Disclaimer: see Part 1

Shifting Ground – Part 5

Beep. Beep. Beep. The monotonous drone of the medical instruments was starting to drive Jonathan Archer crazy, but there was no way he was leaving sickbay. There was no way he was leaving Trip. He had been sitting next to his best friend's biobed for nearly two days now, alternately dozing fitfully and watching the steady rise and fall of Trip's chest as he breathed - the only movement he made. Archer was well aware that by being here he was only fuelling the gossip that was already circulating the ship. But he no longer cared. Let the crew think what they wanted. All Archer cared about now was the man lying in front of him. Even Enterprise seemed unimportant by comparison.

Dr. Phlox had treated all of Trip's injuries as soon as he had returned to the ship. However, the head trauma he had sustained, although mild, meant that it was uncertain when he would wake up. Phlox had suggested that Archer talk to Trip, hoping that the sound of his voice might trigger a response. So, for two days, Archer had talked, relating anecdotes from both before and during the time they had known each other, and expounding on his hopes for the future of Enterprise and her mission. But it didn't seem to be working. Trip remained as unresponsive as ever, and Archer started to despair.

"Trip, I wish I knew if you could hear me," he said. "I can't bear the thought that all that's left of you is an empty shell. I don't think I can do this without you. I know Enterprise is supposed to my dream, but I've come to realise that without you here to share it with me it just seems hollow and meaningless." The hand that Archer held in his own remained motionless, and suddenly he grew angry. "Damn it, Trip. I won't let you do this. I won't let you give up. Not when so much is at stake. Oh Trip," he sighed. "I wish I had had the courage to say these things to you before this. I should have said them eight years ago, but instead I wait until you're at death's door. What sort of friend does that make me?" Death. The word echoed over and over in Archer's head. "Trip, you can't leave me," he said desperately. "I need you too much. I…I love you."

Abruptly, Archer stood and walked away from the biobed. 'How pathetic,' he berated himself. 'Saying all these things when it's probably too late. You don't even know if he's still in there.'

But his self-loathing was interrupted by a slight moan from behind him. Spinning around, he was faced with the sight of a very groggy and confused Trip Tucker. Archer dashed back over to the biobed. "Doctor, he's awake," he yelled.

Dr. Phlox emerged from his office, and immediately started pressing buttons on the console beside the biobed. "I am happy to announce that Mr. Tucker has made a full recovery," he said finally. "He will need plenty of rest for the next few days, but that is only to be expected. Yes, I am very pleased indeed." He bustled around for a few more moments, before retreating back into his office and leaving the two men alone once more.

Archer immediately resumed his place next to the biobed, but reluctantly restrained himself from taking Trip's hand again. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Like a buildin' fell on me," Trip replied with a grin.

Archer smiled back, but then his face grew serious again. "I thought I'd lost you," he said quietly.

"I know you did," Trip said, equally quietly.

"Huh?" And if Trip hadn't hurt so much, he would have laughed at the confused look on his Captain's face.

"I heard everything," he confessed wonderingly. "I may not have been able to talk, but there was nothin' wrong with my ears."

"Oh," Archer said softly. He made to rise out of his seat but Trip, summoning up all his energy, put out a hand to stop him.

"Don't go, Jon," he said, and Archer looked up sharply at the use of his first name. "Five minutes ago you said that I couldn't leave you, that you needed me. That you…loved me," Trip continued. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" he asked.

Deeply uncomfortable, Archer hesitated. But the look in Trip's eyes compelled him to reply. "Because I knew you didn't...don't…feel the same way," he said eventually. "Friendship may not have been enough for me, but it was all I had and I couldn't risk losing it. Having you as a friend is better than not having you at all," he finished.

For a split second there was a dead silence as Trip processed the information he had just received. Then he started to laugh, although it quickly subsided into an exclamation of pain. Archer opened his mouth to call for the Doctor again, but Trip waved him silent. "What a pair we are, " he said finally. Thoroughly confused by now, Archer remained silent, waiting for his best friend to explain himself.

"You've been keeping quiet so as not to risk our friendship, right?" Trip continued. "But what would you say if I was to tell you that I'd been doin' the same thing?" he asked.

"I think I'd say it was too good to be true," replied Archer, trying desperately not to get his hopes up.

"Well, there you are," stated Trip.

'To hell with this,' Archer decided suddenly. 'I'm never going to know if I don't take the risk.' "Are you saying you feel the same way about me?" he asked cautiously.

Trip broke into a huge smile. "And he scores!" he exclaimed. "Of course I do, you moron," he said. "You know, Jon, for a Starfleet Cap'n, you can be incredibly dense sometimes."

"Well, I figure I have to give you a break from the responsibility occasionally," Archer joked in return. But suddenly his laughter died. "Seriously though," he continued. "Do you really mean it?"

"I've always meant it, Jon," replied Trip. "Right from the day I met you."

Archer looked into Trip's eyes and saw nothing but the love he was proclaiming written there. Then his confusion returned again as Trip chuckled. "Now what?" he asked.

"I just remembered, I had this whole speech planned out," said Trip. "About how I knew what you felt for me and how I felt the same way. After all, it wasn't like I had anythin' better to do while I waited for you to come to my rescue," he joked.

"But how did you know?" asked Archer, puzzled. "I thought you said you heard me when I told you how I felt just now."

"That was just confirmation," Trip replied. "I knew how you felt as soon as I saw the look on your face as you tried to pull me out of the transporter. But you couldn't, and so I got to torture myself with thoughts about how I'd never see you again when I'd only just found out that you loved me."

"Damn," said Archer suddenly. Angry tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"What?" asked Trip, alarmed.

"Just look at how much time we've…I've...wasted," Archer said angrily. "And then I almost lost you."

"Hey," said Trip soothingly. "It's as much my fault as yours. You weren't the only one who kept your feelings hidden, remember. What a pair we make," he finished, repeating his earlier statement.

Archer smiled wryly, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. "It's just that when I think about how long we've known each other and never said anything…"

"Then let's not waste any more time," Trip interrupted him. "I may be confined to this bed," he continued, "but there's one thing I can still do at least." So saying, he placed his hand on Archer's shoulder, pulling the other man towards him. Their lips met, softly at first, but then with more passion as each tried to make up for eight lost years in a single kiss. When they finally broke apart Archer was breathing heavily and Trip was flushed.

"Wow," said Trip. Then he grimaced. "Oh, I wish I wasn't so beat up," he groaned, shifting frustratedly.

"There's plenty of time for that," said Archer, smiling at the evidence that proved that Trip very much wished he were more mobile, although not necessarily on his feet. Gently, he kissed his friend…now lover…again. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too, Jon."

The End