Chapter Text
January 25, 2155
“…a private memorial service was held earlier today. Medical experts say-”
Elaine Tucker turned off the news, and stared at the darkening evening sky. So this was how the Terra Prime madness ended – with the death of an innocent. She couldn’t find it comforting that it was only the one. Hadn't they all suffered enough in the last year and change? What kind of point did they think that baby made anyway? But that was terrorists for you, thinking their dramatic gesture meant something completely different than what a sane person would see.
Honestly, if humans and Vulcans can make such pretty babies, maybe we should have started years ago, she thought.
She took a sip of her wine. The house was quiet – Charles was upstairs, tinkering with the old camera Albert and Miguel had given him for his birthday. She liked this house, and she liked Savannah, but it felt…guilty these days. “I don't know why you need to move,” Lizzie had said. “It's a 30 minute train ride.” But Elaine liked to be hands on, and this was where the new archive was. And at the time it had felt right - Albert and his boys (globetrotters that they were) had recently relocated again, and Trip was in space, for God’s sake. “It is only 30 minutes,” she'd told her daughter. “We'll still be here all the time.” But they hadn’t been there when she died.
Her reverie was broken by the unmistakable sound of a step on the front porch. She furrowed her brow and set aside her wine glass. Who could that be? The doorbell chimed, and she answered it.
“CHARLES!”
Her husband tore down the stairs to see her standing in front of the open door, staring at his namesake.
Trip looked like hell. He was haggard, red-eyed, his left arm bound in a sling. Maybe that was why she hesitated at first, but then she heard Charles whisper his name, and the dam burst.
The next two minutes were an overlapping babble of questions and exclamations and tears and a three-way embrace between only five arms. Finally Charles regained enough composure to murmur, “We're lettin’ out the inside, honey,” and Elaine nodded and took Trip's good hand to lead him inside so Charles could close the door.
“Trip, baby, what're you doin' here?” she asked.
He sank into the couch cushions as if he never intended to stand again. “I’m sure it's been on the news,” he said.
“Those Terra Prime jackasses?” Charles motioned tersely at his son's wounded shoulder. “They do that?”
“Don’t worry, Dad, they got theirs.”
Elaine rubbed her arms. “Can't stand thinkin’ about you up there dealin' with people like that. At least aliens are, ya know…alien. Humans should know better by now.” She hovered over him anxiously. Lord, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “What can I get you, honey?”
“Some sweet tea'd be nice, maybe.”
She nodded and bustled into the kitchen. Charles eyed Trip carefully. “You didn’t answer her question, son. We've barely seen you in two years.”
“I know,” Trip said. His voice was worn. Elaine reappeared, a glass of tea in hand that he accepted gratefully. “I was at the memorial service, and…I just needed to see y'all.”
“The memorial? Oh, for the baby.” Elaine sighed. “Poor little thing.”
“Her name was Elizabeth,” Trip said softly.
She felt herself smile ever so slightly. “Was it? Well…it's a good name.”
“It wasn’t a coincidence, Mama.” He let out a heavy breath. “What are they sayin' about her on the news? What’s the story?”
The elder Tuckers shared a look. “They’re sayin’ she was a binary clone,” Elaine said, “made with stolen DNA from a Vulcan woman and a human man. The news isn’t givin’ any names, and I can’t say I blame ‘em. I guess those the Terra Prime people wanted it to be scary that we can potentially reproduce, but that's just stupid.”
“Okay.” Trip took a long swig of his tea. “What I’m about to tell you has to stay in this room.”
Another parental look. “’Course,” Charles said.
“The Vulcan DNA they stole came from T'Pol, the First Officer on Enterprise. The human DNA…was mine.”
A dense, blanketing silence filled the room. Elaine’s eyes were huge, and it took her a few false starts to find her voice. “Trip, sweetie…are you saying that little girl was our grandbaby?” He nodded miserably, tears welling in his eyes. She threw her arms around him, pulling him tight, letting him weep.
Charles watched, his own heart keening. It didn’t matter how old they were; it never got easier to see his children hurt. “So you named her Elizabeth,” he said quietly. Trip dashed at his eyes with his thumb, shaking his head.
“Actually, no, it uh…it was T'Pol's idea.”
“Well, that was real sweet of her,” Elaine said.
“It was,” Charles agreed. “But…why you, son? Of all the men on your ship, why was it your DNA?”
Trip dragged his good hand over his face. “Um…T'Pol and me…it's complicated.”
November 17, 2155
“Charles!” Elaine called up from the living room. “We just got a message from Trip!”
He looked wonderful. The image of him on the screen was ebullient, beaming. Elaine hadn’t seen him smile like that in years. She couldn’t help it – she smiled back, hand half extended to touch his smiling face. “Mama, Dad – I got big news and not a lotta time, so I’m sorry in advance for dropping this on you and running but-” He heaved a quick breath, like he was about to dive into cold water. “T'Pol and I are gettin' married! We're gettin' married, and I can’t wait for you to meet her, and I have a ton of news and no time, but I promise I will tell you everything and soon. I love y’all, we'll talk soon!”
Charles and Elaine looked at one another, both more than a little stunned at the shotgun blast of information, trying to parse a verbal response to what they’d just heard.
“I guess it got less complicated,” he said finally.
“Guess so.”