ENT WIP: Finding Home 15/? R/S [R]

[Philippe de la Matraque]

Title: Finding Home
Author: Philippe de la Matraque
Part: 15/?
Series: ENT
Rating: R (for discussion of violence and torture)
Pairing: R/S light
Archive: Yes to Trekiverse.org, otherwise, please ask.
Contact: pdelam...@gmail.com
Web: http://gabrielle.sytes.net/Trek/stories/findinghome1.html
Summary: Sequel to Alien Us. Malcolm Reed barely survived to see to be
reunited with Hoshi Sato. But things have taken a downturn and now he
needs a new heart and a way to heal.
Author's note: I deliberately use italics like this *in text** just
because it makes conversion to HTML so much easier.

Star Trek: Enterprise

Finding Home
by Philippe de la Matraque
Sequel to *Alien Us**

Chapter Fifteen



Malcolm Reed sat, knee bouncing, in a lawn chair surrounded closely on
three sides by his therapist and his new family. A month ago, he'd
found himself calling Elaine, Mom and Charles, Dad. He used the
American terms as they were his American family. And both had smiled
when he did. Mom had even hugged him, which only reinforced what Trevon
had said.

What his father didn't know--and probably never would--was that,
painful as it had been, Malcolm counted his worst psychological crisis
now a blessing. Because of Trevon's patience in helping him see the
truth of his birth parents and the love and acceptance of Trip's family,
he felt he had a rebirth of sorts. His past didn't change, but it had
led him here, ready to share a brief history of what happened in Sharu
with three people who never asked.

His knee bounced because it still wasn't easy. But it was part of his
healing. And he trusted Mom, Dad, and Miguel. "Less than a year ago,"
he began, "maybe six or seven months, I was sent on a mission with a
MACO, Corporal Moody, and Ensign Hoshi Sato, our Chief Communication
Officer, to retrieve someone who didn't belong on a pre-warp planet.
We'd intercepted a mysterious subspace transmission. We hit something
on the way down, lost power and crashed on the planet. What we didn't
know was that thing we hit caused us to travel back in time as we
crashed. We crashed one year before we ever left."

That part was easy enough. It raised some eyebrows but, though the
time travel was an important detail in the story, its mechanics was not.
"Corporal Moody died on impact. Hoshi and I were injured but mobile.
We hoped to reach a forest we'd seen on the way down before any natives
found us. We weren't so lucky."

At that point, Lily jumped into his lap and curled up, forcing him to
keep his leg still. She'd gotten pretty good at sensing when he got too
tense or stressed. She purred and the vibration grounded him. "At
first, it wasn't bad. They healed our wounds, did cursory exams. We
didn't look like them at all. They were reptilian and looked a bit like
our dinosaurs, if dinosaurs were smaller and wore military uniforms and
lab coats. The ones that looked more like T-Rexes with long arms were
the military. The ones in lab coats were more like pterodactyls that
don't fly. They came in two sizes. The big ones were doctors and such,
while the smaller ones were orderlies or nurses. They were all male."

"How did they reproduce without females?" Miguel asked.

"Oh, there were females," Malcolm answered. "But I never saw or
interacted with them. And they only mate once every three years. We
crashed at the start of the third year. That will come into play later."

He stroked Lily as he spoke. He'd covered the easier parts. He didn't
plan on mentioning the collection of semen, or every single 'surgery.'
They'd be there all night.

*Now for the hard part.** "After a month, they grabbed us and drugged
us. We lost consciousness for a while." He took a deep breath and
swallowed. "We woke up during the surgery. I could feel them cutting
me, reaching in, the pain. I could hear them talking in very clinical
tones. It felt like it went on for hours, and I wanted to die. Hoshi
confirmed it happened to her as well."

Mom was on his right, and she put a hand on his arm and squeezed. He
went on. "They took Hoshi away about a month later. I didn't know that
though. They took me to surgery again. I woke up during it. I found
out she was gone after. They concentrated on different regions of my
body. Every surgery was the same though, in that I was awake. They'd
keep me in a coma for a week after, allow my body to heal the rest of
the month and do it again."

"Every month?" Dad asked, horrified.

Malcolm shook his head. "They eventually had explored just about
everything surgically. So they tried chemicals on my skin, heat and
cold tolerance. But when they opened my head, something else happened."
He looked at Trevon, who nodded his encouragement. "I thought a
thought to Hoshi, that I was glad she wasn't there to suffer as I had.
And she answered." Raised eyebrows again.

Trevon cleared his throat. "Malcolm's telepathy is very different from
mine. In some ways, it is more limited and in other ways it's much more
expansive. He's limited in recipients. Not everyone can hear him.
This Hoshi Sato could, and even on the other side of the planet. With
time and practice, they could not only communicate, but share sight and
sounds, and even sensation. With me, he can share memories and it's
like I'm there having the same experience."

Miguel turned to face him. "Did he share one of those surgeries?"

Trevon blew out a breath. "Not intentionally, but yes, I have felt
that in some of his unguarded moments early on."

"Talking with Hoshi," Malcolm went on, "changed everything. It was
still horrid and looked more and more like we were left behind. But we
weren't alone. We had each other. We told each other stories during
the bad times, and we fell in love there half a world apart."

The next part was the hardest, and he felt his heart begin to pound.
"As we came closer to the end of the year...." He paused for another
breath. "Things changed. They tried harder to make me speak. They
were more aggressive in their experiments, and one of the military was
always there. They drugged me, but Hoshi could help. She'd tell me
what to say. She's a linguist. We told the story of *The Lord of the
Rings** in quite a few different languages. They let the T-Rex--my
codename for the military guy--They let him pound on my leg until it
broke. And he pushed me into a tub of water." His voice decreased to a
whisper. "And drowned me. Twice."

He took a few shaking breaths and Lily pushed against his chest. "Trip
explained later that it was their mating time, so testosterone was high.
And they switch ruling species around that, so the military was
gaining power over the scientists. I had to have surgery on my leg, my
chest. Awake. But somewhere during the coma, one of the orderlies--I
called him Smeagol, but his name was Bayzhoo. He helped me in small
ways before this. Like, he gave me a small amount of water in secret
during the heat experiment. Now he had my communicator and he gave it
to me to call for help. Hoshi helped me with the message. Then I was
out again."

"Wait," Dad said, lifting a finger. "You went after a message then
crashed a year in the past--"

Malcolm nodded. "Yes, it was my message."

"But you didn't know," Elaine argued.

"I didn't," Malcolm agreed. "When I woke up again, I was being dragged
into a room where the T-Rex was interrogating Bayzhoo. He killed him,
then left me in that room with the body. A little while later and even
bigger T-Rex roughed me up some more, then they dragged me out into the
desert, laid me on the side of a hill, held me down, and pounded large
stakes through my wrists, one at a time." He opened and closed his
fists to remind himself that he could. Lily pulled one hand back for
more petting and he obliged. "There were cables in my ankles, holding
my legs up, pinching the nerves. Two pulled my legs out, and one pulled
them together. They left me there in the sun to die."

Mom took his other hands and squeezed it in her two.

"That night--after I told Hoshi goodbye--Trip found me. Took me back
to *Enterprise** and my parents said to take me off life support.
Apparently, I came very close to dying, but I didn't."

"Did they rescue Hoshi?" Miguel asked.

Malcolm nodded. "Yes, she didn't suffer the same as me. They put her
to work with their females. Farm work. And then, they would regularly
take her back to the lab to, um, well, to impregnate her with a clone of
me."

Miguel squinted. "Why?"

It was easier again. "Their females are less evolved. Not as smart or
sophisticated. So they apparently didn't think any females could be
equal to males. She had to be like their females. They never tried to
talk to her or make her talk. The country she was in had to settle for
the female alien. They wanted a male. So they wanted to clone me."

"So she was okay," Mom surmised, "when they found her, your crew."

"Well, no," Malcolm told her. "We didn't have a life there. No
future. We didn't think *Enterprise** was coming anymore. We were no
better than lab rats, or zoo animals, a slave. When she knew I was
dying, she hatched a plan to join me. She almost succeeded. She nearly
froze to death. Fractured hip, arm, jaw. She did heal faster than I.
But we did manage to have a date before I had a heart attack. They sent
me home for a heart. She had to stay for some secret mission." He
sighed. God, he missed her.

"That must be hard," Mom said, "having her in your head all that time
and now--"

"Nothing," Malcolm breathed. "I guess I can reach the other side of a
planet, but not light-years through space."

"She probably feels the same," Miguel said. "She had you in her head."

Malcolm nodded. "I think everything might have been easier--even with
my parents--if she'd been here. But Mom, you told me stories of Lizzie,
and Dad, you talked about the kittens and Trip. Miguel you've shared
stories of Albert and Owen. You took me in when I was at my lowest.
And you're helping me to heal what I didn't know was broken."

"Did you experience any flashbacks in the telling," Trevon asked silently.

*No," Malcolm replied likewise. *It hurt, but not as much as I thought
it would.**


Hoshi Sato looked out at the stars streaking by the windows. She was
relieved that they were now heading home. But she thought she'd be
happier than she felt. She was still twenty-one days from seeing
Malcolm or talking to her parents. Trip had assured her the engines
were running perfectly and that they could not go any faster.

Phlox was patiently waiting for an answer.

"I feel," Hoshi started. It should be easy to answer. But she didn't
just feel one thing. "I feel, glad, anxious, worried, impatient...."

"It's perfectly fine to feel many different and even contradictory
emotions," Phlox said in response. "Though perhaps it would be
healthier to entertain one feeling at a time. Can you allow yourself to
be happy for one hour? Or agree to set aside worry for a time?"

"I don't think I can do happy," she told him. "I can distract myself
from worrying if I have something to keep me busy. But now that the
negotiations are over, but still no external communications, I don't
have much work to do.". There was always the UT. She'd envisioned it as
a tool for real-time translation for all parties conversing. A human
speaking English with a Tellerite would hear English, while the
Tellerite would hear his own language. They could manage it with some
species fairly well, like the Vulcans. But it needed to work for first
contacts, too. They were still a long way from that.

"You're officially on leave," the doctor reminded her. "You needn't be
working at all. What about hobbies?"

"Like what?" She really didn't know. She'd run an illegal poker ring
at the Academy. Did that count?

Phlox sounded surprised. "What did you do in your spare time before
the crash?"

She spent time with Cutler and Travis. Girl talk with Cutler and a few
other female colleagues. With Travis, it was usually watching movies.
She didn't need girl talk anymore. She'd found the man she wanted to
keep. "Sometimes I'd cook."

"And what did you like to do back on Earth before you joined
*Enterprise**?"

She had to think. That had been a few years ago. She'd been teaching
in Brazil. She went on excursions into the Amazon Forest to learn the
languages of the tribal people that still chose to live there. She
played poker. Her mother had sent her a Bonsai tree. "None that I
could do here in twenty-one days. Except maybe go to Hydroponics and
help something grow. I had a Bonsai tree back there."

"Ah, those are the miniature trees?" Phlox smiled but not to his
widest. "I do believe Lt. Carrillo picked up some saplings from M476234
a few months back. Perhaps you could start a Bonsai. You can always
take it with you to Earth."

Tending a Bonsai was a calming exercise. "Okay, but not every tree is
compatible with the process. And it doesn't take up much of a day."

"What about art?"

"What about it?" she repeated. "I'm not much of an artist."

"Perhaps as a therapeutic exercise then," He offered, as patient as
ever. "To exorcise your demons, as they say. And you needn't draw.
You can use compository software. Find images that most closely
represent what you have in mind."

Probably easier enough, she figured. Start with dinosaurs, scale them
down and dress them up. "I don't want to think about the orcs," she
said instead. "I'd like a whole day where they don't even cross my
mind. How would putting them in images help me do that?"

"Hoshi, you know that sharing the story helps it become less painful.
Sharing it in a different way can do the same."

Wasn't that similar to what she'd told Malcolm, or wished she'd told
Malcolm? "Fine, I'll try it. Still a lot of day to fill. And the days
feel longer now that we're heading home but are still so far away."

He wasn't deterred by her pessimism. "Perhaps T'Pol can help you fill
another hour with meditation?"

"No." She negated that right away. "That's like mindfulness. And I
try, I really do, but when my mind has little to think of, it goes back
to Sharu or to Malcolm."

"Hoshi," he said, in a tone that carried a bit of exasperated patience,
"your anxiety for Malcolm will not change his condition on Earth for
better or for worse." Phlox reached forward and took her hand. "It
only hurts you. Your cortisol levels increased sharply since Commander
Tucker returned, and they've only decreased slightly since you were
relieved of the negotiations to now. You will learn his true condition
in three weeks' time."

Of course, it didn't change Malcolm's condition. But she just couldn't
help it. "But when I think of him--and I *want** to think of him--I end
up picturing him pinned in the desert or catatonic in Mississippi. I
know he has a therapist and Trip's family but I just can't seem to
imagine him well and whole. I want to, I really do. I want to daydream
about what life together might be like. I just get stuck."

"The uncertainty makes it worse?" Phlox asked. "Would you like to know
what happened in the desert. I can relieve *that** uncertainty. Though
it is very unpleasant."

She felt tears well up in her eyes but she nodded. "Can it be worse
than what I imagine?"

Phlox squeezed her hands. "It might. We know from the scientists'
records that he was injured before being taken to the desert. His femur
had been previously broken as had his sternum. He was in a
medically-induced, rehabilitative coma after surgery to repair those
injuries when he was revived. It would seem he was violently beaten or
roughed up prior to the desert as well. They laid him on the side of a
hill, head down. There was a bruise I believe came from a foot of a
large 'orc,' as you call them." He put his other hand to his own chest
to demonstrate. "His arms were bent to ninety-degree angles and large
stakes were driven into his writs and then into large wooden blocks in
the sand."

The tears slipped down Hoshi's cheeks. "And his legs?"

"Cables, two on the outside, pulling his legs apart. One between them,
pulling them together. Where they crossed, they pinched the nerves. He
could rest his legs without causing even more pain. A defibrillator was
attached to his chest, to keep him alive as long as possible."

Hoshi sobbed now. Phlox moved close and pulled her into a hug. "Is it
better to know."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I thought of worse, but it's
terrible. When they started, I was doing the morning feeding. He held
on in that heat and sun. I kept telling him stories. It was cold at
night when he told me goodbye."

Phlox patted her back. "Now imagine him waking from surgery and a few
days later, writing your letters. He could move all his fingers. He
could walk a short way. He could breathe easily; his heart could beat
strongly. He was well and healing. He was whole."

And she found she could. He'd written that his new heart loved her; it
beat faster when he thought of her. But it was healthy, as were his
nerves and even his eye. He'd said he would someday sweep her off her feet.


Malcolm finished feeding Lilibet and Seena, then headed for the shed.
Lily had beautiful, dark brown points and big, blue eyes. And she had
become his little shadow. Seena was Trevon's chosen kitten, the calico.
The older couple he stayed with was allergic, so Malcolm agreed to
care for them both until Trevon moved back to San Francisco. As such,
Malcolm got the benefit of both of them sleeping with him, which was
comforting and helped him get back to sleep after a nightmare. The
other three kittens had been adopted out. The mother cat, now spayed,
didn't much like people touching her and preferred to stay outside. But
the family put food out for her and she stayed close.

Mom pretended she wasn't a cat person, but he'd caught her giving the
kittens treats when she woke up late at night. Although that wasn't as
often as before, for her or for Malcolm. They were both feeling much
better rested.

Miguel only visited every few weeks now to do the obligatory checkups.
Malcolm was feeling physically well now. He could walk and even run-in
short bursts. The splints had come off, and he now got to work on
something more interesting than picking up pegs with a pair of tweezers.
Starfleet R&D had supplied him with the parts, and Malcolm had taken
up working in the shed. He started with a replica of the force field
he'd stabilized before. It was practically easy now. But it was still
static, in only one plane. He was trying to find a way to bend and
shape it. It kept his mind and hands busy. Though he wished he could
brainstorm with Trip sometimes.

He was using an even smaller working replica to try and shape it around
a simple cube when Dad yelled out the back door off the kitchen.
"Malcolm, you have a visitor."

For just a moment, he hoped it was Trip, with Hoshi, and that
*Enterprise** had returned. But he knew that was unlikely without some
advanced notice. It wasn't Trevon. He wasn't due for another hour.
Malcolm turned off the little force field and walked back to the house.
He was surprised to see Dr. MacCormack having coffee at the table. She
stood. "Hello, Lieutenant. Do you remember me?"

"I do," he replied and offered his hand. "You've come a long way."

Dad tactfully slipped off to the living room. The doctor smiled. "You
are technically still my patient. I wanted to see you for myself before
signing off on a declaration of fit for light duty." She took a scanner
from her pocket. "May I?"

"Absolutely." Malcolm held his wrists out to her, let her scan his
chest, take readings on his eye. It only took a few minutes. She
snapped the scanner closed. "You're still too thin, and need to
continue training for strength and endurance, if you wish to return to
tactical service. R&D had expressed an interest in you staying on and
joining the team in San Francisco."

Malcolm wasn't sure what he wanted, and he didn't have Hoshi's input on
the matter. "I'm keeping my options open at the moment. If it's 'fit
for light duty', does that mean I need to report somewhere?"

She shook her head. "No, Lieutenant. You're fit for light duty but
still officially on indefinite leave. You're still on the roster with
*Enterprise,** and *Enterprise** is at an undisclosed location." She
sat again, holding out an arm to indicate he should sit as well. "When
I last saw you, I was very concerned for your mental health. Dr. Trevon
has given me regular reports--not of private thoughts or feelings, but
of your overall health. I was very glad to watch your progress. I'm
sure you still have reasons to keep working with your therapist, but all
told, you seem to be in a much better place."

*Literally and figuratively,** he thought. "I do feel much better. I
would like to ask you something, if I may."

"Certainly," she replied.

"Can you tell me about your interactions with my sister?" The doctor
was one of the last people to see and talk to Madeline.

She nodded. "Madeline Reed was determined. She came with a
declaration by her doctor that she was of sound mind when she made the
decision. She fought for it. We took some samples to test
compatibility, and she proved to be highly compatible. The day before
surgery, she returned. She wanted to see you. She started to cry and I
helped her to imagine what you'd be like now, all healed up. She had a
spell that night, in the hospital. A bad one. We put another bed in
your room, and she slept there after the spell had passed.

"In the morning, she and her nurse took a flight around the city to see
some of the iconic architecture of San Francisco. Then she came back.
We prepped her for surgery. I explained the procedure and put the
controller in her hands. It would push her into a spell and brain
death. She wanted to say something first. She said, 'Malcolm first.
Anything I have that he needs. Then the others. My brain goes to
research. Maybe they'll find a way to treat these damn tumors. Don't
tell my parents what I've done. Darlene will inform them.' Then she
pushed the lever."

"Darlene?" He hadn't heard that name before.

She nodded. "Her nurse and companion. Scrubbed in and stayed with her
right to the end."

Malcolm wanted to find this Darlene. "Do you happen to know Darlene's
surname?"

"Not off hand," MacCormack replied. "But she scrubbed in, so she'll be
on the surgical report. I can get that for you."

"Thank you," Malcolm offered. "My sister left me her flat in London.
Maybe I can look this Darlene up. I have her journal as well. She said
she was happy, that her death would mean something if she could help
me." He felt his throat tighten. "I wish we'd stayed in better touch."

MacCormack reached out and covered his hands with hers. "I could tell
she loved you very much, and I think she'd be glad to see you as you are
now." She finished her coffee. "I should be getting back. I Have a
hospital to run. It was good to see, Lieutenant. Stay well, whatever
you decide." He walked her to the door.


Hoshi woke up and marked the day on the PADD with Malcolm's letters.
Fifteen more days to Earth. She sighed deeply, but got up and took a
shower. She put on her civies after and tied her hair in a ponytail.

She'd promised to meet up with Travis for breakfast. So she walked to
the turbolift and told herself it had been ten days already. Time was
actually passing. It didn't feel like it. She felt like she was in
some kind of limbo, stuck in the same day over and over again. Though
she rationally knew that wasn't possible, and she'd had breakfast with
Cutler, Phlox, and Trip in the past week, too.

She still worried about Malcolm and what his father's outburst had done
to him, but the rational idea that he's had time and therapy to heal in
Trip's family's home had started to sink in as well. He was likely
better off than when Trip returned. Would she hear him as they got
closer to Earth? He had reached her in Buftanis. They didn't know his
maximum range. Would he know they were coming to even try? They
couldn't contact Starfleet Command until they entered the solar system
and not their families until two hours after the ambassador disembarked.
Surely, she'd be able to hear him from orbit. Wouldn't she? Would he
be ready to hear from her? Or would she have to wait for him to
initiate? How could he know to do that if she couldn't contact him for
over two hours?

She was still running scenarios when she got in line for food.
Pancakes. She put two on her plate then spread some peanut butter on
both before pouring on her syrup.

Travis smiled as he shook his head. "He converted you, didn't he?"

Hoshi smiled, too, remembering the earlier part of their date. "Have
you even tried it?"

"Can't say I have," he replied. "My aunt, though, used to swear that
peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches were good. I never wanted to
try that either."

Hoshi cut off a bit and put in her mouth. She found it sticky, as
before, but just as tasty. She wanted to wash it down but realized
she'd forgotten a drink. "I forgot my milk." She started to get up,
but Travis waved her back.

"I'll get it. Go ahead and eat."

He was back quickly and she took a sip to wet her mouth a little. "Are
we going as fast as we can?" she asked.

"Solid warp five," he answered. "Trip says the engines are purring, so
we'll get there on time. What do you have planned for the day?"

Hoshi blew out a breath. It was pretty much the same as yesterday. "I
started a bonsai with one of the saplings Lt. Carrillo brought back.
Phlox wants me to do some composite drawings. Otherwise, I'll probably
work out, meet with Phlox, and maybe work on the UT some."

"Carstairs has been going a little stir crazy on the bridge," Travis
told her. "Not much for a communications officer to do when we're
running radio silent." He smirked. "Not much for a helmsman to do
either really. Keep it pointed home and going fast. Straight lines are
kind of boring."

"I would have thought I would enjoy a little boredom," Hoshi admitted,
"after working hard in the fields or shoveling snow. But it just makes
the days seem longer, even when I can't get my thoughts to slow down."

Travis leaned across the table. "Didn't I hear you used to run a poker
ring at the Academy?"

Hoshi nodded. "And I got kicked out of the Academy."

"For a poker ring?" he asked, sitting back.

She shook her head and smiled. "For breaking the arm of the guy trying
to break it up."

Travis chuckled. "Ouch. Glad they let you back in. Anyway, maybe we
could get a couple others and have a friendly game. Renfield has a
deck. He likes playing solitaire."

Hoshi found she liked the idea. "Anyone have chips?"

"Not that I know," Travis replied. "But I'm sure Trip'll have some
nuts and bolts we can use instead. Want me to ask?"

Poker could kill a couple more hours. "Okay. I have to meet with
Phlox at 1700. How about 1830?"


Malcolm watched the weather report along with Mom and Dad. Hurricane
Griselda was projected to head into the gulf and onto the mainland.
They were far enough inland to not have to worry about the full force of
a hurricane, but even as a tropical storm, it could be rough. Malcolm
wasn't too worried. Dad had assured them that he'd been through several
actual hurricanes back in Florida. Houses these days were built to
withstand much worse. Flooding was the only thing they needed to bother
with. Houses and buildings could be sealed up tight, but water could
still saturate the ground and come up that way. It could trap people
until boats or flitters could get them out or drop supplies.

They were seventeen kilometers from the nearest river, so that wasn't
an issue Malcolm concerned himself with. He managed to get the
forcefield to curve around a cylinder by having the emitter project out
and down, like an umbrella. Where it met another projection, it
flattened and joined.

The report said Griselda would make landfall in eight days. He had
that long, then, to get his forcefield to cover the house.