Mementos
Posted on Wed Sep 19th, 2018 @ 3:00pm by Lieutenant Commander Angus Murphy
Mission:
A Majestic Affair
Location: USS Majestic
Timeline: MD 9, 2330 Hours
2644 words - 5.3 OF Standard Post Measure
It'd been three days since the kiss in the arboretum. Three days that seemed to stretch on as long as they possibly could because Murphy had yet to come down to visit Patrick again. He hadn't taken him up on the offers of lunch. He hadn't even returned a message. He'd been busy with a lot of things, but those were merely excuses that he listed off to himself to keep the feelings of guilt away. He didn't want to hurt Patrick, but things were more complicated now.
Murphy was alone in Cargo Bay 3, putting the finishing touches on a sleeping unit for Lhaes Sommers' kids. It was a low-priority project, but he was behind on it and it needed to be complete and installed before the ship's launch. He took a break from the work and sat down in one of the three bed slots in the unit he was working on.
Of course, Patrick knew where the man was at, having cheating by asking the computer to tell him. He already had the feeling he was being avoided, yet he didn't really understand why. He was carrying a small tray with a plate and a cup, carefully balancing it on one had as he walked in. "You're working late," he announced, approaching the chief engineer.
Murph looked up at the sound of the voice. The cargo bay was full of supplies and materials for the beginning of the mission but the with all the hard surfaces of the crates, Pat's voice echoed around several times until it faded away. The engineer gave a smile and pushed himself to his feet. "So are you, apparently? Delivery?"
"Of course," Patrick smiled, handing the small tray over. "There was some dinner left over and I figured you probably forgot to have any. It's nothing special though, vegetables, potatoes and some steak. And cheesecake for dessert." He sat down next to him, looking up at the contraption. "What's this?"
"Beds for the Sommers clan," Murph answered, stepping back and taking a look at it. "It's a little bit of a tight fit, good thing they're small." He looked down at the tray in his hands and picked up a vegetable, popping into his mouth and chewing it. "Thanks, I appreciate this."
"Sommers?" Patrick shook his head and chuckled. "Small world, I worked for his sister back on my last assignment. She owns a restaurant on Cheron base and I worked there before..." He broke off, shaking his head again. "Anyway, small world huh?" He pointed at the food. "Do you like it?"
Murphy'd been sort of paying attention as Pat talked, but seemed distracted. At the mention of the food, he gave a nod. "It's wonderful. He took a strip of meat and chewed on it. "How does fresh meat work once we're in space?" he asked.
"It doesn't," Patrick admitted, "but when we get into ports I'm sure I can somehow acquire a few batches and I can keep some in storage for special occasions but otherwise.." He shuddered. "Replicated will have to do. I can't keep tonnes of meat in storage. Unless you want vegetarian all the time?" Patrick shook his head. "Don't know about you but I do prefer to have some meat."
"You're talking to the guy who likes replicator food, remember?" Murphy smirked. "Vegetarian is okay too... I'm really not that picky. I'm pretty much the easiest guy to get along with in the sector."
"So I've noticed," he tapped the plate, "and easily pleased too. Is there any food you absolutely loathe? Anything you'd rather not see on your plate?"
"Beets, liver, anything Klingon," Murphy replied between bites. "How's the uh... kitchen thing going? People liking it?"
"Oh yes, its very busy," Patrick smiled, "the mess is packed for most lunches and it's getting busier for dinner too. Breakfast remains quiet but that's understandable." He beamed up at the man. "I have you to thank for making this possible. I'm very happy, and I'm getting occasional help from Tox too. She brings fresh vegetables from hydroponics."
"It's my job," Murph replied with a shrug as he set the empty plate down. He seemed like there was more he wanted to say, but couldn't find the words.
"It's your job," Patrick agreed, leaning over to retrieve the plate, "but you went quite above your job to get it done quickly. I do have a question though..." Looking up, he hesitated. "I feel like you're avoiding me. Why?"
Murphy gave a visible grimace. "Things are just... complicated. You know. The more I try not to be complicated, the more complicated it becomes."
"I don't understand..." He set the plate aside and shifted a little closer. "How are things complicated? Have I done something wrong?"
"Wrong? No." Murph looked at Pat and felt conflicted. He felt awful that he'd been unable to reconcile his own feelings. Everything felt like it was spiraling away. After a moment, he offered, "Do you have a few minutes? Let me show you."
Patrick nodded. "I have a few minutes," he acknowledged.
Murphy led Pat up two floors to the main engineering corridor and then to his quarters, where he paused before opening the door. He felt like he needed to explain before they went in, but he didn't know how or what words would even be adequate, so he gave an apologetic shrug and then pressed the open button and motioned the man inside and followed him in.
Upon entering, the light came up to a normal level and they were greeted by a man lounging on the sofa, who seemed surprised to have visitors. "Murph, you didn't tell me you were bringing someone home with you."
Patrick stared at the man, just simply stared for several seconds before looking back at Murphy. "How is this possible?" He asked, "you said he died..." He frowned in confusion, looking back at the handsome male sitting on the couch.
"I'm most certainly not," Marty said defensively as he got up from the sofa and charged over to the pair, looking between them for answers. "That's not even funny."
"Marty," Murphy put his hand on his husband's arm. "I need to talk to Pat for a minute. Can you go into the other room, please."
Marty complied, but threw Pat an obvious look of disdain as he left.
"Pat, I'm sorry. I know how this must look," Murphy started to say. "He's.. he's definitely not alive. That is a hologram."
"This is your home," Patrick answered slowly, ignoring the hologram's look of disdain. He paused, searching for the right words. "If you need a hologram of your husband, then that's your prerogative. I can hardly tell you not to do this, I don't have any right to do so." After all, he still had his husband's blanket to help him sleep so who was he to judge? "But I would ask you why...why cling to someone who is no longer here? Again, I have no right to ask this so you don't have to answer but.." The younger man hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. "I'm not sure what to make of the signals you're giving me."
"It's not like that," Murphy started to say, defensively, but then relented after a moment. "Or maybe it's exactly like that. I don't know. I didn't intend for it to happen, but now that he's here..." He walked over to one of the windows, placed his hand onto the window frame and stared out into the stars.
"You don't want to let him go," Patrick finished. He walked up to Murph, gently turning him around. "It's okay," he offered understandingly, "just don't forget about those that are still here." He reached up to cup his cheek, running his thumb over the minute stubble on his jaw. "I really do understand, and I wish sometimes that I had a hologram of Andy. But I'm glad I don't or I'd never be able to move on." He paused, offering an uncertain smile. "And if you need me, I'm here."
"It was an accident. A happy accident, maybe, but I am going to undo it," Murphy said, leaning his head into Pat's touch a bit. "Thank you." He paused a second. "For just being here."
Patrick smiled, keeping his hand in place a fraction longer before withdrawing it. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised, stepping a little closer, leaning up to kiss him. "Not unless you tell me to."
Murphy let the kiss happen, but it was clear he still felt some internal conflict about it. When he stepped back, he nodded and gave Pat a soft smile. "I'm not going to tell you to leave."
"But you're not asking me to stay either," Patrick realized, "I'm not sure what you expect of me Murph. I'm feeling like you're pushing me away anyway. You told me you had feelings for me, and I'm returning them. What are your expectations? Do you want me to stay?"
"I do," Murphy replied softly. "I want you to stay. I also want Marty to stay. Those two things are not compatible... and I know I'm only holding onto an echo with him. A memory--"
As though on cue, Marty stepped back out from the other room, unable to stop himself from overhearing and processing the conversation between Pat and Murphy-- a conversation where his husband was exploring real ideas of leaving him. "I think it's time for you to leave." He motioned Patrick to the door with the business end of a phaser pistol -- the phaser pistol that Murphy kept in a bedside drawer.
"Whoa..." Patrick froze as he stared at the armed hologram. He looked sideways at Murph. "Maybe...it's time to move on," he suggested, "and if you want me to stay then I'll stay. I understand the need for memories, trust me Murph, I really do. But I can't compete with a hologram..."
"Okay, okay," Murphy said, raising his hands and realizing immediately that whatever-random personality traits Drunk-Murphy thought it best to program the hologram with, were probably not right. In a way, it helped because this was not at all the Martin Redfield that he knew and once loved. This was something else now. "Computer, paus--"
Holographic reaction times were fast and Marty was quick to catch onto what was about to happen. He swiveled his aim from Patrick to Murphy and pulled the trigger, taking down the man with a heavy stun in mid-sentence.
"Murph!" Patrick cried out, catching the man before he could hurt himself in his fall. He momentarily forgot all about the still running hologram as he eased the engineer down to the deck. He was no medic but even he could see where the beam had struck him, even if he didn't know what setting the weapon had been on. "Murph?" he asked, gently shaking him, before looking up. "That was unnecessary," he spat out, wondering if the computer would respond to his commmand to turn the program off. "Computer, end program," he ordered.
The phaser fell harmlessly to the padded floor when the hologram disappeared.
Murphy began to come to several seconds later, looking up into Pat's concerned face. "Well, that was... something," he said, cringing a bit at the pain of the phaser burn. "Lesson here is never keep a phaser stored on a kill setting, right?"
Patrick pushed him back down to the deck. "If that was set on kill you'd be dead," he deadpanned, trying to open the man's uniform jacket with trembling fingers. "I need to see how bad it is. How bad does it hurt?"
Murph didn't resist Pat's efforts to assess the medical situation. As his uniform jacket was peeled aside and his shirt lifted to reveal a moderate burn to the stomach, he said sincerely, "I'm really sorry that happened... did he hurt you?" he asked, suddenly realizing that Pat may also have been injured while he was unconscious.
"No. I deactivated him as soon as he shot you." Patrick examined the burn for a moment. "Where's your medkit?" He gave him an earnest look. "Why did he shoot you, and not me?"
"I guess he was upset at me?" Murphy wondered aloud at the question and motioned to a wall cabinet. "I don't know... I'm just glad he didn't hurt you."
"Me too..." Leaving him for a moment, Patrick got up to retrieve the medkit. "You're lucky I do know how to treat burns," he chuckled, "you're going to be sore for a little while though, as I can only do basic stuff. I'm no healer after all." Carefully, he ran the dermal regenerator over the affected skin, until the burn was gone. "Shouldn't that thing have a safety feature?" he asked, nodding over to where the phaser had been dropped after the hologram vanished.
"I don't know," Murphy replied, only half paying attention to the question as he watched the burn wound being healed and was thinking about the trouble this was likely to get him into. "It was a dumb mistake all around. I'm really sorry."
"Don't be," Patrick replied as he put the medical device away. "It's your home, you can run any program you want." He lightly ran his fingers over the now smooth skin. "I'm just glad it didn't get worse..." He leaned over the prone engineer, their noses almost touching. "I'm glad you are alright now..."
Murphy was quiet for a long moment, but he eventually nodded. "I am. Thanks. Who knew you were so good with a dermal machine?" He moved to sit up, feeling well aside from the still-tingling sensations in his skin. "I'll have to let the doctor know, when I see her. Maybe she'll conscript you into her first responders team," he smiled at Pat. It made it easier that he was here and he was understanding, but he still felt guilty for putting him through it. "Maybe some day we can agree never to talk about this again," he chuckled. "I hope, anyway. That there's a some day for us."
Patrick moved to sit back as Murphy sat up, giving him some room. "We need not discuss this again if you don't want to," he promised, "and we'll see where the future will take us. For now, I'm here for you." He smiled. "I mean, right now."
Murphy thought about that a second as he moved to stand up and dust himself off. "Talking about it is probably what I need to do. I suppose that's what the counselor would say."
From his position on the floor, Patrick looked up at him. "That's what counselors are for Murph. I'm happy to talk about Marty, just not ah....the hologram."
"I hadn't really considered them different things until you just said that," Murphy said, offering his hand to Pat to help him up. "That's a good distinction."
Accepting the hand up, Patrick got back to his feet. "I aim to serve," he smiled, "preferably food though. So...what do we do now?" It was getting really late after all. "Do you want me to stay? Here, I mean. I'm happy to sleep on the couch..."
"You don't have to sleep on the couch," Murph murmured and held open his arms. "But I'd be happy if you would stay."
"I think I should," Patrick said as he walked into the open arms. Resting his head against Murph's shoulder, he sighed softly. It felt so good to be held. "I'll stay," he whispered, "I want to stay."
Murphy kissed the top of Pat's forehead and didn't say anything. He had no more words and, with Pat, words didn't seem necessary in that moment.
Patrick O'Malley
Chef
pnpc Lhaes
Lieutenant Murphy
Chief Engineer
USS Majestic
