Chapter 13
"Call the Vulcans, Jon." Trip was looking in his direction, a smile playing about his lips. Jon wondered how his friend found the strength to still be smiling in this situation.
"I'm not going to do that, Trip."
"Soon you won't have much of a choice anymore, Jon." Trip was lying completely motionless, not a single muscle moving in his body. Jon took Trip's left hand, the one that had responded to his slight squeeze only a few hours ago. Now it was lying limply in his own hand.
"I'm not ready to give up, Trip. And you shouldn't be, either."
Trip looked at him for a moment, then grimaced slightly.
"What is it, Trip?"
"My back's itchin'. These biobeds aren't exactly comfortable."
"I know." Jon wished he were able to help Trip in some way. Getting up, he looked around for Phlox.
"Is it really necessary that Trip stays here in sickbay all the time?" he asked him when he found him at his computers.
"I'd like to keep Commander Tucker under observation," the doctor said firmly.
"But you can't do anything for him."
"Unfortunately, that is correct. All the same I am not willing to release Mr. Tucker to his quarters. It would be irresponsible to leave him alone in his current condition."
"Of course. But I could take him with me to my quarters. He doesn't say it, but I'm sure he's sick to death of this place."
Phlox pursed his lips. "If you will take care of him, Captain, then I have no objections. I will tell a med team to take him to your quarters later on."
"That won't be necessary, doc. I can take him with me right away." Jon was already turning around when he paused. "Can I move him, doc? I mean, without hurting him?"
"As long as you don't bend his joints in the wrong direction, there won't be any problems, Captain. Besides, the Commander's sensual nerves are still functioning properly, so if you hurt him, you will notice."
"Thanks doc. That's quite reassuring to know." Jon sighed deeply.
"Hey, buddy, what do you think of a quiet evening with your Captain?"
Trip raised his eyebrows. "Define quiet evenin'."
"Having some supper, talking, maybe watching the new water polo match Forrest sent me. And if you behave yourself, maybe I'll let you stay overnight."
"Sounds good." Trip smiled sadly. "Jus' watch out the crew don't get wind of this."
"That'll stay our secret." Jon smiled as well, but as he picked up his friend's limp body, he had to blink away a tear. Trip didn't need to how he felt at the moment.
Trip was no light burden, but the biggest problem surfaced as they arrived at the door of the Captain's quarters. Jon had no idea how to punch in his door code without dropping his friend.
"You didn't plan this mission right, Cap'n," Trip teased. "Wouldn't have happened to Malcolm, he'd have placed one of his guards here half an hour in advance to have someone to open the door for him." The grin disappeared from his face. "I'm not fragile or anythin', Jon. I won't break if you just put me down."
Sighing, Jon let Trip's legs slide to the floor and quickly punched in his door code before his other hand lost its grip on Trip's upper body. As they entered the room, Porthos came bounding towards them, barking happily and jumping up at Archer's legs.
"Not now, old boy," said Jon, carefully letting Trip down onto the bed.
"Who'd've thought I'd end up in the Cap'n's bed one day," Trip quipped sardonically. Jon looked at him, patting Porthos on the head. "What is it, Cap'n?"
"Facing this situation... how can you be joking all the time? I think I'd be losing my mind."
Trip chuckled. "Who says I'm not? It just doesn't show."
"This can't be what you're actually feeling, Trip. I'm not buying that. I mean, since yesterday, one part of your body after another started refusing to obey you, and you couldn't do anything but wait for it to happen. Dammit, Trip, you can't move a single finger and you're acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world."
Trip was silent for a moment, biting his lip. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Jon patiently waited for him to begin talking. Finally, Trip looked up at him. "You know, when we came back from that moon and Phlox told me he couldn't do anythin' to help me, I thought my life had come to an end. And it was even worse when it became clear that the cure wouldn't work. I did come close to losin' it." Trip snorted. "My God, I was lyin' in that Jeffries Tube, bawlin' like a baby. But every time when I tried to quarrel with my fate, when I screamed at it why somethin' like this was happenin' to me of all people, it got me once more. I've been goin' through so many emotions these last few weeks, I just can't keep this up. I'm past it. Hope. Disappointment. I've scooped the last bit of these feelings outta myself, there's nothin' left. I don't know what's gonna happen next, it's as if I was standin' next to myself, as if I was watchin' all of this happen to somebody else. It happened so fast, my mind still has to catch up with what's goin' on. It's all closin' in on me, and I can't do anythin' but accept it. So I think I have to at least keep the one thing that's left to me. Optimism and a little black humor. There's one good thing about it: I won't have to worry how to get outta bed, and I won't have to worry about shavin' before I attend a briefin'. I won't have to worry about anythin'."
Trip's voice faltered, and a single tear ran down his temple towards his ear. Gently, Jon wiped it away. Trip looked up at him. "I won't say I'm feelin' good, Jon, but I can take it somehow. At the moment. Might very well be possible that in an hour I'm annoyin' hell outta you with my constant whinin'. But you know, even worse than bein' a picture of misery is bein' a cryin' picture of misery. I don't wanna do that to you."
"I wouldn't mind, Trip," Jon said quietly. "If you feel like crying, then cry. That's what friends are for."
"You're almost cryin' yourself, Jon. D'you think I'm not seein' that? I know how you're feelin', and that's alright, too."
Jon smiled and patted Trip's shoulder.
"You're gonna manage a few minutes without me? I'll get a few things from your quarters."
"That's alright, I'm not goin' anywhere. Porthos is keepin' an eye on me."
As Jon came back to his quarters, Porthos was lying on the bed next to Trip, the dog's muzzle resting on his hand. Looking at them made Jon feel like crying again, and he quickly ran a hand over his eyes.
"I got a few clean clothes from your quarters," he said.
"You don't have to do that. I can sleep in this stuff just as well."
How the hell did Trip know exactly what he was thinking? It would be a quite awkward task to change Trip, and Jon felt uncomfortable at the thought, but he had started this, and he was going to do everything to make his friend feel comfortable. "Is it okay with you to let me help you?"
"Is it okay with you to help me?"
Jon nodded, smiling sadly. "I'll do it, I just don't know how to." Jon put Porthos down on the floor and sat down next to Trip, pushing up his friend's t-shirt. "Tell me if I'm hurting you."
"Didn't you listen to Phlox? Just don't bend my joints in the wrong direction."
"You heard us?" Jon managed to get Trip's arms out of the shirt's sleeves.
"It was kinda hard not to listen. Maybe I should have put my hands over my ears."
"I don't know if I like your jokes, Trip." Jon pulled the shirt over Trip's head and put it aside. "Well, let's get you ready."
Jon washed and changed Trip, then called messhall for some supper. As he saw that Chef had prepared his favorite dish, Trip raised his eyebrows.
"Why ever do I get the feelin' that'll be my final binge?" he muttered.
"That's nonsense, Trip," Jon said, smiling. "Chef only wanted to do something nice for you. Now come on, open your mouth."
"I already heard that today. Is that in your job description, Cap'n? Washin' and feedin' your second officer?"
"No, that's in the description of my duties as a friend."
"And how long do you think you'll be able to keep this up?"
"As long as it's necessary." With his fork, Jon stabbed a piece of catfish and put it into Trip's mouth.
"You're a starship cap'n, Jon," Trip said calmly. "You can't take care of me on a regular basis. Starfleet's quickly gonna put a stop to that."
"Starfleet can't tell me what I'm doing in my spare time. I'll be damned if I let you lie there in sickbay all the time. And I'm sure there are other people on Enterprise who feel the same way. You got lots of friends here, Trip."
"Yes, and I'm grateful for that, really I am. But in this condition I can't stay here, and sooner or later you're gonna realize that, too. You can't stand up against Starfleet forever. And Starfleet don't care about friendship, they care about what I can do aboard this ship. And at the moment all I'm doin' is bein' in the way and bein' a burden to all of you." Trip looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "Maybe the Vulcans can put me in stasis when they're comin' to pick me up. It's one thing bein' dependent on my friends, but on the Vulcans..." Trip trailed off, swallowing.
"If it comes to that, we're going to take you home with Enterprise, Trip." Jon knew that there was no use in keeping telling Trip he wouldn't let it come to that. Jon had to follow the orders of Starfleet Command, and he was aware of the fact that by now he was fighting a lost battle. Forrest had agreed to let Trip stay onboard Enterprise, but that had been a week before now. Since then a lot had changed. Both of them knew that a completely paralyzed man couldn't stay aboard a starship, even if he happened to be the best friend of the Captain's. But Jon wouldn't hand Trip over to the Vulcans. That was out of the question. He wouldn't do it, even if Forrest demoted him to crewman second class. "The Vulcans are not an option," he said reassuringly.
His friend nodded. "I appreciate that, Jon."
Archer put a glass of ice tea to Trip's lips, then wiped his mouth and put aside the plates. "What about watching that water polo game?" he suggested.
"Later, Jon. We need to talk. Could you turn me on my side?"
"Sure. Do you want me to ask Hoshi if she'll massage your back?"
"No," Trip said, smiling at the thought of the young woman. "I need to tell you somethin'."
"I'm listening."
Trip paused for a moment. Porthos jumped back onto the bed, trying to lick Trip's face, and Jon pulled him back. "Come on, stop it. Lie down." Jon took one of Trip's hands and put it onto Porthos' side. Trip blinked.
"Cap'n, if the poison's gonna progress even further..."
"There's nothing much left it can still do to you," Jon said bitterly.
"That's not true, Jon, and you know it."
Jon thought of Phlox saying it probably wouldn't be long until Trip wouldn't be able to move his head anymore, but that wasn't what his friend was referring to.
"You know what might happen next." Trip's voice was absolutely calm.
"Phlox didn't say anything," Jon said, pretending he didn't know what Trip was talking about.
"He doesn't have to. Jon, if it becomes clear that my respiratory system's gonna be affected..."
"Don't say that, Trip."
"We need to talk about this, Cap'n. Even if it's only a what if. I don't want Phlox to hook me up to any machines."
Jon flinched. The image of Trip hooked up to a resuscitation tube was horrible, but what Trip was saying was even worse.
"You're not asking me to stand by and watch you suffocate." Archer's voice sounded hoarse.
Trip bit his lip. "Jon, my life's over. Look at me. What could it still give me? Lyin' motionless the whole time and bein' a burden to everyone around me? You know I can't do that. Not in the long run. Not for the rest of my life. I can't ask you to actually help me committin' suicide, and I won't do it, either, but I can ask you to simply let me go. With the last bit of dignity that's left to me. Please, Jon, don't let Phlox shove a tube in my throat and keep me alive by force."
"You don't know what you're asking of me."
"I do, Jon, I know what I'm askin'. I know, because it would be just as bad for me if it were you lyin' there. It would be one thing if I were in a coma, with a slight chance of wakin' up, but like this, fully conscious and without hope of improvement... you can't do that to me, Jon. Not if you're my friend."
"I am your friend." Jon swallowed. "But... you can't simply wait for suffocation."
"Maybe Phlox can give me a sedative, so I won't be around when the end's comin'. I'm sorry, Cap'n, I'm sorry for doin' this to you, but I'm doin' it to all of my friends. But it'll be for the best, for me, for you and for my family. You're gonna talk to my parents, okay? Tell them I love them."
"You can tell them yourself, Trip. All of this is only hypothetical. It's not certain that the poison's going to affect your respiratory tract."
"With my luck it is."
"No, Trip, don't make yourself think that." Jon paused. "Or maybe that's what you want?"
"I don't know, Jon. I don't wanna die, but I can't live like this, either. I think we'll have to leave it to fate what's gonna happen to me. But if bad comes to worse, then please... just let me go."
"I don't want to lose you, Trip." Jon didn't try to keep the tears at bay anymore, they were running down his cheeks as he gently picked Trip up and pulled him into a hug. Trip's hand slid off Porthos' back, and the dog, almost getting caught between the two men, gave a small bark. "It's your decision, Trip, and I'll respect it," Jon whispered, anguish in his voice. "If it comes to that. I'll talk to Phlox tomorrow."
Trip rested his head on Jon's shoulder and looked up in his friends face which was wet with tears. "Thank you, Jon. I appreciate it."
Jonathan Archer was sitting on the couch in his quarters, watching Trip who'd finally fallen asleep. Porthos was again lying beside him and hadn't moved a single time since Jon had once more put Trip's hand on the dog's back. It seemed as if Porthos was aware of the fact that the touch was important to Trip, and that the hand would slide off his back if he were to move. The conversation he'd had with Trip kept coming back to his mind. Of course he too had thought of the possibility that the paralysis might affect Trip's respiratory tract, but he hadn't dared to finish the thought, let alone talk about it. Losing Trip in this horrible way would be unbearable. How was he supposed to go on without Trip? How was Enterprise supposed to function without Trip? It couldn't be the same without Trip's charming smile, without his jokes, and above all, without his knowledge. Trip was an exceptionally gifted engineer, the best in the whole fleet. But what use was all that knowledge to him if he wasn't able to move?
Jon felt a terrible sadness take hold of him as he let his eyes wander over the thin form under the covers. They'd known each other for eight years now, had stuck together in more than one tight situation and had even saved each other's life a couple of times. But now, there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do against fate, a fate that had it in for Trip and wasn't bound to let him go. The worst thing about it was watching Trip suffer. And Jon knew that Trip was suffering. On the outside, it seemed as if he had accepted what was going on, maybe even came to terms with it, but Jon knew that being as helpless like this was almost more than Trip could take.
He heard a sob coming from the direction of the bed. Then another one. Trip was crying in his sleep. Porthos raised his head, turning around so he could lick Trip's fingers. Jon got up, intending to wake Trip, but then decided against it. When awake, Trip kept the tears at bay, kept his pain to himself. But it was crucial for him to shed these tears. Gently, Jon wiped the wetness off Trip's face. "It's okay, Trip," he whispered. "It's alright."
Jon gave Trip a thoughtful look, then shrugged. Quickly, he stepped out of his uniform and crawled under the covers next to Trip, who was still lying on his side, his back turned to Archer. Jon put an arm around his friend, pulling him into a consoling hug. Slowly, the sobs subsided.
As Jon opened his eyes, he realized he was still holding Trip. Obviously, he'd slept next to him the whole night. Carefully, so as not to wake him, he pulled his arm back and got up.
"Hope ya didn't do anythin' tonight I'd have to tell my mom about."
As he heard the amused voice, Jon turned around. "Hey, you're awake." He forced a small smile. "You were crying. I thought a little comfort wouldn't hurt you." Jon stretched. "What about breakfast?"
"Sounds great."
Jon went over to the comm panel, calling the galley and ordering their breakfast. Then he pulled the covers off the bed. "I'll get you to the bathroom," he said.
When Jon put an arm under his friend's back, beginning to pick him up, Trip's head suddenly lolled backwards, startling Jon despite Phlox' warning. Involuntarily, he pulled his hand back, and Trip fell back onto the pillow. "Dammit."
"I'm alright, Jon," Trip said placatingly. "Should've told you."
"How long do you know?"
"I noticed sometime durin' the night."
"You should have woken me up."
"Why? You were fast asleep and snorin'. And you couldn't have done anythin' anyway. Maybe it'll be best if you get me down to sickbay right away."
Jon pressed his lips together, shaking his head. "Phlox can't take care of you any better than I can. I'll just have to watch out. Besides, breakfast is on the way already."
Two hours later Trip was ready to return to sickbay. Jon didn't like being forced to bring him back, but he had to tend to his duties as a captain. He opened a comm link.
"Archer to Lieutenant Reed."
"Go ahead, sir."
"Please come to my quarters, Lieutenant, Trip and I could use some help."
"On my way, sir."
Trip turned his eyes to look at Jon. "You could ask Phlox to send a med team to get me."
Jon shook his head. "I got you here, and I'll get you back." He picked up his friend, careful to let Trip's head come to rest on his shoulder. "I wonder if Malcolm's gonna be happy about his new career."
Trip chuckled. "Oh I'm sure he'll love playin' door opener for us."
With Malcolm's help, Jon brought Trip back to Sickbay, putting him down on his accustomed biobed. "Stay with him," he told Malcolm in a low voice. "I need to talk to Phlox."
"Ah, Captain, there you are." Phlox entered the room, a smile displaying on his face. "How is Commander Tucker this morning?"
Jon took the doctor by the arm, guiding him out of Trip's hearing range. "It's happened, just like you said it would. He can't move his head anymore."
"Unfortunately, that was to be expected."
"Doctor, I talked to Trip yesterday." It was kind of hard for Jon to begin. Everything within him was screaming at him to shut up, not to tell Phlox what he had to tell him. He licked his lips. "He thinks that the poison's going to affect his respiratory tract as well."
If Jon had been hoping for a reassuring headshake on Phlox' part, he was being disappointed. Phlox only fixed him with an questioning look. "Yes?"
"Is there a possibility that this will happen?" Jon asked, alarmed.
"Yes, Captain, unfortunately there is."
"And what are the odds that it'll occur?"
Phlox tilted his head to one side.
"Doc!"
"I'd say, about a eighty five percent that it will happen."
Jon stared at Phlox, his eyes wide with shock. "So, you're saying you're expecting it?"
"Indeed, Captain."
Archer began to pace. "How soon?"
"Considering the progress of the paralysis so far, in all likelihood sometime this afternoon."
Archer stopped in his tracks, turning around. "Today?" he exclaimed.
"Yes, Captain. I'm sorry, but I can't do anything. I have already prepared the respirator."
Jon ran a hand over his eyes. He felt so tired. Could it be possible that it might be still today that he had to let Trip die? It had all happened so fast. But he had to keep his promise. "He doesn't want that, doc."
"Captain?"
"He doesn't want you to hook him up to the respirator."
"That would mean his certain death."
"Yes, doc." Jon looked Phlox in the eyes that widened in outrage.
"I cannot allow that."
"Yes, doc, you can allow it. I promised Trip."
"It is Commander Tucker's express wish?"
"Yes, Phlox. It isn't easy for me, either. But I can see Trip's reasons. Just look at him. We can't do that to him."
"Suffocation is not an easy way to die."
"He's hoping that maybe you could give him a sedative. It's the last and only thing we can do for him, doc. We owe him that much."
Phlox nodded slowly. "I am so very sorry that I can't help the Commander in any way, Captain. If I saw only the slightest hope of improvement, I wouldn't allow this that easily. But there is no prospect of finding a cure anytime soon. I will do what you say ."
"Thanks, doc." Jon's voice was choked with tears, and he had to swallow a few times before he returned to Trip's biobed. He nodded as Trip looked at him questioningly and put a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "Stay with him, Lieutenant. Enterprise's going to manage without you for today." Malcolm gave him an astonished look, and Jon knew that he should tell him about Phlox' assumption. But he just couldn't do so. "I'll come back later."
As he pressed the panel to open the door, he heard Malcolm's voice. "What do you think of a game of chess? I'll move your pieces, and I won't let you win." Maybe it was for the best that Malcolm wasn't aware of the fact that in all likelihood, his friend was going to die still today.
TBC