16

Sickbay, E Deck, 0537 hours, August 18 2151

"What..." her voice was a dry whisper before she broke out, coughing.

Someone helped her sit up a little and put a glass of water to her lips. She took a few grateful sips, swallowing the cool water greedily at first and then in steady gulps, as whoever held the glass didn't seem about to take it away from her. When the water was almost gone, she let her head sink back into the pillow with a softly murmured "thanks."

"Don't mention it."

She opened her eyes at the voice. Everything was hazy, bright. Too bright to tell where the shapes around her ended and people began. She looked around sleepily, squinting and trying to make her eyes focus on him. Trying to focus on the source of the voice. Her eyes finally settled on a large, vaguely person-shaped blur that was hovering next to her bed.

"Reed?"

He eased her back down onto the bed, fluffing her pillow before he pulled his chair closer and sat down again. "No. Sorry t' disappoint ya, but it's just me."

She let her heavy lids fall closed and nodded almost imperceptibly. That southern drawl was recognizable anywhere. "Hey, Trip."

He leaned forward in his chair, smiling gently and feeling around for her hand. "Hey yourself. How are you?"

She shook her head, blinking slowly. "Alive, I guess. Sedated." She tried to smirk, but her muscles were too lax to cooperate. Correction; very sedated. What does Phlox have me on?

"Where's Reed?"

Trip laughed quietly. Despite their marked differences, in some ways Jean and Malcolm were just like two peas in a pod. One of those ways was their single-minded concern for each other. "He's in his quarters, prob'ly sleeping."

"Oh."

Trip thought that she didn't just sound tired, but disappointed, too. Disappointed that the lieutenant wasn't there. He twisted his mouth to one side. She should know that he had been there. After all, credit where credit's due, and Reed deserved a fair amount of it, considering how much time the man had spent sitting with her.

"He was sitting with you for a long time, but I took over so he could get some sleep."

She nodded, apparently content with that explanation. She didn't need to know how reluctant Reed had been to leave. What she needed was sleep, and worrying about anything would most likely keep her awake.

"Tell him I said 'hi'."

She murmured to the pillow, nuzzling her face into it as she felt the painkillers tugging her back into unconsciousness. She cracked one eye open partway when the soft, warm weight of a blanket settled over her. Trip smoothed it over her shoulders, smiling when she sighed happily in reaction. He remained standing as he watched her drift back to sleep, a complicated look on his face. According to Phlox she would be alright, given time and plenty of rest, but he was unnerved by how quiet she'd been. No jokes, hardly a smile, and the most she'd said at once had been a paltry seven syllables. Despite the doctor's prognosis and his own normal optimism, he wouldn't be ready to celebrate her recovery until she started acting more like herself.

Once he was sure that she was deeply asleep, he stepped out of the privacy curtains and headed for the comm panel furthest from her bed. He had a message to relay.

"Tucker to Lieutenant Reed."

Even if the man was sleeping, which seemed unlikely, experience had taught Trip that the Armory Officer was a very light sleeper, and if the past few days were any indication, he wouldn't mind answering this call.

The comm crackled quietly for a few seconds, then "Reed here. Go ahead."

Trip looked back over his shoulder at the curtains around her bed, and then, wanting to make sure that his voice wouldn't carry across Sickbay, he rested one arm on the wall above the comm panel and leaned his forehead against it. "She woke up, Malcolm."

Nothing from the other end except what Trip interpreted as a very happy silence. "She wanted me to tell you that she says 'hi'."

A shorter, happier silence, followed by "I'll be right there, sir."

Trip shook his head. Typical. "No, Malcolm, you won't. You're banned from Sickbay until oh-nine hundred hours, remember? After that you can join the rotation. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

The reply was surprisingly subdued. Trip had expected the other man to at least argue the point with him. Well, after a while fatigue and worry will take the fight out of anyone. He couldn't help sympathizing with Reed. After all, he cared about her too, so he decided to soften the blow.

"She's asleep again, Malcolm, so you wouldn't be able to talk to her anyway. She was only awake for a few minutes and she seemed out of it, but she kept asking about you."

This time the reply came quickly. "She did?"

Trip couldn't help smiling at Reed's surprised, happy tone. "Yeah. When she first woke up she thought that I was you, an' I think she was disappointed to find out I wasn't. I told her you'd been here with her for a while but were gettin' some shuteye. "

There was another pause from the other end, but this time it sounded suspiciously like a badly muffled yawn. "That's pretty much it, Malcolm. I'll see you in a few hours, but in the meantime I think you should try to get some more sleep."

"Alright, suh- sir. Oh-nine hundred sharp. Reed out."

Both men shuffled away from their respective comm panels and back to their former posts; Trip stepped back inside the hanging curtains and Reed trudged over towards his bunk. The lieutenant stood there for a moment, contemplating his pillow and the rumpled blankets before lying down again.

Reed barely remembered getting into bed after returning from the mess, but he was vaguely aware of drifting off to sleep and being relieved – on some level, at least – that he didn't dream at all. He'd been worried that he might have some kind of dream about Jean or the mission or being unable to protect people and failing miserably in his duties to friends and crewmates alike, but instead he drifted in a dark, warm, comforting void. He slept from half past midnight until Trip's call woke him up at about 0550. In the thirty or so hours since the mission had ended, he'd barely managed to get fourteen hours of sleep. Considering his injuries, it was hardly surprising that he was still tired.

Now, though, after signing off from talking to Trip, he suddenly couldn't stand the idea of sleeping any more.

She's awake, she's alright and she was asking for me! I can't go back to sleep now.

Reed felt like he'd been pumped full of caffeine and realized that he was grinning in a way which most likely made him look like an idiot. He walked over to his bunk with the intention of straightening out the covers. Since he didn't plan on going to bed again until that evening – or perhaps afternoon, depending on how the day went and how adamant Phlox was that he rest – he wanted to start the day with some semblance of normalcy. He hadn't left his bedroom without making his bed since primary school, and he had no intention of sullying that perfect record.

Carefully, he bent down to pull the sheets and blankets into place. Once the bed was finally made, Reed faced the prospect of trying to find a way to spend the next three hours.