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Next Trip knew, the lights were bright around him, and Malcolm was across the room, sitting up in bed and talking to Phlox. Trip realised that he'd moved: he'd just been sitting beside Malcolm's bed, but now he was he was standing just inside the doors. His heartbeat filled his ears and he took a step backwards. Trying to calm himself, he took a series of slow, deep breaths, letting each one out with a clearly audible hiss. After a few moments, feeling more settled, he walked a bit closer.

"You should be released in a day or so," Phlox said with his usual smile. "You're making good progress."

And even from across the room, Trip could see that Malcolm was. Most of the monitors were gone, although the IV line still snaked into the back of Malcolm's hand. Trip almost smiled.

As Phlox moved away, Trip stepped to Malcolm's bedside. "Hey."

Malcolm looked up in shock and surprise. "Trip?"

"Yeah," Trip said, his smile falling away. "Are you okay?" His friend had gone pale, and he was clearly alarmed.

"You're dead," Malcolm finally said, eyes wide.

At this, Trip raised one eyebrow, ala T'Pol. "I'd told you that before."

Malcolm frowned. He tried to cross his arms across his chest, but was pulled up short by the IV.

"Careful," Trip said softly.

Malcolm let his arms fall to his sides. Then he wiped his free hand across his eyes. "I'd thought it was a dream," he said, his voice gone flat.

Now Trip had to smile. "Sorry."

Malcolm shifted nervously. "So what now, is this an hallucination?"

Trip shrugged, then he frowned, shaking his head. "Not unless we're both doing the hallucinating."

"So what is this, then?"

Trip shrugged again. "I don't know. A haunting?" Somehow, that didn't sound as funny aloud as it did in his head, and he winced. "Sorry."

"But you are dead, though. The captain told me -"

Trip held up a hand. "Yeah."

"Bloody hell," Malcolm said, looking defeated. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," Trip said again. He turned and grabbed his usual chair and sank into it. Then he frowned and sat up straight. "No. Wait. Why -?"

Malcolm made a frantic gesture with his hand. "I should have -"

And Trip could see where this was going. "No," he said definitively. "Absolutely not. This was not your fault."

"But -"

"No," Trip said again. "No one could have." When he saw Malcolm was about to speak, he cut across him angrily. "Damn it, Chang was right there," he said sharply, emphasising the last two words. "There was no way you could have done anything different."

Phlox stepped in beside Trip, his smile gone. His all-too-perceptive gaze rested on Malcolm. "Who are you talking to, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm's frantic eyes met Phlox's. His hands flew as he explained. "No one. Sorry. I was -" His eyes met Trip's again.

Phlox frowned and looked where Trip was standing. "What are you seeing?" When Malcolm didn't respond, Phlox spoke more sharply. "Mr. Reed."

At this, Malcolm turned to the doctor. "Trip," Malcolm finally said, his voice shaking. "I see Trip."

Now it was Phlox's turn to raise an eyebrow.

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