Chapter 2
Trip sat and watched as Mikey was being cuffed and shoved into the back of a police car. Mikey had another psychotic episode while they were heading back to the camp for the night. Trip had suggested that they cut through an alley, that left them directly in front of Starfleet HQ.
Mikey's anger got the better of him and he went on a rampage, screaming about Romulans and cussing at the building, at Starfleet. Trip tried to calm him down and get them out of there, but Mikey had picked up a rock, throwing it at the window, shattering it. The window was the type that it didn't actually break out, and the shattered glass was contained between a coating of a protective poly-seal, but still the damage was done.
Starfleet security held Mikey until the local police arrived and there wasn't anything Trip could do to keep him from being arrested. Trip didn't have the heart to go back to the camp, so he walked, and walked, and walked more.
Trip looked up and found himself in front of a posh hotel, trying to remember a time that he could walk into a place like that and be greeted with warm welcomes and smiles. That was another lifetime ago, and sometimes he wondered if he had just simply imagined that life.
He shoved his hand into his pocket to keep the cold away when he felt the card. He pulled it out, looking at it, and realized this was the same hotel that was on the card Jon had given him. What the hell? Why not? He thought as he walked through the doors.
As he started through the lobby, he was stopped by a security guard. "Sir, you can't come in here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"I'm looking for Admiral Archer. He said to come see him."
"The Admiral is much too busy for the likes of you. Leave or we'll call the police."
"Look, I know Jon Archer. He's...or he was a friend. He told me to come see him. Just call him and tell him that Trip is here."
"I'm not going to bother the Admiral for street trash. Last chance to leave."
"Street trash! I'll have you know I served on Enterprise and helped save your sorry ass from the Xindi, Klingons and a shitload of other hostiles you don't even know about!"
"Uh-huh sure you did, and I'm a little princess ballerina. Out now!"
Jon had exited the lift and started to walk across the lobby when he heard a commotion involving one of the security guards. He didn't bother to look until he heard a familiar voice. He rushed over to the two men. "Ok princess ballerina. He is a friend and I did ask him to come see me."
The guard blinked at Jon. "Admiral? Are you sure?" He wasn't too sure what to make of it.
"Yeah. I'm sure. Come on Trip, let's go up to my room." Jon led him to the lift leaving behind a stunned security guard.
Once they got to Jon's room, Jon made a quick call. "Beth. Call Carol and tell her something important came up and I can't make it tonight. (There was a pause) Yeah I know. Send her some roses and tell her we'll go another night. (Another pause) Ok. See if you can't get tickets for that. Hopefully that will smooth things over with her. Oh! Reschedule my meeting in the morning. I don't know how long this will take, but it's very important to me. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll play it by ear. Ok. Good night."
Trip cocked a brow at Jon. "Beth? Carol?"
"Beth is my assistant. Carol is...a friend."
"Oh...that kind of friend. Did I cause you to break a date? I'll just go."
"No you won't! I can always go out with Carol another night. Besides, I'm really not the symphony kind of guy and being here with you right now is too important. Please sit down and let's talk."
Trip looked around the room and then down at himself. "I don't think I should sit on any of the furniture. Might get it dirty and smelly."
Jon could smell the stale alcohol on Trip, as well as the body odor that made it obvious he hadn't bathed in a while, and he had to admit his clothes were a little dirty. "Don't worry about it Trip. Please sit."
"No. That's ok. I know you're just being polite. I really don't know what I'm doing here. Maybe it's best I leave."
"You're here because you need a friend. Trip, I never stopped being your friend. Why didn't you reach out to me? Why did you let things get this bad for you? Why did you disappear?"
Trip shot him an angry look. "I did reach out to you. I tried calling you but you didn't return my messages."
"What messages? When? I never got any messages from you."
"When you got transferred to the Saratoga. I tried to call you, but you never responded."
"Shit Trip! The Saratoga was during the war! We were out there pretty far. Did you call through Starfleet channels?"
"My Starfleet clearance was cancelled when I was discharged. I had to use civilian channels."
Jon rolled his head up. "Oh God Trip. The Romulans took out the communication buoys. The only thing we were getting through was from Starfleet, and that was relayed through other ships. Shit! Shit! Shit! I can't believe all these years you thought I ignored you. No wonder you hate me right now. Shit! Trip, as soon as we got back to Earth, the first thing I did was call your parents, but they said that you left and they hadn't heard from you in over two years. They had no clue where you were and worried to death! I have the entire Enterprise crew looking for you and they all know to contact me if they get any intel on you. I found out you was in Wyoming, but by the time I got there, you was gone. Then I heard Utah, but the same thing happened. I even went to Florida to see if you might have went back there, but none of your cousins had heard from you. When was the last time you called home?"
Trip shrugged. "Been a while."
"Trip...there's the comm. Call home." Jon pointed to the comm system.
"No. Not now. I'm not up for it."
"Trip. You're mother is worried about you. Call her. That's an order Commander."
Trip's bitterness towards Starfleet took over. "Hey! Fuck you. You can't order me around any more Admiral. I don't belong to Starfleet any more. Fuck Starfleet and fuck you!"
Trip started to leave and Jon grabbed him by the arm. Trip let out a yell. "Ah! Fuck! Watch it! That hurts!"
Jon jerked his hand back. "Trip. I'm sorry. I didnt mean to hurt you. I just don't want you to leave. I want to talk to you. Ok. You don't need to call your mom right now if you don't want to, but the comm is available whenever you're ready. Please don't go. Please stay. Are you hungry? I can have something sent up. You can take a shower and stay the night if you want."
"Humph. Take a shower. Then what? Put these filthy clothes back on? Stay the night? Then hit the streets again in the morning? Naw. I should just go now, be better that way."
"Trip. Why did you come here? Why did you walk into that lobby?"
"I don't know. Mikey got arrested tonight and I just started walking. I didn't even know where I was walking to and ended up in front of this hotel. Hell, I didn't even know it was the same hotel that you were staying in til I pulled that card out of my pocket."
"Mikey?"
"Yeah. That kid I was in line with this morning."
"Oh. What did he get arrested for?"
"Busted the window at HQ. Not so bad though, he'll get a bed and a hot meal tonight at minimum. If he's lucky, they'll pull his report and see he's got problems and send him to the hospital for a couple weeks. Get a month worth of his meds before they release him."
"What kind of problems does Mikey have?"
"Psyciological. War did it to him. Saw and did things a kid his age shouldn't. Fucked him up."
"Why isn't he on medication now?"
"Ran out two months ago. Been going to the clinic to get more, but can't always get in. He got in three weeks ago, but they didn't have any of his meds so they told him to come back later. Been trying everyday since."
"What do you mean you couldn't get in? Why can't you get in?"
Trip looked at Jon in disbelief. "You know...for someone that's part of the system, you have no clue what's going on do you?"
"Apparently not. Tell me about it. Enlighten me."
"They only take so many people. It's supposed to be fifty a day, but most days, like today, it's less. Today they only took thirty. The rest of us were told to try again tomorrow. Hell. We can't always try again tomorrow. Mornings are the best time to beg some credits, when people still have some in their pockets and not pissed off at their jobs."
"Fifty a day? That's bullshit! Who would put such a low number of patients to be seen and treated?"
Trip shrugged. "Some asshole bureaucrat cutting budgets, calling it "trimming fat" I guess. Probably to line their own pockets."
Jon suddenly had a sinking feeling. Was this one of the budgets that he had cut? He made a vowel that he would look into it and make some serious changes. "Trip. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're going through this. But I can help you, if you'll let me. I can get you off the streets and get you whatever medical care you need."
"Yeah? What about Mikey? You gonna get him off the streets? Get him medical care? What about the rest of those people in line? Hmm? And what about the people that skipped the line today to beg some spare credits? What you gonna do for them? Hmm?"
"I don't know Trip. All I can do right now is start with one and work for the rest."
"Then forget me. Start with Mikey."
"This guy is important to you isn't he?"
Trip shrugged "He's my kid brother."
"Kid brother? Trip...after your sister..."
"Not my brother in blood, but he's still my brother. If I hadn't been looking out for him, well...hate to think of where he might be now."
"I get it. Well we know where he is now. Let me make a call and maybe I can get him out of jail."
"No. Don't do that. At least there, he's off the streets tonight. As bad as his episode was, he's probably already on his way to the psychiatric hospital. Best place for him right now."
"Alright. I'll leave that go for the moment. Right now, why don't you hit the shower, I'll call the concierge and have them send some clothes up for you and a hot meal. You'll stay here tonight and in the morning we'll brainstorm like old times to think of ways to help you, Mikey and the rest of them. Ok?" Jon reached out and clasped his hand on Trip's arm. Trip jerked his arm back in pain.
"Trip? What's going on with your arm? Why does it hurt?"
"Nothing. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"Trip, let me take a look at it."
"No. I said it's nothing."
"Trip. Take your coat off and let me see it. Please."
Trip let out a huff and took his coat off then rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Jon could see the area around the prosthetic was chafed, red and slighty swollen. "Oh geez. Trip, take off your prosthetic."
"Jon, you really don't want to see that."
"Yes I do! Take it off."
Trip sighed and removed his prosthetic arm. The nub underneath was rubbed raw and the gauze used to cushion was dirty and blotched with a mix of dried and fresh blood. Jon gingerly removed the gauze and saw how bad it really was. "Oh my God Trip. We need to get this cleaned up before it gets infected. How did this happen?"
"Prosthetic don't fit right. It rubs the skin and does this."
"Why don't you have a prosthetic that fits properly?"
"On the waiting list for one."
"How long have you been on the waiting list?"
"Ten years. Let you know when my name comes up."
"You mean they let you suffer like this for ten years!? How could a reasonable doctor let this go on for so long? Aren't they concerned about infection? Pain? How the hell does this happen? Why didn't you go to Starfleet medical? This happened while you were still an officer. They should be taking care of this."
"The one's injured in the war, that don't need long term or lifetime treatment get priority. Captains and above, regardless of their needs gets the highest priority. The rest of us get sent to the clinic. Starfleet medical don't want to deal with someone for years or the rest of their lives. They don't want to deal with psychological issues either. Getting an infection isn't so bad. I might not get into the clinic, but the hospital has to take me if it's infected. If I'm lucky, they'll keep me a day or two and I can get a couple meals out of them. If I'm real lucky, somebody will forget to lock the supply closet and I can snag a couple of blankets. If I'm really, really lucky, I'll get to leave with some good pain meds and get nice buzz for a few days."
"I'm calling a doctor to come take a look at that. You get a shower. No argument."
"Jon-"
Jon put up a hand. "I've made up my mind, and you know that once I've made up my mind, there's no changing it. Now go get a shower while I call a doctor."
"Yes, Cap'n." Trip said sarcastically as he headed for the bathroom.
XXX
When Trip got out of the shower, he had a towel wrapped around his waist as Jon handed him some clothes. Jon was shocked at the sight of Trip, who had grown so thin, his rib and hip bones showed through, the scars and bruises of his harsh street life mapped out on him.
The doctor looked at his arm, giving him some salve to help heal and relieve the raw skin, wrapping it in fresh gauze and gave him a high dosage of antibiotic for the infection. There wasn't anything he could do about a better fitting prosthetic at the moment. With all the red tape to get approval for a new one, meant that Trip would be on yet another waiting list. Not even the Admiral's weight being thrown around could cut through the red tape. They were back to square one on that front, it made Jon angry at the foolishness of such bureaucracy and he got a slight understanding of Trip's bitterness.
As they ate the meal Jon had sent up to the room, he tried to make small talk with Trip to get some sort of understanding of what he'd been through in his fifteen years. "So, while I have been searching for you, I've seen you been arrested a few times, nothing real serious, want to tell me about it?"
"Mostly public drunkenness or vagrancy. Sometimes on purpose."
"You got yourself arrested on purpose? Why?"
Trip shrugged. "Get out of the cold or rain for the night. Get a bed and hot meal."
"The theft charge in Wisconsin?"
"Got caught shoplifting. I had just landed there and didn't know the good places to beg spare credits yet. I was trying to snag some bread and lunchmeat. Usually don't get caught. Most times if I do, they just take it back from me and throw me out the store, but this store decided to call the cops on me. Oh well. Worst part was I was only put in a holding cell for a couple hours then cut loose. Didn't even get so much as a snack out of it. Shoulda punched the cop. At least then they woulda held me a few days."
"And the public urination charge?" Jon chuckled.
"Hey. When you gotta piss, you gotta piss."
"Yeah. I guess so, but on the side of a police station?" Jon's laughter grew.
Trip rolled his eyes. "I was cutting through an alley. I didn't know it was a police station. Just got a little slap on the wrist for it. No big deal."
Trip changed the subject. "You still talk to any of the old crew?"
"Yeah. Travis got married. Got a kid now."
"Really? He married that reporter girl? What was her name?"
"Gannet. No. His wife, Dianne is a science officer. They met while they were both on shore leave on Risa. They did the long distance thing for a while, then she got transferred to his ship and things really took off from there. Been married almost seven years now."
"That's great. How's Hoshi doing?"
"So-so. You heard what happened with Malcolm didn't you?"
"Yeah. I heard about the Yorktown through news feeds. I think that's when I stopped watching the feeds."
"Yeah. A week before the wedding. Hoshi never really got over it."
Captain Reed and Commander Sato were to be married in a traditional spring wedding, but the week before the wedding day, tragedy struck. Captain Reed's ship, Yorktown, was destroyed by Romulans with no survivors. Commander Sato fell into such a deep depression, she resigned her commission, returning home to her parents in Japan.
"Phlox? He still with Starfleet?"
"No. He went back to Denobula. Had a couple more kids since then." There was a long silence for a moment. "Aren't you going to ask about her?"
"Nope."
"Trip, she misses you. She's just as worried, more worried than the rest of us."
"Yeah. Sure she is. I highly doubt she gives a damn. Got married by now I'm sure."
"No. She hasn't. She really does miss you. She's searched for you as hard as I have, but you're a very difficult man to track down when you want to be."
"Guess that's one thing Starfleet taught well. So what's up with this Carol? Is it serious?"
Jon knew that Trip was trying to drop the subject, so he let it go. "We've been seeing each other a little over a year. Things are moving along."
"How y'all meet?"
"At a cocktail party. Her dad is a retired Admiral that still holds some weight in Starfleet, so he still gets invited to some of the parties. Anyways, she was with him and we started talking and kind of hit it off. Been going from there."
"She Starfleet too?"
"No. Fashion designer. Suits, dresses, magazines, catwalk...you know.
"Yeah. Knowing you, bet she's drop-dead gorgeous too. Wedding in the future?"
"I don't think we're quite at that point just yet." Jon chuckled.
After they ate, Jon watched as Trip moved about the room, peeking in drawers and cabinets. "Liquor cabinet is over there. Help yourself."
Trip rushed over to the cabinet Jon had pointed to and picked up a bottle. He opened it and started to bring it to his mouth, suddenly remembering his manners, he got a glass and filled it with the amber liquid. "Been a long time since I drank from a glass. You always did have good booze. Thanks." He smiled as he took a long drink.
"You can have that bottle if you want. I got plenty more."
"Yeah? You sure you don't mind? This is some pretty good stuff here. Not that gut-rot I usually have."
"I'm sure Trip. Go ahead."
Trip thought about it a moment and carefully poured what was left in the glass back into the bottle, tightening the cap as he slipped it in his duffle bag. "Gonna have to put this in the hole and save it for Mikey when he comes home."
"The hole?"
"Yeah. There's a tree in the Gate Park that has a hole in it. Nobody knows about it except for me and Mikey. Anytime one of us gets something we want to save for later, we put it in the hole. That way it won't get stolen at camp. If they took him to the hospital, be a couple weeks or more before he comes home. Hope I can leave it alone that long."
"When Mikey gets out of the hospital, bring him by for drinks. I'd really like to meet him."
"Yeah. I guess."
XXX
Jon woke in the middle of the night to the sound of noises coming from the guest room. He poked his head in and could see Trip tossing and mumbling loudly in his sleep. It was obvious he was having a nightmare.
"Trip?" Jon reached down and touched his shoulder to wake him, only to stumble back from the hard blow to his jaw.
Trip bolted up yelling. "Get away from me! Leave me alone!" It was dark and Trip couldn't see as he swung wildly.
"Hey. Hey. Trip. It's me. It's Jon. You're safe. It's ok." Jon's quiet, calm voice tried to reassure him.
"Ca-Cap'n?" Trip's mind was in a fog of sleep and his voice thick. "Oh God Cap'n. I had the worst dream. I was homeless, on the streets, and...and there was this guy...this guy." The fog was lifting as reality started to set in. "It's not a dream. Is it?"
Jon turned the lights up to a soft glow as he sat on the bed next to Trip. "No, it isn't. I'm sorry. I wish it were a dream."
"Sorry I decked you, you startled me. You ok?"
"I've had worse. I've woken you up from bad dreams before and you've never done that. Want to tell me about it?"
"In the camps...usually when you get woke like that, it's because someone's trying to steal from you...or do something worse."
"Worse? Like what?"
Trip looked up and gave Jon a cold stare. "What do you think?"
"Oh God Trip. Did somebody...hurt you in that camp?"
Trip looked down at the floor. "More than just that camp. It happens at all of them. Happens to everybody at least once. First time was when I was fresh to the streets. I was in Indiana and some guys jumped me, held me down and called it my initiation."
"Why don't you fight back? Try to stop them?"
"I used to. It's worse when you fight back. Best thing is to just close your eyes and wait for it to be over. Not so bad when you get used to it. If you don't fight back, you might get lucky and they'll throw a couple credits or some food...if you're lucky."
"Trip. You mean...you willingly do that for money or food?" Jon was horrified at that thought.
"No. Not willingly." Trip looked up at Jon. "The only time I do it willingly is so they'll leave Mikey alone. I'll take his place for him. I'll be damned if Mikey gets touched like that."
"Oh God Trip." Jon wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. Trip let out the sobs of pain, fear and anger he had been holding back for years in a hard wave.
