Words can’t describe how I feel right now. No one could put a voice to it, not even me. I have literally hundreds of languages at my disposal but nothing even comes close. Nothing can compare to my sorrow.

A glance at the chronometer tells me I might as well forget about sleep for the night, I won’t be getting any. So, with a sigh, I throw back the covers and get out of bed. If I can’t sleep, I might as well be doing something with the time.

Sliding my feet into my *very* non-regulation fuzzy slippers, I grab a PADD and my robe. I hope that Chef doesn’t mind me raiding the galley, I need comfort food.

---

You know what the best part is about the mess hall at 0200 hours? It’s almost always empty. The night shift only comes in once to eat their lunch but they’ve already been through here tonight so I know I have a few hours of guaranteed peace and quiet.

Peace and quiet is good. Peace and quiet means I can have the one thing I crave right now, a good cry into a steaming hot mug of cocoa.

Numbly, I go through the motions of preparing it then retreat to the most isolated corner of the room. Curling up on a chair, I set the PADD on the table next to the mug and draw my knees up to my chest.

Resting my head on my knees, I give into the agony of my heart and begin to sob quietly.

I wish I could go home.

“Ensign?” T’Pol’s soft voice is pitched low in deference to the hour but I’m startled nevertheless.

“Su...Sub-Commander,” Hurriedly wiping at my cheeks with the backs of my hands, I jump to my feet. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” She apologizes sincerely, turning to go. I begin to sigh in relief but she stops, regarding me with a concerned gaze. “Something troubles you?”

Give the Vulcan a prize, I think sourly, surprising myself with the bitterness of the thought. But, perhaps, I shouldn’t be surprised. Since I talked with home, my emotions have been all over the galactic map.

“Hoshi?” T’Pol insists, moving closer. “You’ve been crying.”

I’ve never been one to assume I can predict how a Vulcan is feeling, if they do indeed feel, but I honestly think I’m seeing genuine worry for me in her eyes, though, I’m sure she wouldn’t call it that. Nevertheless, I do need to talk to someone, why not T’Pol? She’s the one person aboard ship I can be sure won’t repeat a word.

“My...” A sob catches in my throat, threatening to cut off my speech and I push on. “My mother called...with news.”

“This news,” T’Pol moves to stand before me. “I’m to understand it was not good?”

I briefly shake my head. In Vulcan, somehow that makes it easier to voice the words, I confess, “My grandfather died two days ago.”

The words seem to have a profound affect on her and she drops her gaze for a long moment. Watching her, I’m struck by the feeling that this is her way of honoring the death of a man she’s never even heard of before today, the

gesture is surprisingly touching. After this pause, T’Pol looks at me and, also in Vulcan, murmurs a ritual phrase I’ve read before but never comprehended the immenseness of. “I grieve with thee.”

The sincerity of her words takes them to a whole new level of respect in my mind while bringing fresh tears to my eyes. I lower my head, fighting them back. “The memorial service is this morning.”

“And you are unable to attend.” Her tone is markedly sympathetic and I start to wonder where the real T’Pol is. This woman seems much more conciliatory than the Sub-Commander I deal with daily on the bridge. “No doubt, you find this most distressing.”

“Most.” I agree, resisting the urge to sniffle. It’s bad enough that she’s seen me like this, I refuse to lose anymore of what little dignity I have left to me. “I just wish I had a chance to say goodbye.”

T’Pol doesn’t say anything and, as the silence stretches out between us, I begin to think I’ve offended her. I’m finally working up the courage to ask when she speaks, “I do not understand humanity’s concept of the afterlife as I have not had the opportunity to research the subject. But, unless I am mistaken, physical proximity to the decedent’s corporeal form is unnecessary when one is attempting to communicate with his or her essence. In fact, if I am correct, was not the concept of ‘heaven’ considered to be among the stars?”

She pauses there, obviously waiting for my answer, and I nod slowly.

Secure in this confirmation, T”Pol continues. “With this information, Hoshi, the most logical conclusion would be that you, more so than your family on Earth, are in the better position to, as you mentioned, say goodbye.”

Typically Vulcan, now that she’s said what she wanted to say, T’Pol turns and intending to leave me with my thoughts.

“T’Pol?” I’m not even sure I’ve spoken until she turns back, waiting. “Thank you.”

She nods once then, without responding, departs the mess hall while I pick up my cocoa and turn my gaze to the stars.

---

Y’know, I never noticed it before t’night, but that door chime is damn irritating. ‘Specially at three a.m. Whoever’s out there can wait, this isn’t a ship wide emergency. If it was, Hoshi’d be on the Comm and her voice’s a lot more pleasant to my ears than that chime.

Speaking of, the damn thing is still chirping away. Sounds like some pigeon on narcotics. With a groan, I kick off the covers and get out of bed. Whoever’s out there better have a damn good reason or I’m gonna drop kick ‘em out the nearest airlock.

Well, well, well, look who it is. Sub-Commander T’Pain-In-The-Ass. Looking as composed and alert as if this were the middle of the day, not the damn night. “What do you want?” I growl, rubbing my eyes and squinting at the light.

“My apologies, Commander,” She replies, clasping her hands behind her.

“T’Pol,” I frown crookedly at her, still a little drowsy. “It’s 3-somethin’ in the morning. This’d better be good.”

She frowns ever-so-slightly. “It is not, ‘good’, however, I can assure you it is a matter of great importance.”

Smothering a yawn, I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the door. “What is it?”

T’Pol drops her gaze, unsure of how to proceed, then says simply. “There is a situation in the mess hall that requires your immediate attention.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what the hell she means but our illustrious Sub-Commander doesn’t seem to see any need for further discussion. She nods quickly and does an about face, with such precision it’d have any drill instructor in tears, and walks away.

“A situation in the mess hall?” What the hell did she mean by that? I shake off the conversation, planning to go back to bed, and start to step back into my quarters when I stop. Aw hell, I’m up, might as well go see what’s got her ladyship disturbing the sleep of unsuspecting Starfleet officers.

She did say it was important.

---

T’Pol was right, I may not be able to get home to attend the memorial but I can say goodbye here. Looking out at the stars, it almost feels like he’s here with me.

“Bye, Grandfather,” My voice is barely audible as I press a hand against the viewport and stare out into space.

“Hoshi?”

Trip?

Briefly, I close my eyes, as if I can will him to leave the room by that act. Without looking, I track his progress across the room, his footfalls light. Hesitant.

“You ok?” Oh please, Trip, leave. Please leave. T’Pol, I could handle, she cloaks her concern in logic and non-emotionalism but you? I can’t handle the worry in your voice.

“Fine.” I mumble quietly, not daring to meet his gaze. If I do, I know I won’t be able to hold it in.

Please, Trip, just leave.

---

Looks like T’Pol was right, there is something important in the mess hall.

Hoshi. “You’re not fine, darlin’,” I murmur softly, resting a hand on her shoulder and turning her to face me. Her form is stiff and unyielding under my hand and her gaze is fixed intently on the floor.

“I’m just tired,” she mumbles, doggedly refusing to look up.

“If you were tired,” I point out with a smile. “You’d be in your quarters.”

I brush my fingertips along her cheek, feeling the moisture of tears. “You wouldn’t be cryin’ either.” Placing a crooked finger beneath her chin, I gently, but firmly, lift her gaze to meet mine. “C’mon, Hoshi, it’s me,

Trip, you can tell me what’s wrong.”

She meets my questioning gaze with her own captivating eyes and, in a broken voice, she relates to me the news from home. News of the loss of her grandfather. It doesn’t stop there, soon she is detailing her own feelings about missing the funeral, her own grief, and even about T’Pol’s attempt to console her.

By the time she’s done, I’m leaning back against the wall with her wrapped in my arms and perfectly content to let her stay there as long as she wants. I’ll be honest, I feel Hoshi’s pain intensely yes, but I can’t help but notice she fits perfectly.

It seems, as soon as she’s finished talking, the tears begin. She rests her head against my chest, her slim form shaking slightly as she silently cries.

“Aww, darlin’,” Sighing softly, I cuddle her closer, rubbing her back in an age old gesture of comfort. “Just let it out.” This is, by far, the most heartbreaking scene I’ve ever witnessed. Hoshi doesn’t make a sound as she cries. If it wasn’t for the fact her tears are soaking through my shirt, and the soft shudders as she sobs, I wouldn’t know she was crying. Weeping.

Resting my cheek against the dark satin of her hair, I murmur soothing phrases, wishing intently I could absorb her pain as easily as my shirt absorbs the moisture of her tears. But, since I can’t, I’m going to do the only thing I can. And that’s stay by her side as long as she wants me here.

---

It’s hard to believe that just a few minutes ago, I was silently pleading with him to leave, now, I can’t imagine him ever letting go.

It feels so good just to cry, to let go, a pure release of emotion, I don’t have to pretend with Trip. There’s no shame in losing myself in my pain, no loss of dignity in accepting comfort. No need to feel guilty about being human or enjoying the chance to be in Trip’s arms. There’s just the simple solace and understanding of human comfort and I’m glorying in it.

But, in doing so, I’ve no wish to diminish what T’Pol did for me. In her own Vulcan way, she conveyed her sympathy and consolation with that uncomplicated and eloquent phrase.

I grieve with thee.

In this situation, despite my own pain, I’ve had a rare opportunity to see two cultures expressing their sympathies in unique ways and achieving the same result.

I feel better. It will take some time to accept the grief and loss but I do feel better. I know I won’t be there to attend the service or see my parents but I have said my goodbyes and I have the support of my friends. My family. A strange and unusual family they may be but their caring is undeniable and it is a balm to my soul.

Goodbye, Grandfather, may you find the same peace among the stars that I have.

 

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