A/N: I must admit, it was a relief to start writing these chapters that will bring Trip through his recovery. I love the character so much that, at times, it was quite unsettling to put him through such an awful ordeal. As I said in my earlier note, his recovery won't be easy - but at least in this chapter, he's heading in the right direction.

As always, I hope you enjoy!

Violations

Chapter Eleven - The Strength Of True Courage

Again, Trip woke slowly, into the same comforting warmth. The same aroma of freshly made coffee. And, of course, the same face, as Jon sat carefully beside him, and offered him a reassuring smile.

"Hey, you're looking better for that sleep. Are - Are you feeling it, Trip? Better, I mean. Can I get you anything?"

A tad too late, Jon realized that he wasn't quite ready yet, to answer two such closely asked questions. After ten hours in deepest, flat out sleep, it was going to take a few more moments for him to climb fully out of it. Finally, though, a faint smile answered the first question. An equally sleepy voice answered the second.

"S'me o' that'd be nice."

Roused by a mugful of Chef's finest coffee, Trip started to look, and feel, rather more human. Maybe it was Jon's presence, or the effects of that coffee, but something else was trying to return too. Interest in his surroundings. That famously insatiable curiosity. Watching the stars, still streaking past his window, he frowned for a moment, then finally spoke.

"If you're here wi' me, then who's… who's cap'nin' the ship?"

So grateful now, for all those years he'd spent tuning in to that accent, Jon smiled as he refilled his coffee. He knew some people still struggled with it, even when Trip was wide awake. But he'd understood enough of this still sleep-thickened drawl to make a reasonabe stab at answering it.

"Well, T'Pol's got the conn, Trip. She's on the Bridge, taking care of that, while I…"

"…take care o' me," Trip finished for him, through one of the most precious sights he'd ever seen.

Not just the smile now, but the greater breakthrough beyond it. Silent gratitude for his presence. And in the soft words that followed, the clearest sign yet that his friend was starting to fight back.

"I'm way too old for such coddlin', Jon, but I'm… I'm glad you're here."

Smiling too now, Jon started to reply. Then he thought better of it, and instinctively waited instead – for the quieter, hesitant question that reminded them of the more serious issues they still had to face.

"So, she – she knows? 'bout this, an'… an' what they did to me?"

Already prepared for this moment, Jon nodded while placing his hand gently on Trip's shoulder. To his relief, he was becoming more and more comfortable with this contact now. He even seemed to welcome it. Considering what he was about to say, Jon just hoped this latest sign of healing trust would continue.

"Yes, Trip, she does. So does Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis, and Lieutenant Hess," he said at last, keeping his hand resolutely where it was, even as he felt the tension that had inevitably flinched under it. He fully understood its cause, but he had to make his friend understand why telling them had been so necessary. And, more importantly, he had to know how anxious they all were, to help him through his recovery.

"If we're to find them, Trip… stop them from doing this again… well, I felt they had to know."

To his relief, Trip was already nodding his understanding. As he'd expected, though, he didn't reply. Instead, he glanced down at his side. Solid and firm again, under one of his favourite shirts.

Normal.

This simple definition made him smile now, as Trip ran his fingers where its opposite had once been. The 'condition' he'd been put in hadn't exactly been a secret. Hell, it had been the talk of the ship. It really didn't surprise him, then, that its most senior officers had been told the truth about its cause. And as a quiet voice now reminded him, there'd be differences this time. Small, but crucial differences.

"It's just them, Trip. No-one else knows about this. And I promise you, this time it'll stay that way."

He'd meant it, too. Every word. Trip only had to see the complete seriousness in his eyes to know that. But as Trip then reminded him, through another of those rueful smiles, that little horse had long since bolted.

"We're on a starship, Jon. An' in case you forgot, we've been down this road before."

There'd been enough humour on his face to take the sting out of his words, but Jon had still felt it. Without his support, or intervention to stop it, Trip had endured days of complete humiliation. So to see him now, facing the same thing again so calmly, threw him out on the mother of loops – especially when Trip followed that little beauty up with one that threw him out even further.

"'sides, when you let Malcolm loose on that ship, people are gonna start wonderin' what's goin' on."

Another excellent point, that didn't just surprise Jon now. It made him smile too, so very proudly. He'd always seen Trip as one of the bravest people he'd ever known. Now he was just… the bravest.

Damn smart too. Much smarter than people fooled by that 'awww, shucks. ma'am...' charm gave him credit for. And, of course, he was absolutely right. When Malcolm set his sights on Trenal's ship - God, yes. All hell was going to break loose.

"If you're sure, Trip, then… yes. I think telling the rest of the crew is the right thing to do," he said at last, sliding his arm more fully around his shoulders, and meeting that resilience with a smile of pure pride. "And you can be sure of this too… every single person on this ship is going to get you through this, Trip. Every step of the way."

It was Trip's turn to smile now, as he found fresh strength and courage for what he'd just agreed to do. As Jon knew himself, it would pave the way for the greater challenge that he could still face afterwards. If they found the Xyrillian ship, if they managed to get it, and its renegade crew, back to face justice – well, Jon knew he'd almost certainly have to live through the whole ordeal, all over again.

Still, he thought, chastising himself for not practising what he'd preached the previous day, they'd cross that mother of bridges when they came to it. For now, though, he needed to re-build the smaller bridges that would enable them both to get there. And as with all such cases of construction, the foundations for this first one had to be faultless. All of which led him, rather nervously, into one of the most crucial speeches he was ever likely to make.

"But until you're ready to do that, Trip… if you want, we'll do it together… well, I need to give you one hell of an apology."