A/N: Oh goodness! I'm sorry I took so much longer than before to update. I made a series of spam posts, and now things are evening out. Plus I had a series of midterms... It'll be more steady from here on out, but not so frequent. I may do some writing over the weekend, but chances are I won't be able to post until Monday (sorry!). Many thanks to my reviewers.

Chapter Four

It had been a little over two days since the explosion in engineering. Since he was officially on leave, Jon had spent most of his time in sickbay with Porthos, sitting next to Trip's bed. He would impatiently wait for his friend to awaken, all the while reading, or staring into space, or holding Trip's hand, or playing with Porthos. He'd go back to his quarters for a few hours rest feeling frustrated, and wishing desperately that Trip would wake up.

The worst part of the past two days was the communiqué he'd sent out shortly after Phlox had given him Trip's prognosis.

"We're putting you through now, Captain."

Jon waited, staring blankly at the screen. He still wasn't sure whether this was the right thing to do or not, and he didn't really know what he was going to say. But his heart had told him to do it, and regardless of if it was right or wrong, he knew he had to. He was still angry, but he would use all his willpower to keep it as contained as possible.

"Captain Archer." T'Pol's slightly surprised face – as surprised as T'Pol could look, that is – stared back at him.

"T'Pol." Jon didn't know what to do. This wasn't a good idea. However, it was too late now. Desperately scanning his brain for a direct yet gentle way to word Trip's condition, Jon realized with horror what words were already forming on his lips.

"Congratulations on your marriage," he said coldly. He mentally began kicking himself. Even though it really was what he wanted to say, he should have had enough self-restraint not to. T'Pol looked slightly upset – again, as upset as a Vulcan was capable of looking.

"I see Commander Tucker made it back to Enterprise," T'Pol shot back, just as coldly. Jon sighed and looked down.

"Dammit – I'm sorry, T'Pol. That isn't what I should have said. It's just..." He lifted his head, looking T'Pol in the eye. She curiously raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Captain?" Her voice had softened slightly, leaving her usually inquisitive tone.

"There was an explosion in engineering two days ago." Jon paused, wondering how to go on. Was there any point trying to be delicate with a Vulcan?

"Did the ship sustain much damage?" she asked neutrally. She obviously hadn't clued in yet.

"Well, one of the plasma conduits erupted, and they're currently repairing a hole in one of the bulkheads running parallel to the corridor." And it burnt half of Trip's face off. And he's in shock, and in a coma. But, hey, Doc says he'll be awake in a week, so no worries.

"Were there any serious injuries?" T'Pol asked, sounding for all the world as though she was inquiring into something as inconsequential as the weather.

"One of our Ensign's almost bled to death, but Phlox fixed her up. And Trip-" T'Pol's face expressed pure, uncensored fear. Jon looked down again. "-is in a coma. Phlox said he should be awake soon, but he sustained some serious injuries... A chunk of metal in his shoulder, broken ribs, a concussion, third degree burns. He's still in shock..." Jon trailed off. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I just... I thought you should know."

Jon refused to look up during the awkward silence that ensued.

"Thank you, Jonathan," she said, barely above a whisper. He looked up then, noticing that while her face had once again become reasonably neutral, it had taken on a slightly yellow tinge, and her eyes had a watery look. Jon nodded once.

"Archer out."

He still wasn't sure that he'd done the right thing, and he didn't know how Trip was going to react. But it had been the 'human' thing to do, – Jon laughed to himself – and he knew T'Pol had appreciated the thought, even if she'd never admit it.

It was past midnight on the third day when Jon, drifting in and out of sleep, felt a squeeze on his hand. His eyes flew open, and Trip's baby blue's were staring back at him. His body was still wracked with small tremors, and he had an unhealthy grey complexion, but he was awake.

"G'Mornin', Jon," he croaked out, wheezing with the effort involved. Jon smiled broadly at his friend, hiding the worry he once again felt welling up inside of him.

"Good night is more like it – it's nearly 0100!"

Trip gave him a feeble smile, looking around. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Just a little over two days. Hold on a second, Trip; I'll go get Phlox."

Trip barely managed a nod, and Jon rose to fetch the doctor. When he returned with the Denobulan, Trip was still wheezing, and one of his hands was gently pressed against his ribcage. Phlox immediately went to the engineer's side, giving him a hypo in the neck.

"That should help with the pain, Commander," said Phlox, checking the read-outs on the devices that were connected to Trip. "I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Like shit," Trip said flatly, trying to lift himself on his elbows. Both Phlox and Jon rushed to his sides, gently forcing him back down.

"Bad idea, Trip," Jon said forcefully, giving his friend the 'Captain' look. "You suffered some rather severe injuries."

"'Rather severe'?" Trip asked uncertainly, looking back and forth between his Captain and his Doctor.

"Internal bleeding, concussion," Phlox began, ticking them off on his fingers. "Cracked ribs, internal bleeding, third degree burns, fragment of bulkhead in your shoulder, coma-"

"Alright, alright!" Trip said, exasperated. "I get it. Lost of injuries. Lots of pain. Be more careful."

"You just can't stay out of trouble, can you?" Jon said seriously. He allowed his face to express the extreme worry he felt for his friend. Trip's eyes softened.

"Hey, it isn't my fault, Cap'n. I have a potentially dangerous work environment. I'll try to be more careful, 'kay?" Jon just nodded. Trip turned to face Phlox. "So, what's the prognosis, Doc? When'll I be back on my feet?" He looked hopeful. Jon felt a pang of sympathy for his friend.

"Well, Commander, that depends somewhat on you, and whether or not you choose to take proper care of your body. My initial prognosis was three weeks in bed-" Trip opened his mouth to protest, but the Doctor held up a hand to silence him, "-but given the fact that you're awake already, I'd say a minimum of a week. Possibly ten days. And there is no point arguing, because I'm sure the Captain will agree with me, and there is very little point in you wasting the energy your body needs to heal itself." Before Trip could say another word, Phlox turned and walked out past the curtain concealing Trip's bed.

Trip huffed; Jon smiled. Trip turned to him and gave him a very serious look.

"Didja tell T'Pol?" he asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Jon nodded heavily.

"Shortly after Phlox patched you up. At the time, he was saying you were going to be in a coma for maybe a week, with three weeks time to recuperate. I thought she should know; I didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but-"

"It was," Trip said quietly, cutting him off. He was staring at the ceiling. "How'd she take it?" Jon started to open his mouth, but Trip looked him straight in the eye. "Honestly."

Jon sighed, once again taking the seat next to Trip's bed. "Honestly?" he said uncertainly. Trip nodded. "I thought she was going to cry."

Trip turned away, staring off into space. "She's been so...emotional...lately," he said softly, and Jon had the feeling Trip had forgotten he was in the room. Seeming to come back to reality, he turned back to Jon. "You gonna tell her I'm awake?"

Jon nodded his head. "That was next on my list; that and tell Malcolm, Hoshi, and Travis. They've been really worried about you, you know."

"May I? Tell T'Pol, I mean."

Jon stared intently at his friend, trying to read his emotions. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yes. I owe her that much."

"Alright then. I'll get you set up here, and then I'm going to head down to my quarters for a bit. Porthos'll be missing me right about now."

"Wanna bring him up, Jon? I could use a happy puppy visit." The look on Trip's face was so full of youthful innocence – Jon had to laugh.

"One 'happy puppy visit' coming up. But I don't think my back can stand another night in Sickbay, Trip." Jon grinned.

"Er, Jon..." Trip said uncertainly. Jon paused, waiting for his friend to continue. "How...how did she seem? In general, I mean, before you told her..."

Jon took a deep breath, thinking. What would be the best way to word it? Vulcan's weren't exactly known for having the most recognizable emotions. Finally, he decided on, "Distraught." He rested his head in one hand, leaning against the bio bed. "I sort of slipped up at first. I really had no clue what I was doing, calling her. I pissed her off a bit."

Trip raised an eyebrow, mirroring the look T'Pol had given Jon two days before. "Like how?"

"I, uh, congratulated her on her marriage," Jon said carefully.

Trip rolled his eyes. "Couldn't behave yourself for two seconds, could you, Jon? Sometimes I think your foot lives in your mouth."

Jon was relieved that Trip seemed to be handling the situation a bit better than the morning he'd initially told Jon about T'Pol's marriage. However, he could still see the shadows behind his friend's indifferent façade, and he knew that Trip couldn't possibly be over it this quickly.

"You'd better watch it, Commander," Jon said, rising and reaching for the com console. "I have the ability to order you to scrub the floors in Engineering for the next month."

Trip just grinned.

A/N: UGH. How many times am I going to have to list off Trip's damn injuries? People better just quit asking!
I win the award for lamest chapter. I didn't really know what to do with it. I hate the ending. It's going to get better, though, I promise.
If you want an update, I'm going to have to have my inbox flooded with reviews tomorrow morning :) Positive reviews! –charming smile-