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The Miles That Lay Ahead- Chapter 16

Author - Gabi
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The Miles That Lay Ahead

by Gabi

Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst
Rating: PG-13 (one or two chapters will be rated R later on)

Disclaimer: I guess I own the aliens in this story, the friendly as well as the unfriendly ones, but unfortunately none of the Enterprise staff.

~~~~~~


Chapter 16

"How's Trip?" Malcolm asked when he entered the room. He knew he was being rude, but Erianna only smiled.

"Hi Malcolm. He's fine, woke up half an hour before. I believe he would like to see you."

Malcolm knocked on the door before he entered the bedroom.

"Hi Malcolm."

"Trip, how are you?" Malcolm smiled. His friend looked a lot better than in the morning.

"I haven't felt so good since my last relapse. I don't know what Jeren's given me to knock me out but it looks like it's done a lot of good."

Jeren appeared behind Malcolm, scanner in hand. Looking at the results, he smiled. "You've recovered nicely, Trip. You can get up now, but don't overdo it. Would you like me to stay here and help you?"

Questioningly, Trip looked at Malcolm and shook his head. "No, thank you, I guess I'll try on my own. And Malcolm's here, too, if I do need a hand."

"Okay." Jeren nodded at Malcolm. "I think you'd both enjoy a shower."

"Indeed." Malcolm nodded. "Can we use as much water as we want? On a dry planet like this, your resources must be limited."

"We hardly ever get to that point," Jeren explained. "It's true, we live in one of the driest areas on Renelan, but we are also very well organized. When our water runs short we get supplies from the inner provinces. They have more water than they actually need. I can tell you more about our world after dinner. Now, I'll leave you to your shower, but call me when you're ready. It's better if I carry Trip." Jeren left the room.

Trip propped himself up on his elbows. "Did you hear that, Malcolm? A shower. Sounds great, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does, and look what I've brought from the shuttle." Malcolm showed Trip the razor.

"Great idea. So you went to the shuttle?"

"Yeah and I've found everything we need. The scanner, the communicators and the second translator, your tools and I've also brought the weapons with me."

"The weapons? What for? I mean, there's not really anythin' to shoot at around here. D'you think you'll need them?"

"I don't know. But I feel better if I have them handy. Leaving them in the shuttle didn't seem right. I can stow them away in a drawer."

"That would be for the best. I don't know if Erianna would like to have weapons in her house." Trip shoved his feet to the floor and slid from the bed.

"Do you need any help?" Malcolm asked.

"No, I'll manage. It's about time I find my feet again," Trip smiled, and began to pull himself over to the bathroom. "But I might need your help to get into the shower."

"No problem."

-###-

With his eyes closed, Trip enjoyed the water beating down on him. It seemed to wash away not only the sweat and dirt, but also the exhaustion and the fear he had endured during the last days. He relished the feeling of a clean and fresh skin. He felt good, like most of his strength had returned. He was, of course, not as strong as he had been before his relapse, but he could move without breaking out in a sweat and his muscles beginning to ache. Without having to fear the consequences of every single movement. He just felt good.

Sighing, he shut off the water. He could have stayed here for hours, but now it was Malcolm's turn. Trip was sure the lieutenant was just as eager to get into the shower as he had been.

Trip called, and a moment later Malcolm entered the bathroom. In the meantime he had shaved, and wore only a towel around his hips.

"Is there any water left, Commander?" he teased. "Or will they have to declare a state of emergency because you used up the last of their supplies?" He handed Trip a towel and hoisted him out of the slippery shower. "Do you manage or should I help you?"

"You go and get your shower, Malcolm. I'll be fine."

Trip left the bathroom and spotted his clothes which Erianna had washed and left on the bed for him. Aboard Enterprise, he had managed to dress himself even though he hadn't been able to move his legs, and he was sure that he was going to manage now as well. It wasn't an easy task, but when Malcolm came out of the bathroom, Trip sat on the chair in front of the mirror, fully dressed and shaving. Malcolm smiled at him and turned around to get dressed as well. Erianna had provided him with a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt as so he wouldn't have to wear his sweaty uniform. The clothes were somewhat baggy and Malcolm suspected that they belonged to Jeren. Quickly, he got dressed and with a brief glance at Trip who was almost done he went outside to look for Jeren.

Malcolm stopped in his tracks when he became aware of agitated voices talking nearby. Jeren was arguing with his sister. Malcolm was about to retreat discreetly when he caught some of Jeren's words.

"You can't do that," Jeren said. "Not before they're gone. They trust us and you can't just betray that trust."

"But don't you understand what this may mean to us?" Erianna answered insistently.

"Of course I do. But don't you see that you're going to endanger them? We have to wait, Erianna. At least until they're gone."

Malcolm cleared his throat. Erianna whirled around, and looked uncomfortably to the floor when she saw him standing in the doorway. Jeren, however, smiled at him. "Erianna would like to tell the whole world about you," he explained. "But I think being paraded around in our governor's palace will be enough. You don't need the other seven inviting you to dinner as well."

Malcolm nodded, still skeptical. Jeren sounded convincing, but hadn't he said something about danger? He looked at Erianna who was wearing her usual friendly smile again. "Dinner is ready," she told him. "Are you done yet?"

Malcolm decided to postpone his questions. It didn't matter what danger Jeren had been talking about; he knew they were safe in this place. Perhaps they could have a talk about the subject later on.

He nodded to Jeren. "Yes, we're done. If you don't mind, I think Trip's waiting for you to get him."

Erianna asked Malcolm to sit down. "Do the clothes fit alright?" she asked kindly.

"Somewhat big for me," Malcolm admitted. "But they're a lot more comfortable than my uniform."

"Speaking of which, why doesn't Trip wear a uniform? Him being a commander and all."

Malcolm chuckled. "You better ask him that." He watched Jeren carry Trip into the room and set him down on a chair. Trip was clearly feeling uncomfortable, being carried in another man's arms like a child.

"Do you think you could get me a wheelchair?" he asked.

"What's that?" Jeren wanted to know.

Trip and Malcolm exchanged surprised glances. A physician who didn't know what a wheelchair was?

"A chair equipped with wheels on its legs," Malcolm explained. "For people who can't walk to get from one place to another. What do the handicapped on this planet use for transportation?"

"There are no handicapped people on this planet," Jeren said earnestly.

Trip raised his eyebrows at him. "None at all? I can imagine your medicine is advanced enough to heal all sorts of diseases, but what about old people? Those who are too weak to walk? Or have illnesses which affect their muscles? Aren't there any of those either?"

"No, there aren't." Jeren, clearly feeling uncomfortably with the subject, shook his head and quickly got up to help Erianna serve the dinner. It was some sort of vegetable casserole, and the first real food Trip and Malcolm had seen since their crash. The aroma by itself made their mouths water.

"Enjoy your meal." Erianna ladled generous portions onto their plates.

"But eat slowly," Jeren reminded them and fell silent for a while, watching the two men eat. "You seem to be feeling better, Trip," he said then.

"Yeah, you worked a real miracle." A little embarrassed, Trip looked at Erianna. "Thanks for takin' care of me," he mumbled.

"You're welcome." Sheepishly, Erianna looked at her plate. "I didn't know you had noticed. You were sleeping quite deeply."

"Yeah, I wasn't quite conscious most of the time. But I noticed you were there, and you weren't alone, I think."

"No, my friend Arissa had just dropped by for a visit. She gave me a hand. She was glad to help," Erianna added when she saw Trip's embarrassed expression. "I hope you don't mind. We should have asked you first but you weren't really responsive at the time."

"It's okay," Trip muttered, deciding to drop the subject. He turned to Jeren. "If your medicine is that advanced, is there somethin' you could do so that I'd be able to walk again, or at least to move my legs? Please don't get me wrong, you've done so much for us already and I'm grateful, but..."

"I understand, Trip." Jeren laid his fork on the table. "I can imagine how frustrating it must be to be carried around all the time. I would love to help you, but unfortunately, I can't."

Trip stared at his plate. "I thought so."

"You have to be patient," Jeren continued. "You'll be okay."

"Really?" Trip looked up, skeptically.

"Really, trust me. I ran some tests on your blood samples today, and it was very interesting. Fascinating, how this cure seems to work." A smile appeared on the doctor's face.

"Would you mind letting us in on your discoveries?" Erianna asked with her eyebrows raised.

Jeren's eyes came to rest on Trip. "Look, the poison you were injected with and the cure are both very powerful substances. And now they're both fighting against each other inside your body. The cure is just a little bit stronger than the poison, because otherwise the side effects would have you flat on your back most of the time. Unfortunately, the poison has taken hold of your muscles, and it's very persistent. The problem is, every time you exhaust yourself you're weakening the cure at the same time, and the poison gets stronger again. In fact your body is fighting both of the substances, since they're both alien elements to your metabolism. That's what causes your weariness and, if the cure gets weaker, the trembling of your muscles and the cramps."

"The cramps?" Trip licked his lips, thinking. "As far as I remember, they started after our doc injected me with the cure. It wasn't so bad in the beginnin', but it got worse durin' the followin' hours. Phlox told me it was because I'd been lyin' motionless for such a long time, but you're sayin' it may have been the cure that started to take effect?"

Jeren tilted his head to one side. "That's difficult to tell. Your doctor could be right, but actually I believe it was indeed the cure starting to take effect."

"I don't believe it." Malcolm took a sharp breath. "So all the time we were waiting desperately for an improvement, it was right before our eyes and we just didn't recognize it? Phlox almost shut off the respirator because he thought the cure wouldn't work."

"It's very well possible, Malcolm, that the first encounter of the two substances caused that reaction."

"But what does that mean for me?" Trip wanted to know. "You said every exertion would weaken the cure and let the poison get stronger. Are you tellin' me that I should do nothin' at all, that it would be best for me to lie down in bed and try not to move at all?"

"To help the cure work it would actually be best if you did. But unfortunately moving your muscles is the only way for your system to get rid of the poison."

"But you just told me..."

"I know it's complicated. It's sort of a tightrope walk. The cure causes your muscles to absorb the poison and then get rid of it by moving. But physical stress, in turn, affects the cure. So every time you overexert yourself the effect will result in the opposite. What you need to do is keep your muscles moving but not too much so as not to weaken the cure."

"How'm I supposed to do this?"

"Your weariness is a very good indicator of when the strain is becoming too much. You get tired when your body fails to keep the two substances in balance. As soon as you notice yourself getting tired you should stop whatever you're doing and rest until the weariness subsides again."

"It's that simple?"

"Yes, it's that simple."

"And do you think I'll be able to walk again?"

"Of course. The poison has spread mostly in your legs. It hasn't been in your upper body long enough to get a hold of it. Because of that the paralyzing effect in this part of your body has always been only temporary and subsided again when you rested for a while. But I'm quite sure you haven't done any exercises during the last days to strengthen the muscles in your legs."

"That's right. I didn't really have the time for exercises."

"You have to start them again, otherwise your condition will not improve."

"But if I overexert myself again..." Trip searched for words, then looked at Jeren, swallowing hard. "I'm just afraid I'll suffer a relapse every time I put a little strain on my body," he finally admitted. "If this doesn't get better, I'll be a fragile wreck for the rest of my life." From the corner of his eyes Trip saw Malcolm's surprised expression but he didn't dare to look at his friend right now.

Jeren ran his hand over his forehead. "I understand. The process sounds rather frightening, and you've been through a lot. It's natural that you're feeling nervous about it. But the cure will fight its way through in the end, helping your muscles absorb the poison. Once the poison's gone it won't come back."

"You know that for sure?"

"Yes, my tests are absolutely reliable. You can trust me."

Trip looked into Jeren's face. He had known this man for only two days now and he already seemed so familiar. He trusted him. If Jeren said he didn't have to fear for his health then Trip knew he could believe him. He felt relief wash over him at the idea of getting his health back, and allowed himself to relax a little.

"And I'm really gonna be okay?" he asked again, just to be sure. "There'll be no side effects or long-term consequences?"

"No, you're really going to be okay. There can't be any long-term consequences if the poison isn't there anymore."

"And the cure?"

"Will also be absorbed by your muscles. It'll take only a few weeks and no one will be able to detect any traces of the substances after that."

"So it's only a matter of time until I'm fit again? And I won't have to be afraid of breakin' down with every little effort?"

Jeren smiled broadly. "Believe me, Trip."

Smiling as well, Erianna rested her hand on Trip's arm. "That is good news, Trip."

"Yes, it is." Trip leaned back, relieved. "To be honest, this has been troublin' me ever since my first relapse. I couldn't stop thinkin' about it, and couldn't even imagine a future." He looked at Jeren. "Thanks. You took a great weight off my mind."

"I would like to speed up your healing process, Trip, but this is something your body will have to do on its own. The only thing I could do would be helping you with your exercises. But to be honest, I don't have any experience with this kind of physical therapy."

"I do," Malcolm interrupted, looking at Trip with a strange expression in his eyes. "We used to do most of your exercises together, didn't we, Commander?"

Trip threw Malcolm a bemused look. Something in his friend's voice didn't sound right; Malcolm seemed to be annoyed at something. Supposedly with him, but Trip couldn't think of any reason why Malcolm should be angry. Perhaps changing the subject would distract him.

"Tell us somethin' about Renelan," he said to Jeren and Erianna. "I'd like to know a little more about the world we're stranded on."

"With pleasure." Jeren smiled. "Renelan is the third of eight planets in a solar system with two suns..."

"I think I've heard that one before," Trip interjected with an ironic smile.

"You would have been better off if you had chosen Menaos or Alkira for your landing," Jeren said. "Our planet is closest to the second sun, and so, of course, has the hottest climate. The second sun's heat doesn't really have any effect on the other two inhabitated worlds."

"So they have a different climate?"

"A rather moderate one. Neither of the planets has any extreme temperatures, or deserts. We know that because some of their merchants used to visit our world. Unfortunately, Governor Tasur had some disagreements with some of them and now they're not only avoiding our province, but apparently the whole planet. We ourselves don't have any space travel, our scientists aren't very interested in space. So naturally, we were always very interested in what the merchants told us about outer space. They told us about an anomaly that would have swallowed Renelan a long time ago if not for the two suns holding it in some sort of gravimetric balance." He smiled apologetically. "Some of us think that's plain nonsense. Fairytales told by spacemen who want to show off."

"But they're right." The corners of Trip's mouth twitched as he glanced at Malcolm. "This anomaly actually exists. And it's true that Renelan is dangerously close to it. The second sun parches your planet but at the same time it saves it by keepin' the anomaly stable."

"How do you know this?" Erianna frowned.

"Astronomy was an important part of our trainin' at the Starfleet Academy. And we're only here because our shuttle's been pulled through the anomaly."

"Through the anomaly?" Erianna's voice grew excited. "I, for one, never thought it was a fairytale. So you're saying it's real? And you could get through it?"

"It wasn't that easy. In fact we had never intended to go through it," Malcolm answered sourly. "We were pulled in at one end and spit out at the other."

"Really? That's incredible." In her excitement Erianna, whose hand still was resting on Trip's arm, tightened her fingers. Realizing what she was doing she let go immediately, throwing him an apologizing look. Trip smiled.

"They also told us about a huge asteroid field around the anomaly," Erianna continued. "Have you seen this as well?"

Jeren raised his head, a sudden realization showing in his eyes. "You were in the middle of it, am I right? That's the reason why your shuttle looks like a battered tin can. That was the dangerous situation when Malcolm saved you, wasn't it?"

"Exactly." Trip nodded. "All the EPS-conduits were explodin' with the asteroids' impact and the helm was on fire. Conveniently, I lost consciousness right then and left Malcolm to deal with the burnin' helm console."

"That wasn't your fault," Malcolm said fiercely.

Placatingly, Jeren held up his hands. "I thought you two wanted to know something about Renelan. Looks like we're still talking about you."

Erianna chuckled and stood up to refill their glasses and remove the plates.

"Please," she said when Jeren and Malcolm got up to help her. "Don't bother. Let Jeren talk about Renelan. He loves to do so."

Jeren feigned offence, but at the same time his eyes were fond when he looked at Erianna. "Big sisters," he muttered. Then he turned to Trip and Malcolm. "Well, as I said, Renelan's inhabited area is about 800 kilometers in diameter. The area is divided in eight provinces, three in the middle and five others surrounding them. The outer provinces have an average temperature of 25 degrees, and so we live mostly off agriculture. We and our neighbor province have about four harvests a year, the others maybe five or even six."

"Why's that?"

"We're the southern provinces. Once a year the second sun appears for approximately ten days and heats up the area. We'll get temperatures of more than 45 degrees during this time of the year. If the corn isn't harvested until then it will wither on the fields. Our whole life comes to a halt during that period of heat. People hide in their houses, keeping the shutters closed and turning on the air conditioning, hoping for these days to go by very quickly. It's only ten days, but they usually cost us at least one crop. The other provinces don't need to calculate their sowings so exactly, they can sow and harvest all year round. If our farmers sow too late they'll lose the crop because of the heat and if they sow too early there's too much time in between because they can't get back to work until the hot period is over."

"And the middle provinces?"

"Most of the planet's industry is settled there. They have a lot of rain and as a consequence most of the water. We have a very good system of pipelines to bring the water from the inner to the outer provinces whenever it's needed."

"Perfect logistics."

"We couldn't do without. It's the only way we manage to survive."

Trip nodded, impressed by the advanced engineering that was necessary to keep such a complex supply network up to date and running. Suddenly, he caught himself yawning for the second time and sighed in frustration. "Hell, I've slept all day and I'm already feelin' tired again. And please don't tell me I'm exhaustin' myself by doin' no more than sittin' here and listenin' to you."

"Your body is still trying to find some sort of balance, Trip," Jeren explained. "You have overexerted yourself too often during the last days. Remember, there are two poisons fighting in your body, and it's no wonder you're exhausted. It would be best for you to go and lie down again. Perhaps Malcolm can help you with some exercises. By the way, did he tell you about the governor's inviting you to his palace?"

"No. Must have forgotten about it." Trip threw Malcolm a questioning look, his brows raised.

"We're invited to come to the governor's palace tomorrow," Malcolm said curtly, then raised a hand to cover a yawn himself. "I think I'm going to turn in as well, if you don't mind. It's been a long day."

"Of course." Jeren nodded understandingly. "You still need a lot of rest, too."

Jeren brought Trip to the guest room and carefully laid him down on the huge double-bed. "Is there anything else you need?" he asked.

"No, thanks for everythin'."

When Jeren was gone, Malcolm disappeared into the bathroom while Trip removed his shoes, socks and his t-shirt and then tried to get rid of his jeans. However, getting them on had been a lot easier than taking them off again turned out to be. His toes got caught in the fabric all the time. Trip was just trying to push the jeans over his left knee when Malcolm came back. He threw a brief glance at Trip and wordlessly grabbed the jeans at the legs, pulling them off with a jerk. He didn't bother to be careful and Trip had to use his arms to prevent himself from being dragged along. When his legs fell down to the bed again with a smack, he angrily looked up at Malcolm. He appreciated his help, but not like that.

"Okay, Lieutenant, what is it?" he said in an angry tone, and louder than he had intended to. "Spit it out."

"What?"

"What's botherin' you."

"Nothing." Malcolm grabbed Trip's right leg and bent it at the knee. "Try to push."

"I'm not doin' any exercises now, Malcolm."

"But Jeren said..."

"I don't give a shit what Jeren said. I want to know what's wrong. It started right after dinner and seems to be annoyin' the hell outta you. I can see it's somethin' to do with me, so why don't you just tell me about it?"

Malcolm didn't answer but Trip could see his shoulders stiffen. Stretching the leg in his hands, Malcolm pulled it up until Trip felt a searing pain in his hip.

"Malcolm," he cried, his face contorted with pain.

Malcolm let go of his leg. "I don't really know why you expect me to tell you anything, Commander. You don't either, do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Trip asked, suspicion beginning to rise at the back of his mind.

Malcolm took the other leg, stretching and bending it. "Well, if you do have to know. After your relapse I thought you were depressed because you had realized this was going to slow down your recovery. After all you'd been through I didn't consider it unusual to get a little depressed, and tried to come up with something to cheer you up, help you over that moment of depression. But it wasn't just a moment - you were afraid. You were afraid you might never get better, and you never said anything about it to me. Damnit, Trip, I thought we were friends. Why couldn't you talk to me about it? Maybe I could have done something."

"Oh yeah? Phlox had no idea what to do, but you could've done somethin'?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, Trip. You told Jeren about it, and I assume you told the Captain as well, didn't you?" Malcolm gave Trip a questioning look.

Trip nodded hesitantly. He still had no idea why the Lieutenant would be so angry with him.

"Well, I don't really understand why you could tell them what you were afraid of, but you couldn't tell me."

Trip sighed, feeling anger well up in him. Malcolm should be the last one to blame him for being less than forthcoming about his private thoughts and emotions.

"You ain't of the talkative sort, either," he snapped. "Your own parents didn't even know what your favorite food was."

"But you do. And what's that got to do with this, anyway?"

"You don't talk about your feelings, either. You of all people should understand why I didn't want to talk about it."

"But that's exactly what you did." Malcolm let Trip's leg fall onto the bed, earning an angry look. "I suppose everyone aboard Enterprise knew, except me."

What was Malcolm thinking of him? Trip had already opened his mouth to give a harsh answer, but shut it again when someone knocked on the door. Timidly, Erianna peeked inside. "Are you arguing?"

Trip and Malcolm looked at each other and suddenly began to grin. "No," they said in unison.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb you, but your discussion had become a little loud. I thought... Sorry, sleep well." She smiled sheepishly and closed the door.

Trip looked at the closed door. The interruption had helped him calm down and clear his thoughts. He patted the bed next to him. "C'mon Malcolm, sit down."

Malcolm, a stubborn expression on his face, stared straight ahead.

"C'mon Lieutenant, I'm not gonna make it an order." Trip grinned when Malcolm reluctantly sat down beside him. "If I didn't know better I'd think you're jealous."

"Jealous?" Malcolm startled. "Why would I be jealous?" He fell silent when all of a sudden he realized that Trip was right. Actually, he was jealous because Trip had told Jeren and the captain about his fears and hadn't said anything to him. He who considered Trip his best friend had been shut out, and it hurt his feelings. Deep down he could understand Trip, since he wasn't very comfortable with speaking about his feelings himself, and he couldn't blame Trip for doing the same. But the thought that Trip trusted the captain and even Jeren whom they had met only the day before more than him hurt him deeply.

Next to him, Trip let out a sigh. His eyes fixed on the ceiling, he began to speak. "Malcolm, that has nothin' to do with you. Or with our friendship. You gotta understand; I was so afraid I might never get better I could hardly think of anythin' else anymore. I was always thinkin' of how Starfleet would dismiss me from service, how nobody was gonna need me anymore, about everyone tiptoein' around me, about me bein' of no use to anyone. I even had a nightmare that Phlox had cut off my arms and legs, tellin' me I wasn't gonna need them anymore. I know I was only makin' it harder for myself and that it was my own fault I'd gotten so depressive, but maybe after my relapse I finally realized what I'd gone through durin' the last weeks. I don't know whether you can imagine how it feels to wait for your own death. When you hope for it to end because you can't bear it any longer. And suddenly they say that you're not gonna die and that you'll get completely healthy again. At first you don't even dare to believe it after all you've been through, but then, very slowly, you get up your hopes again. And then you get better, your health is improvin' every day and finally you believe that you're goin' to live. But then, suddenly, out of the blue, you suffer a relapse that takes you back to square one. Then you start thinkin' whether your condition is really improvin' or if it's just becomin' a constant up and down. Perhaps it won't harm you physically but it'd play havoc with your feelings. And then you become afraid. Afraid to fall asleep because you don't know what your body'll do to you durin' your sleep and you're afraid to wake up to find out. But you hide these fears deep inside you, because if you let them out, if you talk about them, then they'll come true."

Trip closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "I told the cap'n about it because he wouldn't let go. But I've never told him what I told you just now. And Jeren..." The corners of Trip's mouth twitched. "Malcolm, finally there was someone who was able to tell me what's happenin' to my body. He told me that there was no reason for me to be afraid, that I can forget about my fears. Starfleet won't have any reason to dismiss me, I won't have to leave Enterprise and I'll be able to do my job again. I just had to tell him what that means to me."

All the time, Trip had been staring at the ceiling, but now he looked at Malcolm. "Malcolm, you and the cap'n are the best friends I ever had. Without the both of you I never would've been able to go through the last weeks. You two were always there for me when I needed your help. You did a lot for me, and sometimes things that only few people would have done, friends or no. I hope you know that I've always appreciated your help, even if we didn't have a talk about all of this. But it wasn't only you I didn't want to talk to. Jon kept wheedlin', and so I finally told him, although I didn't really want to. I would've talked to you as well, but then we were sent on this mission and I didn't want to burden you with my problems. We had more important things to think about at the time."

Trip fell silent and looked at Malcolm, waiting. The lieutenant stared at his clenched hands in his lap. "I'm sorry, Trip," he said quietly. "I don't know what got into me. I guess you're right, maybe I was... jealous."

"Well, there's no need to be. I can count myself lucky to have two great friends like you and Jon. You're completely different but I'm always havin' a good time with either of you. And the fact that I've known the cap'n for a long time doesn't mean I trust him more than I trust you."

Malcolm nodded, but he wouldn't look up. He felt embarrassed, realizing that he had overreacted. Trip was right. Not to speak about one's feelings in some situations had nothing to do with their friendship. After all, he himself hadn't told Trip about his fears of losing his hands and this fear had been very similar to Trip's. Malcolm felt uncomfortable, thinking that his petty jealousy had forced Trip into this emotional confession.

Trip turned onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow, briefly resting a hand on Malcolm's arm. "You okay?" he asked.

Malcolm turned around, nodding. He tried to apologize for his behavior, but he couldn't find the right words. He cleared his throat. "You know what our friendship means to me?"

"It means the same to me."

"Thanks, Trip."

Surprised, Trip looked at him. "What for?"

"For crawling out into this bloody desert to save my arse, not thinking about what this would do to you. There are not many people who would have thought it was worth the trouble."

Trip looked at him for a long moment, then lay back down on the bed. "Mal, why don't you stop worryin' and call it a day," he said, pulling the covers up over himself. "Some sleep will do you good."

TBC


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