Tucker's Perspective:
He didn't know how long he'd been awake, but he was positive that if you measured the pounding in his skull, you'd know to the hundredth second. It just seemed to worsen continually, no respite from its aching torture.
It took great effort, but eventually the whites of his eyes were revealed, open just a crack as he squinted against the blinding light.
He lifted his leaden arm, shaking as he gripped the bed side for support, face contorted as the flashes of pain lanced up his arm and through his body.
Bracing himself for the inevitable as he prepared to launch into a sitting position, he maneuvered his back to the side against his pillow, wincing at the cracks of his spine. He must have really been lying here a while.
Best to get this over with fast, he propped himself against the pillow fully, hands gripping the sides of the bio-bed. With a shaky breath he bolted up against the wall behind him, pushing off either side of the bed-
"Argghhhh! Dammit!" The searing agony that lanced through his entire self-
Another yelp spoke for his thoughts, with body quivering he collapsed to the mattress, landing on his back.
As he gazed at the spotless white ceiling, the dizziness he had worked up wreaked havoc on the few parts of him that weren't spiking with white hot pain.
Suddenly a head obscured his vision, slightly blurry as she looked him over, the worry clearly evident on her face. She moved more to the side, probably checking his vitals or whatever doctors do these days.
Trip didn't bother to look in her direction, it wasn't worth the effort, or the pain.
"How-" he paused, taking another breath. His voice was raspy, enough to make him wince.
"How long?" he managed to cough out, his throat dry and hurting from the effort.
"Sir you just rest, we've taken care of everything."
Although he wanted to protest, and didn't believe that supposedly comforting bit of news. He really was too tired to deal with this crap right now, yeah, later sounded good.
Might as well be comfy, he thought as he settled himself further into the rock of a bed they kept in sickbay, eyelids sliding closed as he drifted into a deep sleep.
Soval's Perspective:
T'pol had been brought into the infirmary one hour and twelve minutes ago, Dr. T'pring's analysis coincided with that of the Denobulan's, extreme exposure to an unidentified neuro-toxin.
However, that had been her prognosis forty-seven minutes previously, as such Soval strode through the corridors, heading towards sickbay in order to ascertain a more detailed report on T'pol's condition.
As the door was reached without incident, a view of his officer was revealed upon the sections sliding from his path.
The sight was, disturbing, especially for a Vulcan of his indulgences. The various assortments of medical equipment surrounding and attached to her frame did not raise the Captain's hopes for a healthy recovery.
"Captain".
He tore his gaze away from the bio-bed, meeting Dr. T'pring's with as much detachment as he could muster against the growing emotional tide.
"Yes Doctor?" this did not seem an occasion to lift his eyebrow.
"We have arrived at a conclusion for Commander T'pol's condition, her neural pathways have been severely damaged-"
"I read your original report Doctor, what I need to know is why". He managed to keep most of the bite from his tone.
Her eyebrow elevated in response, "Trellium-D"…