Chapter Text
They stood in front of the incubator in sickbay. Trip and T’Pol were looking down at their daughter whom they’d named Elizabeth. She was not well, and they now knew would not survive much longer. They wanted to spend every moment she had left with her. Because of her condition, they hadn’t been able to touch her or hold her since they’d been on the shuttle from Mars to Enterprise. She needed the support of that incubator and all that Dr. Phlox could do for her to have these last few hours.
The grief in the room was palpable. Dr. Phlox was taking the impending loss personally, not just as a medical professional. Both parents were in a state of shock. They had pushed their confusion and fears aside so they could do their jobs and rescue their child, but now those emotions had come to the fore. It was heartbreaking.
T’Pol looked up at Trip, “I can feel the connection with her.” T’Pol’s face was showing stress and pain, but also a sliver of hopefulness. “The bond isn’t like ours, but it is there. I could feel her reaching out to me when I first held her on Mars.” Scans taken with a medical tricorder had confirmed to T’Pol the scientist what T’Pol the mother had known by inexplicable intuition. Her daughter was gravely ill. Had she carried this child, a unique bond would have formed between them. It would not have been as strong or as nuanced as the one she had with her baby’s father, but it would have allowed her to know where her child was and if that child was well. While on Mars waiting for rescue, T’Pol had then done something normally never done among Vulcans. She initiated a limited meld with her child. She did so gently and only going to the superficial level of consciousness. There was very little established personality, but there was innate intelligence, and a remarkably centered emotional presence. T’Pol needed this connection with her child, and this brief meld seemed to replicate the bond that ‘should’ have existed between them. T’Pol was then able to sense her presence and her physiological state nearly as well as if she had conceived and carried her naturally.
“I think I can connect with her now,” T’Pol said as she laid her hands on the incubator and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and concentrating. She reached out through the bond with Elizabeth. It was surprisingly easy. T’Pol found herself in the white space she used for meditation. She was sitting on a mauve satiny blanket with Vulcan proverbs embroidered along the edges, a duplicate of the one in her childhood room, and she was holding Elizabeth. The baby wasn’t bundled up to maintain her body temperature, but in a plain lilac colored dress. She didn’t need her head covered, so the curly wisps of her blond hair were visible. T’Pol was able kiss her forehead and count the toes on her tiny feet.
She reached out again, ‘Trip, come be with us’. In his mind, he heard her and after a few moments was able to enter T’Pol’s white space. His heart tightened at the sight of T’Pol sitting holding a healthy vibrant infant. A small fluffy teddy bear materialized on the blanket, and Trip recognized it as a duplicate of one his sister had been so fond of. T’Pol looked up at him and smiled. “Come sit with us. I want her to know who we are.” He sat next to T’Pol and put his arms around them both. He was struck by how peaceful and serene she looked, and how happy Elizabeth looked as she grabbed at her mother’s hands and blew spit bubbles.
T’Pol said to Trip, “hold her for a while. You didn’t get to before.” Trip’s shoulder injury had made it hard to hold the baby as they got her off Mars, but here he was whole as well. He took the baby from T’Pol and held her, looking down into her blue eyes, his eyes. Seeing her wispy blond hair and pointed ears, Trip thought she looked like a tiny elf. He smiled at that thought. Elizabeth seemed just as taken with him as she was with her mother, flapping her arms and making assorted cooing and gurgling sounds while smiling up at him. He was struck by how completely and unconditionally he loved her. He counted her fingers and toes and kissed her forehead and tip of her nose. “Sweet girl, I hope you got your mom’s nose and not mine.” He sighed and looked at T’Pol, “thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to do this myself.”
T’Pol replied,”this time is not just for us. She should not be alone now.”
Trip looked back to his daughter as she grabbed at his uniform and made a series of grunts and gurgles. “Elizabeth, I’m so sorry. This isn’t what we would have ever meant for you.” Trip was feeling the heavy emotions this experience brought, but wasn’t overwhelmed. He couldn't be. For at least the present moment, he had to be strong and assured. He had to be this little girl’s dad, for as long as they had. T’Pol had done the practical thing; she’d found a way to bond with her child, and then had found a way to give her mate the chance to bond as well, given the extraordinary circumstances. Now, they both were open to Elizabeth’s emotions. This little one radiated happiness and joy. There was something else, a strangely mature sense of acceptance.
Trip shifted Elizabeth back into T’Pol’s arms, and embraced them both. “I love you sweet girl,” he said, “always.”
“Know that I love you as well little one,” T’Pol said, saying those words to another for the first time in her life. The baby snuggled close to her and yawned, suddenly appearing very sleepy. Trip and T’Pol exchanged a glance, both knew it was nearly over. Elizabeth yawned once more, and appeared to slide into a restful sleep with her fingers in her mouth. And then she faded and was gone.
A second later Trip and T’Pol were in sickbay, the connection broken. They looked away from the incubator, as they knew Elizabeth was gone.
*****
Both Dr. Phlox and Captain Archer had been present in sickbay with Trip and T’Pol when Elizabeth passed. At first T’Pol had been silent and still, but then she began to shake with quiet sobs. Trip took her into his arms, tears streaming down his face.
Dr. Phlox said to them, “I am so very sorry. I wish there was something I could have done.”
Trip got out in a shaky voice, “Doc, nobody could have done better. Thank you.”
“Perhaps you should take Commander T’Pol to her quarters,” the doctor said. T’Pol nodded in agreement.
The captain clasped his friend on the shoulder, “I don’t know what to say, Trip. I am so sorry.” He turned to T’Pol, and was surprised to hear himself say, “S’ti th’laktra.” (I grieve with thee.)
As they left sickbay the doctor turned to Captain Archer and said, “make something good come of this, Captain.”
Archer felt a tremendous weight settle on his shoulders. “I will. I have to,” he said quietly. “There will be arrangements to be made. I’ll get Hoshi to contact the Vulcan consulate and Ambassador Soval.”