A/N: This has got to be the fastest I've ever written/updated a story. You guys really make me want to write :) And I'm JennaTripped's hero! -blushes profusely-

Chapter Three

Rather than returning to sickbay to wait for Phlox to return, which could conceivably take a while, Jon opted to run as fast as humanly possible for engineering (Porthos has been quite shocked when his master had slowed down, opened the door, and literally tossed him in, barely taking the time to stop). Jon was panting hard when he arrived five minutes later, but was shocked at the scene before him. Before even entering engineering, he could see the damage – one of the bulkheads in the corridor was missing, revealing a large mess of sparks and wires. Beyond that, Jon could see engineering – through the wall.

He entered engineering cautiously. The med team had quickly spread around, treating the wounded. Phlox was kneeling over a young Ensign who was holding her leg with both hands, a look of intense pain on her face. The limb was broken on the shinbone, sticking out an incredibly unnatural angle, and blood was pouring down her leg.

Jon frantically looked around engineering, searching for his friend. "Phlox," he said, kneeling next to the doctor, "Where is Trip?"

Phlox continued to work diligently on the Ensign's leg. "Several crewmen are with him over there," he said, motioning with his hand towards the back of engineering. "I'm sorry, Captain, but this woman is bleeding to death-"

"Yes, of course," Jon said, rushing to where his friend should be. He saw several crewmen and a medic kneeled around someone on the floor in the corner. Biting back his fear, he forced his way into the circle.

The medic was working frantically over Trip, who was lying on his back, one arm clutched to his stomach. The right side of his face, his neck, his chest, and part of his shoulder was severely burned. He seemed to be awake, however, his eyes wide with panic. His breath was coming in painfully harsh, wheezing gasps, and he was shaking violently. The part of his skin that wasn't burnt red had a similar color to chalk.

"Trip," Jon breathed, pushing the engineers aside so that he could have better access to his friend, but leaving the medic to his work. Trip's eyes turned to his Captain, and Jon saw the raw fear reflected in them. He resisted the urge to put a comforting hand on Trip's shoulder, knowing it would only cause him more pain.

"Jon," Trip wheezed, breaking into a fit of coughing. He turned his head a fraction of an inch and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Jon cringed.

"Shh, Trip, it's okay, Phlox'll be over here any minute now, it'll be fine..."

"Jon...Sorry," Trip whispered brokenly, whimpering. He reached his hand up in an attempt to grab Jon's arm, but his body began to shake even more, and his teeth were chattering. "Sorry I ran." Trip began to cough again, and Jon panicked as his eyes slipped shut. He placed his hand on Trip's good shoulder, shaking him slightly.

"Stay with me, Trip," Jon said in a forced-calm, commanding voice. "It's alright, don't worry. Just stay with me, okay?"

Trip painfully opened his eyes, but nodded his head as much as was possible. He shook again. "So cold."

Jon looked at the medic who was still working speedily over his friend. He looked so young... "Is there anything we can do for him?" he asked. The medic just shook his head.

"No, I need access to the wounds," he said, rushed.

"Make room," came a familiar voice from behind them, and Jon was relieved to see Phlox pushing through the small crowd. "Get him on a stretcher; we need to get him to sickbay. Now."

It was several hours later, and Jon was pacing in the corridor just outside of sickbay. Despite what Phlox had said earlier, he respectfully requested that the Captain stay outside of sickbay, so that he could care for his patients better. Not wanting to put Trip at any more risk, the Captain had remained outside of sickbay, but had not wandered farther than a few meters in any direction from the door. All he could think about was how similar this was to when Trip had been put in a coma. ...I can't handle a repeat performance of that...

Jon heard the sound of rushed footsteps, and looked up in time to see Lieutenant Malcolm Reed rush around the corner, dressed in civvies and his NX-01 jacket.

"Captain!" cried the Lieutenant, coming to a stop just short of running into Jon. "Sir, I've been looking everywhere for you. What happened?"

Jon sighed and ran his hands through his hair, leaning against one of the bulkheads. "The best I could gather from the engineering crew is that one of the plasma conduits overloaded, effectively blowing a hole through the side of engineering," Jon explained, sounding significantly calmer than he felt. "Several crewmembers were caught in the blast, or hit by debris."

Malcolm's eyes widened. "Oh dear. Is everyone alright?" he asked cautiously. Jon looked grim.

"A few engineers assigned by Starfleet suffered some minor cuts, bruises, and concussions. Ensign Patterson broke her shinbone and nearly bled to death. And Commander..." Jon tried to go on, but found his voice catching. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Commander Tucker is in critical condition."

The Lieutenant went several shades paler at that. "Is Trip going to be alright?" he asked slowly. Jon sighed, frustrated.

"I don't know! I went down to engineering when I heard, and he was in a bad way. The top right hand side of his body, down to his chest, was severely burned, and he was having trouble breathing. He coughed up blood, and I think he was in shock as well..." Jon trailed off. He really didn't want to think about it; he only wanted to think of what Phlox was doing to help his friend. "Doctor Phlox hasn't been out in nearly three hours, and I'm about-"

Before Jon could finish his sentence, the doors to sickbay opened, revealing Phlox. His expression did not look overly grim, but Jon was still cautious as he and his Armory Officer turned to the Doctor.

"Well?" Jon inquired. "How is he??"

"I'm not certain yet," said Phlox slowly, taking the time to look each man in the eye. "Commander Tucker suffered third degree burns to his face, neck, chest, and shoulder. He had internal bleeding in his lungs, and half a dozen broken ribs. There was a piece of bulkhead embedded in his shoulder. He's also suffering from a severe concussion, and alarmingly, his body is still in shock. I performed emergency surgery to repair the damage to his lungs and removed the metal from his shoulder, and though I did re-set his ribs, they will have to heal naturally. He fell unconscious approximately thirty minutes after we returned to sickbay, and is currently in a coma."

Jon felt the world fall out from under him. He reached out to the nearest thing to keep from falling – Lieutenant Reed. His breath became shallow.

"Coma?" he croaked out. It's all happening again.

"No, Captain," Phlox said urgently, grabbing Jon away from Malcolm and holding him up himself. "It's not like before. It's reversible; he'll wake up within a week, I guarantee it."

Almost afraid that he'd imagined it, Jon lifted his head to meet the doctor's eyes. They looked optimistic, and Phlox nodded encouragingly at him. "If all goes well, he should be fully recovered within three weeks."

Jon was speechless. He wasn't certain what to do with himself, so he simply continued to stare at the Doctor. "Er...Umm..." he rambled, trying to think. "Oh, uh, are there any risks? What if..." Jon furrowed his brow, still too overwhelmed with relief to articulate himself properly.

"As it stands, my main concern is the fact that the Commander's still in shock. However, I believe it may be the introduction of a large chunk of metal to his shoulder that is causing it. It should stop within the next twenty four to forty eight hours."

Jon nodded in understanding. He smiled faintly at Malcolm, who wore a similar look of relief. "Thank you, Doc," he whispered. "Can we see him?"

"Of course, Captain," said Phlox, sounding much more like his optimistic self than he had for the past several hours. He led the way into sickbay, where several crewmembers were still being treated by the medical staff. He pushed aside a curtain to reveal the unconscious Engineer.

Trip looked like death warmed over. His skin was a sickly grey color, and one side of his face was covered with a thick, moldy looking salve of some sort. He was hooked up to several monitors and machines, and had a few IVs attached to his arm. What shocked Jon the most was the movement. The last time Trip had been in a coma, he'd been dead still. Emphasis on the word dead. This was completely different; Jon couldn't imagine something more disturbing. Trip's entire body seemed to be moving. It was a cross between shivering and muscle spasms. It was almost enough to convince Jon that his friend was really awake, save for the fact that his eyes were utterly motionless.

Malcolm stood at the foot of the bed while Jon sat in the chair next to it, grabbing hold of Trip's cold and clammy hand. Even though he knew his friend wasn't aware of him, Jon squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"You're going to be fine, Trip," Jon said firmly, relief washing over him. "Just fine."

A/N: I know you guys really wanted me to update, but holy wow, this was the chapter that wouldn't write! It took me so long...I've got a massively massive headache. But you guys can all make it better if I've got an Inbox flooded with reviews tomorrow morning! –charming smile-