Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek. The lyrics quoted in Part II, III and the epilogue were written by Steven Tyler and are owned by Columbia Records respectively Geffen Records, those in Part I and IV - VII were written by Jon Bon Jovi and belong to Mercury Records respectively Island Def Jam Music Group.

AN: Usually I don't do this big Author's Note thing, but there are a few things I'd like to say before you read this one. First, of course, thank you very much for reading, and I hope I can fulfill your expectations. Then, when you're done, please tell me what you think. I'm not entirely sure about it; it's supposed to be some kind of character study of Reed - or at least it took on that form while I wrote it - but I don't know if I managed the characterization the way it's needed for this plot.

Next thing is that this is no slash. In some later chapters the thought might come to mind, but it's not meant that way.

Last thing: During the story I refer to a book called 'The Metamorphosis' by Franz Kafka. Kafka was a German writer who lived during the end of the 19th and in the beginning of the 20th century. Most of his works are stories in which he basically writes about his father and his difficult relationship to him. In 'The Metamorphosis' there's a guy who wakes up one morning and realizes he has turned into a big insect over night. The book describes the reaction of the family (consisting of father, mother and sister). It was written in 1912 and published three years later.

Okay, enough talk. There'll be seven parts and an epilogue, and I'll be updating about every three days. Enjoy!

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Metamorphosis

by T'eyla

Happiness, it's been no friend to me,

And forever after ain't what it's all cracked up to be

Part I

"It's a girl. We will name her Madeline after your great-grandmother. Yes, I know what you thinking, don't try to hide it. Well, you didn't get lucky. Nobody's going to relieve you from your responsibility as son and heir of this Reed generation. To tell the truth, I would have preferred a boy, too. But it's a girl, and so the responsibility remains with you, like it or not. You're not what I'd like you to be but I'll have to live with you; and you'll have to finally get over your stupid childhood dreams. And, son, I'll tell you one thing: I won't accept any excuses anymore. From now on I don't want you to disappoint me - not ever again. Have I made myself clear?"

-###-

He snapped out of his doze with a start. After a few seconds of confusion he remembered that he was lying on his bunk in his quarters, trying to sleep. What a joke. With a sigh he turned onto his back, staring into the darkness surrounding him. He could make out the dark silhouette of his desk standing on the opposite wall, next to the blurred shadow that was the small shelf where he kept his books. Most of them non-fictitious works, and two or three novels, including Kafka's 'The Metamorphosis'. When he had been in his fifth year of secondary school, his Literature class had read that book. Everybody in his class had hated it, but he himself had read it again and again - well, until his father had decided it was keeping him from studying for more important subjects and had taken it away. He remembered how, a few days later, his father had come to him and said:

"Why would you read a book like that even only once? A man can't change into a big insect over night. It's pointless to write a book about that, let alone read it."

He had been wise enough not to disagree, but the next day he had bought another copy, and this time had kept it out of his father's sight. His sister had called him an idiot because he was risking that much only for a book. Today, he wished he had risked more at other times, too. If he had, maybe he wouldn't be in the situation he was facing now. Pushing his blankets aside, he turned on the lights and got up. He put on the uniform that had been lying neatly folded on his chair. He wouldn't be able to sleep anyway and he was sick of lying in bed and thinking about times long gone. He left his quarters and headed down the dim-lit hallway to the turbolift. It was night on board Enterprise, about 0330 hours, and hopefully there would be no one in the mess hall at this hour so he could get some tea without having to answer any concerned questions.

But when he reached the mess hall he saw that he apparently didn't have any luck these days. When the doors swished open his eyes fell on a person sitting at a table by the window. He considered just turning around and leaving but the person had already seen him. It was the doctor.

"Lieutenant!" Phlox said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Reed forced a little smile. "I can't sleep." He turned to the resequencer, against good knowledge hoping the doctor would just leave him alone. But no such luck.

"Really? For any particular reason?"

Carefully taking his cup out of the resequencer he answered: "No. Good night Doctor."

He turned and was about to leave mess hall when Phlox said:"Stay for a minute, Lieutenant. I have to ask you something."

Reed stopped but didn't turn. "That can't wait until tomorrow?" he asked. He knew he was being horribly impolite, but the last thing he wanted now was a conversation with Phlox.

The doctor said nothing, so Reed turned around. Phlox smiled at him.

"Well, it could wait until tomorrow, but since I don't think you'll be able to sleep if you return to your quarters now and I'm not doing anything anyway, I think now is not a bad time for our conversation."

Malcolm looked at the doctor for a moment, then lowered his gaze and sighed. "Very well, Doctor. What do you want to ask me?"

"Why don't you sit down?" Phlox motioned at a chair next to his own. Reluctantly, Reed took a seat on the offered chair and set his cup down before him. He gave Phlox a questioning look.

"Well, Doctor?"

"The last few days, you seemed... tense, like some problem was on your mind that you couldn't find a solution for. And you seem to have been a little edgy, too, if my interpretation of the mess-hall-gossip is right. As CMO I'm concerned. Is there a problem?"

Reed pressed his lips together tightly."No, Doctor. There's no need to be concerned. The last few days I had a lot of work and little sleep. I might be a little tired but that's all."

Phlos raised his eyebrows."Are you sure? After all, you've been under stress before, but you never reacted like this. I'm not the only one who noticed, by the way."

"Oh? Who else did?"

"Ensign Sato, for example. She talked to me today."

"Yesterday, you mean." Reed sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Then he looked up. "There's no need to be concerned, Doctor. Like I said, I had a lot of work...and there are some problems at home on earth...but it's okay. If you'd excuse me now..."

"What kind of problems?" Phlox asked, looking at Reed who had gotten up.

"My father's...not well. He might not have much time left. Good night, Doctor."

-###-

When he was back in his quarters he gave his bed a short resigned glance before sitting down at the desk. He took 'Metamorphosis' from the small shelf and leafed through it. For no particular reason he had marked the same places in the new copy that had been marked in the copy he'd had from school. They had had to write an essay about it, a characteric feature of one of the protagonists. He'd always hated literature essays because he'd never been able to get more than a 70% and that meant everything between having to stay in his room for a week and a black eye, depending on what mood his father was in when the news reached him. But this essay he had enjoyed writing. He hadn't really understood what the main protagonist of the book was all about - he'd always thought him to be a bit whiny - but he thought he understood his father perfectly. He'd written about him, two times the words aquired, and had gotten a 95%. But in this case, he hadn't cared much about his mark. While writing the essay he'd discovered truths about his own life that had held comfort even years later. No matter how bad he'd felt, the book and the thinking he had done about it always reminded him that there were other people who had coped with the same problems. And even if the person in the book hadn't managed to face them he knew he was stronger, and he knew it would be over one day.

But as he was now leafing through it, catching glimpses of familiar paragraphs and sentences, he wondered if that was true. He wondered if it ever would be over for him. Letting out a deep sigh, he snapped the book shut and stared at it for a moment, then put it back onto the shelf. Glancing at his chronometer he saw that he had a good three hours left until his shift would begin. Closing his eyes he shook his head wearily, then took the book down from the shelf again and, stretching out on his bed, he began to read.

He had just finished the first part when finally his troubled mind gave in to his body and he fell asleep, the book slipping from his hands onto the floor.

-###-

His alarm clock rang an hour later, waking him from a deep sleep. He shut it off without turning the lights on and simply lay there with his eyes closed, considering just going back to sleep and pretending he'd overslept. But his sense of duty made him turn on the lights eventually. Sighing he got up, trying to ignore the dull pain in his head, and picked up the book that was lying next to his bunk. He stared at it for a moment, then tossed it onto his pillow and went inside the head. Looking at his reflection in the mirror he grimaced. The dark circles under his eyes in his haggard face made him look like an underfed racoon.

This will definitely be one of those days, he thought. Sad if you can decide that at 6.30 in the morning.

After showering he felt a little better, or at least more awake, but all the same he was glad that he didn't meet anyone on his way to mess hall. Even when he entered it he saw nobody he knew. Deciding that he really didn't have any appetite he grabbed a big cup of coffee and left the mess hall, heading for the Armoury. When he arrived there the only other person was an Ensign from gamma-shift. Muttering a greeting he sat down at his work station and called up his to-do list for the day. With every task that popped up on the screen his mood dropped by a degree. He looked at the first point: Targeting scanners. Sighing he set himself to work.

-###-

He wouldn't have thought it possible but until 10 am nothing happened that would have proved his earlier prediction for the day. Finding the bug in the targeting system had only taken fifteen minutes and his other work wasn't complicated either. Mostly it was just routine that kept him busy so he wouldn't think about what had kept him awake the last three nights.

And what will keep you awake the next three nights too if you don't come to a decision soon, a voice in his mind spoke up. He quickly shoved the thought aside and went over to one of the consoles to check if gamma shift had already reconfigurated the torpedo launching sequences for the tests that were scheduled for that day. They hadn't. Pushing a few buttons he called up the schemes on the screen and started to change them to the new settings when the Armoury doors swished open. Looking up, he saw Commander Tucker walk in.

"Hi, Malcolm," Trip said with a smile. Reed frowned.

"What are you doing here? We won't be ready for the tests for another two hours."

"A nice good morning to you, too. I need to check something on the test torpedo - if you don't object, of course," he added at Reed's sullen frown. Malcolm gave him another irritated look, then shrugged and turned back to his console. Tucker walked over to the starbord launch tube, shaking his head with a grin.

"Not your day today, huh," Trip stated but when he didn't get an answer he shrugged and started to run his scanner over the torpedo that was sitting in the opening of the launch tube.

They worked silently for some time, the only sounds being the bleeping of the instruments and Reed's stiffled yawns. They both jumped when suddenly the comm chirped.

"Bridge to Lieutenant Reed."

Reed got up and walked over to the comm.

"Reed here."

"I've got a transmission from earth here. It's your sister," came Hoshi's voice from the small speaker. Reed raised his eyebrows.

"I'm preparing the tests of the new torpedos right now. Is it urgent?"

"It sounded like that and I don't think she would be calling if it wasn't," Hoshi said in a tone that showed cleary that she was a little taken aback by Reed's reaction.

"Okay," Reed said, "please put her through to my quarters, I'll be there in a minute." He hit the comm button. "With you permission, Commander?" he asked looking at Tucker who had watched Reed during the short conversation. Trip nodded.

"Of course, go ahead," he said and watched as Reed left the Armoury.

-###-

When he reached his quarters Malcolm sat down in front of his computer and hailed Hoshi.

"You can put her through now."

Seconds later the image of his sister appeared on the screen. Despite his rotten mood he couldn't help smiling, but the smile faded quickly when he noticed how exhausted she looked.

"Hello, Madeline."

"Hi. How are you doing? You look tired."

"You do too. How is he?" Malcolm asked. Madeline shrugged and looked down.

"He's in the hospital now."

"So he's worse?"

"Yes, and the doctor says there's nothing more he can do."

There was silence for a moment, then Madeline looked up.

"Malcolm..." she began, but Reed immediately shook his head.

"No Madeline, you don't even have to ask. I won't talk to him."

"Malcolm, please..."

"No. We already had this conversation three days ago, and my answer hasn't changed."

"Mother won't be able to accept that, Malcolm. She...when I told her you refuse to talk to him she freaked out. I think she cried for three hours. And now that she knows for sure that...that he'll be gone soon she...Malcolm, the only thing she talks about is that I have to make you change your mind. I don't think she'll be able to stand it if you keep up with your decision."

Reed lowered his gaze and shook his head again.

"Madeline, you know it wouldn't change anything even if I did talk to him. Over the last few years I tried again and again but he either ignored me or if he couldn't do that his only reaction was absolute rejection. I called him, it was about three month after we launched with Enterprise, I think. The only thing he did was trying to hurt me in any possible way. I swore to myself I won't do that again, and there's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise."

"It's not for him, Malcolm. I know you wouldn't do it then and I wouldn't either. It's for mother. The thought that he could die without you two even being on speaking terms is tearing her apart. You should see her, Malcolm. She looks horrible."

He closed his eyes in desperation. "I can't. I can't and I won't. He doesn't want to talk to me. He hates me. I disappointed every single hope he ever pinned on me. I wasn't the son to him that he'd been to his father and his father had been to his grandfather. I was sickly, I wasn't top of the class, I'm afraid of the water... I'm the total opposite of what he wanted me to be, and he'll never forgive me for that. And I don't want to forgive him for what he did to you, to me and to mother. He made my life living hell, and I hate him just as much as he hates me. There's no point in trying to talk to him."

"Why do you have to be so damn stubborn? You're not the only one he treated badly. I'm his child, too, remember, and mother had to live with him all her adult life. He treated the rest of the family just the same way, so..."

"But I'm his son!" Malcolm interrupted her heatedly. "I'm his bloody first-born son! I was supposed to fulfill the 'responsibilities as son and heir of my Reed-generation'. I know he wasn't exactly the best father to you but he didn't force you to live your life the way he imagined it. You're only his daughter, maybe he didn't care much about you, but he left you alone. If I hadn't fought him the way I did he would never have let me alone. But I did and that's what he hates me for, and that won't change no matter how little time he has left."

"You're so busy feeling sorry for yourself that you don't see that there are other people who might have problems too! You're determined to have it your own way and don't care who you're hurting. I bet you're glad the time has finally come that he'll be gone soon so you don't have to hide from him anymore!"

"I'm not hiding from him!" Reed cried. He had gotten up and was staring at the screen, clutching the edge of his desk.

"Yes you are! You fled onto that starship where you can hide from him and from your responsibilites to your family, and there you're waiting for him to die so you can finally 'live your own life' without the burden of guilty conscience! Maybe father wasn't that wrong about you after all; you're not only selfish, you're a damn coward as well!"

Malcolm's eyes widened. Slowly he sat down again, staring at his sister.

"If you think so then I don't see any use in continuing this conversation. Tell mother I'm sorry but my decision stays the same," he said softly and hit a button, ending the transmission. Then he simply sat there, staring at the blank screen. He couldn't believe that Madeline, of all people, could have said something like that. That she could think of him like that. He got up from his chair and started pacing. After a moment he stopped before his bed, staring down at the book lying on his pillow. He picked it up and felt the sudden urge to destroy it, to rip it apart so it would never be able to remind him of anything he might not want to remember. Closing his eyes briefly, he let out a long breath. He had to go back to the Armoury. The launching sequences still needed to be reconfigurated, and if he stayed away for too long Trip might get suspicious. Tossing the book back onto his bed he turned and left his quarters.