A/N: Well, here we are, at the end of another story. It's certainly been quite the journey, and thanks again to everyone who has shared it with me. I hope you've enjoyed reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

After all the angst of my last three stories, I think my next one's going to be quite a bit lighter. My bunnies are already nibbling on a few ideas, and I'll be posting the results up here, as soon as they've finished.

For now, though, I thought I'd end Violations with another, rather long chapter - giving Trip time to reflect on what he's been through, before he starts to find his way to move on from it. And I hope you'll agree that its title is suitably apt.

Thanks again, and see you soon!

Violations

Chapter Twenty Two – Getting From There To Here

"Well, Trippy-boy, you've had one hell of a week."

Through the same wry smile, Trip's mirrored image offered him an equally deadpan response.

'No kiddin'. An' why are you callin' yourself that? You hate that damn name!'

Throwing himself a rueful glare in return, Trip then cast more serious eyes over his reflection. He saw the same, boyishly handsome face. The same bright blue eyes. The same neatly trimmed, tawny blond hair.

Outwardly at least, he was the same Trip Tucker who'd joined Starfleet. Who'd worked his way up through its ranks, to the coveted post of chief engineer. The same Trip Tucker who'd answered his best friend's call that night, and yelled so loud himself that they could have heard him back in Panama City.

'Trip, I've got it. I'm going to captain Enterprise. And remember that promise I made you? That I'd get you out there one day? Well, now I'll get to keep it.'

Inwardly, though? For what he'd just been through, did he feel the same inside? Well, he thought through a reflective sigh, that was still very much a work in progress. As both Jon and Phlox, and even T'Pol, had gently told him, he wasn't going to bounce back from this overnight. It would take time for all the scars on his psyche to fully heal. In respective turns, they'd told him it would be too much, unwise, and illogical, to try and convince himself otherwise.

The message from all three of them had been unmistakeable. Coming to terms with this experience was going to take time. With equal parts of loyalty, trust, and gratitude, Trip had already agreed that he'd take their advice, and take his continuing recovery one day at a time.

He wasn't so naïve as to think it was going to be easy. Yes, he'd come a hell of a long way since Jon had helped him, so very gently, to remember what had really been done to him. But there was still a hell of a long way to go.

His ongoing sessions with T'Pol were certainly helping. But not even the calm quiet of meditating could fully beat back the demons that still continued to plague him. Every day swept him into a different tide of emotions. Lifting him high one moment, and bringing him crashing back down the next. And it was that, more than anything, that he found so damn frustrating. Such a drain on the cheerful optimism that he'd always felt before. That he wondered, sometimes, if he would ever fully feel again.

Three days ago, he'd been a traumatized victim, struggling to come to terms that he'd been physically and mentally raped.

Two days ago, he'd come face to face with the Xyrillian scientist who'd violated his body and mind, and condemned him to hellish imprisonment for the rest of his life.

When he'd returned from the Kellen, and all through yesterday, he'd stayed in his quarters. With Jon, as ever, at his side, he'd wrestled with his conscience. Fought to balance the satisfaction he'd felt for that moment against the natural compassion, the trust and faith in humanity, that formed so much of his character. Broken down, in helpless tears, for the hybrid child he'd been used to create.

Yes, Ah'len had lied about that too. After they'd removed her from his body, there'd been no other 'host' to transfer that innocent baby into. Instead, she'd been dumped in a tank with all the other 'products' of Trena'l's horrific research. And, like all the others, she'd died before she'd even been given the chance to live.

As naturally horrified as he'd been, Phlox had gently tried to explain why. Too many genetic differences, between Xyrillian and human DNA. In layman's terms, she'd been doomed as soon as she'd been created. And yes, he'd known that DNA had been taken from him without any kind of consent, by means that his senses had been thankfully spared.

'Most likely while you were unconscious, Commander... while you'd be incapable of any resistance.'

Yet however it had happened, whatever heritage had created her, he'd still fathered a child. A daughter, that he'd never come to know, or love, or see to grow up. Like every newly bereaved parent, the grief for her loss was still too raw for him to even start to process it.

Today would be better, he promised himself, staring once more at his reflection, as if trying to convince himself with his own words. A turning point in the recovery that had been, still was, so very painful.

"Today, I'm gonna stop being a victim, an' start bein' a survivor."

Again, he'd spoken aloud to his own image. Again, that image sent its more encouraging reply through his healing mind.

'Damn straight you are.'

There was another smile too, this time. An easier smile, that spread wider across his face as he gave himself a final checkover. Gently polished the three pips on his uniform. Picked some non-existent lint from his sleeve. Squared his shoulders, and looked the chief engineer of the starship Enterprise straight in the eye.

"Okay, Tucker, enough of all this mopin' an' maudlin'. Time to get out there, an' start doin' the job you came out here to do."

Before he could talk himself out of it, Trip took a deep breath, then another. Then, for only the second time since he'd told a stunned, horrified crew what had really been done to him, he left his quarters.

He knew where his feet would eventually take him, of course, but - no, not yet. Little hurdles first, before he tried to tackle the big ones. As childhood curiosity, and his long suffering mother, had gently taught him, a three foot kid could never hope to clear a ten foot wall.

Not that he hadn't tried, of course. Hell, he still had that damn scar on his cheek to prove it.

Still smiling at the memory, Trip headed instead for the first of those 'personal hurdles.' Through coincidence, or maybe even subconscious choice, he knew where it would be.

He knew that Jon would have already eaten, and would now be settled into the duty he'd been destined to fulfil. Whether he'd taken his breakfast in his quarters, or his own private mess - well, it didn't really make any difference. Trip knew the main mess hall, where he'd endured so much of that whispering gossip over his 'condition', would have quietened down now, after its traditional, morning rush.

By the time he'd reached it, the two startled ensigns he'd encountered en route had already excitedly spread the word.

'We've just seen Commander Tucker! Yeah, he looks fine, he told us he was going to get some breakfast.'

The result? Well, not exactly the quiet, inconspicuous entrance that he'd hoped for. As soon as he appeared through its doors, a wave of cheering applause almost knocked him straight back through them.

Everyone who then left their tables to greet him did so with both delight and relief. Welcoming hands clapped him on the back. And just to make this moment just about perfect, Chef left his beloved kitchen, and personally delivered a freshly made plateful of bacon, eggs and grits.

Until he finished the last delicious mouthful, Trip hadn't realized just how hungry he was. And, more to the point, how much he'd missed the company of this new, already close knit family.

It was, as Phlox would no doubt say, just what the doctor had ordered. A lovely feeling, that gave him all the incentive he needed to find more of the same.

To his slightly less awkward delight, the reaction in Engineering was even louder. It took ten clear minutes for his teams to bring their CO up to speed on what he'd missed. Everything from status reports, their latest letters from home, to the winners of that week's poker games. Enjoying it too much to even try to get a word in edgewise, Trip just sat at his control station, and savoured every moment.

When, finally, they all drifted back to their duties, he then quietly called Anna Hess back to re-join him. From her expression alone, she knew what was coming.

"Even if you did fry 'em like my momma's catfish... thanks for takin' care of my engines."

He'd almost, almost, managed to keep his face straight. Even without that twitching smile, those mischievously bright eyes, Anna wasn't fooled for a second. No, she was as relieved, and grateful, and happy, to see him as all of them were.

"Good to have you back, sir."

"Thanks, Anna. It's good to be back."

He'd meant it, too. Safe in the environment that he loved like home, Trip had never been more grateful as he was now, just to sit quietly at his station, and drink in the sights and sounds around him.

Two down, he proudly told himself. Two down, and one to go. After calling in again on the mess hall - damn, he really was hungry - Trip headed for his third, and final, stop.

Glancing instinctively towards the turbolift's opening doors, Malcolm did an astonished, elated double take. Turning in response to see what he was looking at, Jon did the same, and broke into an equally broad smile. And at the helm, Travis had a grin on his face that could have powered the warp engines for the rest of the year.

T'Pol's reaction, in contrast, was typically calm. But the slightest tilt of her head still expressed everything that her Vulcan discipline couldn't let her say aloud.

No, that rush of emotion came from Hoshi. Bypassing all protocols, and even her own Captain's standing orders, she rose from her seat, strode across to him. Found the answer to her silent question shining in his eyes. And, after the slightest hesitation, wrapped her arms around his neck.

To everyone who saw it, whether through human eyes or Vulcan, Trip's reaction said it all. As soon as Hoshi started to hug him, his arms wrapped themselves around her in return. Welcoming the contact between them. Embracing it, in every sense of the term. Resting his head on top of hers, blond against black, they stood together - held in the same special bond that they'd forged on the Axanar ship.

If not for the proud amusement that both eventually sensed around them, they'd have stayed there even longer. As it was, Trip still kept his arm around her as he met his Captain's proudly approving eyes with a pricelessly sheepish grin.

"Permission to come onto the Bridge, Cap'n?"

As quiet laughter, and a wryly raised eyebrow told him, it was kinda too late to be asking that.

'You're already on it!'

Still laughing, Jon strode over to him. Placed both hands on his shoulders, and, so very proudly, welcomed him home.

"Absolutely, Commander. Absolutely."

More seriously, Jon knew the courage it had taken for Trip to come here. And, more to the point, he done it on his own. When he'd last stood on this Bridge, he'd been forced to reveal his 'condition' in front of everyone on it. Suffered its complete humiliation, not just from their reactions, but those of a Klingon crew as well.

Now, though, it was a thankfully different story. Through a silent exchange of concern and courage -

'You okay?'

'Gettin' there.'

- Jon had no doubts that, in time... yes, he would get there. From the look of wonder that now spread over Trip's face, that journey had just taken a massive leap forward.

"Wow! Would you just look at that?!"

Turning to glance back at the 'that' in question, Jon grinned too. Savoured the pure joy in Trip's eyes, while he remembered when he'd first seen it.

'Damn, Jon, just - just look at her! She's - She's beautiful!'

From his first sight of Enterprise, to the breathtaking nebulae, and planetary system, that lay that now lay ahead of her - yes, this was the Trip Tucker he'd always known. The insatiably curious child, held inside an equally curious explorer's body. And Jon knew what his friend was going to ask, before the idea for it even planted itself inside Trip's mind.

"Yeah, it's quite something, all right. And that planet to the left there looks to be class M. So, Commander - you up for a little exploring?"

Taking that priceless 'now-who's-askin'-a-dumb-question?' glare as an affirmative, Jon then nodded towards Travis, giving him the order he had to make, before his chief engineer did it for him.

"Take us in, Travis. Slow and steady."