Chapter Three
That night, Mess Hall, 1100 hours.
Travis and Hoshi entered the mess hall after the movie. Malcolm had left half way through, unable to concentrate on it. His mind just kept wandering back to his friend and the scene in engineering earlier that day. Malcolm didn't have many friends and actually Trip was his first real friend. He had had girl friends and good buds over the years, but not a real friend, someone to talk to, really talk about real stuff with; someone to share hopes and dreams with, fears and insecurities with. No, Malcolm had never had such a person in his life until Trip Tucker broke through his wall. And for the last two years he and Trip had spent a lot of time together and gotten very close. Malcolm had now been able to form friendships with Hoshi and Travis as well.
"Mind if we join you?" Travis asked. Malcolm looked up at the young helmsman but did not respond.
"Earth to Malcolm, Earth to Malcolm," Hoshi interjected.
"Oh uh, yes, sure, of course, sit, sit," Malcolm finally said.
"Boy, you sure are far away," Hoshi said putting her snack and drink on the table. "And really acting weird."
"Yeah, what's going on?" Travis asked. "You know, nothing seems right ever since the Commander was kidnapped. And still things aren't right since he's been back."
"What do you mean?" Malcolm asked.
"Travis and I are often left out of the loop even though we're bridge officers," Hoshi said. "But I listen and I observe people. We know Commander Tucker is in a bad way. We just don't know all of what happened to him on that alien ship."
"Yeah," Travis said. "The Captain briefed us right after he was rescued. We know he was enslaved and tortured."
"Bloody hell!" Malcolm mumbled. "Look guys, Trip was treated horribly at the hands of those lion-looking bastards. It's had a tremendous effect on him; a life changing effect. I don't know if he'll ever be the same. I can't say too much beyond that, partly because I don't know too much more than that, and partly because I'm under orders not to talk about it."
Hoshi and Travis looked at one another. "We understand, Travis said. "But, we're his friends too. We wanna help. But, we're always kept on the outside, looking in."
"We're not trying to be nosy," Hoshi added. "Travis is right, we just wanna help. We care about Trip too." Suddenly T'Pol was standing next to them.
"May I join you?" she asked.
"Yes of course," Hoshi said. "We were just discussing Commander Tucker. Travis and I was just saying, it isn't right that we are kept in the dark where he is concerned. We're his friends too, and we just want to help."
"That is admirable Ensign," T'Pol replied. "But Commander Tucker is in a very fragile state right now. And you know as well as I do that he would not want anyone to see him in such a way. This is difficult for him, for all of us." Malcolm and Travis looked at one another, they thought they saw genuine concern on T'Pol's face. Hoshi knew she saw it. T'Pol was worried about Trip.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" Travis asked.
"Actually, I believe there is," T'Pol said. "Dr. Phlox wishes for Commander Tucker to begin physical therapy. He is still having considerable pain due to his broken back. He will need someone to help him with the exercises and to encourage him to eat as well. He is still malnourished and having trouble eating."
"We could take turns," Malcolm said. "Maybe after a while, he'll want to open up a bit and talk. Phlox said talking it out would help too."
"Could we make up a schedule?" Travis asked. "That is if he agrees."
"I will speak to the doctor and to the Captain," T'Pol replied.
Two Days Later.
Trip lay on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He was still off duty after what happened in engineering, but he was actually glad. He was tired, so tired of the dreams, the flashbacks, and the memories. He was also afraid of falling apart in front of the crew again. He had tendered his resignation, but Archer would not accept it. Trip had insisted however, that he was going back to Earth. He could not do this anymore.
Archer and Phlox had encouraged him, pushed him and insisted that he talk to someone, but so far, he had not been able to. How could he verbalize what had happened to him? If he did so, it would cause him to remember it, to see it, to feel it, to relive it. What a mess his life was.
Suddenly his door chime went off. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone, he thought. "Come in," he said dryly. It was T'Pol.
"Commander," she said standing in front of his desk with her hands clasped behind her back.
"Yeah, what is it?"
"Dr. Phlox wants you to begin physical therapy to strengthen your back and assist with the healing process. Several of the bridge Officers have agreed to take turns assisting you with these exercises," she explained handing him a padd. He didn't even look at it, he just tossed it aside.
"I can't do it," he replied. "I'm still in too much pain. It hurts to walk, to sit or stand for very long, to bend over or pick up more than 10 lbs."
"That is precisely the reason for the exercises. You cannot properly heal without this therapy."
"I said I can't do it!" he snapped.
"You haven't even tried," T'Pol said firmly.
"What's the point? I'm going home anyway, going on inactive duty, so leave me alone!"
"I will not leave you alone Commander. You are still a member of this crew, and part of my job as First Officer is the well being of the crew. You are not well, and part of your prescribed treatment is physical therapy, and you are going to participate."
"Just who do you think you are?" Trip snapped getting angry.
"I just told you, I am the First Officer of this Ship, the XO if you like, and your Superior Officer."
"I don't care who you are, you can't tell me what I'm gonna do! Trip said rising from his bunk quickly and abruptly. But a pain hit him in his back. He gasped and almost fell over. T'Pol caught him and steadied him. She then helped him to sit back down on his bunk as he grimaced in pain.
"Should I call for the doctor?" T'Pol asked as Trip continued to grimace in pain.
"No. Just gimme… a minute," he said, holding up his hand. He tried to move again, but found that the pain was still there.
"Remain still Commander," she said. Then she sat on the bunk and slipped behind him.
"What are you doing?" he asked confused.
"Helping you get a handle on the pain. Now hold still." With that she slid her hands under his pajama top. He flinched, but she waited until he was still. She then begin to apply pressure to certain areas of his back and to massage the area around his vertebrae.
"Take a deep breath," she instructed. "Now let it out." He did as he was told and she continued to massage his back. "Again", she said. She continued to work on him for about ten minutes. He was surprised that this was actually working. His pain was subsiding without the help of one of Phlox's hypo sprays. She then rose from the bed.
"Take your shirt off and lie on your stomach," she directed. He looked at her confused and surprised at what she was doing, but followed her instructions and lay down on the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed beside him and continued the message therapy for another ten minutes. She then massaged his neck, head and shoulders. He was half asleep when she finally finished.
"You should be feeling considerably better now," she said.
"I'll say," Trip said as he sat up. "The pain is completely gone. What was that?"
"It's called Vulcan Neuro-pressure," she replied. "It is a most effective method of treatment."
"You ain't never lied," he said.
"Ain't never lied?" she said as she raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, you're right, it was definitely effective. But…" he started looking at her warily. "I thought Vulcans didn't like touching people."
"Typically, we do not. However, in some cases it is necessary, such as when someone needs assistance and touch is required. You needed assistance."
"Well, thank you. I really appreciate what you did. Still can't get over how much it helped."
"Then we should continue with regular sessions, at least three times a week for one hour. It will help with your recovery and help you sleep. But, you must also promise to do the physical therapy that Dr. Phlox has prescribed for you, as well as the psychological treatment he has recommended. Consider it a challenge. I challenge you to try."
"I told you T'Pol," I can't do it, especially the psych stuff. I- I just wanna go home, and put this behind me. I guess I wasn't cut out for space exploration after all." T'Pol rose and faced Trip.
"The Commander Tucker I know would never back down from a challenge, especially from me. You say that you want to go home when we both know that that is not true. Being the Chief Engineer of this vessel is your life, it means everything to you. I am just surprised that you would let the barbaric, sadistic Lisyrians take it away from you."
"You don't understand T'Pol, no one does. It's just not that simple, and it's not easy dealing with all this. I'm not the same person I was before this happened. What they did to me changed me," he pleaded. "Have you ever had a life changing experience?''
"Yes," she said as she turned and headed toward the door. "However, while I understand having a life changing experience, I do not believe that the Lisyrians should be allowed to dictate to you what that change entails. If that is so, then they have won… Good night Commander."
Trip wanted to say something, but before he could think of anything, she was gone. The massage she had given him had been so unexpected and nice, really nice, for several reasons. He was almost asleep by the time she had finished, but now he was wide awake again, thinking about everything she had said.
To be honest, Trip really didn't want to go home and give up on life. He wanted to get better, to be well again, to be whole. But how? Phlox had talked to him about starting physical therapy, and about psycho therapy with a Starfleet psychiatrist, and that was par for the course, because he was certainly psycho. 'God I have got to quit thinking like that', he thought.
Captain Archer had told him that it would take about eight weeks to get home, then they would be on leave for another three months before shipping out again. Trip thought perhaps he should begin the treatment Phlox recommended, then continue once they were home. What did he have to lose? Perhaps T'Pol was right. Yes, his experience with the Lisyrians had changed him, but why did they
have to dictate what he changed into? He knew he couldn't go back to being the same Trip he used to be, but why did he have to be the broken, sick, damaged, messed up Trip his captors had left in his place? Perhaps he would accept T'Pol's challenge after all. Perhaps he would accept the challenge from himself.