Narcosis: Chapter 6

by Piper

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer and other story notes.

~*~

Dr. Phlox drew the curtain around the bed and approached them slowly. As a rule the Denobulan was not easy to read, but Archer could already tell that this was going to be bad news. Beside him, Trip pushed off of the wall he'd been resting against to hear Dr. Phlox's verdict.

He started on the brightest note. "Ensign Sato will be fine. She was injected with a high dosage of a sedative, but there should be no long-term effects. She will recover shortly. The guards will be fine as well."

He paused, and said nothing more until Archer prompted, "And Ensign West?"

"He's slipped into a coma."

Archer sighed and Trip closed his eyes.

Dr. Phlox gave them a moment to process before continuing, "I think it's clear now that the chemicals they were exposed to are responsible, but my equipment still can't pinpoint anything in West. I have to find out exactly what is controlling their behavior before I can counter it. Ensign Thomas's autopsy may answer some questions."

Archer nodded slowly. Then he glanced towards the corner of the room. "What about Eli? I would have expected to find him by his brother's side."

The doctor and Trip followed his gaze. The younger West was standing by himself away from all the action and hadn't moved since Jonathan and Trip came in. He was staring at some random spot on the wall. Someone had given him an ice pack for his eye, which he was holding listlessly to the bruised skin.

Phlox said, "He helped earlier with Ensign Sato. He's just been standing there for a few minutes now."

"He hasn't even asked if he could sit with Eric?"

"He could if he wanted; I told him as much. But he seems more content to stand there."

"And you don't find that odd?" Trip asked.

"No," Phlox responded. Seeing that they would like more of an explanation he continued, "Their medical records are private of course, but I can tell you that he's likely reliving some past memories and working through them."

It was cryptic, but it was enough for the other two, who already had suspicions about the boys' past. Trip winced in sympathy. "He was really shaken when I found him earlier. I guess it's all catchin' up to him."

They stood in silence for a few minutes, all thinking about the situation they were in. Then Phlox spoke up, "I should get started with the autopsy, Captain."

Jonathan nodded, "Of course. Go ahead."

"Wait," Trip spoke up before he could walk away, mentioning something he had been puzzling through in his head. "Thomas killed herself."

"Yeah," the Captain said slowly, waiting to see where this was going.

"West…when he was threatenin' to kill that crewman, he didn't seem mad. He seemed depressed. When he shoved her away he gave them a clear line of fire—it was almost like he wanted to get shot. And he didn't want Eli there to watch."

"His was a suicide attempt also," Jonathan said slowly with realization. He turned to Phlox. "You think they're all having the same symptoms; that they're just progressing at different rates?"

"But Chelsea went straight to suicidal," Trip threw in before the doctor could speak.

"Maybe not," Phlox responded. "If she just wanted to kill herself, there were much easier and less painful ways available to her. Perhaps she broke the mirror in anger first, and then later decided to use the pieces. I would say it is likely that they are going through the same stages."

"If this is true, then Malcolm…" The rest of that statement didn't need to be said; they were all thinking it.

"We have to find him," Trip said, already turning towards the door.

But Jonathan grasped his arm before he got more than a step away. "I've got most of our off-duty crewmen and officers helping security looking for him. The ship really isn't that big, relatively speaking. They'll find him."

Trip was about to argue, but Phlox interrupted. "Commander, you look a bit pale. Are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine."

The doctor was not convinced. "Have you eaten all day?"

"I had breakfast this morning," he said defensively.

"Trip, it's after midnight. That was yesterday morning."

"Well, I think there was a cup of coffee in there somewhere…"

Jonathan sighed in fond exasperation. "Go and get something to eat, then go to your quarters and get some sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens."

"Sir, are you trying to send me to my room for naptime?"

Leave it to Trip to brighten the mood. Jon fought to keep the smile off his face as he said solemnly, "Yes. I'm ordering it, actually."

Trip had a familiar defiant look in his eyes. "Sure thing, Cap'n. Right after we find Malcolm."

"Trip…" he started warningly, but then trailed off with a sigh. This was useless. He'd seen Trip in stubborn mode many times, and the man would never give in when the issue was someone he cared about. Still, he was worried about his friend's own condition. "Alright, let's compromise. You go get something to eat, and take Eli with you. He looks like he's about to drop, and maybe you can get him to talk to you. Then if we haven't found Malcolm yet, you can join the search."

Jon had no doubt that while Trip wouldn't do if for himself, he would for Eli. And he was right; Tucker finally gave in. He went to retrieve Eli. Despite the young man's current disconnected state, Archer still thought that he might balk at being away from his brother. But he didn't, in fact he was surprisingly compliant. He didn't say or do much, just followed the Commander obediently out of the med-bay.

After the two younger officers left, Archer turned back to Phlox. "Let me know what you find with Thomas. I have a call to place to her father, but I'd rather wait until we know exactly what's going on here. I'd prefer not to tell the Admiral that his daughter committed suicide while there's a good possibility of another reason behind it."

~*~

"You don't look so good, kid."

"You don't look that great yourself, sir."

Trip grinned and shook his head, eliciting a small smile from Eli as well. It was true and they both knew it. They were exhausted and by all rights should have been starving, but they were both just pushing the food around on their plates. Their thoughts were obviously elsewhere.

Trip was still quite worried about Malcolm, but he knew that the Captain was right. It wasn't as if he could get off the ship, and on board there weren't that many places for a tactical officer to hide. He was just afraid they wouldn't find him in time. He didn't want to see another crime scene like the one in Thomas's quarters.

He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the plate. The sooner he shoved this food down his throat, the sooner he could help with the search. He stuffed some potato into his mouth and began to chew, looking up at Eli as he did so.

Jon had suggested that he talk to the young ensign. Eli definitely looked as if he could use someone to talk to. "So how are you holding up?" he asked, projecting just enough concern to get Eli's attention.

He got a very small and obviously forced smile in return. "I'll be fine, sir."

"If the Captain were here, he'd tell you that ya sound just like me. And it wouldn't be a compliment."

The smile was a little more real this time. "Sorry, sir."

After a few moments of silence, Trip tried again. "You do realize we're both stuck here until we clean these plates. I'm not going anywhere, if you want to talk."

"You really want to hear all my problems sir?"

"Yes. I'm good with problems. Lay them on me."

Eli actually laughed. "Okay, but just remember you asked for it." Then he paused. "I don't really know where to start."

Trip shrugged, and then asked casually, "Are you mad at him?"

"Sir?"

"Eric. I know you were shaken after he attacked you. And you were staying about as far away as you could get and still be in med-bay."

Eli sighed, finally giving up on the food and setting down the fork. "How much do you know about Eric and me, Commander? About our past?"

Trip shrugged. "I don't know anything. I might have heard some stuff…"

Eli gave him a small smile for his attempt at tact, then tried to find the right words. "Let's just say Eric's always been my protector, and when we were little he had plenty of reason to protect me. Violence was kind of a staple in our childhood."

Trip nodded, having assumed as much, and not going to force him to relive any details he didn't want to. "And he's still very protective of you."

"You noticed that, huh? Yeah, he is. Sometimes it gets on my nerves. But I know that he loves me and sees himself as responsible for me. He would die before he let anyone hurt me; and he'd never hurt me himself."

Trip was glad to hear him speaking in the present tense, but they had just hit the heart of the problem. "And then he did hurt you," Trip put in gently.

Eli nodded, staring down at his forgotten plate. "I'm having trouble getting the image out of my head," he admitted. "I never thought I'd see him like that. I know it isn't really him, but still…"

Trip leaned across the table and looked into his eyes as he spoke. "You just happened to be there when it kicked in, so you took the brunt of it. Chelsea was alone, so her mirror took the hit. And Malcolm, well, he's not exactly the type to go around beating up his Captain. But even with him, I had to pull him off to stop the attack. Eric had nothing to stop him but himself—and he did. Even in that state, he cared enough about you to overcome it. And when we figure this thing out and get him back to normal, he's gonna be horrified that he gave you as much as a black eye."

"I hope you're right, sir."

"Of course I'm right," he said jokingly, then grew serious again. "You love him don't you?"

"Of course. He's my brother."

"And you believe that he still loves you?"

He thought about it for a moment, but he knew the truth in his heart. "Yeah."

"All right then. Shovel that food down, and we'll get you back there to sit with him. He's gonna need you to pull him out of that coma."

~*~

Archer was back in med-bay a few minutes after Phlox called for him. When he arrived he was pleasantly surprised to see Eli sitting by his brother's bedside, holding one hand and talking to him softly. He crossed to Dr. Phlox and angled his head back to the brothers. "That looks like a good sign."

"For Eli, yes. There's been no change with Eric. But the younger one seems to be feeling better after his meal. Commander Tucker brought him back before joining the search for Lt. Reed."

The Captain nodded, then turned back to the matter at hand. "I assume the autopsy turned up something."

"Yes. Everything was normal until I examined the brain." He turned and walked to the counter and started to reach into a container.

Jonathan realized what he was doing and quickly stopped him. "No, no, that's okay. You can just give me the highlights; I don't need to see it."

Phlox shrugged and pulled his hand back out. "As you wish, Captain. Though it would be easier to explain with a visual aid."

"Just put it in laymen's terms for me, alright?"

"Certainly. The substance they were exposed to, whatever it was, concentrated itself and made it's way to the brain to drastically alter the brain chemistry. As a result, the brain began to bypass some sections and concentrate in others, producing more of some chemicals and stopping production of some."

"Making them act more violently?"

"Without most normal inhibitions, yes."

"And then in the end, creating depression?" Archer asked slowly, catching on and not liking it.

"That is my theory."

The Captain cut to the bottom line. "Can you counter it in the two that are still with us?"

"It should be possible. We would simply have to neutralize the foreign chemical in the brain and restore the normal chemistry."

"There's a 'but,' isn't there?"

"But, I still can't isolate the chemical. No natural substance would do this; it was designed to cause these reactions. The away team described a laboratory. I would guess that these aliens created this as a chemical weapon. I need the specific chemicals to have hope of a counteragent."

"You're telling me that we need to go back to the station."

"I think that is our best chance."

The Captain turned to look at the comatose young man across the room. It took him only a few seconds to make his decision. He crossed to the intercom. "Travis, turn the ship around. We're going back."

"Aye, sir." Mayweather didn't even sound that surprised.

"If it's any consolation Captain, I don't believe it is overriding all of their control. Eric didn't kill Eli when he easily could have; instead he backed off after one punch."

Seeing his line of thought Jonathan added, "And later he was lucid enough that he knew he didn't want his brother to watch him die."

"Yes. And as I understand, the blood evidence in Thomas's quarters suggests that she was bleeding first and actually headed towards the door before turning back."

"So if we can find Malcolm, it's possible that we could talk him down without anymore bloodshed."

~*~

Trip couldn't believe it was taking this long to find the man. Granted, Malcolm might know this ship better than most people—except Trip, the chief engineer knew the ship like the back of his hand—but they had checked everywhere that he could think of. It was as if Reed had vanished. He'd looked or had people look in every nook and cranny he could think of.

And then it hit him. Malcolm would think exactly like he was thinking; he would know exactly where they would look. And he would hide somewhere else…probably somewhere so obvious they would never even think to check. He motioned to the nearest crewman. "Did we check his quarters?"

She hesitated a moment. "I think so, sir. I'm sure we did." But she didn't sound so sure. He sent her back to her own search, and then turned himself to head for Malcolm's room. It was probably nothing; but most people would presume that a fugitive would avoid his own home. They had all assumed he was hiding in the bowels of the ship to avoid detection, and they had probably skipped the most obvious place altogether.

When he arrived at Malcolm's door he drew his weapon and double-checked that it was set to stun. But after seeing what the stun did to Eric, he knew he would be reluctant to use even that.

He opened the door cautiously and ventured inside. It was dark, the only light coming in from the stars through the window. He flipped on the lights and made a quick search of the room. Nothing.

He sighed and went to leave, slightly dejected that he had been wrong. Now he didn't know where to look.

He exited the room and turned to shut the door, his back to the hallway. One second he was looking at the door lock, the next he felt a sharp pain in the back of his scull. Then he was looking at nothing.

~*~

To Be Continued

Note: I am in no way a medical expert. I haven't even had a Biology class in a few years! So while I tried to make it sound realistic and plausible, the medical stuff is really a product of my imagination. It might not be completely accurate.

Please keep reviewing, and thanks to all of you who have been! I love to know that people are enjoying my story!