Chapter 2-
It was late, 2330 hours, when Archer finally settled down with Porthos to try and get some sleep. After he had left sickbay, he stopped by and visited with Crewman Morris in the mess to make sure he was doing all right. The young man was still shaken by the memory of the horrible site he had witnessed close up, but he was dealing with it. Lieutenant Hess had kept him busy enough during the rest of his shift so his mind didn't wander much.
Then the captain had gone over the final investigation report with T'Pol about the engineering accident for an hour or so. It was cut and dry. An accident.
Archer lay stretched out on his bed, on top of the sheet, with Porthos nuzzled up against his leg. He stared out into the darkness and shivered slightly. He reached down and pulled the covers up over him causing Porthos to rise and move up to share his master's pillow. Slowly the realization came to him that the chill was not from being cold.
Darkness. Still and lonely. He wondered what Trip must've felt when he realized he couldn't see. Jon hadn't even remembered until just now that Trip had told him once about his fear of the darkness when he was a child. It was a few years ago, in a gym outside of San Francisco, when they were taking turns doing leg lifts and Jon had asked Trip how he'd gotten that scar on his left knee cap.
That bully, Ron something or other, had tried to scare Trip by sealing him inside a hole dug into a hillside. Jon remembered Trip still exhibited some anger with himself for panicking and sliding back to ram the barrier only to rip his brand new jeans at the knee. His one and only pair of pants for school since his parents hadn't been able to afford much that year.
Jon shook his head as he remembered Trip telling him that he didn't even cry when his father had punished him that night. He had told is dad all about the dare and that he'd done it. But that didn't matter to Charles Tucker the Second. His father had cringed when he heard how Charlie had fainted.
Jon drew in a deep breath. No, Trip said he cried himself to sleep only when his father yanked the nightlight out of the wall and left him in the dark that night. He felt his dad's shame at his son's fear had fueled the only real spanking he had ever gotten and not that he'd ruined his new clothes. That hurt Trip more than anything, to think that his father was ashamed of him.
All his life Trip had tried to make his dad proud of him and he had succeeded. But Jon knew that Trip's dad, although a great guy and supportive of his children, was not a very outwardly emotional man. He was a man of very few words and Jon always felt Trip never really believed his dad was proud of him.
"It's going to be okay, Trip." Jon muttered, sleepily. "You may be in the dark, but you'll never be alone." He closed his eyes as Porthos' slumbered breathing lulled him to sleep.
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"Breathe in deeply." Phlox's voice instructed.
Trip did what he was told, even though he didn't really think it would help. But the doc said it was either that or he'd have to keep him sedated. So, after a few more deep breaths, Trip had calmed down considerably.
"I'm okay now." Trip mumbled. "It's just hard wakin' up. I don't know if I really am awake, you know?"
"Well, you are, Commander." Phlox assured him. "And you really are remarkable at healing. I've been able to observe you after a very intense alien surgical procedure to remove the Xyrillian baby, near fatal hypothermia to near fatal heat stroke. And now these severe burns which, aside from your pain medication, leaves you lucid and quite a handful."
The sickbay doors opened to admit Captain Archer, who heard the latter part of Phlox's statement.
"He's not giving you a hard time, is he Doc?" Archer smiled.
"Hey, Cap'n." Trip turned his head to the right as he heard Archer move to his side.
"He's a bit agitated. But that's understandable." Phlox said.
"How's he doing otherwise?" The captain asked.
"Stable. I changed the bandages already. His hands will take a great deal of time to heal, but they will heal. I will need to do laser skin graphs and skin replacement at a much later time. We still have to wait at least until tomorrow evening to find out about his eyes." Phlox said as he moved off to tend to his critters' morning meal.
Archer looked down at his best friend, wondering what he was thinking. The only indication of any reaction was the occasional licking or pursing of the lips.
"How's the breakfast in this joint?" Archer asked as he eyed the IV dripping slowly next to the bed.
"Not bad, sir." Trip replied. "But the service has lip."
"I heard that." Phlox called back as he moved into his office.
"He gone?" Trip asked.
"Yes," Archer replied.
Trip blew out a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, Cap'n, that I freaked out yesterday."
"Don't even give it another thought, Trip."
"No, no," Trip insisted. "I really am sorry. I don't want ya to think I'm afraid or anythin'."
"Trip," The captain leaned in closely. "I'd be scared as hell if I were in your place right now. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
Trip shook his head. "No, see, I can handle it. Whatever it is. Just not if you thought I was..." He broke off, biting his lower lip.
"Chicken?" Archer finished. "Trip, you know better than that."
"And the accident..." Trip muttered. "I guess just another screw up on my part."
"No," The captain firmly said. "It was just an accident. Not your fault in any way."
"I took my face shield off, Cap'n." Trip countered. "That was damn stupid. Fiddlin' with the controls without any protection."
"Come on," Archer consoled. "I've done it, too. Trip those damn shields are only good for deflecting the bright light. Not for trying to see to adjust the damn torch."
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed entered sickbay now and stopped just inside the door. He was taken aback by the bandages that covered Trip's eyes and hands. Archer motioned the lieutenant closer and he moved to the foot of the bed.
"Malcolm's here." Jon told Trip.
"Hi," Trip managed.
"I'm surprised to see you alert." Malcolm admitted. "I came to see how you were." Malcolm then mouthed out that Hoshi reached Trip's parents.
"Been better." Trip admitted. "What else, Malcolm?"
"Excuse me?" Malcolm asked.
"I heard your mouth clicking." Trip told him. "What don'tcha want me to know?"
"Hoshi's reached your parents, Trip." Archer told him.
"No!" Trip blurted out. "No, don't tell my father, sir. Please?"
Trip began to fidget animatedly, trying to sit up. The captain grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him still.
"Trip, calm down." Archer told him. "You'll pull your IV out."
"But you can't tell him, yet." Trip pressed. "Not until we know somethin' tomorrow."
Phlox came out of his office upon hearing the raised voices and moved to his ever handy hypospray.
"Okay, I promise I won't contact them until we know something more." The captain said.
Malcolm watched as Phlox injected Trip and then retreated back into his office. Archer continued to hold onto Trip, who by that time had rested his head in the crook of the captain's arm. Trip had stopped moving about, but Archer still held on. Malcolm looked closer at Trip.
"Sir," Malcolm addressed Archer. The captain looked up at him and Malcolm pointed to Trip. "He's asleep."
"How do you know?" Archer asked.
"Well," Malcolm tilted his head to the side. "Unless the commander's prone to drooling while he's awake."
Jon looked down now and saw, indeed, a small amount of spittle linked from the corner of Trip's mouth to his uniform. He placed Trip back on the bed and reached for a tissue, gently wiping Trip's face.
"Thanks." The captain said, wiping up his uniform.
"I better get back to the bridge, sir." Malcolm said, turning to leave.
"Lieutenant," Archer stopped him. "Trip's father is a good man."
"Yes, sir." Malcolm replied.
"No," Archer continued. "Malcolm, listen to me. His dad is not a very demonstrative person. He's proud of every accomplishment Trip's made. Even though he appeared at every graduation, every ceremony, Trip's had a difficult time really believing his dad's pride."
"At least his father showed up for those things." Malcolm said, thoughtfully. "But I understand, sir."
Archer regarded his armory officer with understanding. "Malcolm, I know it's hard for you to get close to people. But, I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk, about anything..."
"Thank you, sir." Malcolm nodded. "May I go now?"
Archer nodded and watched the lieutenant leave. He turned his attention back to Trip and shook his head. He wondered just how much of Trip's fear was rooted in his childhood fear of the dark, or his fear of being a disappointment to his father. As he pulled the sheet up a little closer around Trip's chin, the doctor approached slowly.
"Captain," Phlox said in a hushed voice. "I am not one to give false hope. I am a physician. I need to give the facts. So, I will. The most recent scans I have taken show that Mr. Tucker's eyes are healing. That the degradation is not as extensive as I first thought."
"So, he'll be able to see." Archer remarked, hopefully.
"I believe so." Phlox said. "But as to what amount of clarity is unknown still."
Archer watched the doctor and realized there was more this man was not telling him.
"What is it?" Archer asked.
"A patient's frame of mind is just as important as the medical care they are given to recovery, Captain." Phlox finally said. "What fears does this man hide?"
"Well," Archer stammered somewhat. "I don't know that it really would hinder his recovery..."
"Let me be the judge of that." Phlox said, gently.
"He used to be afraid of the dark. When he was little boy." Archer told the doctor. "Something happened that he got into trouble for and his father got angry. Told him he was too big to be sleeping with a nightlight and just took it away one night. Trip wasn't so much afraid of the dark that night, but afraid of his father's anger at his fear."
"I see." Phlox sighed. "A fear that he carries over into his adulthood from what I overheard of his outburst."
"I believe so." The captain nodded.
"Then," Phlox scrunched up his face in thought. "I know I don't have to ask this, but you will be here tomorrow evening when the bandages come off?"
"Doc," Archer sighed. "You couldn't keep me out."
TO BE CONTINUED
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It was late, 2330 hours, when Archer finally settled down with Porthos to try and get some sleep. After he had left sickbay, he stopped by and visited with Crewman Morris in the mess to make sure he was doing all right. The young man was still shaken by the memory of the horrible site he had witnessed close up, but he was dealing with it. Lieutenant Hess had kept him busy enough during the rest of his shift so his mind didn't wander much.
Then the captain had gone over the final investigation report with T'Pol about the engineering accident for an hour or so. It was cut and dry. An accident.
Archer lay stretched out on his bed, on top of the sheet, with Porthos nuzzled up against his leg. He stared out into the darkness and shivered slightly. He reached down and pulled the covers up over him causing Porthos to rise and move up to share his master's pillow. Slowly the realization came to him that the chill was not from being cold.
Darkness. Still and lonely. He wondered what Trip must've felt when he realized he couldn't see. Jon hadn't even remembered until just now that Trip had told him once about his fear of the darkness when he was a child. It was a few years ago, in a gym outside of San Francisco, when they were taking turns doing leg lifts and Jon had asked Trip how he'd gotten that scar on his left knee cap.
That bully, Ron something or other, had tried to scare Trip by sealing him inside a hole dug into a hillside. Jon remembered Trip still exhibited some anger with himself for panicking and sliding back to ram the barrier only to rip his brand new jeans at the knee. His one and only pair of pants for school since his parents hadn't been able to afford much that year.
Jon shook his head as he remembered Trip telling him that he didn't even cry when his father had punished him that night. He had told is dad all about the dare and that he'd done it. But that didn't matter to Charles Tucker the Second. His father had cringed when he heard how Charlie had fainted.
Jon drew in a deep breath. No, Trip said he cried himself to sleep only when his father yanked the nightlight out of the wall and left him in the dark that night. He felt his dad's shame at his son's fear had fueled the only real spanking he had ever gotten and not that he'd ruined his new clothes. That hurt Trip more than anything, to think that his father was ashamed of him.
All his life Trip had tried to make his dad proud of him and he had succeeded. But Jon knew that Trip's dad, although a great guy and supportive of his children, was not a very outwardly emotional man. He was a man of very few words and Jon always felt Trip never really believed his dad was proud of him.
"It's going to be okay, Trip." Jon muttered, sleepily. "You may be in the dark, but you'll never be alone." He closed his eyes as Porthos' slumbered breathing lulled him to sleep.
----------
"Breathe in deeply." Phlox's voice instructed.
Trip did what he was told, even though he didn't really think it would help. But the doc said it was either that or he'd have to keep him sedated. So, after a few more deep breaths, Trip had calmed down considerably.
"I'm okay now." Trip mumbled. "It's just hard wakin' up. I don't know if I really am awake, you know?"
"Well, you are, Commander." Phlox assured him. "And you really are remarkable at healing. I've been able to observe you after a very intense alien surgical procedure to remove the Xyrillian baby, near fatal hypothermia to near fatal heat stroke. And now these severe burns which, aside from your pain medication, leaves you lucid and quite a handful."
The sickbay doors opened to admit Captain Archer, who heard the latter part of Phlox's statement.
"He's not giving you a hard time, is he Doc?" Archer smiled.
"Hey, Cap'n." Trip turned his head to the right as he heard Archer move to his side.
"He's a bit agitated. But that's understandable." Phlox said.
"How's he doing otherwise?" The captain asked.
"Stable. I changed the bandages already. His hands will take a great deal of time to heal, but they will heal. I will need to do laser skin graphs and skin replacement at a much later time. We still have to wait at least until tomorrow evening to find out about his eyes." Phlox said as he moved off to tend to his critters' morning meal.
Archer looked down at his best friend, wondering what he was thinking. The only indication of any reaction was the occasional licking or pursing of the lips.
"How's the breakfast in this joint?" Archer asked as he eyed the IV dripping slowly next to the bed.
"Not bad, sir." Trip replied. "But the service has lip."
"I heard that." Phlox called back as he moved into his office.
"He gone?" Trip asked.
"Yes," Archer replied.
Trip blew out a ragged breath. "I'm sorry, Cap'n, that I freaked out yesterday."
"Don't even give it another thought, Trip."
"No, no," Trip insisted. "I really am sorry. I don't want ya to think I'm afraid or anythin'."
"Trip," The captain leaned in closely. "I'd be scared as hell if I were in your place right now. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
Trip shook his head. "No, see, I can handle it. Whatever it is. Just not if you thought I was..." He broke off, biting his lower lip.
"Chicken?" Archer finished. "Trip, you know better than that."
"And the accident..." Trip muttered. "I guess just another screw up on my part."
"No," The captain firmly said. "It was just an accident. Not your fault in any way."
"I took my face shield off, Cap'n." Trip countered. "That was damn stupid. Fiddlin' with the controls without any protection."
"Come on," Archer consoled. "I've done it, too. Trip those damn shields are only good for deflecting the bright light. Not for trying to see to adjust the damn torch."
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed entered sickbay now and stopped just inside the door. He was taken aback by the bandages that covered Trip's eyes and hands. Archer motioned the lieutenant closer and he moved to the foot of the bed.
"Malcolm's here." Jon told Trip.
"Hi," Trip managed.
"I'm surprised to see you alert." Malcolm admitted. "I came to see how you were." Malcolm then mouthed out that Hoshi reached Trip's parents.
"Been better." Trip admitted. "What else, Malcolm?"
"Excuse me?" Malcolm asked.
"I heard your mouth clicking." Trip told him. "What don'tcha want me to know?"
"Hoshi's reached your parents, Trip." Archer told him.
"No!" Trip blurted out. "No, don't tell my father, sir. Please?"
Trip began to fidget animatedly, trying to sit up. The captain grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him still.
"Trip, calm down." Archer told him. "You'll pull your IV out."
"But you can't tell him, yet." Trip pressed. "Not until we know somethin' tomorrow."
Phlox came out of his office upon hearing the raised voices and moved to his ever handy hypospray.
"Okay, I promise I won't contact them until we know something more." The captain said.
Malcolm watched as Phlox injected Trip and then retreated back into his office. Archer continued to hold onto Trip, who by that time had rested his head in the crook of the captain's arm. Trip had stopped moving about, but Archer still held on. Malcolm looked closer at Trip.
"Sir," Malcolm addressed Archer. The captain looked up at him and Malcolm pointed to Trip. "He's asleep."
"How do you know?" Archer asked.
"Well," Malcolm tilted his head to the side. "Unless the commander's prone to drooling while he's awake."
Jon looked down now and saw, indeed, a small amount of spittle linked from the corner of Trip's mouth to his uniform. He placed Trip back on the bed and reached for a tissue, gently wiping Trip's face.
"Thanks." The captain said, wiping up his uniform.
"I better get back to the bridge, sir." Malcolm said, turning to leave.
"Lieutenant," Archer stopped him. "Trip's father is a good man."
"Yes, sir." Malcolm replied.
"No," Archer continued. "Malcolm, listen to me. His dad is not a very demonstrative person. He's proud of every accomplishment Trip's made. Even though he appeared at every graduation, every ceremony, Trip's had a difficult time really believing his dad's pride."
"At least his father showed up for those things." Malcolm said, thoughtfully. "But I understand, sir."
Archer regarded his armory officer with understanding. "Malcolm, I know it's hard for you to get close to people. But, I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk, about anything..."
"Thank you, sir." Malcolm nodded. "May I go now?"
Archer nodded and watched the lieutenant leave. He turned his attention back to Trip and shook his head. He wondered just how much of Trip's fear was rooted in his childhood fear of the dark, or his fear of being a disappointment to his father. As he pulled the sheet up a little closer around Trip's chin, the doctor approached slowly.
"Captain," Phlox said in a hushed voice. "I am not one to give false hope. I am a physician. I need to give the facts. So, I will. The most recent scans I have taken show that Mr. Tucker's eyes are healing. That the degradation is not as extensive as I first thought."
"So, he'll be able to see." Archer remarked, hopefully.
"I believe so." Phlox said. "But as to what amount of clarity is unknown still."
Archer watched the doctor and realized there was more this man was not telling him.
"What is it?" Archer asked.
"A patient's frame of mind is just as important as the medical care they are given to recovery, Captain." Phlox finally said. "What fears does this man hide?"
"Well," Archer stammered somewhat. "I don't know that it really would hinder his recovery..."
"Let me be the judge of that." Phlox said, gently.
"He used to be afraid of the dark. When he was little boy." Archer told the doctor. "Something happened that he got into trouble for and his father got angry. Told him he was too big to be sleeping with a nightlight and just took it away one night. Trip wasn't so much afraid of the dark that night, but afraid of his father's anger at his fear."
"I see." Phlox sighed. "A fear that he carries over into his adulthood from what I overheard of his outburst."
"I believe so." The captain nodded.
"Then," Phlox scrunched up his face in thought. "I know I don't have to ask this, but you will be here tomorrow evening when the bandages come off?"
"Doc," Archer sighed. "You couldn't keep me out."
TO BE CONTINUED
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