A Life Worth Living - Chapter 8

A LIFE WORTH LIVING

By Gabi

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst

Summary: What if both Trip and Sim had survived the transplantation? Takes place during Similitude

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own the characters and I don't make any money with this story.

~~~

Chapter 8

Malcolm pressed the hypospray against Trip's neck. "Unfortunately the analgesics in the medkit aren't very strong, but they will reduce the pain."

"I hope so," Trip groaned. He still felt sick. When the weight had been lifted off his legs, the pain had come in a rush. Only with great effort had Trip been able to pull himself out from under the vessel. Now, he had known from the pain alone that his legs were broken but he still hadn't been prepared for the sickening sight of a bloody bone that had pierced the skin and was sticking out like a broken twig.

Sim had slit the legs of Trip's pants to be able to assess the injury. He was still busy with the scanner. "Your right leg is broken just above the knee," he said. "And your right ankle is broken as well, but both seem to be straight fractures to some degree. The only thing we can do is try to stop the bleedin' of your left shin and splint your legs."

Trip nodded, sighing in resignation. "You think I'll be able to walk if I lean on you or use a branch as a sort of crutch? I have to get back to the shuttlepod somehow."

Sim shook his head. "Your right leg is broken in two places and your left shin is stickin' out like a flagpole. There is no way you can walk."

The three of them startled when suddenly the communicator in Trip's arm pocket began to beep. "Archer to Tucker. Come in, Trip."

Malcolm took the device out of Trip's pocket. "This is Reed, sir."

"Where are you?" Archer asked. "We are having difficulties detecting the shuttlepod. I assume you're on your way back?"

Malcolm hesitated. "Not exactly, sir."

"What do you mean?" The interference was disturbing the connection, but the suspicion in Archer's voice was clearly audible. "Why didn't Trip answer the call?"

Malcolm heaved a sigh when he looked at Trip and walked a few steps away to tell the captain about the situation.

Trip smiled sarcastically. "I bet Jon's not gonna like what Malcolm has to tell him." The smile was replaced by a pained grimace and a hiss when Sim worked on the broken shin.

"I'm sorry, Trip," Sim said in regret. "It's difficult to stop the bleedin'. I tried to cauterize the wound but it won't stop."

When Malcolm came back, Sim asked him to press some swabs on the wound while Sim bandaged the shin as well as possible.

"What did the cap'n say?" Trip asked, concentrating on Malcolm and trying not to look at what Sim was doing.

"What do you think? He promised to lock you up in the brig once you're back so that you won't have a chance to endanger your life again." Malcolm's smile told Trip that he was only joking, and the lieutenant sobered up in an instant. "Of course he's worried. About all of us. We didn't have much time to talk, since the window was stable only for a few minutes until it collapsed. But I found out some important information. There are two more windows opening during the next few hours: one in about five hours and one more in about eight hours. T'Pol couldn't tell for sure, but if we miss that one we'll be stuck here for at least another eleven hours."

"I'd prefer to catch the first one." Sim was finished with the bandage. "Is it comfortable, Trip?"

Trip nodded. "How am I supposed to get to the shuttlepod?"

"There's no way to bring the pod here, so we'll have to carry you there."

"Malcolm is injured and you don't look very good, either," Trip said, looking up at Sim. "How d'you think you're gonna carry me?"

"First things first." Sim searched the ground around them. "We need to find some straight branches to splint up your legs."

"Let me do that," Malcolm said. "You need to rest for a few minutes, Sim. Trip is right, you're exhausted and you look even paler than he does. Sit down."

Sim complied willingly. With a heavy sigh he sat down beside Trip and let his shoulders slump.

"I think we'll have to do a few workouts together back on Enterprise," Trip pondered. "I'm sure Phlox will prescribe me some physical therapy for getting' back on my feet. And you could use some exercises to build up your endurance."

"You think I don't have enough muscle?" Sim joked. "I lifted a shuttlepod with nothin' but my own strength. I don't think you could've done that."

Trip smiled. It was strangely comforting to have Sim at his side. He knew that Sim knew that he was joking only to avoid talking about his condition. His left leg looked pretty bad, and his right ankle and his thigh were visibly swollen by now. Trip could feel that he was developing a fever. He knew that it was very urgent that he got back to Enterprise, but there was no way to do so within the next five hours. He was pretty sure that Phlox would be able to heal his legs but he didn't dare to think about how much time it would take. The thought of being bedridden once again made him cringe.

"I think you'll have to take over Engineerin'," he told Sim.

Sim snorted. "You think the cap'n would allow that?"

"Why not? You're as good an engineer as I am."

"But I don't think the crew would accept your clone as their CO. And there's no way I'll pretend that I'm you for a longer time."

Trip smiled broadly. "That's a good idea. We'll tell everyone that it is you who broke his legs. The crew won't notice."

"I bet they would." Malcolm laid some branches next to Sim, not too thick, but strong enough to stabilize Trip's legs. Sim nodded, but Trip didn't know whether he was approving of the branches or Malcolm's words.

He forgot about the friendly bantering when Sim and Malcolm started to set his legs. He gritted his teeth so his friends wouldn't see that he was in pain, but of course it was a futile attempt.

"I can give you another painkiller," Sim offered. "The last one apparently wasn't strong enough."

"How much analgesics do we have?" Trip asked.

"We have two more shots and each of them will kill the pain for about two hours."

Trip grimaced. "There's still the way back to the shuttle. I'd prefer to have the painkiller then. I can take it for now. By the way, I think Malcolm could use some analgesic for himself."

"No way, Commander," Malcolm answered. "I'm fine. I told you it's only a scratch. You need it more than I do."

Although his eyes were worried, Sim smiled.

"What's the matter, Sim?" Trip wanted to know.

Sim tried to skip the answer, but when his friends both gave him a questioning look, he said: "I just like your little competition about who of you can take more pain."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "You hear that, Trip? Your double is speaking up."

"Yeah, I know," Trip said ironically. "He's so much less heroic than we are, Malcolm."

Sim laughed, but sobered up. "Okay. You sure you won't have another painkiller, Trip? We'll have to move your legs and that's goin' to kill."

"Believe me, I'd take another shot if I could lie here until Enterprise comes. But since that's not an option, and since we'll have to go back through the water and the rough terrain, I think it would be better to save it for later. Just be careful."

While they were talking, Malcolm had started to unwrap the bandages Sim had used to tie his arm to his chest. Sim watched with disapproval clearly written on his face. Malcolm just shrugged with his good shoulder.

"It was no problem leaning on the lever with an arm that was tied to my chest and I was able to collect branches with only one hand, but I need two hands if we want to splint Trip's legs properly. I promise to move my shoulder as little as possible and perhaps…" Malcolm smiled grimly, "… I may even allow you to tie my arm back to my chest afterwards. But now let's get to work."

Malcolm held the branches against Trip's legs while Sim used the last of their bandages and a piece of the rope to fix them. They both tried to ignore Trip's gasping and hissing that told them about the pain he had to endure while Sim tied the splints firmly to his legs.

"Done." With a relieved sigh, Sim laid Trip's legs carefully back onto the ground and considered his handiwork. Both legs were neatly splinted up to Trip's hips and were bound together so he wasn't able to move them.

Gently, Malcolm wiped the sweat off Trip's forehead and once again covered his body with the blanket. Sim got two bottles of water out of the backpack and handed one to Malcolm, the other one to Trip, and supported his friend's head so that he was able to drink.

After that Sim got up and started to tie Malcolm's left arm to his chest again. Malcolm didn't complain, which told Sim that splinting Trip's legs had caused the lieutenant more pain than he had let on. Malcolm's face was pale and Sim wished he could allow all of them an hour of sleep. He didn't feel very well either, and remembered Phlox' advice to take things easy. But they couldn't afford the time to rest and he only hoped that his heart was still strong enough to cope with the strain he had to put on his body. He let his eyes wander across the Xindi vessel.

"Perhaps we could use the bulkheads to make something like a stretcher," he suggested. "Wouldn't be very comfortable for Trip, but we might be able to drag him along."

"Sounds good." Malcolm nodded and patted Trip on the shoulder. "Just give a shout if you need us."

#####

Trip was brooding. Lying flat on his back, he looked up to the trees. What else could he do but let his thoughts wander? He could hear Sim and Malcolm working, but he would have to prop himself up on his elbows to see them, and every movement sent a sharp pain through his legs. His discomfort was increased by his full bladder, which he could no longer ignore. The urge to relieve himself was becoming stronger with every passing minute. Trip clenched his teeth, deciding that he could postpone the embarrassing procedure a little longer.

Carefully, he supported his head with his hand and tried to spot Sim and Malcolm. They had managed to cut out a piece of bulkhead that was about two meters long and a little bit more than a meter wide. Trip grimaced. It certainly didn't look very comfortable and he wasn't very keen on lying down on the rough material and being dragged over the uneven ground. Sim and Malcolm were busy fixing two rods at one end to serve as handles. Apparently Sim had been able to weld the rods to the bulkhead and was additionally tying some of the circuits around the construction. Watching Sim fumble with the thin wires, Trip wondered why his friend didn't use the rest of the rope. But then a thought struck him and made him shudder. They needed the rope to strap him down on the bulkhead, so he wouldn't slip off it. All of a sudden, Trip felt his eyes starting to burn and pressed them shut. Securing him was the logical course of action to prevent him from falling to the ground, but he couldn't help feeling embarrassed. Being as helpless as he was made him very self-conscious.

Trip sighed deeply and tried to get a grip on himself. There was no reason to feel embarrassed, Malcolm and Sim would take good care of him. Trip smirked ironically. He was glad T'Pol couldn't see him like this, lying here a picture of misery and wallowing in a sudden moment of self-pity.

Thinking of T'Pol helped him regain his composure. He simply had to rely on Sim and Malcolm and do whatever he could to help them. Feeling sorry for himself wouldn't help a bit.

Trip frowned as he returned his attention to Sim and Malcolm. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, since they were keeping their voices low so as not to disturb him, but from their gestures he could tell that they were arguing. Pursing his lips, he decided that it was the perfect moment to interrupt and call for help. The pressure of his bladder was becoming almost painful, and he couldn't suppress his need any longer. But for whom should he call? Malcolm? It would be too embarrassing for his reserved friend to help him, and with only one arm he wouldn't be very helpful either.

"Sim? Do you have a minute?"

Sim was at his side in an instant. "What is it, Trip? Are you in pain?"

"A little. But that's not why I called. I have to….," Trip licked his lips, "…to…"

Sim smiled understandingly. "Okay. I'll try to turn you onto your side. You think you're gonna be able to manage then?"

"I still have two healthy hands, y'know," Trip said through gritted teeth.

Sim only nodded and as carefully as possible he shoved his hands under Trip's hip and shoulder and turned him over. Trip panted as he grabbed a root to turn his upper body around until he lay on his side. For a few seconds, his breath came in ragged gasps.

"That's it," Sim decided. "I'm givin' you some painkiller."

"Don't," Trip hissed. "I don't want to waste it. The pain's gonna relent as soon as I'm layin' on my back again. I'd rather have the painkiller when we're on our way back. I have a feelin' that the trip's not goin' to be pleasant."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with you there," Sim said unhappily, supporting Trip's back so that the engineer had his hands free to open his pants. "There's nothin' we can do but to drag you along. Malcolm insisted that he is very well able to carry the other end of the stretcher, but I don't believe him. Not with his injured shoulder."

"That's the reason you were arguin'?"

"Yeah. Malcolm has tried to free his arm already three times so he would have two hands to help me. He keeps tellin' me that he's fine and that his shoulder doesn't hurt. But you only have to look at him to know that he's lyin'."

"What did you expect? It's Malcolm we're talkin' about. You'd have to amputate his arm to get him to admit that he can't use it."

Sim snorted, helping Trip to lie on his back again. "I offered him some painkillers, but he refused them. Told me he wouldn't use painkillers for this bloody scratch when you're goin' to need them so badly."

Trip smiled, but his voice cracked slightly with emotion when he answered. "Malcolm always has to prove that he's a hero."

"He's not the only one." Sim felt Trip's forehead and frowned. "You're as hot as the stove in grandma's kitchen." He rummaged in the backpack. "I'm goin' to give you somethin' against the fever. We have no use for a delirious engineer fallin' off our wonderful makeshift stretcher." Sim smiled as he pressed the hypospray against Trip's neck and released its content. "I guess we'll be ready to get goin' in about half an hour. Try to sleep a little. Do you want somethin' to eat? We still have those delicious nutrient bars."

Trip grinned, shaking his head. "I'm not hungry. At least not enough to eat those bars. I'm goin' to wait until we're back on Enterprise and Chef prepares me somethin' special." Seeing Sim's worried expression, Trip tried a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Sim, I won't starve. I'm simply goin' to lie around like a lazybones and leave it to your skilled hands to do all the work and to carry me back to the shuttle." Realizing that Sim didn't buy the cheerful mood, Trip closed his eyes. "Tell me when you're ready," he said, allowing his exhaustion and frustration to be heard in his voice. "Or even better, wake me up when I'm safely back in the shuttle again."

#####

Malcolm and Sim looked at Trip, who had fallen asleep while they'd finished preparing the stretcher.

"I hate to wake him," Sim whispered.

"Perhaps we can lay him on the stretcher without waking him."

Sim sighed. "He's goin' to wake up the moment you touch him. He's the chief engineer of Enterprise, and since there's always the possibility of something happenin' to his precious engines, he's alert even in his sleep."

"I thought people were saying that about me."

Sim's eyes twinkled when he glanced at Malcolm. "You see, Malcolm, even people as different as we are have somethin' in common." Looking at Trip, Sim sobered up. Sighing, he knelt down to get the painkiller out of the backpack. "It's goin' to be torture for him," he said in a low voice. "As soon as we're back on Enterprise I'm goin' to tell Phlox that he has to add some stronger analgesics to the med kit."

"Perhaps he thinks stronger analgesics could be dangerous if they are applied without detailed knowledge about the patient's condition."

"Yeah, that's probably true in most cases. But we know Trip's condition. And it's a very painful one." Sim looked at the hypo in his hands, before he pressed it against Trip's neck. "Nevertheless, we have to do with this."

Trip opened his eyes, blinking several times, before he focused on Sim. "Ready?" he asked hoarsely.

Sim nodded. "I just gave you another injection of analgesic. We're goin' to lift you onto the stretcher now."

Trip glanced at the bulkhead. Sim had padded it with the blanket, but it didn't look any more comfortable than it had before. "Let's get it over with. I think the painkiller is already workin'."

Malcolm stood behind Trip's head and bent down. "Hold on to my neck, Trip."

Trip nodded and folded his hands behind Malcolm's neck. Malcolm laid his good arm across Trip's chest and held him under the armpit to at least take some of the weight. Standing up, he lifted Trip's upper body off the ground. Sim cautiously took Trip's legs and together they lifted the engineer onto the makeshift stretcher. Trip grimaced, but he didn't make a sound.

Sim took the rope and cut it into pieces. "I'm sorry, Trip, but we have to tie you down. It wouldn't do you any good if you fell off the stretcher or if your legs moved around."

"That's okay," Trip said, but Sim could see in his eyes that he felt uncomfortable with the thought of being strapped down.

Sim started to secure Trip with ropes around his chest and hips, and bound the splinted legs to the bulkhead. "I'm not gonna ask you whether it's comfortable," he said. "Because I know it's not. To add to your inconvenience I'm afraid I'll have to drag you along feet first. It's easier for me and this way your legs won't be jostled so much." Sim rolled up his jacket and laid it under Trip's head. "Tell us as soon as you're in pain or if you need a rest." He gave Trip a stern look. "Promise."

Trip nodded. "I'm gonna be okay, Sim. Just get me to the shuttle before the painkiller wears out." He turned to Malcolm. "Why don't you hand me the backpack, Mal? Sim can't carry it and you can't, either."

Malcom gritted his teeth when once again he was reminded of his injury, but he laid the backpack on Trip's stomach without a word of protest. Sim placed his hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "We need you to lead us, Malcolm. Try to find the path we made to come here. Then we won't have to cut through the underbrush again."

Malcom nodded. "I believe it's over there."

Sim looked after Malcolm. "At least the temperature is a little cooler than before." He looked up to the sky. "I guess it's late afternoon."

Trip followed his gaze and nodded. "Yeah. Remember what T'Pol told us on Enterprise? The planet needs forty-two hours for its rotation. Pretty long days."

Sim smiled. "At least we're goin' to have day-light for another few hours. I wouldn't want to stumble through the forest in the dark."

He grabbed the handles of the stretcher and followed Malcolm, who had disappeared into the underbrush. He tried to handle the stretcher very carefully, but couldn't avoid it bumping over the roots. Sim was well aware that although Trip was not in severe pain he certainly would feel every bump the stretcher was dragged across. He calculated the time they would need to cover the distance. They could make it just in time to reach the first window in the atmosphere, but it wouldn't hurt to speed things up a little. Just to be sure. Sim sighed. He was already sweating and exhausted, and they had three kilometers of uneven terrain to cover. Not to speak of the river. Sim would have given a lot to lie down and sleep for a few hours, but they couldn't afford the delay. He had to ignore the signals his body was sending him. For the last few hours, his heartbeat had steadily accelerated to cope with the strain and it made his chest hurt. Phlox would have his head once they were back on Enterprise. "I told you to take it easy, Sim. I told you that you have a weak heart. You're as stubborn as Mr. Tucker. He never listens to his body either. Were you trying to kill yourself?"

Sim smiled wryly. The only possibility left would have been to wait for a rescue team from Enterprise. But he had a certain feeling that Trip wouldn't have had the time left to wait for them. With the painkillers the engineer was feeling all right, as long as he didn't move his legs. But his right leg had swollen almost twice as thick as it had been. Between the swelling and what Sim assumed had to be internal bleeding, he was worried. Perhaps worse yet was the danger of infection from the open wound. Trip wasn't critical yet but they had to get him to Enterprise as soon as possible.

#####

Eventually the underbrush receded, and they had more room to move. Sim kept his eyes firmly fixed on the ground to find a way with as few roots and as little uneven ground as possible. A grim smile tugged on his lips as he dragged Trip through a field of corn poppies, causing Trip to curse.

"I'm sorry Trip, but I don't think the roots over there would be any better."

Trip coughed. "I'm lucky that I'm not allergic to alien flowers." With his hands he shoved away the corn poppies before they could smack into his face. "From this perspective it looks like I'm Gulliver in the land of the giants."

Sim couldn't help but laugh, but suddenly stopped.

"Somethin's the matter, Sim?"

"Nah." Sim shook his head. "I think I'm startin' to hallucinate. I just thought I saw a few vines crawlin' across the ground."

Trip startled. He tried to lift his upper body to be able to see what was ahead, but strapped down like he was he couldn't do it. "I saw the same thing when we came here," he told Sim.

Surprised, Sim turned his head to look at him when he felt something tug at his ankle. He didn't even have time to look down when a sudden jerk yanked him off his feet. He lost his grip on the rods and the stretcher crashed to the ground. Trip's cry of pain was muffled by the thud of Sim hitting the ground himself, dragged down and then across the ground by a vine wound firmly around his ankle. Without thinking he dug his fingers into the earth, desperately trying to stop the movement. He heard Trip shout his name and out of the corner of his eye he saw him fumble with his restraints.

Sim's fingers dug deep furrows into the ground. He kicked with the other foot to free himself, but the vine was holding him in an iron grip. He was scraped across several roots, but they broke when he tried to hold on to them.

Suddenly, Malcolm was at his side. He tried to break the vine, but with only one hand it was impossible. "Trip!" he yelled. "The knife. It's in the backpack." Seeing how thick and powerful the vine was, he reconsidered. "Forget about the knife, Trip. Pass me my phase pistol."

Malcolm grabbed Sim and dug his heels into the ground. But the vine was stronger and although this slowed them down, they were still both dragged along.

"Look out, Sim, there's another one!"

A second vine crawled up Sim's other leg, immobilizing it.

"Trip!"

"I've got it, Malcolm. But you're too far away. I can't get up! Look out!"

Malcolm heard the phase pistol smack the ground a few meters behind him. To reach it he had to let go of Sim. But he had to get the pistol, otherwise they both would be dragged to whatever it was that was trying to get him, and Malcolm was sure it wasn't pleasant. He could spot something like a crater about ten meters away and at the speed they were dragged along, they would reach it within a minute.

"I'm going to let go of you, Sim," he told his friend. "Try to grab whatever you can. I'll fetch the phase pistol."

Sim didn't answer. His face was contorted with pain and fear. He managed to get hold of a branch that hung down from a tree. But the branch withstood the strain only for a few seconds until it broke and, with a loud cry, Sim slid another meter over the ground.

Malcolm stumbled as he tried to get his phase pistol as fast as he could. He rolled over his good shoulder and, ignoring the pain that shot through his injury, grabbed the pistol and got to his feet again. In a run, he caught up with Sim and fired, praying that he would not hit Sim's leg. The vine shook and jerked, but didn't loosen its grip. Malcolm fired again and again until that one vine stopped jerking and lay still like a peace of dead wood. But the other was still dragging Sim to the crater. Desperately, Malcolm set the pistol on constant fire and aimed at the vine. Finally, the movement stopped. Sighing deeply, Malcolm helped a very shaky Sim back to his feet.

"What was that?" Sim asked with a trembling breath, looking around while he removed the vines from his legs.

"I don't know." Still out of breath, Malcolm followed Sims's gaze. His eyes widened when he saw a lot of bones that were lying all around the crater. He took a few careful steps until he was able to look inside. "It's some sort of plant," he said. "With a diameter of at least two meters."

Sim stepped up beside him. "A carnivorous plant," he said with a shudder. "And judgin' by all the bones it doesn't feed on insects."

They looked at each other, not daring to think about what would have happened if Malcolm hadn't been able to free Sim.

"Let's get out of here, before it attacks us again." Malcolm pointed to the vines that were crawling in different directions.

The corners of Sim's mouth twitched. "It seems like it has lost its interest in us," he stated.

Malcolm smiled grimly. "Yes, I'm sure by now the plant is thinking that we're indigestible."

They smiled at each other, but suddenly they were both hit by the same thought. As if to confirm their thoughts, an anxious cry pierced the air.

TBC

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