Three Days Too Die

Disclaimer: I do not own Startrek: Enterprise or any of their characters.

A/N: I've also made revisions to this chapter as well and I apologize for any misspelled words or grammatical errors. Thanks for reading :)

Gradually he realized that his arms stung. His head was pounding, it felt like someone was stompin' around in there. Groggily Trip sat up, vaguely he became aware that he wasn't freezing anymore. His ribs made themselves known when he threw the covers off, realizing that he moved from one extreme to the other, freezing cold to burning hot.

Carefully he wiped the sweat from his brow and slowly swung his feet to the ground. The stinging in his arms once again demanded his attention. Breathing slowly and deeply, he looked at the clock near his bed. How could he have slept until nineteen hundred? He needed to get to Engineering… he should have checked in earlier… the Captain would be wondering why he wasn't at the Captain's Mess... As these thoughts passed through his foggy mind his body immediately protested.

No longer able to handle the stinging in his arms, he struggled to unzip and pull his arms out of his uniform. As he tied the arms of his uniform around his waist he became aware of the heat that was radiating from his body. Looking closely at his hands and arms he realized that he was covered in scratches that were read and angry looking.

"What in…the world!" He groaned as he carefully touched the area around one of the scratches on his arm. The stinging from earlier didn't compare to amount of pain he experienced when he touched the skin around the scratch. Gasping, he jerked his hand away, eliciting more protests from his ribs. With miserable resignation he knew that there was no way he could make it to Engineering, he didn't even think he could get his uniform back on.

With a groan he looked around his quarters. Spotting the cream from Phlox, he grabbed it and thought about applying it, but just shifting to pick up the cream caused pain to flair across his skin, he didn't want to find out what pain rubbing his skin would bring.

Carefully setting the cream back down, he glanced at the comm. He needed to let Phlox know what was going on. But just thinking about moving more than an inch or so had him sweating profusely.

When he shook his head subconsciously he immediately regretted it as the pounding that had faded came back with a vengeance. With a determination that he didn't know he possessed he knew that he had to get to the comm. Something was wrong with him and the only person who could figure it out was Phlox.

Taking in as deep a breath as he dared, he braced himself as he shifted his weight onto his feet. He was momentarily stopped when his senses were overcome by agonizing pain, almost causing him to black out.

Pushing through the sharp, breath stealing pain, he managed to take a step. Slowly and unsteadily he made his way to the comm on the wall near the door. By the time he made it four steps his skin was on fire, his head pounded harder, and he could feel his body shutting down.

Stumbling, he managed to sidestep and catch himself on the wall, as more pain overcame his system and his vision became distorted. With a groan he attempted another step, only to stumble again.

Breath. He could hear T'Pol's voice in his head, the advice that she had given him during their neuro therapy. Close your eyes. Relax, let your muscles breath. Panting, he leaned heavily into the wall, attempting to even out his breathing. Two more steps, you can do this, he thought as he prepared to take another step.

Suddenly his fevered mind was filled with images of T'Pol, the way she looked when she scolded him, trying to hide her emotions behind frowns and a refined posture. However, he'd seen those emotions escape her in fits of rage or passion, in an unknown look that he sometimes caught her giving him, a look that made him want to draw her close and never let her go, a look that made him feel as if she trusted him and maybe something more.

His mind was brought back to the present suddenly when his head hit the floor. Dazed, pain exploded all over his body. He heard and felt at least one rib crack. Phlox was not going to be happy. Groaning, which he seemed to do a lot of recently, he managed to slowly open his eyes.

The world was foggy and distorted, the blanket on his bed seemed to float in the air and the walls looked as if they were folding in on themselves. Vaguely he was aware that he was shivering again, the involuntary movements causing more pain to fill his senses. With another groan, he closed his eyes, welcoming the darkness that seemed to erase all his pain.

Finally, eighteen hundred and thirty, dinner time, Archer thought as he made his way to the Captain's Mess. Three hours of sleep, roughly three hours of work and he was starving. The pain medicine that Phlox had given him had made him drowsy, but his arm did feel better.

Stopping by the door, he allowed his mind to wander over all that had happened and all that he still needed to accomplish. His mind snapped back to the present when he heard someone call his name. Looking around he saw T'Pol approaching him.

Smiling, he greeted her, "It's good to see you up and about T'Pol, you had Trip and I worried there for a little bit. Won't you join me for dinner?" "Of Course Captain." However, upon stating her affirmation, T'Pol remained standing by the door.

"Is there something you want to tell me, T'Pol?" Archer asked patiently. Swallowing, T'Pol looked him in the eye, shoulders back. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life." She said, her tone emotionless, but the longer they shared eye contact, Archer could see how much she meant it. "You're welcome T'Pol." He finally responded before motioning for her to enter before him. Nodding, she preceded into the room.

"How are you feeling, T'Pol?" Archer asked as they began their meal. They had waited fifteen minutes for Trip, but eventually decided that he must have gotten caught up in Engineering. "I have a minor headache, however, I have relieved the pressure through meditation. I have also experienced slight nausea following my return to consciousness. Thankfully it has passed now and it seems that my appetite has returned." She answered as she ate a forkful of her dinner.

"That's good, if either Trip or I had been hit that hard in the head we'd still be nursing a huge headache and neither of us would be eating. Sometimes I forget how different our physiology is from yours."

Nodding her head, T'Pol responded, "That is understandable Captain, as our outward appearances do bear many similarities." Smiling to himself, Archer and T'Pol continued their meal. Their conversation shifting from one topic to the next throughout the course of their meal.

"Man, I am stuffed. I can't eat another bite." Archer said as he leaned back in his chair, "Chef really outdid himself this time. That was great." Archer rested one hand on his stomach. Wiping her mouth, T'Pol nodded, "I agree, something about this meal made it exceptionally good."

Setting his own napkin to the side of his plate, Archer looked over at T'Pol, "I wonder what kept Trip, he doesn't usually miss a meal. Have you had any contact with him since you left Sickbay?" "No, I haven't. It is rather unusual that he missed tonight's meal, especially since none of us had much to eat on the planet." T'Pol replied, as slight frown creasing her brow,

"What do you think would have kept him? The Doctor said that you both only maintained minor injuries and that each of you would be back to normal in a few weeks. Could it be something in Engineering that has had him occupied for so long?"

"Maybe. He's got me a little worried though, I'll comm Engineering when I get back to the Bridge." Archer said as he got up and, mindful of his arm, pushed his chair back under the table. "Actually Captain, I need to get some readings from Engineering, I don't mind checking to see if Commander Tucker is there." T'Pol said, also standing up.

"You should probably return to your quarters, I know for sure that Phlox would have a fit if you overdid it after such a hard hit to the head." Archer stated, grimacing when he thought of how Phlox would react to finding out that T'Pol was venturing all over the ship after such an injury.

T'Pol simply stared at him before replying, "My meditation has sufficiently reduced the effects of my concussion. Also, because my physiology is different from yours, I do not require the same amount of rest in order for my cognitive abilities to return to normal."

Realizing that this wasn't a battle he was going to win, he chuckled and replied, "Fine Sub-Commander, check and see if Trip is there. If he isn't, come get me, then we'll both start looking for him. T'Pol nodded then she and Captain Archer left the Captain's Mess, each heading to accomplish their respective duties.

Upon arriving in Engineering, T'Pol approached Ensign Sam Fezzo, who was busy completing a checklist. "Ensign, have you seen Commander Tucker?" T'Pol asked, coming to a stop behind him.

"No Ma'am, I haven't seen him since before y'all left for the planet. As a matter of fact, he was supposed to be here earlier, but he never showed. I figured the Captain had him doing something else." Sam responded, pausing from his work. "Should I be worried?" He asked, a slight frown coming over his features.

"I'm sure the Commander is fine. Thank you Ensign." T'Pol said then she turned to leave Engineering. "You're welcome Sub-Commander." Sam replied, turning back to his work, worry for Commander Tucker now taking root in the back of his mind.

T'Pol was feeling the same worry, something was nagging at her, Trip would call it her gut, but as a Vulcan she didn't get gut feelings. Shaking her head to clear it of human nonsense, she made her way to the Bridge.

Approaching the Bridge, T'Pol saw Archer stepping out of the lift. "Captain." She called out, walking towards him. "Did you find Trip?" Archer asked, noticing that she was alone and, for a Vulcan, looking worried.

"No, he was not in Engineering. Ensign Fezzo said that he hadn't seen Commander Tucker in Engineering since before we left for the away mission." T'Pol replied, now pacing slowly back and forth. Archer was sure that she was attempting to contain a fear that she would never admit she had.

"Has anyone checked his quarters? I remember him mentioning something about getting some shut eye before returning to work." Archer asked, searching his mind for any possible reason why his Chief Engineer wouldn't have reported to duty after resting, and also why he didn't show up for dinner in the Captain's Mess.

"I tried the comm, but there was no response from his quarters, Sickbay, the Armory, the Mess Hall, or the Docking Bay." T'Pol said, finally pausing in her pacing. "Perhaps he's in a deep sleep and hasn't heard the comm." Archer said, beginning to walk towards Trip's quarters.

Realizing where he was going, T'Pol followed him. Both were quiet as they allowed their worries to wander throughout their thoughts while they made their way to Trip's quarters.

Finally reaching Trip's door, Archer hit the door release and stepped into the room with T'Pol close behind him. Stopping abruptly, he barely missed stepping on the form on the floor. "Trip!" He cried out, instantly kneeling down beside his best friend.

Hearing the urgency in Archer voice, T'Pol rushed around him, silently cursing her gut, as Trip would call it. Upon seeing the pool of blood that surrounded Trip's head, she grabbed a towel from his bathroom.

"Commander Tucker, can you hear me?" She tried to keep her voice calm, but what she felt now was an emotion that she wasn't accustomed to and she was unsure how to handle it. Archer was shaking Trip's arm, attempting to get a response of any kind.

"Help me roll him onto his back, Captain." T'Pol said as she held the towel to the wound on his head. Grunting with effort, they managed to get him onto his back. Trip was covered in sweat and red, angry looking scratches were visible all over his skin.

Again T'Pol called out his name, this time his eyes fluttered and he began to shiver despite the heat that Archer could feel radiating from him. "He's running a fever, we need to move him back to the bed, T'Pol." Archer said before moving to carefully lift Trip from the ground, T'Pol following suit.

Struggling, they managed to lift him and make their way to the bed. T'Pol supported most of Trip's weight, as Archer only had one arm in working condition. Suddenly the ship lurched, almost causing them to lose their tedious grip on Trip, who only moaned and shivered more.

"Archer to the Bridge, what's going on up there?" He asked, doing all that he could to hold on to Trip's shivering form. The ship continued to lurch, making it even harder for them to get Trip onto his bunk. Glancing at T'Pol he could see that it wasn't any easier for her to lift Trip's unconscious form.

As the power flickered, Malcolm's voice came through the comm. "We're under attack, Captain. We've taken some damage, which is causing power outages throughout the ship. However, the shields seem to be holding."

Finally managing to get Trip settled on his bed, Archer and T'Pol stepped back with a sigh. "Okay, I'm on my way Lieutenant Reed. T'Pol, stay with Tucker, I need to get to the Bridge and find out why we're under attack." Archer said, moving his injured arm to rest against his side.

"Yes, Captain." T'Pol responded, already taking a seat in the only chair in the room. Archer paused for a second, taking the time to really look at T'Pol. He could see that despite what she had said she was still suffering from the blow to her head. Finished assessing her condition, he moved to the door, but he paused mid step and turned back to T'Pol, "Can you get Phlox to come take a look at Trip, he ne-"Archer was interrupted when Malcolm's voice again rang out over the ship-wide comm, "Incoming, everyone hold on!"

Archer barely had time to grab the side of the desk, as T'Pol jumped up from her seat and threw herself over Trip's unconscious form on the bed, attempting to keep him from further harm. An electric shock tore through the ship, momentarily shutting down systems and causing the artificial gravity to go off-line shortly before reengaging.

Slowly Archer stood up with a groan and carefully walked to the door. Hitting the release he waited from it to open. After a moment when nothing happened he tried again, and again, and again. After trying to open the door manually, a difficult task with only one arm in working condition, his frustration won out and he slammed his fist on the door.

"It's stuck. We're stuck." He said, defeat and frustration ringing in his voice as he stepped over to the comm, which was smoking and blinking red. Shaking his head, he turned back to T'Pol, who was still protectively draped over Trip. Their gazes locked as Trip moaned in his unconscious state and Archer knew that he and T'Pol were thinking the same thing. This was not gonna be good.