sort of strength as well, if he was to move on at all as
//Life goes on, Trip m'boy. Just keep rememberin' that...//
He put the padd back on the desk and looked up at the ceiling of his
quarters. The captain's quarters. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to convince
himself that this was all real, but here he was... he'd managed to move on,
right? Wasn't that the point of having tomorrow?
Unbidden, his mind wandered to something he had been given by one of his new
senior staff, and called the text up on a computer. He'd originally grinned at
the idea of being presented with a poem that his science officer had written,
especially one that clashed with her seemingly cheerful disposition, but now
that he thought about it, the more he realised that maybe she was smart in more
ways than one.
//I don't believe the strings we pull
Will change what we have
I don't believe in following
A long-forgotten dream
I don't have faith in Romeo's
I won't be Juliet
I won't let myself down
Or be left in the wet
I won't accept that "us" is gone
I'm missing my old friend
forget the songs we sang
I know the wounds won't mend
I won't admit that I'm afraid
I'd rather be alone
I'm scared to heed
the future's call
Can't face it on my own
I don't believe in parting ways
To each a different road
I do believe
we'll meet again
The princess and the toad
I can but hope the skies are blue
Wherever I may go
I don't believe
I'll feel the sun
And I may never know
I don't believe the roads ahead
Are any easier
I won't give up on what
It makes things no less clear
I won't look back as I move on
Or be caught in the past
I don't believe
the void in me
Will ever truly last
I don't believe you'll ever know
What you could truly be
believe we'll flap our wings
And fly above the seas//
A noise behind him pulled Trip out of his reverie and he turned around, a
smile forming on his face as he did so, then shook his head as he switched off
the computer, taking the poem with it as the screen went dark at last.
He crossed the distance between the computer and his bed in a matter of
seconds, and an instant later he was safely beneath the warm covers. Without
warning, strong arms wrapped themselves around Trip's chest and shoulders, and
the captain leaned into the other man's sleepy embrace.
"Sorry, Mal," he whispered to oblivion, feeling tiredness come over him, "but
life goes on."
Within seconds, he was fast asleep, the endless field of stars rushing past
outside his window.
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