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x-x

Trip saw Malcolm in front of him, looking whole and fine, if worried. Phlox was there, too, right beside Malcolm as if nothing was wrong, as if Malcolm wasn't dead.

Phlox said, "Can you describe what is happening?"

Trip tore his eyes away from Malcolm, instead focusing on his hands on the biobed. They were clenched around the edge of the bed again, so he purposely relaxed them. Then he closed his eyes. The voices were there, louder now, becoming clearer, but he still wasn't able to understand what they were saying.

Suddenly all the voices rang out together in one word. "Dead!"

Trip smiled without mirth. "No kidding," he said flatly. "I know that. I was there, remember?"

Phlox's voice came from in front of him. "Commander?"

Trip looked up, but purposely kept his eyes on Phlox. Maybe if he didn't look at Malcolm, he'd go away. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he'd seen Malcolm and Hoshi there, both dead. He didn't believe in ghosts, so this must be something else, but whatever it was, it wasn't good. He waved a hand vaguely in Malcolm's direction. Dead dead, because they're both dead, he thought. Him and Hoshi.

"Dead," he heard again, the voices quite clear.

"But they're not," he said aloud. "Malcolm's right here. He's not dead."

The doctor looked at him, clearly puzzled. "No, Mr. Tucker. The Lieutenant is quite alive."

"I saw them die. It flashed, and then they were dead." He let his gaze move to Malcolm. "You're not here. I saw you die. And the voices..." He stopped speaking when he saw the look of shock on Malcolm's face.

"Voices, Commander?" Phlox said calmly, as if what he'd just said was as normal as sneezing.

Trip flashed Malcolm an apologetic smile, then turned back to Phlox. "Since they died."

"Do you hear these voices now?"

Trip nodded. "Yes, but I can't really understand - "

"Dead!" The voices said loudly in chorus.

Trip clapped his hands over his ears. "I know they're dead, damn it. I was there. No need to shout."

"Start from the beginning, please," Phlox said as he began bustling over him.

Trip tried to explain what he saw. "The device, we were, um, it snapped at me, and then Hoshi said not to, that..." At Phlox's look of puzzlement, he tried again. "There was a flash, and there were voices, and if they aren't dead, you know I don't believe in ghosts, so he must be something else, and..." Trip let his voice trail off. He knew he wasn't being clear.

Phlox turned to Malcolm and asked him for his version of the events, and they stepped away slightly. Like they couldn't discuss it right in front of him. Like he wouldn't understand.

Well, isn't this just the cat's pajamas, Trip thought. I'm trying to tell them what's wrong, and they think I'm nuts. Fabulous.

Maybe he was nuts. Whatever. He'd figure it out later. But right now, he needed to find a way to explain.

To explain what, exactly?

He tried to remember. It had been so clear, just a second ago. So very important...

He heard Phlox saying something to him, but, although he could hear the words through the chorus of voices, he couldn't understand the meaning. Everything was so muddled. He caught something about an antipsychotic before he felt a tug on his arm, his uniform sleeve being pushed up. He glanced down as the doctor injected something into his arm.

x-x

Trip woke up feeling bleary. Cautiously, he sat up. He was dizzy, but the voices were gone. He smiled slightly, enjoying the silence.
Someone moved near his biobed, and his eyes tracked slowly, finally focusing on the doctor as he stopped directly in front of him.

"How are you feeling?" Phlox asked.

"Where did the voices go?" Trip asked, surprised to hear his words come out so slowly.

Phlox flashed a light into his eyes, then ran a scanner over him. "I gave you a medication which should help with that."

"I feel funny. Slow. Dizzy."

"Side effects. They should pass."

"Malcolm and Hoshi?" Trip asked, surprised it took him this long to remember, and that he didn't feel more upset. Must be the drugs. He felt confused, his feelings dulled.

Phlox nodded. "They're both fine."

"Not dead?"

"No, completely alive."

"How long have I been here?"

"Just since yesterday."

Trip sat there a moment while Phlox worked. When the doctor stepped back, Trip asked, "What's wrong with me?"

Phlox put down his scanner. "I'm not sure yet. If you're feeling up to it, I have some questions I need to ask you, which will help with the diagnosis. Try to answer as precisely as you can." Trip nodded slowly, then the doctor asked, "Have you ever experienced voices arguing in your head?"

"You mean before yesterday?" Trip asked with a slight smile.

"Including yesterday."

Trip nodded. "Okay. Then, no." At Phlox's surprised look, he continued. "They weren't arguing. More like talking at me."

"Do they seem to come from inside you?"

Trip thought about this. "I'm not sure. I think so. Kind of, maybe." He raised his hands to cover his ears. " 'Cause I can't block them out."

As Phlox went through a series of questions, ranging from headaches ("No") to sleepwalking ("No") to questions with obvious psychiatric overtones, a thought suddenly came into his head, as if placed there from outside. If he could just see the device again, spend some time with it, he might be able to figure all this out.

"Commander?" Phlox said, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Sorry, doc." Trip said. "Meds making me spacey."

"Are you all right to proceed?"

"Yeah, yeah. Ask me that one again."

"Have you been thinking thoughts that seemed to be someone else's?"

Interesting question, Trip thought. He wasn't sure how to answer. That thought about seeing the device again - that one seemed to have come from nowhere. But was it someone else's? God, he hoped not. That sounded like really bad news. He heard himself mutter, "Thoughts just do that sometimes, though." The voices were bad enough, and the visions from earlier - he'd had enough trouble without that as well. He rubbed a hand across his eyes. He felt dizzy, and slow. He felt...he let his head fall forward, and stared down at his knees.

"Mr. Tucker?" Phlox asked, tapping him on the forearm.

It took all Trip's strength to raise his head.

"You should lie down, get some rest. We can continue this later."

Trip nodded and lay down, staring up at the lights lining the ceiling above him.

x-x

Trip woke - well, maybe "woke" was too strong a word, he thought. He wasn't sure he'd been sleeping; more like staring numbly at the ceiling for several hours. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, trying to clear his head. These drugs may be keeping the voices away, but otherwise they sucked.

The doors to sickbay opened, and Trip heard footsteps coming closer. The curtain surrounding his bed was pushed aside, revealing Malcolm.

"Is it okay if I visit?" Malcolm asked, seeming hesitant.

Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Why are you asking? Am I making you nervous?"

Malcolm stepped forward, letting the curtain close behind him. With a tight smile, he said, "Well, you had been fairly insistent that I was dead."

Trip rolled over onto his side, propping his head with one hand. "Well, have a seat, dead man."

Malcolm pulled a chair up to Trip's bedside. "Are you sure? My presence made you - "

"I'm sorry about that," Trip said quickly. "For earlier. I was wasn't really myself."

"Are you yourself now?"

Trip stopped a moment and thought about the question. "Not really, no. But it's a different 'not myself' than before." At Malcolm's questioning look, he said, "I'm not sure how to describe it. I feel slower, not - not right. Phlox said it's the meds, so if I fade out on you, it's not you, it's..." he tapped the side of his head, then shrugged. "These drugs kind of suck, but at least I don't think you're the walking dead."

As Malcolm sat, Trip asked, "What happened in the launch bay, with the device?"

"Happened?"

"What did you see?"

Malcolm hesitated a moment, then said, "We were working on the device. I was trying to get some readings with my scanner. The next thing I knew, you were whispering that we were dead."

Trip could feel himself trembling. Malcolm must have noticed his anxiety, because he asked, "Are you certain you want to hear this?"

Trip nodded, afraid to speak because his voice would betray him.

"When we tried to talk to you, you backed away. You began shouting." Malcolm looked distressed. In a quiet voice, he said, "Then you were just sitting there, rocking, eyes closed, hands over your ears and humming."

"Sounds bad," Trip said, trying to break the mood.

"It was," Malcolm said seriously.

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

"Does Phlox think it has anything to do with the artifact?"

Malcolm peered at him, as if unsure how to answer. He shook his head. "He doesn't think so. We evaluated the device, and - " Malcolm shrugged. "You received a small cut on your finger from a rough edge on the seam. We found nothing in the seam: no devices, no chemicals. And Phlox found nothing in your bloodstream."

"So all this..." Trip lifted one arm, sweepingly taking in the entire room. "...is just me?"

Malcolm hesitated again, then replied in a soft voice, "Phlox thinks so."

"Wow," Trip said, letting himself fall back onto his pillow.

"Yeah," Malcolm replied.

x-x

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