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Her manicured nails raked through his hair, a small comfort as an aching, old pain rallied against his chest. There was understanding in her touch, one which Trip was grateful for. The past few years had been full of ups and downs in their relationship, but they always found themselves back together.
Especially today. Always on this particular day.
Their daughter had been in their care for less than a day, yet the impact of her passing was one that Trip would never forget. Trip had never understood the unconditional love of parents, but the moment he had heard of her it was like something inside of him had clicked together. Elizabeth passing had been like getting his own heart ripped out of his chest.
Trip shifted, pressing a kiss to T’Pol’s exposed neck before settling there, just breathing her in. She always seemed to smell so nice, which often made Trip feel a bit self-conscious about the nearly constant state of sweat he seemed to be in.
She never complained though.
Or, well, besides from a well-timed sassy-mouthed remark that made Trip gasp in mock offense and laugh, she never complained about him.
Her arms were tight around him, her right hand rubbed warm circles along his back as he wept for a girl long gone, a child who never had an opportunity to live. For his daughter. His beautiful, little Elizabeth. The pain for his daughter extended out to his late sister, a seemingly never ending cycle of mourning that Trip found himself stuck in for years. Maybe it was because he hadn’t mourned his sister as he should have that he was so damned stuck in this overwhelming, blinding grief even years later.
Trip pulled away and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his jumpsuit. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pounce on you like that.”
T’Pol’s hand continued to rub at his back and the other reached over, firmly wiping at the tears on his cheeks. Trip closed his eyes and relished in her warm touch. “There is no need to apologize. Today is… today is a hard day.” Her eyes shifted to her lap, bright and wide.
Never in his life had Trip thought he would see a Vulcan cry, but since he had met T’Pol he had seen her shed tears at least twice. Even though she kept herself together, now, Trip still pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “Don’t I know it.”
They held each other, holding on as they mourned their loss. Trip held onto T’Pol with the knowledge that he had never held his baby daughter. T’Pol was the first to fall asleep and Trip watched her as his tears continued to fall.
It would be better in the morning.
The pain would always be there, but it would be better.
Trip closed his eyes, the afterimage of T’Pol’s sleeping face lingering in the dark of his eyelids.
The thing was this: Trip had known he wanted to marry T’Pol the moment he had heard about the sweet, small wedding their future-marooned selves had. The way he’d smiled silly at the thought had been a bit ridiculous, but it was like a dream come true to know that they had a real possibility. A future. And while they had their ups and downs, their months of avoidance and breaks and rough sex to hide behind their emotions that only hurt them deeper in the end, Trip knew there was no one else for him.
This Vulcan woman, so endearing and funny and passionate it shouldn’t be possible, made him feel more loved than anyone else he had ever met. They had a history interwoven with sorrow and loss, but also with a care Trip had never managed to find elsewhere in the past. No, this was more. More than anything. Trip didn’t even know how to put into words how their relationship was different.
But it was.
And Trip wanted to marry T’Pol so badly it made his bones jittery.
It just felt like the timing was always off.
With first contacts, conferences, anniversaries of deaths that had happened so close together that even a decade later it was hard to untangle the grief and hollow distress, and everything in between, Trip couldn’t find the right time to ask.
Three years with a ring in his pocket and all for naught, apparently, compared to T’Pol who had turned to Trip one evening as he was reading over a report on a PADD, his glasses perched on his nose and a frown on his face over the general need of needing the damn things, and asked, “Would you consider marrying me next month when we arrive on Vulcan?”
Trip, only half listening, had begun with, “Yeah, sure thing,” before pausing and dropping his PADD onto his lap. “Wait! Now wait a damned second! Did you just—” He gaped at her and T’Pol gave him that look that was the equivalent to smirking and rolling her eyes at him. Trip practically tripped over himself to get out of their bed, falling onto his knees in front of T’Pol.
It would definitely come back to bite his ass later.
Long gone were the days of acrobatic movements and colliding knees with metal floors; now at forty-three Trip’s body would not hesitate to complain about his idiocy.
Still, he ignored everything, cupped T’Pol’s cheeks and said, “I’d marry you right here and now if I could!”
T’Pol’s face softened in that way of hers that told Trip just how she had worried over the answer and how much she was emboldened by the fact that Trip did want to marry her. Her lips quirked up slightly and she placed her hands over his. He loved her so much, knew her so well, he had to kiss her to let out just how much emotion was welling up in his chest.
And if he was crying? Well, Jon always said Trip had enough big expressions for the both of them.
“You weren’t paying attention to me.” T’Pol playfully accused with a lift of her eyebrow. “Should I not disturb you next time you are reading?”
Trip rolled his eyes and sighed. “I am sorry for being so absorbed in my work that I neglected you.”
“You should be.” T’Pol answered, cheeky woman she was. There was a pause as they stared into each other's eyes. Hers were so bright and beautiful Trip thought he could be lost in her gaze for the rest of his life. He was good with that. It was what he wanted for quite a while now. Maybe since he had seen her in that sparkling purple dress, bounding herself to another person. “Are you certain?”
“About knowing how to multitask? Because I think I can do it,” Trip squinted and tilted his head to the side, only to sober up when T’Pol glanced away. He moved his hands up to her ears, feeling at the tips until she looked back at him, annoyed. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
It took her a few moments to relent and speak. As much as they had made progress in opening up with each other in the time they have known each other, it was still a struggle from time to time. Especially for T’Pol. For a Vulcan who had so many emotions that wound up bubbling to the surface, she still had a difficult time forming actual words regarding them.
Her eyes got that wild look about them, the one saying she was afraid before Trip squeezed her hands. “Babe, it’s alright. Your emotions are safe with me.”
He kissed away the tremble of her lips.
Then she whispered, right into his mouth, “Are you certain you want to marry me?”
Surprised and a bit hurt, Trip pulled away and searched her face. “Why wouldn’t I be? Why would I say yes if I wasn’t? Do you think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?”
T’Pol glanced at her hands before taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes. “No, I do not believe you would intentionally do so. It is just, well. We have separated from each other quite often over the years. What if we marry, yet find ourselves… unsatisfied again?”
Trip supposed it was a valid concern. Their beginning had been tumultuous enough and that wasn’t accounting for the time they had been too codependent on each other after their daughters passing, their subsequent break-up, and the will-they-won’t-they break-ups and make-ups over the following years. It had been a real mess between them. They were better now, but Trip understood the concern she had.
“Look, I don’t know what kinda feelings we’ll get in the future. We’ll probably get tired and frustrated with each other before we know it. But we’ll learn how to navigate through it. Hell, if we have to go to therapy to work through anything then I'm more than willin’. We’ve stuck together for three years now T’Pol, I think it’s safe to say that we’re both pretty committed to seeing us through.” Trip set his hand on her knee and smiled at her.
“Less than three years.”
“Huh?” Trip blinked.
“We had briefly broken up about—”
Trip shook his head, immediately knowing just what she was going on about, “That hadn’t been a break up, it was a short break while I dealt with some of my shit. It hadn’t even been more than a week! I doubt that anyone would count that as an actual break up.”
T’Pol grabbed Trips hand, pressing the tips of her fingers to his. Slowly, intimately, she dragged her fingertips along his fingers and palm. “Therapy is an unorthodox method for Vulcans,” she said before she intertwined their fingers and met his eyes, “however, I would attend such meetings if that’s what we will ever need. I intend to be married to you until either of us dies.”
Trip grinned. “Morbid.”
“Is that not the human vow?” T’Pol raised an eyebrow.
He squinted and blew out a breath as he considered that yeah, alright, she had a point. “ Till death do us part ,” He relented with a shrug before laughing, “Yeah, that sounds good to me. I’m with you until my very last breath T’Pol. You have my word.”
“It is too early for vows,” T’Pol stood up, not saying a word when Trip’s knees and back popped as he stood up. Yup, he was definitely feeling the consequences of his actions. They spent way too much time on the floor for this conversation.
She was stepping towards their bed, but Trip paused, patted at his side, and said, “Wait! Hold on! You beat me to it!” T’Pol raised an eyebrow at him and Trip grinned as he hurried over to the closet, shifting through the pockets of his clothes as T’Pol watched in bemusement. “Aha! Here it is! Had this in my pocket for the last three years. Since we got back together officially.”
He held out his hand, holding the ring that had been burning in his pocket for so long, grinning as T’Pol reached out and took it from his fingers.
It was a simple ring that Trip had known he had to give to T’Pol when he had came across it.
“Humans typically prefer diamonds,” T’Pol said as she turned the ring around underneath the light.
Trip laughed, “Well you sure ain’t human. Besides, I thought the green suited you better.” The look T’Pol settled on him was nearly toxic and Trip settled a blank look at her for even thinking what he knew had crossed her mind. “It’s not that . Emeralds have a meaning in human culture. Truth and love. It seemed fitting. Here, let me,” he mumbled as he took the ring from her hand and slipped it onto her finger with a smile. “Do ya like it?”
Seeing that ring on her finger made Trip’s heart sing a tune he never wanted to stop. They twined their hands together, Trip’s fingers brushing the metal and stone on his partner's finger.
“It is beautiful,” T’Pol answered, which was enough for Trip to be over the goddamn moon to hear. In his giddiness he began to sway, taking them into a short, awkward waltz around their quarters. His beloved, beautiful, astounding, wonderful wife-to-be gave him a bemused sorta-nearly-a-smile as they moved back and forth and stepped over cushions and Trip’s discarded PADD. “There is much to plan.”
“Yup.” Trip agreed.
They continued to dance, letting themselves have this moment for a little longer.
It was agreed between them that they would have two ceremonies—Vulcan and human traditional weddings—with a single reception party in a two day period. Trip had only been to one Vulcan wedding, years ago, and the details were a bit fuzzy but he knew enough of what to expect the day of. Still, he endured through a few hours of T’Pol explaining each element of a Vulcan wedding because that’s just what you do for love. Plus there was no way he’d show up to his own big day seeming like an ignorant fool. Trip was just glad that in the fourteen years since he met T’Pol his grasp of the Vulcan language was pretty solid. Nowhere near as good as Hoshi’s, but he could hold a decent enough conversation if he had to.
“Who should marry us during the second ceremony?” Trip mumbled as he placed his chin on T’Pol’s shoulder, watching as she made arrangements on her PADD. A month was an awfully short amount of time to plan a wedding, but T’Pol seemed to have everything well in hand.
T’Pol paused before slightly turning her head towards him, their noses brushing. “Anyone ranked captain or above are able to officiate marriages. Perhaps we should ask Archer?”
Trip wrinkled his nose and hummed in dissent. “I kinda wanted to ask Jon to be my best man. Or—hmm. I’ll ask him what he’d rather do. You know how he likes to say if it wasn’t for him we’d never be together.”
T’Pol shook her head, just like she always did whenever Jon made that joke in front of her. “That is not true. If anyone is to be attributed as the person who got us together, then it would be Phlox.”
Trip laughed, “Maybe we should ask Phlox to officiate instead.” Now that he got to thinking about it Phlox would be the best option. The man sure loved to celebrate anything regarding love. Once he’d heard about the old tradition of Valentine’s Day that had been quite a commotion of gifts and expressed devotion for everyone he knew.
“He does love weddings.” T’Pol agreed. “I will message him now to see if he would be able to.” It had been no surprise that Phlox had enthusiastically agreed, citing that he had already been certified to officiate earth weddings in anticipation of one day stepping up for anyone he knew needing someone to marry them. “He is quite through.” T’Pol raised an eyebrow after reading their good friend's message aloud to Trip.
“I’d say!” Trip answered as he laid back onto the bed. He kept one hand on T’Pol’s shoulder, playing with the strap of her négligé. She gave him a side eye for it, but once she realized he wasn’t trying to make a move on her she returned back to her work. “Who you thinkin’ about askin’ to be your maid of honor?” The conversation continued on until Trip could no longer keep his eyes open, tiredly listening to the distant sounds of T’Pol adding in the details they discussed into the arrangements.
The last time Trip had been to T’Pol’s family home had been when he had visited all those years ago after they had arrived back from the Expanse. Despite not being lived in the home was well taken care of by the housekeeper. Not a dust bunny or forgotten food in sight. T’Pol insisted on Trip staying in the room he had stayed in way back when, insisting that “it is inappropriate to share a bed before our wedding.”
“We’ve been doing it for years!” Trip had argued back even as he complied, throwing his bags onto the bed and wiping at his brow. The Vulcan heat was getting to him, just a bit, but he wasn’t about to complain when he knew he could endure it. Hell, Jon’d gone through worse on this very planet than dealing with the usual sun rays and the heat in an air controlled building. “Tomorrows the big day.”
T’Pol grabbed his hands, caressing his fingers in an intimate gesture that still made Trip feel giddy, and nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow we will be wedded.”
They pressed their foreheads together, standing there, quiet, the bond between them saying everything. Their nerves, excitement, joy, love, it all mixed together into something beautiful that Trip had to keep himself from tearing up over. Instead, he kissed the tip of her nose and the apples of her cheeks with an over the top “mwah” that made T’Pol wrinkle up her nose just a bit.
Cute , he couldn’t help but think as he stared at her. As he did another thought, always in the back of his head, curled outward and he knew he had to ask. He had to for his own sanity.
“Hey, I know we haven’t talked much about it, but uh.” He paused and T’Pol squeezed his hands in mild encouragement. Trip smiled shakily. When’d she get so good at comforting him? “Guess I need to bite the bullet. You want children, right? We know we—it’s possible. God, I. Sorry. I should’ve asked you a long time ago, but it’s been hard to ask when every time I think about it I think about—”
“Elizabeth.” T’Pol finished, her eyes shining.
“Yeah,” he breathed out a small sob.
When Trip had talked to his little brother about making arrangements to head over to Vulcan for his wedding, Bert had joked about Trip having himself a shotgun wedding like it wasn’t a long time coming and had asked, “You finally gonna be a papa?” It was a joke, but it was like he’d twisted a knife—one that had been stuck in him for years in fear of him bleeding out if it was removed—right into Trip’s gut.
I’m already a parent , Trip had wanted to say.
Instead, he had pushed past it and laughed.
Because that’s how he was supposed to act. Like there wasn’t a ten year old hole in his chest.
Him and T’Pol, they were already parents to a lovely beautiful baby girl who was gone before her time, even if it had been for no more than a day. They were parents without a child. That had been part of why their relationship fell apart after Terra Prime had been dealt with: they both had so much grief it had choked them up. Trip thought he already knew T’Pol’s answer to his question, but there was still a fear in his heart that she wouldn’t be on the same page as him.
Even so he would adapt. Trip’d always been pretty good at adapting, no matter how his friends and family joked otherwise.
“I want to have children with you.” T’Pol answered and Trip breathed in, relieved. “It has been ten years and I am quite certain I will mourn Elizabeth for the rest of my life… but I am ready to move forward. With you as my wife.”
Wife.
There weren’t many feminine terms and endearments Trip liked for himself, but wife, well hell, hearing T’Pol call him her wife evoked one of the best feelings he could ever have even as sorrow still tinged at his heart.
They kissed, slow and sad, before Trip ushered them towards the kitchen. It had been stocked up with fresh vegetables thanks to whoever took care of the house and Trip helped T’Pol create one of her favorite regional dishes. She corrected him whenever she caught him chopping something wrong, guiding him with her hands on his, and Trip would steal a kiss each time she did. The easy affection was intoxicating; they had both worked so hard to find themselves here.
Nightfall came before long and Trip was nearly asleep when T’Pol knocked on the door, a blanket in one hand as she stared at him. Trip raised up a single arm and she snuggled right up against him. She kissed his exposed collarbone and Trip mumbled out “night babe,” not completly sure if he was coherent or not. Come morning T’Pol was still sound asleep at his side and Trip took that as a means to laze around until they absolutely couldn’t spare any more time together.
For being a Vulcan wedding, the day was still a big fuss as the preparations were made. Trip was annoyed by the time noon had come around, munching on a fruit that a young Vulcan girl had sold him a basket full of without Trip much realizing it in his preoccupied manner. “ Children without logic ,” Trip had complained when he had shoved the basket at Jon, who had laughed and answered “sure seemed like a logical business practice to me!”
Asshole.
By the time the ceremony began, Trip’s annoyance had transformed into an eagerness. His outfit was a bit more embellished and brighter than what he was sure a Vulcan groom would wear to his wedding, but when he had voiced his concerns to the tailor, she had said it was illogical of him to compare himself to Vulcan grooms given he himself was not Vulcan. Still, he felt a bit like a disco ball with how everyone was looking right at him, but any uncomfort he had vanished when T’Pol and her entourage arrived.
He’d never seen her in green before and he found that it, like so many other colors, was a beautiful color on her. The bond they already shared flared with emotions he couldn’t name, something so happy and pure and wonderful he immediately teared up and didn’t give a damn about how many Vulcans were watching him be overly emotional, and T’Pol reached forward for a finger-touch. He eagerly pressed his fingers to hers and grinned when she shuddered.
“Hi,” he whispered into her ear as they kneeled for the ceremony, giving her a quick, discrete kiss on the tip of the ear as he did.
“Hello,” she replied back as she played with his fingers, hidden from view by their clothes.
The human ceremony the next day was an even larger ordeal: flowers imported from Earth, more guests that both Trip and T’Pol had only a passing acquiantanceship with if anything but had invited nonetheless for political reasons (the first interspecies marriage was quite the well-to-do that officials from all over the Federation were wanting in on seeing), Chef was half out of his mind getting the meals prepared with effinciany and with a kitchen crew he didn’t know very well, and the seating plans were being rearranged by quite a few crewmen arguing until Trip had taken matters into his own hands and gotten Hoshi and Travis to figure it out instead. The size of this ceremony combined with the guest count meant they were in a much larger venue than T’Pol’s family residence.
“Nervous?” Jon asked as Trip was in the process of braiding little Talla’s hair. Her father had tried, but the man was obviously better with a phaser than hair. Luckily for them Trip had been the designated hairdresser in his family and his skills had yet to fail. From his corner in the room, leering over not being able to make proper knots in hair, Shran snorted and Trip settled a look at him.
“ No ,” Trip said, rolling his eyes. “We’re already married. This ceremony’s all for you diplomats.” He pointed towards both Jon and Shran, who shared a look that Trip didn’t care to decipher. It was the tried and true Archer method that the man’d employed over the past decade: whatever was up with them was their business and Trip would have not part in it. He finished Talla’s braid and patted her shoulders. “We’re all done Talla.”
The young girl immediately touched at the braids and gave him a large grin, her blue teeth bright against the pale blue-white of her skin. “Thank you pink-skin!”
“C’mon Talla sweetie,” Trip threw his hand over his heart and pouted. “I thought we were past that!”
Talla twirled around, causing her braids to slap at her cheeks, ignoring Shran and weaving around furniture when the man tried to get her to stop. “No! A pink-skin is always a pink-skin! See! Look at you!” She pressed her hand against his and Trip shared an exasperated look with Jon.
“Well,” Shran said as he adjusted the collar of his dress uniform, a much more flattering albeit still odd fashion of clothing than the often joked upon thong-wear of the Andorian Imperial Guard. “She has a point. Your pink-skins are all—”
Trip stopped listening to the monolouge as he moved towards the door, announcing that he was checking up on the seating plans and delivering Talla to the other flower kids of the ceremony. Five was a bit much and Trip was sure any alien watching this was gonna get some ideas about how extravagant traditional (European-American) human weddings were when in fact everyone was just excited to be part of history.
Along with Talla the flower kids were the newest addition to the Tucker family, Trip’s five year old niece Hanna, T’Pol’s something-or-other cousins twins who Trip had seen once before at the ceremony the day before in the smallest, most adorable little robes, and Hoshi and Travis’s little boy Haruto. As the oldest, Talla was going to be in the back, holding Haruto’s hand, with the Vulcan twins in the front leading their long flower procession.
When Trip arrived at where he left the seating planners he was surprised when Hoshi screamed and leaped up at him, covering his eyes and forcing him to turn around. Before he turned he caught a brief look at T’Pol’s face, eyebrows raised. Trip groaned and turned around, hoping Hoshi didn’t mess up his hair.
“Seriously Hoshi?” Trip complained even as he brought both hands up and covered his eyes.
“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!” Hoshi countered with a playful jab to his ribs. Without seeing it coming the hit surprised him enough to jump a good meter off the ground.
“Jeez! Seriously Hoshi? We’re already married !” Trip rolled his eyes and dropped his hands, still facing away from them. “You know, technically I’m a bride too.” Even as he said it the word ‘bride’ made him blanch and he immediately countered himself, “Nope, scratch that, never call me that. But why’s T’Pol get to see me and I can’t see her? It’s a bit unfair if you ask me.”
“Well,” Hoshi hummed, “nobody’s asking you.”
“Ha!” Trip scoffed and nearly turned around on the spot. “ Nobody’s askin’ me ! You’re the one who mauled me! You know what?” He held up his hands and shook his head, “Looks like you all got everything well in hand so I’ll be right on off and back to my chambers till I have to come out. Make sure Talla gets back with the other flower children, please and thank you.” He started to walk away before he paused and said, “T’Pol?”
“Yes?”
He could practically hear her eyebrow raise. Amusement curled in the back of his mind and he untensed and grinned.
“You look beautiful,” he said, mostly to antagonize Hoshi, before booking it out of there when his friend threw a cloth napkin at him. Laughter followed his exit and he was still grinning when he made it back to his temporary changing room.
Time moved both agonizingly slow and surprisingly fast.
Up at the altar, looking out at the faces of friends and family, bosses and diplomats, Trip felt a bit unsteady. He wasn't nervous, not at all, but it was a bit disconcerting to just stand there waiting. Phlox gave him a wide smile from where he stood and asked, “Excited?”
Trip chuckled, “You know, you’re the first person all day to ask me that. It’s a…tradition of sorts to ask if the groom’s ‘nervous.’”
Phlox hummed and nodded his head, smiling oh so widely all the while. “I’ve heard! In fact I find it rather amusing. I could never imagine ever being nervous during a wedding! No, back on Denobula weddings are filled with nothing but joy and excitement. Oh, how I wish I can have another wedding, I miss the excitement that comes when it's your very own.”
“Well, maybe you should finally get up off your ass and ask Dr. Lucas.” Trip said with a sly grin and a raise of his eyebrows. Phlox lightly smacked at his shoulder and they both laughed.
A sudden change of the music stopped them and Trip straightened up.
The bridesmaids and groomsmen were walking down the aisle.
T’Pau stood a good meter apart from Travis, who seemed to take the gesture with grace as he continued to smile at the crowd. Next was Malcolm along with a visibly excited Elizabeth Cutler, who had always had a bit of a soft spot for both Trip and T’Pol that he’d always thought was adorable. After them was Trip’s younger brother Albert and Yara, a young science officer that T’Pol had taken on as a protégé of sorts on their current ship. The poor girl had been shocked when T’Pol had asked her to be part of her wedding party, but enthusiastically agreed nonetheless. To top it off was Jon and Hoshi, both beaming with joy like it was their big day instead.
After them was one of Trip’s nephews with the rings, standing up straight and tall with a large grin on his face, preening at the attention in a way Trip never could at that age. When he reached the altar Trip gave his nephew a big hug and kissed his temple, “You keepin’ them safe kid?”
“Yup,” his nephew said even as he nearly tumbled towards Travis.
Trip took a deep breath and slowly exhaled through his nose as he watched. Thankfully, the rings didn’t get lost into a sea of feet.
The flower kid brigade didn’t miss a beat. The twins carefully dropped a single petal at a time, much to nearly everyones amusement, but their full baskets were made up for when Talla and Haruto threw handfuls out towards the guests. A Vulcan got a faceful of petals, but rather than seeming annoyed they gathered the petals from their shoulders and hair and threw it back into the aisle.
Then—
Sure, they’d gotten married the day before, but Trip knew he’d never not be struck by T’Pol. The beauty she held was perfect for the silver screen. She seemed to glide across the aisle with ease. A veil covered her impassive, beautiful face. Trip’s fingers twitched with the want to lift it and kiss her lips.
I love you , Trip thought as he watched her walk towards him. He didn’t know if she could hear or feel the sentiment, but she inclined her head and he felt seen in a way he’d never been with anyone else.
The corner they were in was quiet as guests danced or spoke in large circles. With the relative isolation, T’Pol had felt comfortable enough to climb onto Trip’s lap, sitting there with her head against his shoulder as they watched everyone. Trip rubbed his hand along her thigh, enjoying this moment of peace amid the party.
“I’m still surprised you’re wearing white,” Trip said as he pressed a barely-there kiss to the tip of her ear. “Not a lot of women wear white anymore, you know that right?”
T’Pol traced her fingers over Trip’s. “I had considered another color, but ultimately decided to follow the human tradition. Despite not being a… maiden,” Trip raised his eyebrows and bit his lip which caused his wife to raise a single eyebrow back at him before continuing, “I want you to know that I am as devoted to knowing you and your culture as you have graciously done in the past fourteen years we have known one another.”
“Hey, you’ve done plenty of learnin’ about my culture.” Trip replied as he held her a bit closer to him, squeezing her hip. “You integrated yourself into Starfleet when nobody was real happy to see you around. You’ve stuck by us through thick and thin. You didn’t have to wear white; I already know you’re committed to us.”
She was quiet for a moment before she met his eyes. “You have grown wise in your advanced age.”
That caused Trip’s jaw to drop as he stared at her, affronted, and he watched as T’Pol stood up and walked towards where Soval and T’Pau sat with other Vulcans. She glanced over her shoulder, a gleam in her eyes. Trip stood up and chased after her, an argument already on the tip of his tongue.
Before they left Vulcan, Trip and T’Pol paid a visit to her family’s mausoleum. It was humbling, to enter the space that held the bodies, ashes, and memorials of Vulcans long gone, the dates spanning far past what made sense to Trip’s mind. The longevity of Vulcans was still a bit hard to wrap his head around, even though he knew, each time he looked at his wife who seemed not to age a day in fourteen years, that it was something he would have to face one day.
Despite knowing that her family was also his, that didn’t exactly stop the feeling of inadequacy that struck him as he walked through the building. He followed T’Pol at a sedate pace, head bowed, taking in the engraved names with curiosity.
Their daughter was next to her grandmother.
Trip breathed in shakily as his eyes immediately gravitated towards the photograph of Elizabeth set next to the engraving of her name. There was very few photos of their daughter, but this one wasn’t the one that had been stuck into the new history or biography books that told stories about the Enterprise, the Xindi attack, or the crimes of Terra Prime. No, this picture was much more intimate. It wasn’t purposefully showing the unique Vulcan ears that made Elizabeth out to be a circus act.
Instead, in this photo she was held up against T’Pol’s chest, her big blue eyes staring forward. Trip’s index finger was clutched in her little tiny hand.
That was the closest her ever got to holding his daughter.
He traced over the lines of her name, untranslated into Vulcan except for her middle name, and stared into the picture until he couldn’t see much of anything anymore.
T’Pol set her hand onto his shoulder.
“Not a day goes by where I don’t think about her.” Trip said as he wiped at his cheeks.
“It is the same for me as well.” T’Pol replied as she let Trip wrap his arms around her shoulders. She brought her hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, a steady comfortable gesture that he appreciated. “In a way, according to certain human religious thought, she was and will always be with us.”
Trip laughed, “You’ve been talkin’ too much with my mother!”
T’Pol raised an eyebrow at him. “She is quite insightful, if a little unorthodox even by human standards. However, I find her viewpoint on death to be… comforting. It is similar to a point raised by Surak.”
“And what did good ol’ Surak have to say?” Trip teased lightly, for his benefit more than anything, and raised up his eyebrows as he pulled away from her. Even in a mausoleum the heat was still much higher than he was used to. And as much as he loved T’Pol and wanted to hold her, he knew it wasn’t long before he would start sweating a bit too much for either of their comfort.
“Surak taught that even if a Vulcans katra is not passed on to another or an object, that their living being will continue in the work of their family.” T’Pol said as she reached over to press her fingers over the photograph of their daughter. “Elizabeth continues on in each endevor we encounter. Her presence in our lives, short as it was, has affected our decisions every day since we had her.”
A smile formed on Trip’s face as he watched his wife. He’d never been a religious man, not like his mother had been, but he liked the connection between what his mother spoke about and Surak’s teachings. It felt true.
Better or worse, every decision he’d made since he lost his daughter was because of her memory.
They paid their respects and walked out together, their arms locked, the heavy Vulcan sun beating onto them. Still, despite the heat and his sweat, it didn’t feel so bad. Not when he had T’Pol at his side and in the back of his mind. Not when he felt more secure than he had in the past few years.
He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and grinned brazenly at her when she glanced at him in not-so-obvious amusement.