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The Miles That Lay Ahead - Chapter 2

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 2

Why the hell was it that he was so tired? Trip yawned. He'd slept quite well that night, but all the same he didn't feel rested. The muscles in his arms and legs ached, but he didn't mind. After all, it was a sign that proved that his exercises were showing some effect. He was getting stronger every day. Three days ago he'd still needed help to get from the bed into the wheelchair, now he easily managed on his own. It was a new day that would bring new success. Trip sat up and pushed his legs over the side of the bed. That was something he couldn't do yet without the help of his hands; his legs were still too weak for that. But there was something else he could do. Positioning his feet in front of the bed, he reached out for a handhold and slowly pushed himself up. Inch by inch he pulled himself into a standing position, and then, taking a deep breath, he let go and began to count. After four seconds his legs surrendered and his knees gave way. Four seconds until he fell back onto his bunk like a dead weight. Four seconds that he'd been standing on his own legs, with no one supporting him as he did so. A good way to start the day, Trip thought as he pulled up his wheelchair. Now a shower to drive away the drowsiness, and he was ready to tackle another day.

-###-

Trip was sitting at his desk in Engineering, looking through gamma shift reports. There was a whole lot of work to do. The energy impulse he'd overloaded the engines with three weeks ago when Enterprise had been caught in the tractor beam of those aliens had done more damage than he'd originally thought it would. Every now and then relays would short-circuit because some power grid had gone out of alignment, and the engineering crew had to make all kinds of recalibrations. Trip hated to be stuck in that wheelchair that kept him from climbing around in the upper level as he usually did. Some of his crew had offered to make some modifications like installing a second lift to give him access to the warp core, but Trip had declined. He didn't want to make any concessions to his condition, especially since it seemed to be only temporary anyway. It wouldn't pay off to invest any of his crew's time or work in it.

Trip looked at the padd in his hand, then put it down on the table. He needed to get to the upper level. With one glance he could make out Crewmen Kelly and Rostov working up there. Alright, they would be able to help him. He threw a look over his shoulder at the lift, but it was way on the other side of the room. The stairs leading to the upper level had solid steel banisters on each side, just like the parallel bars in the gym. It should be manageable. Thoughtful, Trip let his gaze linger on the two steel bars, letting his tongue wander from one side of his mouth to the other. Phlox was going to be livid mad, but if he managed to get up there, then there wasn't much the doc could say, was there? He wasn't trying anything reckless, he knew he could do it.

Trip positioned the wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs and set his feet on the ground. He would have to get up without Malcolm's help. Taking a deep breath, Trip reached for the banisters and pulled himself up with a jerk. Now that hadn't been too hard. He was standing. For a moment, dizziness blurred the image in front of his eyes, and when his vision had cleared again so he was able to take a good look at the stairs, he wondered what had gotten into him. There was a difference between taking a few steps on even ground with two parallel bars for support and climbing up a staircase. How the hell was he supposed to lift his feet high enough to put them on the first step? But he couldn't go back now. He hadn't locked the brakes on the wheelchair, it would slide away under him if he tried to sit down in it. There was only the way up for him.

Slowly, mobilizing all his willpower, he lifted his right foot until he was able to set it down on the first step. Grabbing the railing with both his hands, he pulled with all his might until he was standing upright again. To his surprise, it worked quite well. He secured his footing. The first step was done. Any moment, he expected to hear a member of his crew yelling and asking what he was doing, but strangely enough his little experiment went completely unnoticed. Trip pulled himself up to the second step, then to the third. Sweat broke out on his forehead and his breathing came in short gasps. The muscles in his arms and legs began to ache and he prayed that they wouldn't fail him now. Falling down the stairs in an undignified heap was the last thing he needed right now. Slowly, Trip began to realize that maybe he shouldn't have started this, but going back was totally out of question. He was more than half the way up already. His feet seemed to be sticking to the step he was standing on. Trip had the impression of being stuck in a swamp that wasn't about to let go. He almost expected to hear a slurping sound as he finally managed to get his foot off the floor. His arms were beginning to tremble from the strain. But he'd put another step behind him. Three left to go. Kelly and Rostov appeared in his field of vision, discussing some problem or other with their backs turned to him. Trip pulled himself up on the next step, and knew that he couldn't go on. Now his legs were trembling as well, and he had a hard time keeping them under control. And it seemed impossible to push his hands any further up on the banisters. Sweat was dripping from his forehead into his eyes, and for a moment he had the impression that he wasn't getting enough air to breathe. Almost there, and he was simply stuck. He couldn't go on, and could literally feel how his last energy reserves dissipated. Something had to be done, and immediately so, otherwise he would take a rather inglorious leave down the stairs.

"Mike!" he whispered hoarsely.

Rostov whirled around and his eyes widened. "Chief! What are you doing?" he exclaimed, but fortunately his surprise didn't keep him from reacting quickly. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Trip's upper body, hauling him over the last two steps up onto the gallery. With Kelly’s help he let the commander slide down onto the floor and studied Trip's pale face with a worried frown.

Trip's head was swimming, the blood pounding in his ears. All of a sudden he was definitely positive that his idea had been a bad one. Through a layer of hazy unawareness, he heard Lieutenant Hess who'd just appeared from behind a corner and was demanding to know what had happened.

"The chief climbed up the stairs," Kelly explained to her.

"The stairs?" Hess repeated, astonished. "Not bad!" She frowned, kneeling down next to her CO. "But don't you think that was... a little dangerous?"

"Depends on who you ask," Trip panted, squeezing his eyes shut against the dizziness. He had trouble getting his breathing and his trembling muscles back under control. He took a deep breath. "Phlox won't be happy, but I think for a cripple it wasn't so bad," he managed just before the colors in front of his eyes started to blur and turn into a deep blackness that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Cripple, nonsense," Hess smiled, but her expression quickly changed to a serious one as she saw Trip's eyes roll up. "Commander! Don't pass out on me!" she exclaimed, patting Trip's cheek. "Stay with us! Hey, Chief..."

It was no use. With a last sigh Trip lost his balance and fell against Kelly who caught him, giving Hess a questioning look.

"Great," the young woman said, getting to her feet. "That's just what he needs right now." She let out a sigh and gave Rostov a short nod. "You call the doctor, I'm gonna tell the Captain."

-###-

Sickbay. He knew where he was even before he'd fully returned to consciousness. During the last few weeks he'd been here too often not to recognize the smell and the feeling of the bio bed under his back. It wouldn't come as a surprise to him if Phlox had already labeled it with a name tag, considering how frequently he tended to occupy it.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes but quickly shut them again when he glimpsed Jon looking down at him.

"Too late," he heard the Captain say, the voice sounding quite disgruntled.

Sighing, Trip looked up at him. "What happened?" he asked.

"You don't remember?"

With his eyes, Trip followed Phlox' motions as the doctor ran a med scanner over him. "I climbed up the stairs in Engineerin’," he recalled.

"And you're proud of it, aren't you?" the Captain flared up. "I should give you a good hiding for..."

"Captain, please," Phlox interrupted, and Jon bit his lip, taking a deep breath.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he continued in a calmer tone of voice. "Are you out of your mind, to try something like that?"

"I thought I could do it." A little unsure, Trip looked up at Jon. He didn't quite know what to make of the Captain's outburst. Nothing had happened to him, after all.

"It would have been more impressive if you hadn't collapsed afterwards." Phlox studied the readings on the bio bed’s screen with a concentrated expression on his face.

Jon gave him a questioning look, but when he didn't continue, the captain turned back to Trip. "Can you move?" he asked, his tone a lot more gentle now.

"Move?" At that, Trip flinched. "Sure. Why not?" As if to prove it he raised his hand and waved it in front of Jon's face.

"What about the rest?" Jon's voice was calm, but Trip found the worried look in his eyes to be quite unsettling. Methodically, he checked his body, rolled his shoulders and pulled in his stomach. His muscles gave slight protest, but did what he wanted. Everything was as it should be. But then, Trip felt as if all his insides had disappeared in one instant.

"What is it?" Jon asked as he saw Trip's expression change.

"My legs," Trip said simply. It couldn't be. They had been moving before, they should be moving now. Dammit, do something, move, I know you can do it! he pleaded silently, but although he could still feel them, his legs didn’t react at all, lying under the blanket like two lifeless sticks. For a moment, the shock made Trip feel as if he was suffocating. It simply couldn‘t be!

"It was to be expected," Phlox said. "You suffered a relapse, Commander."

"What do you mean, relapse?"

"Your body needs you to rest, and since you neglected to do just that, it just shut down."

"So you’re sayin’ it’s my own fault?"

"Well... it’s not unusual that a relapse will occur. Actually, it’s normal. But I do have to say that you took on a little too much these last few days."

"But it worked! I could almost walk again. Damn, I could..." Trip’s voice failed him as he fought against the dry sobs rising in his throat. Looking at Jon’s worried face, he almost lost that fight. In this situation, Trip definitely preferred the angry captain over the compassionate friend.

"And what now?" he asked, after he’d successfully gotten rid of the lump in his throat. "It’s gonna start all over again?"

"No, Commander, you only experienced a minor relapse."

"Minor? I can’t move my legs, doc." Trip didn’t know whether he was supposed to scream or to cry. All his efforts had been for nothing. All the exhausting exercises he’d taken on to be able to walk again, how could it be that they’d resulted in the exact opposite? He'd been making good progress, how could it be that his body failed him like that now of all times?

Jon interrupted his train of thoughts. "You should be glad that you’re still able to move at all. Phlox was afraid..." The Captain trailed off, swallowing as Trip gave him a horrified look. Jon was right. Considering the events of the past few weeks, he realized that it could have been a lot worse. But that thought wasn’t helping him now, either.

"Please lift your arms, Commander," Phlox said. Trip gave him a puzzled look but lifted his arms all the same, waving them in front of Phlox’ face and lowering them again.

"Longer, Commander. Just hold them up as long as you can."

Trip found that to be a rather weird request, but all the same did what Phlox had told him. Soon he realized what the doctor was getting at. Already after a few seconds his arms felt too heavy to hold them up only a moment longer. He clenched his teeth as his arms started to tremble uncontrollably.

"That’s okay," Phlox said, indicating him to lower his arms. With a sigh of relief, Trip let them fall onto the blanket. This was getting scarier every minute. Would his arms fail him again as well?

"Don’t worry, Commander," Phlox said in a reassuring tone of voice as if he’d been reading Trip’s thoughts. "Your body’s in a state of extreme exhaustion. You need to rest, and maybe stop your exercises for a few days, then you will feel better soon."

"But you came up with these exercises, Phlox. How could they have this effect?"

"I can’t remember including the climbing of staircases in your exercise schedule, Commander. But as I said, don’t worry, in a few weeks you’ll have reached your former state of recuperation."

"In a few weeks?" Trip exclaimed, propping himself up on one elbow.

Gently, Jon pushed him back down onto the bio bed. "Now stop it," he said, not unfriendly. "You mustn’t rush this. I know you’re not the most patient person on Earth, but it won’t do you any good to get upset now. Get some rest. Maybe things aren’t as bad as they look, after all."

Trip gave no answer but he did as he’d been told, laying back on the bio bed and closing his eyes. How could Jon be saying something like that? Not as bad. He’d been dreaming of being able to get rid of the wheelchair in the next few days. His little experiment in Engineering had given him a taste of former times, when he’d still been able to walk. But now the paralysis was back. He was back to square one.

-###-

When he woke up, he saw Malcolm Reed sitting beside his bed. He was smiling. "How do you feel?"

"Alright, I think, considerin' that it could be much worse."

"I’m sorry, Trip." Malcolm lowered his eyes. "I knew that you’ve been taking on too much. I should have at least tried to hold you back."

"Malcolm, please don’t go blamin' yourself. I’m too busy blamin' myself already."

"Well, you tried." Malcolm shrugged. "And it worked, too. You were making a good progress in the last few days. Nobody expected a relapse. Not even Phlox."

"Phlox expected me to do my exercises, not to try a stupid stunt like that."

"Well, look at the bright side. You’re once again the hero of your engineering crew."

"Nonsense."

"Well, you are. The whole ship knows about you climbing up that staircase."

"And collapsed when I had reached the top."

"Nobody cares about that."

"I do."

"All the same, the crew is impressed by your determination. And your spirit of adventure."

Trip sighed. "The cap'n didn’t seem very impressed. He wanted to give me a good hidin', as he put it."

Malcolm looked down to hide the broad grin spreading on his face. "I know."

"You do?"

"I’m afraid Liz Cutler overheard your... conversation. The captain's just worried about you, Trip." Malcolm sighed. "As am I."

"Seems to be gettin' some kind of a habit."

Malcolm smiled sadly. "Can I get you anything?"

"You can get me outta here. I’m sick of sickbay."

"I don’t know if Phlox will agree."

"He won’t." Phlox' voice came from behind, and a moment later the doctor stepped up beside the bed. "You need to rest, Commander."

"I can rest in my quarters. Better than here, actually, since I won’t have to worry about bats attackin' me."

"My bat is in her cage, and besides she’s a nocturnal creature," Phlox said indignantly. "It won’t do you any good arguing with me, Commander, you’re staying here where I can keep you under observation."

"What if the Commander promises to stay in bed?" Malcolm persisted. "You know you can take his word for it."

Phlox sighed. "At the moment, the Commander doesn’t even have the strength to get from the wheelchair into his bed. Besides, that's the kind of exertion he should avoid for the next twenty-four hours."

"I could help him," Malcolm said. "Not a problem."

Thoughtfully, Phlox looked from the tactical officer to the chief engineer. During the few days when the commander had been fully paralyzed, Reed had proven multiple times that he could take care of him.

"C'mon, doc," Trip pleaded as he saw the doctor’s determination waver. "I’ll be good, promise."

Phlox sighed. "Very well. You can take him to his quarters, Lieutenant. But I’ll be holding you responsible if he doesn't stay in bed." Phlox kept talking to Malcolm, but threw a pointed look at Trip. "It’ll probably be best to put the wheelchair out of his reach."

When Phlox had left, Malcolm helped Trip to sit up and put his feet on the floor. "I don’t think the doctor thinks very highly of your word," he said, smiling, wrapping his arms around Trip’s upper body and helping him sit down in the wheelchair.

Trip grimaced. "Seems like he doesn't. Could you hand me a blanket? There’s no need to parade me around in my underwear. Bein' ship’s gossip once a day’s enough for me."

Malcolm swallowed a sarcastic remark and handed Trip a blanket, then got the engineer to his quarters.

Trip would never have told anyone, but he was quite glad when he was finally lying in bed again. He felt as weak as a kitten and he was dizzy again, too. His quarters seemed to be spinning around him. Sleepily he watched Malcolm place the wheelchair beside the desk, well out of his reach. "You’re not serious, are ya?"

"Doctor’s orders," Malcolm smiled. "To be honest, I don’t really trust you either."

"Hey c'mon, you can’t do that! What if I have to use the bathroom?"

Malcolm indicated the comm over the bed. "You can call me. I’ll be here as fast as I can."

"And what if you’re busy shootin' aliens?" Trip asked grumpily.

"Then I’ll send Hoshi." Malcolm grinned as he saw Trip’s shocked expression.

"Harhar, very funny," Trip grumbled, but secretly he was glad that Malcolm, at least, wasn’t mollycoddling him but teasing him as usual. "Now get yourself outta here, Malcolm, before the Cap'n starts lookin' for you. Let me sleep."

"You’re not going to try any more heroic deeds?"

"I won’t, Mal, promise." Trip sighed inwardly. He was in no condition to try anything and his protests were pretty much faked to try and save what little pride he had left. His friends didn't seem to realize exactly how exhausted the relapse had left him, only Phlox knew with certainty what his condition was exactly. Malcolm’s measures to keep him in bed were unnecessary. Once again Trip was completely dependent on his friends to help him. He seriously hoped there would be an end to that soon. Trip closed his eyes and slowly slipped away into slumber, not noticing when Malcolm quietly left his quarters only a short time later.

TBC


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Two folks have made comments

Awsome chapter!

Please post more soon!

awwww a relapse,

amazing chapter, gr8 length and section of the story, paralysis aside.