As a reminder, I mentioned in my notes for Chapter 1 that there was violence toward a child. Though it doesn't happen in this chapter, there will be details of some of the injuries the little guy sustained. Just wanted to offer fair warning: the aliens who kidnapped him were not gentle.
Some of the little fella's thoughts will be revealed more directly—look for bracketed italics, and be forewarned that he doesn't have a full grasp on pronunciation (or syntax) yet. And remember the bit about listening in the previous chapter? Lehrites don't always listen with their ears...but Malcolm doesn't know that. Yet.
Okay...here's hoping I didn't leave any shuttlepod-sized gaps or glitches in this installment...
Chapter Eight: Sickbay
The few who witnessed the sight had enough sense of self-preservation to say nothing as a tousle-headed Lt. Reed, clad only in a Starfleet-issue bathrobe and blue skivvies, strode barefoot down the corridor toward Sickbay carrying the alien child.
Before leaving Decon Malcolm had hurriedly tossed on the robe, then used the blanket to fashion a makeshift garment to defend the boy's modesty as well as help keep the tot warm. His efforts had turned off looking vaguely togalike but the lieutenant was less concerned with appearance and more with function, and the child genuinely seemed to like it judging from the huge grin that had plastered itself on his little face. Then, still beaming, the boy slipped the strap of his pouch over his head and raised his arms for Malcolm to pick him up, twining both arms firmly around Malcolm's neck and placing his legs around either side of the man's torso. With one arm wrapped across the tot's back and the other under the tiny derriere a robed, unshod Reed had set out for his destination.
It hadn't taken long for the tyke to use one hand to begin a further exploration of the lieutenant's face and head. He quickly became intrigued by Malcolm's ears, fingers of his left hand delicately probing and tracing every millimeter of the man's right ear while Malcolm struggled mightily to keep his composure. The boy had inadvertently discovered one of the lieutenant's best-kept secrets: his ears were more than a bit ticklish.
When he felt he could bear it no longer—and had insured that there were no others in the corridor—Malcolm stopped and looked the child in the eyes, voice gentle as he spoke. "See here…I'm quite flattered that you find my ear so fascinating, but I really must ask you to please stop doing that." Innocent, long-lashed eyes blinked back at him and elongated slender ears perked forward as the small, delicate fingers froze in place on his ear. Several heartbeats passed before the fingers withdrew from Malcolm's ear and began rubbing slowly up and down the length of his nose. The man sighed: he'd take what he could get. "Thank you. That's much better." The duo continued on their way, curious fingers stroking Malcolm's nose a bit more before probing his lips, jaw line, and throat, his Adam's apple proving to be at least as intriguing as his ear had been.
As they approached the main doors to Sickbay the boy's attention shifted. Leaning to the side he looked down at Malcolm's feet, and his eyes went wide. Squirming in the lieutenant's arms the boy began gesturing urgently at the floor as Reed stopped walking, struggling to keep his grip on the child. Urgent but faint squeaks emanated from his lively burden, the gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.
"It's all right," Malcolm tried to calm the child, voice strained by the struggle. "I'm not going to drop you, I promise. But you have to stop…wriggling about." The boy was oblivious to the man's plea, seemingly desperate to get down. Malcolm almost lost his hold, then lost his patience. "Stop that!" he snapped, instantly regretting it as the boy froze in his arms, frightened eyes staring at him and filling with tears as the slender ears drooping dejectedly alongside the little head. Oh...bloody hell.
"Hear now," Malcolm said softly, "it's all right. I'm not angry with you, but you gave me a bit of a fright. With all that wiggling about I almost dropped you. If that happened you might have been injured, or even re-injured that foot of yours," he added, motioning with his head toward the bandaged hoof. "We've almost reached Sickbay, so you just need to hold still for a bit longer, all right?" The boy sniffled as he seemed to weigh the man's words—or perhaps his mood—before planting his left thumb firmly in his mouth and tugging his right ear with his free hand.
"I'm sorry I shouted," Reed continued, sick at heart. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Forgive me?" Golden eyes regarded him cautiously, horizontal pupils gradually shrinking back to their normal size. Malcolm, meanwhile, was desperate to secure the boy's forgiveness before Trip—or anyone else—showed up to witness the aftermath of his blunder. The boy stared unblinking at him for what seemed a lifetime, thumb still firmly ensconced in his mouth and right hand still tugging nervously at his ear.
"I'm truly sorry to have frightened you. I can't promise that I'll never shout again, but you have my word of honor that I'm not going to harm you. You really are safe here," Malcolm tried to reassure the tot, lifting his hand from the boy's back to give the small face a light, comforting stroke for good measure. Relief washed over him as the golden eyes at last blinked and twinkled happily back at him. Reed gave the fuzzy cheek another tender rub and the boy ceased his ear tugging to lay his hand on the man's cheek.
"I'd heard that Lehrites are usually very quick to forgive," came the doctor's voice from the doorway to Sickbay. "That piece of information seems to have been correct, hmm?"
A chagrined lieutenant slowly turned to face the grinning Denobulan. "Phlox...I was just...we just had a little, um, misunderstanding," Malcolm stumbled over an explanation. "He thought I was going to drop him, and I fear I got a bit flustered..."
The doctor waved a dismissive hand. "No need to explain, Lieutenant. I do have children, you know," he reminded him before motioning him forward. "They do sometimes give adults reason to speak rather loudly, but I think you handled the situation quite well for a novice. Come along, let's have a look at him."
As they entered Sickbay Malcolm risked a glance at the still-grinning Denobulan. "How long have you been standing there, anyhow?" Reed asked. The Denobulan's smile grew wider in silent reply, making Malcolm's heart sink. If that grin was any indication, the doctor had witnessed the entire horrid event. "Um...Doctor? You're not going to mention what happened to anyone...are you?"
Phlox chuckled. "You needn't concern yourself, Lieutenant. I believe it would be acceptable to extend doctor/patient confidentiality to cover this particular situation. Now," he instructed, patting the imaging chamber's exam table, "set him down here. Hello, young man," he addressed the child, smiling warmly. "I am Doctor Phlox, and I'm going to take excellent care of you, have no fear." The boy looked up at him and smiled politely but then cast his gaze at the floor by Malcolm's feet. The men exchanged puzzled looks.
"That's what he did in the corridor," Malcolm told Phlox. "He looked down at the floor and started struggling to get down. I suspect he thought he was up too high and believed I was going to drop him."
"Most peculiar—nothing I've read about them indicates that Lehrites are afraid of heights. Quite the opposite, in fact. They are reputed to be skilled and rather exuberant climbers." The Denobulan studied his patient a moment then motioned to the nearby counter. "Would you please bring me that scanner, Lieutenant?" The boy's eyes followed Malcolm's feet as the man walked away and when Reed turned to come back the child gasped, pointing excitedly at the lieutenant's bare feet. Phlox watched this with growing interest, at last chuckling as Malcolm looked at where the boy was pointing.
"What's wrong?" Reed asked before looking up at Phlox. "I'm not sure what you find so amusing, Doctor. I chose to do without slippers for the same reason I chose to simply put on a bathrobe rather than take the extra time to get dressed—I was trying to get the boy here a little more quickly. It isn't as though you've never seen a person's feet before."
"Well, yes," Phlox agreed, still snickering, "I have seen human feet before, but I suspect our little friend here has not. And considering how much different your foot structure is from his, I would imagine he finds your feet to be extremely interesting. They are a highly inquisitive people, you know."
Malcolm self-consciously wiggled his toes, drawing enthusiastic hand-clapping from the Lehrite. He stared at the boy a few seconds before he chuckled, too. "So...in the corridor, when I thought he was afraid of being dropped...you're saying he wanted to look at my feet?" he asked as he crossed the room and handed the scanner to Phlox. The boy's eyes remained fixed on his toes the entire time.
"So it would seem," Phlox said as he began taking preliminary scans of the child. The Lehrite blissfully ignored the doctor, focusing wholly on Malcolm's feet and clapping gleefully with every movement of the lieutenant's toes.
Reed perched on the table alongside the boy, holding his legs out in front of him so the child could get a better look. "Like those, do you?" he asked, looking at his own feet and giving his toes another wiggle. The Lehrite clapped again before stretching his own legs out to begin a side-by-side comparison. He gestured to Malcolm's feet, held up a hand and wiggled his little fingers, then pointed again to the man's feet.
Reed smiled at the questioning look the boy was giving him. "They are called toes," he informed the lad, flexing the appendages for emphasis. Clapping with delight the boy looked back up at him, beaming. He then motioned to his own feet, flexing the uninjured one at the ankle before looking at Malcolm, wriggling his fingers again and shrugging. "Oh...I see," Reed replied after a few seconds. "You can't wiggle your toes." It sounded absurd as soon as he said it: the boy had no toes to wiggle. The tot seemed to take it in stride, though, merely nodding a confirmation before motioning for the man to again wiggle his toes. Malcolm readily complied, eager to keep the child both content and distracted from the doctor's examination. This time, though, after the initial happy clapping the boy became contemplative, nose scrunching up as he scratched thoughtfully behind his ear.
Phlox noticed the concerned look on Reed's face. "I believe I know what's troubling him," the doctor offered as he completed his scan. "You've done something to entertain him and he's not certain how to reciprocate."
"He doesn't need to reciprocate. Good lord, all I did was wriggle my toes. I owed him at least that much in light of what happened in the corridor."
The doctor smiled. "As I understand it, Lehrites are firm believers in quid pro quo when it comes to repaying a kindness. It would be considered rude for him to fail to reimburse you in some manner." The men watched as the boy continued staring at Reed's feet until at last the tot patted urgently on Malcolm's knee and gestured to be helped down from the table. Standing, Reed complied with the request. Phlox moved to help as well and the boy was soon standing on one leg, holding the edge of the exam table with one hand, his back to the men. Carefully lifting the section of blanket covering his bottom and bending over slightly the boy made sure his tail was showing before giving the little appendage a vigorous shake.
Laughing, Malcolm hoisted the smiling Lehrite back onto the table. "I think that makes us even," he chuckled to the tot, "though I hope you're not planning on mooning too many other crew members." Seeing the puzzled look on the doctor's face he tried to explain. "When you intentionally expose your buttocks to someone, it's called 'mooning'. Some do it as a prank, and some use it as a way to insult someone they dislike or disagree with. I must say, though, I've never seen it used as a method of payment before today."
"Well, you must admit," Phlox chortled as Sickbay's doors opened to admit Commander Tucker, "he did wiggle something which you cannot, much as you did for him. Now, I'd like to get him into the imaging chamber and get a better look at his injuries." The doctor made a mental note to look into this mooning thing more thoroughly. Humans had such a wide array of quaint, fascinating tribal rituals and customs he'd yet to learn about, and this certainly sounded like one that warranted further study.
"What did he wiggle?" the engineer asked as he strode over to the exam table, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "What did I miss?"
Malcolm shook his head with a smile. "Just a little quid pro quo. I'll fill you in later. Right now," he said to the boy, gently easing the little one's upper body down onto the table, "you have to lie back and relax." The tot began to comply but then saw the cavernous hole in the wall behind him and wrapped his arms around the lieutenant's neck, obviously frightened by this new development.
"See here," Malcolm objected gently, "there's no need for that. It's just the imaging chamber—it's quite painless." A single pained whimper made the boy's doubts abundantly clear. As Reed silently debated physically prying the lad loose he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I got an idea, Mal," Trip offered. "Pick 'im up." Not that Malcolm had much choice in that: the tyke had all but welded himself to the lieutenant, so as Reed stepped away from the exam table the boy came with him.
Trip patted the Lehrite's shoulder to get his attention. "Hey there little fella, just watch me, okay? It's easy, an' Malcolm's right—it won't hurt a bit." Stretching out on the table, Trip nodded to the doctor. "Go ahead, Doc." Phlox activated the chamber and the engineer, smiling at the boy the whole time, slid into the hole.
The Lehrite buried his head against Malcolm's shoulder and sobbed as the wall closed after the man, but Reed tenderly cupped the child's chin in his hand and lifted the little head, motioning to the monitor. "It's all right," he assured the boy as he pointed at the readouts. "See there? He's perfectly fine. It should only be a minute or so, and then he'll be back out here with us."
Easing his grip on Malcolm the snuffling tot seemed dubious at first but then leaned toward the display, eyes narrowing in concentration and head cocking to one side as he studied the image. He started looking from the readout to the chamber door then back again, eyes now wide open and ears pitching forward in curiosity. As he shifted his gaze to Phlox and Malcolm the men both smiled reassuringly at him, but he still appeared unsure about the whole thing, absently stroking the pouch still hanging around his neck.
Deactivating the chamber after a minute Phlox moved to the table and made a show of helping the grinning engineer get up. "There...you see?" the doctor said. "The commander is absolutely fine. Your turn now, hmm?" The boy's ears drooped again as he looked to Malcolm for a reprieve and got none.
"The doctor's right," Reed told him matter-of-factly, gently placing him back on the exam table. "You've seen how it works, and you know it won't hurt you."
"Yeah," Trip added, "there's nothin' to it, little guy. You'll be finished in no time. Nothin' ta worry about."
Malcolm could see in the boy's eyes that he was still nervous. The lieutenant knew how his father would have handled the situation if this were one of the Reed children—he'd have simply plunked them down and expected them to...well...be Reeds. None of this mollycoddling nonsense for his brood, no sir. Stuart Reed would be appalled that his son was showing so much tolerance for a child's groundless fears. Malcolm smiled to himself at the thought as he sat on the table next to the Lehrite and turned to face the apprehensive tyke. He, after all, was not his father. And in this particular area prayed that he would never be anything like his father.
He cradled the fuzzy face in his hands and bent close, his voice velvet as he spoke. "I want you to listen to me, all right? Really listen. Can you do that?" The boy nodded in reply, his expression changing from anxiousness to something Malcolm couldn't quite identify. Blissful relief, or perhaps happy anticipation? Not that it mattered, he supposed. Reed was just thankful that the tot was paying attention and wasn't scared witless. Small, warm hands mimicked his own, delicately embracing his face and pulling him slightly closer. The youngster's guileless eyes fixed on his, their golden hue shimmering like tiger's eye gems. A fellow could get lost in those eyes, Malcolm thought.
"Are you listening?" Another slow nod came in reply, adoration now clear on the child's face. "Good lad. Now, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. It's a simple procedure, and I'll be right here waiting for you when you come out of the chamber. It absolutely will not hurt you. It's perfectly—"
Their foreheads touched, and Malcolm felt the room fade away for an instant. A pleasant tingling sensation went through him, and then the room came slowly back into focus as the boy's hands slid away from his face.
"—safe," he finished in a hushed, confused voice. Unsure what had happened, he looked up into the concerned faces of Phlox, Trip, and Captain Archer. That in itself made him immediately uneasy: he had no recollection of the captain entering the room.
"Lieutenant...how are you feeling?" the doctor hesitantly asked as he scanned Reed's head.
Disoriented, Malcolm considered his answer carefully. "I'm...not entirely certain," he finally decided. "A bit foggy, to be quite honest. Why? What's happened?"
"That's what I'm trying to determine," Phlox answered. "What do you remember?"
Reed had to think about that for a moment. "I was reassuring our young friend, here, that the imaging chamber wouldn't hurt him. We...bumped heads, I believe, and things got a little...fuzzy. It only lasted a second or two, though." The uneasy looks that the three men exchanged didn't exactly set the lieutenant's mind at ease. "Would someone kindly tell me what's going on?"
Captain Archer finally broke the silence. "Malcolm...the two of you 'bumped heads' just as I entered Sickbay, but it wasn't for a second or two. We tried for almost a full minute to get a response out of you."
"But that's not possible," Malcolm objected as he stood. "It was only a few seconds. At least, it only seemed to last that long." He looked down at the boy, seeking an answer there. The tot merely sat there, eyes closed, looking cherubic and blissful.
Reed laid an arm on the Lehrite's shoulder. "D'von," he said gently, "do you know what just happened?" The hairy angelic face turned slowly upward, eyes sliding open at a leisurely pace. He gave a dazed smile before his eyelids grew heavy and slid shut again. Stupefied grin still on his face, he laid back and stretched out on the exam table.
Malcolm closed his eyes to gather his thoughts, and several unbidden images flashed through his head: picking the boy up on the alien ship, cradling the tiny body in Decon, carrying him through the corridors of Enterprise. A single word echoed in his mind throughout the uninvited mental slideshow: {safe.}
"Uh...Malcolm?" Trip's concerned voice crept through the fog. "You okay?"
Reed grudgingly opened his eyes and stifled the impulse to blurt out that he was fine. "I think so, yes," he finally managed. "Just...rather tired, and worried about D'von. Sorry."
"You called him D'von," Archer said as Malcolm rose from the exam table. "Is that his name?"
"Hm? What? Oh...yes," the lieutenant answered distractedly, unable to look away from the contented little person on the table. "Doctor...are you ready to start the scans yet?" Phlox nodded wordlessly, no longer entirely convinced that he would be scanning the correct patient, and Malcolm stroked the boy's cheek. Eyes still closed, D'von smiled.
"Now you just stay still in there, all right? You'll be done in no time," he told D'von. "I'll be right here waiting for you. Understand?" He got a tiny nod in reply and stepped back from the table, sighing as it slid into the chamber.
{safe. safe. safe.}
"Malcolm," Jon said, getting no response. Looking to Trip and Phlox, Archer cleared his throat and spoke louder. "Malcolm...can you hear me?" he asked. The lieutenant nodded absently then as if suddenly slapped awake turned to face his CO.
"Yes sir. I apologize, sir, I...seem to be having a little trouble focusing at the moment. You were saying?"
More concerned looks flashed back and forth between the doctor, engineer, and captain before Archer patiently continued. "You said his name is D'von," he stated simply.
Malcolm nodded. "Yes sir."
"How do you know that, Lieutenant?"
Reed started to answer, stopped to puzzle over it a moment, then at last snapped to attention and answered. "He told me, sir."
Captain Archer shot another look at Phlox and Trip before continuing. "Relax, Malcolm," Jon sighed. "When did he tell you his name?"
"Just now, sir, when we were—" Malcolm's voice faded as he realized what he'd been about to say. "When we were talking to each other," he finally finished, voice softened by the absurdity of the statement.
"Mal," Trip gently reminded him, "the little fella hasn't said a word since we found 'im. Some squeaks and squeals, and one really effective scream in Decon that I'm sure you remember, but that's it." Tucker expected an explosive reply to his having pointed out the obvious, but the Armory Officer was unnaturally subdued.
"I know," Reed whispered. "All the same...I heard him." He looked to the doctor, hoping to find confirmation that he hadn't gone mad, but the expression on Phlox's face didn't help.
"I wish I had an explanation, gentlemen, but I don't. The scans I took don't show anything radically abnormal in the lieutenant's brain activity, but something definitely happened when their heads touched. I just don't have enough information yet to determine exactly what happened."
"You said there wasn't anything radically abnormal," Malcolm said worriedly. "But you found something out of the norm, didn't you?"
Phlox tipped his head in a partial shrug. "There are some minor variations in your brain wave activity, yes."
"How serious are these variations?" Archer asked.
The Denobulan shook his head. "I'm not certain yet, but they don't appear to be life-threatening. Aside from the lieutenant's slight disorientation he seems to have suffered no ill effects from...whatever it was." Phlox turned his attention to the imaging chamber's display as Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly.
"I do appreciate the concern, sirs, but I believe the doctor is correct." He looked at Archer and Tucker. "I'm a little muddleheaded at present, and a bit tired, but aside from that I feel fine...more or less. Right now I'm far more concerned with D'von's condition, so can we please get him tended to first? I'm certain Phlox will sort out my minor variations in due course. Is it safe to assume," he asked, turning to the medical officer, "that I will be a guest of Sickbay for the evening?"
With a knowing smile and a glance at the lieutenant, Phlox nodded. "Oh absolutely, Lt. Reed. Make yourself comfortable." As the doctor returned his attention to D'von's readings Malcolm began pacing like an expectant father, stopping only when Trip put a restraining arm on his shoulder.
"Yer makin' a rut in the deck plating, Malcolm," the engineer said in a hushed voice.
Reed suppressed a chuckle and both men smiled, but Malcolm grew serious as he noticed Archer at the comm. "What's the captain doing?" he asked quietly.
"Callin' T'Pol. Outdated or not, the Vulcan Database might have some information that'll be helpful. He's gonna have her go over it an' see what she can find."
Malcolm nodded, glanced at the still-closed imaging chamber, and sighed. "It didn't hurt," he said. Noting the puzzled look on Trip's face he explained, "Whatever happened when D'von and I bumped heads. It wasn't painful. And it only felt as though a second or two passed. You're sure it was longer?"
Trip nodded. "Phlox timed it. Just over fifty-four seconds. Felt like forever. Doc didn't think pullin' ya apart would be a good idea, and biosigns were stable on both of ya, so we just...waited. It was weird, though," he added, "after a couple seconds yer biosigns kinda...synchronized."
Malcolm shook his head. "I don't follow."
"Your respiration, heart rate, blood pressure...they synchronized with each other. His dropped a little, yours went up a little, an' they...met in the middle. Phlox said he's never seen anything like it."
"He's not the only one." The men fell silent for a moment, Malcolm staring at the imaging chamber and Trip staring at Malcolm until the silence became too much to bear.
"He talked to ya?" Trip asked at last.
"Hmm? Sorry," Reed apologized, tearing his gaze from the wall to his friend. "You know, I'm not sure. I mean, I know he didn't talk to me, and yet..." He struggled to remember exactly what had happened but had to admit defeat. "It's like grasping at phantoms. Something happened in that fifty-four seconds but I can't for the life of me recollect what, and the more I try the less I remember. Obviously he didn't speak, but I feel as though he did. And he somehow told me his name, I know he did. How else would I know it?" One hand tiredly rubbing the back of his neck, Malcolm watched the doctor, whose attention was wholly on the imaging chamber's readout.
The Denobulan's features had darkened considerably. "Though I don't yet know what happened between the lieutenant and D'von I'm afraid there is a very good reason why this child hasn't spoken," he announced grimly. The men drew close as the doctor pointed to the boy's throat on the display. "His vocal cords have been damaged."
"Yeah," Trip offered, "Malcolm noticed in Decon that the poor little guy had a boo-boo on his throat."
"Some sort of accident?" Archer asked.
The frowning doctor shook his head. "They appear to have been intentionally cut."
"Ya mean, surgically?" Trip asked, incredulous.
Again Phlox shook his head. "I would be hard-pressed to call such butchery surgical in nature, Mr. Tucker. The edges of the incision are jagged. A surgical implement would have cut much more cleanly. There is no indication that I can see of any attempt at post-surgical care, not even any sign that the incision was adequately sutured afterward. And I cannot fathom any reason for such an act other than to simply rob him of the ability to speak—there would certainly be no medical reason that I am aware of. I would imagine that any sound he is capable of making is at least somewhat painful for him to produce."
Drawing their attention to the hoof, the doctor continued. "The puncture wound on the bottom of his hoof also appears to have been intentionally inflicted, probably with a knife of some sort. If he had simply stepped on something sharp enough to enter his foot it is highly unlikely that he would have kept stepping until it had gone in this far. I know I certainly wouldn't have."
"What did they do to his horn?" Malcolm asked, doubting that he wanted to know the answer.
Phlox took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to steady himself before continuing. "A Lehrite's horns are designed to withstand a great deal of force, as are their skulls. You can see here," he said, pointing out several areas on the screen, "that there are several microfractures along the horn's base, as well as those which are visible without the use of scanners. There are several areas on the skull which also show signs of microfractures. Though these aren't life-threatening injuries for him they are severe, and could not have been produced by a mere fall or by bumping into something. Significant force would have been required to do this much damage to such dense bone structure, and there had to have been multiple blows judging from these readings. If he were human, a single blow with this much force would have been fatal."
Malcolm felt the blood drain from his head and leaned a hand on the wall for support. Trip's hands seized his shoulders as Jon brought a chair.
Reed shook his head as the men sat him down. "I'm sorry, sirs, I'm not...I'm not quite sure what happened. I just felt—"
"Don't worry about it," Captain Archer interrupted, his voice strained. Embarrassed by his moment of light-headedness, the lieutenant glanced at his superiors to find their faces uncharacteristically pale as well.
"That poor little fella," Trip at last managed. "An' here I'd hoped them rippin' out his earring was the worst of it. How could anybody do this kinda stuff to him?" Malcolm shook his head, closing his eyes against the thought of it.
Behind his eyelids he saw blue. Soft, glowing blue, and trusting golden eyes staring at him as the sound of his own slightly muffled voice floated through his head. Safe. You're safe now. He felt himself grow calm and relaxed, and at last opened his eyes to find Trip staring down at him.
"Feelin' a little better?" Not trusting his voice Malcolm nodded, standing as the exam table slid out of the imaging chamber. D'von appeared to be sleeping but his eyes opened as Reed laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Welcome back," Malcolm greeted him softly, taking hold of the boy's hand. "You see there? That took hardly any time at all. Now," he explained, "Dr. Phlox has found some injuries that need tending, like that foot of yours. So you need to listen to him and do as he says, all right?"
Trip couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Look who's tellin' the little guy ta follow doctor's orders," he murmured humorously. D'von smiled at the engineer's comment, stroking Malcolm's hand.
Phlox approached with a hypospray. "Hello again, D'von. This is just a little something that will make you sleep for a while, so I can treat your injuries without causing you any discomfort. If you'll just stay still a moment—" As Phlox reached toward him D'von sat up in a panic and wrapped his arms around Malcolm. The doctor stepped back, startled by the child's reaction, and Malcolm looked into D'von's eyes.
"What is it?" he asked. "What's wrong? Phlox won't hurt you, you know. He's trying to help you."
{End-gree wiv me. End-gree hurts. Why end-gree wiv me?}
Lt. Reed gave Phlox a puzzled look, and for a fleeting instant could feel it, too. "He doesn't know why you're angry with him."
Bewildered, Phlox looked to Archer and Tucker before studying both the boy and the lieutenant. "I assure you," he finally objected, "I'm not the least bit angry with him."
Malcolm met the doctor's gaze, looking at the Denobulan as if seeing him for the first time. There was no accusation in Reed's eyes, nor in his voice as he spoke. Indeed, he sounded as perplexed as the doctor looked. "You're angry with someone," the lieutenant stated. "D'von thinks it's him."
Phlox scrutinized the Lehrite until at last an answer dawned on him. Pocketing the hypospray he wheeled a chair over to the exam table and sat in front of D'von. "My dear child," he said tenderly, "I am so sorry. After telling these people about your empathic ability I forgot about it myself. You are quite correct," he admitted, casting a concerned look at Malcolm before fixing his eyes back on his patient. "I am angry. Very angry, in fact...but not at you. I am angry at the people who injured you, and I sincerely apologize for exposing you to that anger."
D'von thoughtfully studied the Denobulan's face. It took several seconds for the fear to leave the Lehrite's eyes. {Not end-gree wiv me? Ho-kay good.} The boy slowly loosed his grip on Malcolm's arm, tentatively reaching for the doctor's hand but stopping short. {No-blans dunnint like touches.} Phlox smiled at the boy and bridged the gap, briefly holding D'von's hand before releasing it and retrieving the hypospray from his pocket.
D'von smiled back, head tipping to one side. He then looked at Malcolm. {Liddle touches ho-kay maybe sometimes? No-blans are very confoozing.}
Reed nodded in agreement, opting to remain silent rather than acknowledge in front of the others exactly how many of the lad's thoughts he was apparently privy to. Part of him felt very off-kilter, since he didn't know when one of D'von's thoughts would pop up nor how clear the thought would be. And knowing what the doctor had been feeling had been quite disconcerting, even though the sensation had passed in less than a second.
In a tiny corner of his mind, though, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to have the boy's thoughts flitting in and out. If he admitted that to the others they would doubtless think him mad; the look he'd gotten from the doctor a few moments ago confirmed that much for him. He felt sure that fully revealing this new development would also divert Phlox from caring for D'von, so for now he would keep still about it. Once the lad was tended to he'd make a clean breast of it with the Denobulan.
Besides, he thought, whatever connection had been formed wouldn't likely be permanent. It would presumably fade after a while and everything would be back to normal. And in the meantime he'd be able to at least know the boy's wants and needs without having to guess at the meaning of various hand gestures and such. It didn't appear to him that there were any great drawbacks to the situation, except perhaps the potential for being easily distracted. And I certainly possess enough control over my own mind to compensate for that, Malcolm told himself as he fought to concentrate on the doctor's words to D'von.
"Now as I said," Phlox addressed the child, again holding up the hypospray, "This will make you sleep so I can tend your injuries. When you wake up you'll be in one of those beds over there." The doctor motioned to the row of beds beyond the exam table. "Lt. Reed will be close by, and I certainly won't be very far away. Do you understand?" D'von nodded but as the doctor moved to give him the shot the boy held up a hand to stop him. The Lehrite pointed to the tear in his left ear, a questioning look in his eyes.
"He has an earring," Trip told the doctor. "It's in his bag right now."
"Ah, I see," Phlox nodded with a fatherly smile. "Yes, that is one of the injuries I'll be mending for you. Once the tissue has healed we'll see about putting your earring back in its proper place. Now, is there anything else?" D'von thought about it a moment before stretching out on the exam table and taking hold of Malcolm's hand. Tipping his head back, the child offered the doctor easy access to his throat.
Pride swelled within the Armory Officer at the tot's display of courage. "There's a good lad," he encouraged as Phlox administered the shot. D'von's eyelids flickered then slid shut, and Malcolm realized a drawback he hadn't previously considered as he felt himself losing consciousness as well.