Author Notes: Your feedback keep sme writing

Chapter 5

Malcolm jerked awake, heart hammering. Wildly, he scanned the clearing, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw both Trip and Archer sleeping in their makeshift campsite. He scrubbed at his face, attempting to get some feeling back into his body. He couldn't believe he had fallen asleep when he was supposed to be watching them! Stupid, stupid, stupid. As the week's events began filtering back into his mind, he unconsciously began to run through all the possible scenarios that could have occurred during his lapse in vigilance, each one worse than the last. With their captain incapacitated with a broken leg, and Trip still unconscious from his river episode, Malcolm was the only one who could get them out, and yet his aching limbs and tiring mind tended to disagree; all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a week.

Groaning slightly, Malcolm rose in an attempt to gather his thoughts. As his eyes fell on Archer, he felt like screaming. What on Earth had possessed him to tell that man anything? Why was he always telling him so many personal things? His mind soon filled in the blanks. The last time he had admitted anything as close to what he had the previous night he had honestly believed he would die pinned to the hull of their ship by a mine. No, Malcolm shook his head, that was not the case this time, they would get out.

A stirring brought Malcolm out of his thoughts. Jon had sat up, and was regarding him thoughtfully. There was silence for a moment, and then John nodded towards the sound of the roaring waterfall, just out of view, but most definitely not out of mind, "You should get something to drink; I was up earlier this morning to stretch my leg." He quirked a smile at Malcolm's worried look, "I didn't put any weight on the broken one – you would've heard something if I had. And if you're worried about falling asleep on watch, Malcolm, you're no good to us if you collapse of exhaustion."

Malcolm didn't reply, only nodding slightly before setting off in the direction of fresh water. His mind soon wandered to the problem of how to transport Trip if they failed to wake him. The engineer had made very little noise during the night, which alone was a point of great concern. The outspoken southerner just didn't seem right without his accompanying drawl and infectious laughter. Right now, Malcolm would even have put up with his snoring.

As he reached the riverbank, Malcolm crouched down on the damp earth, placing the knife down next to him in case he needed it quickly. Still half asleep, he splashed his face with the frigid water that lapped at the bank in small ripples extending from the plunge pool. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to banish the image of Trip disappearing into the depth of the water. He shook his head, sending small droplets of water flying from his hair into the air. He had to keep his mind on the present; the nightmares could haunt him all they wanted once they were back on Enterprise.

Bending to take a drink from the river, a shadow flitted in the corner of his eye. Straightening, his hand inching towards the knife, Malcolm scanned the area, but saw nothing. Shaking it off as a trick of his sleep deprived mind, he bent to drink-

-the world span, and Malcolm found himself pitching head first into the water. A new pain at his side quickly morphed into one of searing intensity, taking all his breath from him. Malcolm tried to draw breath, but a pressure on his back kept him under. As he breathed in the burning cold water, he lashed out with his elbow in a last ditch reflex action to try and dislodge the weight keeping him under. It worked.

Stars danced innocently across Malcolm's vision as he twisted in the water, scrambling up the sodden bank. He gagged, vomiting up what little he had in his stomach as his body rebelled against his near-drowning. Stomach acid mixed with river water as Malcolm's lungs strained to breathe oxygen. Falling weakly to his uninjured side, Malcolm twisted to see the same bat-like creature from two days ago hunched on a tree branch. It regarded him with amber eyes of startling clarity, and then began preening its slightly damaged wing, before it took off. Malcolm shivered from cold, pain and exhaustion. The intelligence in that creature's eyes had disturbed him, and right now, all he really wanted to do was get back to the others.

Positioning himself to stand, Malcolm almost cried out as his breath was once again stolen – this time by the burning pain in his side. Malcolm hissed as he regarded the wound. Four claw marks laced up his torso, from his ribs to his shoulder blade on his back. In addition, small puncture wounds marred Malcolm's back where the creature had held him under the water. Thankfully the puncture wounds were shallow, and had already stopped bleeding. In fact, they had taken on a cauterised look from what Malcolm could tell when he twisted to see the one on his left shoulder. The gashes left by the initial attack, however, were another story. The slightest movement on his part caused them to stretch, thus eliciting more pain and bleeding.

Frantically, Malcolm tried to work out what to do. If Archer saw him like this, the man would make them stay here until rescue, despite the fact that the chances of that were slim. With all three of them injured, Archer wouldn't risk further mishap by going on. Malcolm listened to the waterfall. It was loud, even at the camp, and he didn't remember yelling, so it was likely that Archer had no idea about the attack; even if the creature had made a noise, he would have brushed it off as belonging to the forest's constant sounds. All he had to do was hide his injury. Malcolm gave a grim smile; that he could do.

Ever since their first day of travelling, the men had taken to only wearing the top halves of their jumpsuits at night for extra warmth, letting them hang around their waists during the day. Stripping off his stained and torn vest which all personnel wore under their uniforms, Malcolm ripped the material so that it was in two large strips. The first, he folded carefully over the wound, flattening it. The other he used to tie the first piece in place. He smoothed them as well as possible so that they wouldn't show under his uniform, before pulling the dark material over it. He made one last check before making his way back to camp. It should be okay. Hopefully Archer would take his change in attire as some kind of duty thing kicking into his mind, or maybe that he was just cold, and the uniform was so muddy that any blood seeping through would go unnoticed. Malcolm sighed. He hoped.

Archer looked up, frowning at his officer's dishevelled appearance, "What happened to you? You're soaked!"

Malcolm smiled weakly, "I lost my footing on the bank. It's okay, sir, the water's shallow at the edge, I'm fine."

Archer nodded, "We should get moving." He gave Trip a sidelong glance before rising to his feet with the aid of his walking stick and the tree behind him.

Malcolm, meanwhile, bent down over the still engineer, hiding a wince as his wound sent a spike of pain through his body. Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, he called gently, "Trip. Trip, I need you to wake up for me. Please Trip." Malcolm sighed and made to rise, when he saw the body stir.

"Mal?" The voice was so weak and hoarse, almost lost on the wind, making Malcolm sure he had imagined it.

"Trip? Can you hear me?" A shiver ran through the body of the blond man, but then the eyes cracked open a degree, revealing dull blue eyes, "Listen, Trip, I know you're tired, but I need you to stay awake. We need to move, and I can't carry you, not that far. Nod if you understand."

Jon came up behind Malcolm, "How is he?"

"He knows we're here, but his skin is freezing to the touch. Sir, I think he's going into shock, if he hasn't done that already. Add a concussion…" He trailed off, "We need to get him walking. He needs medical attention."

"'Kay." The murmur was barely audible, but it came from Trip nonetheless.

Malcolm nodded, and then used all his strength to pull Trip into a sitting position, placing his friend's arm around his neck. Trip's eyes were closed, and his head barely remained upright. Malcolm's breath caught in his chest as his side screamed in pain, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. Swallowing to prevent any further nausea, Malcolm instructed Trip, "You're going to have to help us stand. I'll support most of your weight, but you need to help me, okay?" Trip gave the slightest of nods, "On three. One, two, three!"

Malcolm pushed up from the ground with Trip next to him. On the other side, Archer had grabbed under Trip's arm as soon as they were high enough to be within his reach. When they reached full height, Malcolm swayed, his vision greying for a second before clearing; thankfully it merely looked like he was adjusting to Trip's weight, which he was now almost fully supporting. He gave his Captain a nod, telling him to let go. Through gritted teeth, Malcolm regarded the path ahead, "You should go first sir, and we'll follow. Can you make it?"

Archer nodded, giving a weak smile, "I'll manage; you just keep up."

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Sometimes I feel I should give them a break, but then I just shake it off as a moment of madness:)... Please review!