Walk in the Dark
By Drogna
Chapter 15
AN: Last chapter and hope you've all enjoyed this story. There is a very short epilogue to follow, because I couldn't just leave it here.
Columbia shadowed Enterprise as the two ships travelled back towards Earth. Enterprise had borrowed a few extra crew members to help make the journey home a bit easier and allow everyone some time to rest. Most of the original Enterprise crew had actually taken up residence in sickbay on their off hours.
Trip was still weak and sleeping up to twenty hours a day, although he was slowly recovering some of his stamina. When he wasn't asleep he was trying to sort his newly returned memories into some semblance of order. Phlox had suggested that the best way to do that was to talk through memories with his friends.
"Are you sure that you're remembering that right?" asked Trip, after he and Archer had been reminiscing about a night out on the town in San Francisco. "I could have sworn you struck out with the pretty Lieutenant."
"Maybe I'm just remembering how I wanted it to go," said Archer with a grin.
Trip gave his friend a feeble swat on the arm. His memory might be returning but he still had no strength. "You're supposed to be helping me get my brain cells in order. At this rate you'll never get your Chief Engineer back."
Archer's grin disappeared.
"What's the matter?" asked Trip. "You do want me back? I know it's going to take a while before I'm fit…"
"It's not that, Trip," said Archer, quickly. "There'll always be a place on Enterprise for you as long as I'm Captain. We haven't exactly discussed how we found the cure for you or what we did to get it."
"No, but I remember being on the space station and everyone running for their lives from a big explosion that was about to happen." Trip paused a minute and Archer knew that meant some more of Trip's memories were clicking into place. "Why was Captain Hernandez there?"
Reed picked that moment to enter sickbay. He was heading over to Trip's bed before he picked up on the look on both men's faces. Archer's solemn seriousness and Trip's puzzled inquiry. "Am I interrupting something?" asked Reed.
"No, Malcolm, come on over," said Trip.
"You can probably help me fill in the details," added Archer. "I was just about to tell Trip exactly how we got him to the station."
"Oh," said Reed in a tone that made it clear that he wished he hadn't walked into sickbay at just that moment. He took a seat beside his Captain. "I suppose the first thing to tell you is that we stole Enterprise. You're currently on a starship taken without consent, or at least you were. We're now being escorted back to base by Columbia."
"You stole Enterprise? Why would you need to steal Enterprise?" Trip paused and light dawned behind his eyes. "Hang on a minute, you stole Enterprise to take me to the station, because Starfleet wouldn't let you take me there. Which means that you're all up for court-martial the moment we get back. What on Earth possessed you all to pull a damn fool stunt like that for a dying man?"
"You're not dying anymore," pointed out Archer. "We knew the station had the equipment to cure you."
"Yeah, but what if it hadn't worked. It was a damn big risk to take for one man," said Trip. "And I don't understand why Starfleet wouldn't let you take me out there?"
"Because of what the station was used for. It was a genetic research station, used by scientist that survived the Eugenics wars." Archer wasn't exactly sure how Trip felt about eugenics and the laws against it, but he doubted that he'd be happy to find out that his cure had come from a dubious source.
"That's impossible, they'd be five hundred years old," said Trip.
"One of the scientists cloned herself hundreds of times and put some of those clones into cryogenic suspension. The clones were the ones who ran the station and developed the treatment for Clarke's Syndrome."
"So you're saying I was cured by research which was a product of genetic experiments, performed by cloned Eugenics wars scientists," said Trip. He sounded slightly incredulous and Archer couldn't blame him. It did sound unbelievable, evil scientists, cloning and magic cures. It was a big adjustment to go from dying from a terminal disease to the chance of complete recovery in just a couple of days. The cure must have seemed like a miracle. It did feel like a miracle to Archer. That on top of the unlikely sounding way that they had found the cure would be enough to make anyone doubt what was being said.
"That's exactly what we're saying," said Reed.
Trip lay back in his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "I know my history. Those scientists performed genetic experiments on humans. I wish I knew how to feel about this," said Trip finally after a long silence. "I mean a lot of people died for that research, and it's as illegal as it comes. Arik Soong and his Augments did nothing but harm. I know there's a hell of a good reason why we banned tinkering with the human genome. But I can't complain that I'm alive and getting better again."
"I wish I could give you an easy answer, Trip," said Archer. "But I don't have one to give. I'm struggling with the same dilemma. I wanted you to be well again and I knew I'd do anything to make that happen, because you're my friend."
"Our friend," added Reed.
"Maybe it was selfish of us to do this, put you in this position, but once we found the station we all knew what we had to do. It may sit heavily on my conscience but I don't regret doing it." Archer was still serious but there seemed a lighter quality to his expression now.
Reed also felt the need to explain. "It wasn't just the Captain, we all agreed that it was the only thing to do. At least something good finally came out of the horrible period of our history that was the Eugenics wars. T'Pol even has some nice logical arguments about why it was the only course of action open to us, if you have a spare couple of hours to listen to them."
"But you're still all going to be facing a court-martial for this, and I guess me too, probably as an accessory or something."
"Actually I checked that part," said Reed. "You weren't in a frame of mind to be able to understand what was going on. In fact I expect that they'll see you as the victim in all of this. Kidnapped from a hospital bed and dragged halfway across the galaxy to take part in an experimental treatment, the lawyers will have a field day."
"If I hadn't been sick then you wouldn't have had to do any of this and risk your careers," said Trip.
"It's not like you could help being sick," said Reed.
"This was our decision, Trip, and I think we're all old enough to know what we're doing. Anyway, I don't think there'll be any courts-martial," said Archer.
Both Reed and Trip now looked a little stunned at Archer.
"Sir, we stole Starfleet property, broke the ban on genetic research and kidnapped a Starfleet officer. Those are serious crimes, no matter how good the intentions were. We'll be lucky not to get prison time."
"You're forgetting that we have blackmail material, Malcolm," said Archer. "Starfleet built and funded that place for years, I'm betting that they won't want anyone to know about it."
"Wait a minute, Starfleet funded Eugenics scientists?" asked Trip, incredulously.
Archer nodded. "And I have the data to prove it. Hoshi downloaded the records from the station."
"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse," said Trip.
"Well hopefully better, because it means we have a good chance at avoiding a court-martial," said Reed, a little happiness creeping into his voice.
"Yeah, but this is Starfleet we're talking about, Malcolm. We're meant to be the good guys," said Trip.
"You know as well as I do that nothing is ever that simple. Starfleet has done some questionable things in the name of Earth. I've been party to some of them."
"You?" asked Trip with surprise.
"You obviously don't remember me being shut in the brig when Phlox was kidnapped," said Reed.
"You were on Columbia at the time, but when you came back Malcolm was in the brig," added Archer.
"Not an episode I'd like to repeat and I'm pleased to say that my days of covert ops are over," said Reed.
Trip was trying hard to remember, Archer could see it. "Why was Malcolm in the brig?"
"Because I hid information from my Captain on the orders of my former special ops commander," replied Reed. "Servant of two masters and all that. Not one of my finest moments."
"I don't remember any of it," said Trip, worriedly.
"It'll come back, Trip. Phlox said that you need to give it time," said Archer.
"I know, but how come I can remember a night out with you at the 602 Club but I can't remember Phlox being kidnapped or Malcolm being in the brig." Trip was getting a little agitated and the last thing he needed right now was any more stress.
"Slow down, Trip. This wasn't a bout of the 'flu. You were ill for the best part of two years. I can't believe how well you've done these past few days, but this is all going to take time." Archer put a hand on Trip's forearm. Even now he was still shocked by the feel of bone beneath his hand and how thin Trip had become.
"Yeah, time," said Trip, resignedly. "So what are you going to do next?"
"Talk to Admiral Gardner, hope that he sees things my way," said Archer.
"And if he doesn't see things your way?" asked Reed.
"You and I will be out of a job," said Archer.
"Along with Hoshi, Travis, T'Pol and Anna," said Reed.
"But there'll be some interesting headlines in the papers the next day," said Archer.
Trip allowed himself to smile a little at the embarrassment that would cause some pompous Starfleet admirals. "I should probably say thank you to you guys, for putting your careers on line and nearly getting yourselves killed. Not the smartest move, but I'm damn grateful you did it."
"You'd have done the same for us," said Reed.
Phlox approached the group. "I'm sorry gentlemen but the Commander needs to rest, and you both do too."
"You know we're not leaving sickbay," said Archer.
"Which is why you'll find that I have readied the two biobeds in the far corner," said Phlox. "I suggest that you both go to the mess hall before you sleep, I have noticed that you've been skipping meals to visit the Commander and you know that I won't allow it. I can ban you from sickbay if necessary."
"That isn't necessary, doctor. We'll get some food," said Archer, getting up from his chair beside Trip's bed.
"You don't have to stay. I'm not going anywhere for a long while yet," said Trip.
"It's not just for your benefit, Commander," said Phlox. "Everyone seems to sleep better if they're in sickbay at the moment."
"I don't," pointed out Trip.
"The dreams should stop once your brain has sorted and filed all your memories," said Phlox. "Another few days at most and until then it is useful to have someone on hand to wake you from the more vivid nightmares."
"Great, I feel like I'm back waiting for Mom to come and chase the bed monsters away. Leave the nightlight on when you go, guys."
Archer smiled. "We'll be back to check under the bed for monsters once we've eaten."
Trip gave them one of his long suffering looks, which just made them smile even more. With that the two men left sickbay to find food.
"When do I get some real food, doc?" asked Trip.
"Once you can reliably keep liquids down, we'll start trying a light diet," said Phlox.
Trip tried feebly to push himself into a sitting position. Phlox came over to help him and adjusted the bed so that he was a little more upright. Trip's head spun for a moment and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm the nausea that rose within him. Trip indicated the glass of water on the bedside table and Phlox handed it to his patient, but kept a light grip on it himself. Trip's hands were as weak as the rest of his body, and still little more than stiff, immobile claws.
"There's something else you haven't mentioned yet," said Trip, looking up at Phlox. "I've been on pain medication for a long time, and I'm talking the really good stuff. Now I know that isn't something I can just stop taking, and withdrawal from these things usually isn't pretty."
Phlox nodded seriously. "You're correct. You have been prescribed painkillers for an extended period and even given your remarkable recovery, you are still experiencing some pain."
"Nowhere like before though, doc," said Trip.
"Of course. The usual procedure is to step back the medication in small decrements, but I have been hesitant to do that until I was sure that you weren't still experiencing acute or chronic pain. If you are happy to do so, then we can begin decreasing the dose tomorrow."
"I've never liked taking drugs I don't have to and if I want to get back on duty, I can't be addicted to pain meds. Might as well get started."
"You do need to be aware that there is a point where you will have to go through withdrawal. Your body can be weaned off the drug but, with most patients, there is a threshold that cannot be gone below without the symptoms of withdrawal. At which point the only options are either to continue stepping down the drug or continue as an addict."
"I'm not becoming an addict for the rest of my life," said Trip.
"I would prefer you to be a little stronger before you enter the withdrawal phase," said Phlox.
"The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned, doc," replied Trip.
A few days later, Trip wished with all his might that he could have taken those words back. While he'd been safely wrapped in the fuzzy warmth of extra strength painkillers it hadn't seemed like withdrawal would be all that bad. As he lay on the biobed, shivering for all he was worth, covered in blankets and sweating buckets, he was reassessing exactly how bad things might still get before they got better. Phlox had taken five days to step down the medication to the level it was at now. The shivering, aching, cramping, crying out for relief, level.
"Is it time yet?" asked Trip from, beneath his nest of blankets.
Lieutenant Reed had been sitting next to him and looked up from his padd. "Not even close."
"Great," murmured Trip, unhappily. Time was passing unbelievably slowly. Each second seemed to drag by. He was too ill to do much other than lie on the bed and contemplate his next shot of pain relief. His whole world was narrowing to one point in time and he hated that almost as much as the pain and shivers. He didn't want to spend his whole life as an addict and that was why he was enduring this. If he focused on the end then he knew he could do this. He'd had severe heatstroke and been infected by an alien virus, got himself pregnant and possessed by aliens, he'd been tortured for information by time travelling alien Nazis and nearly blown apart by his own engine, and he'd survived it all. Hell, he was the first human to be cured of Clarke's Syndrome. When you looked at it like that, surely this was nothing.
Unfortunately, no matter how much he compared it to the other bad stuff that had happened to him, he still felt like crap. Some days it just seemed like the universe was out to get him.
"Any news from the Captain?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"They only left an hour ago, they won't even be at Starfleet HQ yet," said Reed. Captain Archer, T'Pol and Captain Hernandez had all gone to speak with Admiral Gardner, and Reed didn't expect to hear anything back from them for some time yet. Trip was understandably anxious to hear how things were going, and somehow had managed to decide that he was at least partly to blame for the illegal actions of his friends. Everyone had tried to explain to him that it was their own choice, but no one could say that it hadn't been for Trip, so hence he had decided that it was his fault.
"Meanwhile we're under house arrest," said Trip.
"Just be glad we weren't all thrown in the brig," replied Reed. "For which we are eternally indebted to Captain Hernandez and her fast talking."
Everyone had expected to be arrested and sent to the nearest brig when they got back, Phlox and Trip included, at least until they could get everything sorted out. Trip wasn't keen on being sent to some high security hospital where he wouldn't know the doctors, and Phlox wasn't particularly pleased about allowing anyone else to take care of his patient, but there didn't seem to be anything to be done about it. No one had expected Captain Hernandez to refuse to let the guards take away the prisoners. She simply reminded the security officers who had been sent to retrieve them, who it was that they were about to haul off to the brig. Captain Archer, hero of the Expanse, the man who had schools, libraries and concert halls named after him, and his senior staff (who also had a few places named after them too by now).
The security officers had stood down, a little grudgingly, and a compromise had been agreed. The Enterprise officers would stay on Enterprise until the issue of their conduct was resolved. The security officers would guard the exits; the bridge, Engineering and the Armoury were off-limits, but otherwise they would have free run of the ship.
Reed noticed that Trip had shut his eyes again, against the aches and pains. The lights in sickbay had been turned down so that they didn't hurt his eyes, giving it a rather subdued atmosphere. Reed reached out for the bowl which Phlox had left beside Trip's bed, he opened the thermal flask beside it and poured a little warm water into the bottom of the bowl. Finally he damped a clean wash cloth in the water. He wrung it out and shook off any remaining drips, then, more gently than Trip would have believed him capable of, he wiped the sweat off Trip's forehead. He moved the cloth across his cheeks and around the neck. Trip sighed with pleasure that something finally felt good. At the moment heat seemed to be sucked out of him by anything that he touched and a warm wash cloth reminded him that there was heat in the world.
His energy was ebbing but the aches kept him awake. Reed moved once again and this time it was to get the warming blanket. Phlox wouldn't let Trip use the warming blanket for extended periods because it could lead to him over heating, but he was happy for a few minutes use every so often. Reed draped the blanket over the existing pile of sickbay standard issue grey blankets and set it to a pleasantly comforting warmth.
Trip's shivers subsided slightly and he allowed himself to stretch his tired muscles a little. "Thanks, Malcolm. You sure you've got nothing better to do than look after me?"
"Sleep, Trip," said Reed, ignoring the question. "Just sleep, and I'll wake you if I hear anything from the Captain."
The heat from the blanket was making him drowsy and combined with the existing exhaustion it didn't take much to follow Reed's instructions.
"Perhaps you'd like to explain to me why I shouldn't throw the god damn book at you," said Admiral Gardner. "You stole your own ship! In fact given your record, you seem to be making a habit of it. Not only that, you kidnapped a terminally ill patient from his hospital bed. You should all be in the brig awaiting trial. Which brings me to you, Captain Hernandez. I had assumed that you would be able to carry out your orders without difficulty. Instead you refused to allow the crew of Enterprise to be arrested and bring them here."
"Actually my orders were to return Enterprise to Earth, and arrest the crew. I brought Enterprise home and placed the crew under arrest. It wasn't specified that they should be placed under arrest in the brig rather than any other form of guard," said Hernandez, with her usual precision.
"Captain, I am not going to argue semantics with you. If you want to keep your command then you will allow the security officers to arrest Enterprise's crew," said Gardner.
"Are you finished, Admiral?" asked Archer. He'd never liked Admiral Gardner. He wasn't like Forrest, who had always shared Archer's dreams of space exploration, he was a bureaucrat.
"I'm just getting started, Captain," said Gardner.
"No, you're not," said Archer. "Show him the data T'Pol."
T'Pol handed Gardner the padd she was carrying. "This data details illegal experiments being conducted by Starfleet on an unregistered space station."
"What does this have to do with you stealing Enterprise and kidnapping Commander Tucker?" asked Gardner.
"We found a cure for Commander Tucker on the space station," said Archer.
"I know he's your friend, Captain, and to be honest I counselled against you both being posted to the same ship, but even I didn't believe that you would commit illegal acts for him."
"You have no idea what I would do for Commander Tucker," said Archer. "He's saved my life more times than I can count."
"Captain Archer was not the only member of the crew involved," said T'Pol. "We all respect and value Commander Tucker, and consider him to be a friend."
"Friendship doesn't absolve you from a court-martial," said Gardner.
"No, but if you court-martial us you'll have to explain why Starfleet was supporting an illegal genetics research lab. I'm sure the media would love to get their hands on that story." Archer smiled.
"You're blackmailing me?" asked Gardner, incredulously.
"Yes, sir," said Archer. "No courts-martial or we will go to the press with what we've found."
"If that's the way you want it, Captain Archer." Gardner was practically snarling in frustration. "I can't believe that you really want to see Starfleet's name dragged through the mud and if you let anyone know about that research station, your court-martial will be back on. For the moment you're safe. There is one thing that I can do, however, and that is make sure that neither you, nor any of your crew who participated in this, are ever put forward for promotion again."
"Admiral," began Hernandez.
"You say another word, Captain, and you'll be included in that," said Gardner.
"It's okay, Erika, I assumed that there'd be a price. Message understood, Admiral," said Archer.
"You're dismissed. You'll be contacted with your new orders," said Gardner.
The three officers filed out of the Admiral's office.
"Jonathan, you just gave away your career," said Hernandez.
"The way I look at it, I gained Enterprise," said Archer.
"Admiral Garner is also currently five years from retirement age," said T'Pol. "The Captain conceded a minor point to the Admiral."
"I hope everyone else will see it that way too," said Archer, a little unhappily.
"You knew that?" asked Hernandez.
"I don't go into a negotiation without all the facts. There were worse punishments that he could have given us."
"I fail to see how five years serving on Enterprise could be seen as a punishment. You also may like to look at the regulations governing field commissions," added T'Pol.
Trip had awoken to find Lieutenant Reed gone, and one of the medical technicians fussing around him. He asked where the Lieutenant was and was told that he'd gone to meet the Captain's shuttle returning from Earth. Trip actually felt fairly good at the moment, he knew it was just temporary until the drugs started to wear off again, but every time he was able to wait longer and longer before his much reduced dosage of painkiller. He waited for the medical technician to leave the room and decided that it was time to test out his recovery.
Trip swung his legs over the side of the bed. The first thing he noticed was that the action didn't make him dizzy. That gave him a small warm glow, but he looked down at his thin legs, weakened by muscle wastage, and the warmth disappeared. He'd been ill for a very long time and it was going to take a long time to get his strength back, not to mention former muscle tone. Phlox had already mentioned physiotherapy but the plan was to start gently. He certainly wasn't meant to be getting out of bed yet, but surely a couple a steps whilst holding onto the bed couldn't hurt.
He lowered himself as gently as he could until his feet touched the floor, his arms shaking at even this small effort. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he breathed heavily. The floor was cold under his feet and for a moment all he could do was lean against the biobed and suck in air. When he felt recovered enough he shuffled his left leg forward, it didn't particularly want to respond but he was patient and eventually it was in a position that he felt he could put some weight on it and then move the right forward. His right leg shook at the strain it was under bearing all his body weight.
His earlier determination was waning a little. One step had taken him nearly ten minutes and he had yet to work out how he was going to get back into bed. He felt like he'd run a marathon already and he hadn't even got to the end of the biobed. His left leg had moved though, and that was at least something. He held on to the edge of the bed and began to shuffle his right leg forward with equal difficulty. Both legs shook now at the demands being placed upon them and suddenly his left leg gave way underneath him.
He hit the ground heavily and didn't even try to break his fall, knowing from experience that it would probably cause more damage if he put a hand out. Pain raged through him for a few long seconds and he clenched his jaw against it. His left shoulder and hip seemed to have taken the worst of the fall, but he'd also managed to pull out his IV line and blood was beginning to drip from his arm. He rolled off his side and onto his back, where he stared up at the ceiling. There was no way he was getting off the floor on his own.
"Commander, what are you doing out of bed?" asked a familiar voice.
"Falling over," replied Trip. "Don't think I'll be doing the two step any time soon."
Phlox knelt beside his patient. "Are you experiencing any pain?"
"A little. I landed kind of heavily on my left side."
Phlox already had his scanner out and was waving it over Trip's helpless body. "Some deep tissue bruising but nothing more. It seems you were lucky."
"Sorry, Doc, I know this wasn't the smartest thing I could have done," said Trip.
"Actually I've been expecting this. I thought that you would have to try it soon," said Phlox.
"I'm that predictable?"
"Well, now that your memories are returning, it is natural that you want your body to catch-up with the recovery of your mind. You always have been a notoriously bad patient and I don't believe I've ever managed to keep you in here as long as I would like."
"So you're saying that I'm an impatient pain in the ass?"
"You can be impatient, yes, but personally I would never describe you as a pain. Now, let's get you back into bed," said Phlox. "We'll begin by sitting you up."
Unfortunately, just as Phlox was moving Trip into a sitting position, Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed walked into sickbay.
"Damn," muttered Trip, trying to ignore his audience.
"Trip!" said Archer, coming to his side as quickly as he could. "What happened?"
"The Commander was stretching his legs," said Phlox.
"You didn't try to get up?" asked Reed, already knowing the answer. "Of all the idiotic…"
"Yes, it was a stupid idea and I ended up on the floor. I've got some really nice bruises coming as a reminder not to do it again in a hurry, so just drop it, okay?"
"Whatever you say, Trip," said Archer, with a smile beginning to form. "Let's get you back to bed."
Phlox and Archer lifted Trip back into bed, much to his embarrassment, but it was better than lying on a cold floor.
"So how'd it go?" asked Trip, barely waiting until he was settled.
"We're off the hook," said Archer.
"Just like that?" asked Trip.
"Well not quite. The Admiral wasn't too pleased with us, so I'm afraid any career plans we had for the next few years are pretty much over."
"I never wanted to be a Captain anyway," said Trip.
"Yes, well, you still might make Captain," said Reed. "But only after our friend Admiral Gardner has retired."
"There are worse places to be than Enterprise," said Trip. He could feel the first shivers moving through his body as the pangs of withdrawal began again. He pulled the blanket closer around himself.
"Trip?" asked Archer, a little concerned at the shivers running through his friend. He'd been too busy getting ready for his meeting with the Admiral to see Trip before he'd gone down to Earth.
"Just coming off these damn pain meds," said Trip.
"If I ever get my hands on those doctors," said Archer.
"It wasn't their fault," said Trip. "They weren't expecting me to actually get better." The cramps in his stomach were back and he curled in on himself.
"Can't you give him something to help?" asked Archer.
"Any other drugs would just complicate matters," said Phlox. "Unfortunately he has to do this on his own."
Archer grabbed a chair. "I have a pretty clear diary for the next few days."
"You've got to have better things to do than sit here and watch me feeling sorry for myself," said Trip.
"Not at the moment," replied Archer.
"I'll be back later to relieve you, Captain," said Reed.
Archer looked back at Reed, not quite understanding what he was saying for a second. Then he realised that he was going to need to sleep at some point, although he'd probably stay in sickbay, someone should be with Trip. Archer nodded. "Okay, Malcolm."
Two more days of cramping and shivering resulted in Trip being free from the drugs he'd been taking. He was left weak and wrung out, but he felt better for being drug free. The senior staff had taken turns sitting with him while he got through the worst of it, and he'd been grateful for the company. After another couple of days of lying in sickbay he was beginning to feel a little crowded and well enough to protest about his continued incarceration.
"You've got to let me go back to my quarters, Doc," said Trip.
"At the moment you're not capable of looking after yourself," replied Phlox.
"Just give me a wheelchair and I'll be fine," said Trip.
"When you're a bit stronger I'll be happy to discharge you."
"Doc, if you keep me here any longer I'm going to go crazy."
"Just a few more days, Commander," said Phlox.
"Look, I'm not sick anymore. There's no reason to keep me here."
"You're recovering from an extremely serious illness. Please don't make me repeat myself, Commander."
"Exactly, I'm recovering. Not dying, not ill, recovering." Trip threw back the blankets and struggled into a sitting position.
"Commander, this really isn't wise," said Phlox.
Trip swung his legs over the side of the bed. The last time he'd done this it hadn't ended well, but he had to prove a point. He made the final move and planted both bare feet on the floor.
Trip gave a little shiver. "You really should talk to Hess about getting some under floor heating in here, Doc." He put his best smile on. "Now either you chain me to the bed, or you let me out of here."
"I can arrange chains if you need them, Doctor," said Reed, walking into sickbay and catching the end of Trip's rant.
"Knowing Commander Tucker, he'd find a way to get out of them." Phlox sounded a little resigned. "I'll get a wheelchair. I'm assuming that you wouldn't mind accompanying the Commander back to his quarters, Lieutenant?"
"I think I've got some time. Come on Trip, let's get you out of here so that you can stop bothering the nice doctor."
Reed took the wheelchair from the doctor and positioned it for Trip to sit in. Trip collapsed heavily into the chair, giving away just how much effort he'd put into standing.
"Every time I walk into sickbay you seem to be doing something inadvisable. You're sure that you want to do this?"
"You heard the doc, Malcolm. You can take me to my quarters, so stop standing around and let's go," said Trip.
"What did your last slave die of?" asked Reed, sarcastically.
"Just itching to get out of sickbay," said Trip.
"Commander, you are to go straight to bed once you reach your quarters, and I will be by to check on you later," said Phlox, mild threat in his tone.
"Yeah, yeah, like I'm going to be doing anything but sleeping after the exertion of being wheeled from sickbay to my quarters," said Trip, resignedly. Even he knew his own limitations, and to be honest he had the strength and endurance of a kitten at the moment.
"Don't worry, Trip, I'll tuck you in before I leave," said Reed, as he pushed Trip out of sickbay and down the hall towards the turbo lift.
"Gee, thanks Malcolm."
"I'm afraid your quarters are going to need unpacking. The Captain sent for your things from the hospice, but we haven't had a chance to do anything with them yet."
"I think I might need a little help with that," said Trip.
"For the moment you're going straight to bed," said Reed. "We can see about unpacking once you've had some sleep. Not that you're going to be lifting a finger anyway."
"I've got the message, Malcolm. No heavy lifting, of say, anything weighting more than a couple of ounces. How long exactly is this mother hen routine going to go on?"
"Until you can walk more than a couple of metres on your own and you don't break into a sweat every time you try to stand up."
"And I thought Phlox was bad." Trip shook his head, but he couldn't help smiling. There was something reassuring about Reed doing his mother hen act, and right now sleeping in his own quarters sounded nice, even among the unpacked boxes. The point was that the boxes were there waiting for him and they wouldn't be going anywhere. This time he was here to stay.