What Lies Within Us - Chapter 8

What Lies Within Us

by Gabi

Disclaimers in Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for all the kind comments. I really appreciate them.

******

Chapter 8

Malcolm Reed stared down at his padd. He didn't need a translator to know that these were blueprints of weapons he was looking at. The tactical officer felt a shiver run down his spine as he thought of the damage firearms of that power could cause. It seemed like the base down on the moon's surface wasn't equipped with these kind of weapons, though; otherwise Trip and he wouldn't have been able to make such an easy escape. He grimaced. Well, maybe "easy" wasn't quite the word he'd been looking for. But it could have been a lot worse. If the aliens had offered any real resistance, there would have been no way he'd have been able to get Trip out of that building.

Trip. Malcolm felt guilt nag at the back of his mind. He'd been quite harsh with his friend earlier. Trying to think of how he'd feel in the Commander's place, lying in a sickbay bed, paralyzed from the waist down, Malcolm shuddered involuntarily. Trip was going to need a lot of time and support to get used to this situation. But at the moment time was a luxury they simply couldn't afford.

Malcolm heard the door slide open and raised his eyes. Liz Cutler entered the room, pushing a wheelchair with Trip sitting in it. The engineer had his hands clenched together in his lap and didn't dare to look up, obviously afraid of how his fellow officers were going to react.

"Commander," Hoshi exclaimed, her face lighting up when she saw him. "I'm so glad you came."

"Well, the message was quite clear." Trip's voice sounded unsteady and he was clearly feeling uncomfortable. Taking a deep breath, Malcolm lowered his eyes, guiltily staring down at the floor. He knew that he'd hurt Trip, saying these things. Seeing him look so helpless in that wheelchair was almost more than Malcolm could bear, and suddenly he understood why Trip had preferred to stay in sickbay. Malcolm inwardly cursed himself for the cruel things he'd hurled at his friend, realizing that most of his anger had been directed at himself, after all, at his own inability to play an active part in the decoding of that database. He wanted to say something, to apologize to Trip, but no sound came out.

Stepping back from her console, T'Pol studied Trip for a moment, then clasped her hands behind her back.

"I ask your forgiveness, Commander."

Trip looked up at her, an astonished look on his face. "Forgiveness? What for, Subcommander?"

"I misinterpreted the situation. I should have taken into consideration that something beside the magnetic minerals was blocking the scanners. I should not have neglected the fact that this area, as small as it might be, might prove a potential danger. My carelessness caused your condition, Commander, and I regret that."

Perplexed, Trip stared at the Vulcan. Of all the things he'd expected, it certainly hadn't been T'Pol blaming herself for his injury and offering an apology.

"Nonsense, T'Pol," he said dismissively. "What happened down on that moon isn't your fault. We went down there against your explicit warnings, remember?"

"Then my warning apparently was not explicit enough."

"If I didn't know better I'd say you're feelin' guilty, T'Pol." Trip grinned and for the first time since he'd come back from the surface some of the old sparkle returned into his eyes.

And I thought Vulcans suppressed their emotions, he continued in thought, but he didn't say it. He'd been quite afraid of what T'Pol was going to say, and her reaction had been so different from what he'd been expecting that he didn't want to get her angry with him just now.

"No one's to blame for what happened to me," he said instead. "Nobody except maybe these nice creatures down there on the surface. And that's exactly why we should try and get away from here as soon as possible. Well, lemme take a look at that data."

-###-

The database was impressive. Trip forgot all about his legs as he studied the blueprints of the reactor. If he'd been able to install that baby on Enterprise, the Vulcans' technology would look all but pathetic in comparison. Trip liked the thought of that. His priority, however, was the tractor beam. Trip did a few complicated calculations to find out how it worked, but their odds of pulling free from it didn't look good. There had to be a way, though; he only needed to find it.

Stretching, Trip rubbed his back with his knuckles. If he'd only been able to get rid of that damn pain. The muscles in his back were burning like fire.

At his soft moan of pain, T'Pol looked up from her console. "You are not sitting comfortable, Commander," she stated.

"I know." Trip grimaced. "It's quite difficult when you can't use your feet as support." He gave her a lop-sided grin. "Guess I'm just afraid of fallin' out of that thing."

T'Pol stepped up behind him. "Lean forward, Commander."

Trip stared at her in disbelief. "D'you know what you're askin' of me, Subcommander?"

"I will hold you." Reaching out from behind, T'Pol wrapped one arm around Trip's chest. "Lean forward," she repeated. Trip obeyed and instantly felt himself lose his balance. Holding the Commander in a firm grip, T'Pol felt his back until she'd found a certain place between his vertebrae. Pressing it hard, she pulled Trip's upper body back with a jerk. Trip felt something in his spine give a small "crack", then the irritating pain was gone.

"Better?" T'Pol asked.

"Much better, Subcommander. Thanks a lot."

"You are welcome. The center of gravity in your body has changed, Commander. You need to take that into consideration while balancing your weight in this position. I surmise it will not take you very long to adjust to it. If you experience any more pain, feel free to come to me anytime."

-###-

At this time of day messhall was empty, most of the crew being off-duty and in their quarters. At a table in the corner sat a single person, staring down at a few padds in front of him. But Trip wasn't really seeing them. He was deep in thought; the events back on that moon, Phlox' test results and his own future kept coming back to his mind. He had no idea what he was going to do now.

In the afternoon of that day, Phlox had taken him back to sickbay, all but ordering him to lie down for a while to take some of the strain off his back. After sleeping for a few hours Trip had woken up and actually found himself feeling a lot better than before. Then Phlox had come to show him a few tricks how to keep a better balance or pull himself from his bed into the wheelchair. Not that Trip had been very eager to hear about it. It made the whole thing seem so final, as if he'd already accepted the fact that he was now a handicapped person. And Trip wasn't yet ready to do so. He was sure Phlox was going to find a cure. And soon.

Phlox however had only smiled at him in that unique way of his, raising his eyebrows.

"Commander, if you don't want to listen to what I say, just tell me and I won't waste my time explaining all this to you. You don't have to learn these things if you don't want to."

"I don't?" Trip gave the doctor a surprised look.

"No, of course not." Phlox patted him on the shoulder in a slightly patronizing way. "This ship is full of people who'd be happy to help you. I'm sure there'll always be someone to put you into your bed, wash you and help you dress. I for one would be delighted to lift you onto the toilet seat whenever you need me to."

Trip swallowed, then looked up in resignation. "Could you show me again how to do that, doc? I'll pay attention this time, promise."

Trip smiled sourly as he remembered that conversation. Phlox had indeed a very subtle way of pointing things out. It was true, Trip didn't know how long he was going to be in this condition, and it was unacceptable to be more of a burden to his friends than he absolutely had to.

"More coffee, Commander?"

Looking up, Trip saw Chef standing in front of him with a steaming pot of coffee in his hand.

"Thanks, Chef." He offered him his empty cup. He wasn't even able to get himself a cup of coffee and Chef knew it. In that unobtrusive way of his he had come by his table earlier, bringing Trip a tray with food and an extra large piece of pecan pie. And every half an hour or so he was back with some fresh coffee.

Trip looked after him as he disappeared in the galley. He knew Chef's shift had ended quite some time ago, and Trip surmised the only reason he was still there was to bring him coffee and thus show him that he was there for him. Trip found his heart warm at the subtle way the crew were showing their concern for him.

"Commander?"

At the sound of Malcolm's voice the engineer raised his head and saw the Lieutenant standing at attention in front of the table.

"We need to talk."

"About insubordination, Lieutenant? I've already been talkin' to the Cap'n, asked him if he could use another steward."

Trip's only intention had been to poke a little fun at the stiff officer, but when he saw the dismayed look on Reed's face he instantly regretted his words.

"Malcolm! You don't think I'm bein' serious, do you? Come on, relax a little and sit down, I'm gettin' a cramp in the neck from lookin' up at you."

Malcolm cringed inwardly, but did as he was told. "Commander," he began formally, "the things I said today..."

"Were quite justified."

Trip's interruption left Malcolm even more confused. "What?" he asked incredulously. "That was anything but justified, Commander. Damnit, I said you were reveling in self-pity, accused you of letting us down while I was standing there on my own healthy legs..."

Malcolm rubbed his hand over his head, avoiding to meet Trip's eyes as he searched for words to express his feelings.

"Relax, Malcolm. And forget about the Commander, okay?" Trip smiled. "Want some coffee?" He pushed his cup over the table towards Malcolm.

Malcolm sighed. "I'm really sorry for the things I said. Maybe it was because you looked like you were just fine and all, lying in that bed, as if there was nothing wrong with you." Malcolm took a sip of Trip's coffee. "I know the last thing you need is pity, but, you know, when Liz brought you to the ready room earlier, it really gave me quite a shock. Some things you realize only when you actually see them. That wheelchair..." Malcolm shuddered. "I think until that moment I didn't realize what kind of situation it is that you have to put up with now. And I understand why our current problems would seem secondary in comparison, even if they mean danger to the ship. And well, Trip, actually I came here to apologize and... I'm really feeling awful..."

"Now give it a break, Mal." Trip put a hand on Malcolm's arm. "It's okay, really."

"You're not angry with me?"

"Oh I was, buddy, believe me." Trip grinned. "I was so angry I wanted to run after you and give you a good kick in the behind. And the fact that I couldn't do it made me even angrier. Leavin' sickbay would've meant givin' up that bed I'd taken refuge in. I felt so damn helpless, Mal, havin' to listen to all that without bein' able to do somethin'. But when I'd calmed down a little I realized I could do somethin' after all. I just needed to snap out of it and get out of that bed. And then I started actually thinkin' about what you'd said, that Enterprise was in danger and you needed me to save her."

"The Captain told you the same."

"Yes, but he was so damn understandin' and didn't make it sound urgent. At least I got the impression that you were doin' just fine without me."

"Oh I see. You thought we'd think you were useless without your legs?"

Trip cringed inwardly as he heard his friend put his exact feelings into words. Well, Malcolm had never been one to mince matters. Still, it felt good, being able to finally talk about these things, to share his feelings with someone.

"Yeah, I guess that's what I thought. But then you came and made it quite clear to me that I was still needed. That maybe it isn't all about bein' able to climb around in Engineerin' but that there are other things I can do. Maybe that lecture was just what I needed. That's what real friends are for, givin' it to you straight when you need it. I hate to admit it, but if it hadn't been for you I'd still be lyin' in that bed in sickbay, broodin' on my fate."

"So you're not anymore?"

Trip thought for a moment. It was so hard to put these feelings into words. "You know, there are two sides to it," he said then. "That feelin' of helplessness is just awful. It really gets me down. I've been sittin' here for quite a while now, afraid of callin' Phlox so he can take me to my quarters and help me get ready. He's been showin' me some tricks earlier, but I still have no idea how to undress or get into my bed without landin' on the floor. I can't even get myself a cup of coffee. That's so frustratin' I feel like screamin' and shoutin' at times. But on the other hand there's the feelin' that all of this is jus' some kinda test. That it isn't forever, you know? I still believe Phlox'll find a cure, and soon, even though he made it quite clear that the odds aren't exactly in my favor." Trip shrugged. "Maybe it'd be easier if I couldn't feel my legs, if they were dead. But they're there. I feel it when the muscles cramp, it hurts when I accidentally bump that damn wheelchair against the wall and hit my knees, and sometimes when they decide to really give me a hard time, they'll start itchin' like mad."

Trip paused, trying to remember what it was that he'd actually been about to say. "My body jus' feels too normal. Half the time I'm waitin' for my legs to start movin' again, thinkin' I'll be able to get up and walk, jus' like that."

"Or Phlox will find a cure, after all."

"I hope he will. All this sittin' around is gonna drive me nuts some day." Trip sighed. "Wouldya tell Phlox he can come and take me down to my quarters now?"

Malcolm noticed the look of unease in the Commander's eyes. Trip hated being a burden to anyone, even though the doctor claimed he was only doing his job by helping him.

"Would you prefer a friend to help you?" Malcolm asked carefully.

Trip raised his eyes. "I can't ask that of you, Mal."

"I carried you across that moon, Commander. I think I should be able to get you ready for bed." Malcolm smiled. "I really don't mind, Trip. If it's okay with you, of course."

Trip heaved another deep sigh. "Alright. Tell Phlox I won't need him anymore today."

-###-

It was shortly past midnight when Jon Archer punched in his security code, opening the door to Trip's quarters. The room was dark, but Jon's form was clearly silhouetted against the light of the corridor as he carefully peered inside.

"Come in, Cap'n." Trip was lying on his bed, raising his head when Archer entered.

"I just wanted to check on you," Archer said apologetically. "I thought you were asleep."

"Shoulda skipped that last cup of coffee." Trip grimaced.

"Keeps you awake, huh?"

"No." Trip shook his head with a rather helpless expression on his face. "It's just that... it wants to get out again."

Jon burst out laughing.

"Glad you think it's so funny," Trip grumbled.

"Sorry, mate." Jon was still grinning. "Want me to help you?"

"Well, I don't have much of a choice, do I? You're not the first one today, after all."

The Captain couldn't help but notice how Trip's tensed up when he lifted him off the bed. The younger man was clearly feeling uncomfortable.

"That bad?" Jon asked.

"I don't wanna be a burden to you, Malcolm, Phlox..."

"If the roles were reversed, Trip. If I was in your place, or Malcolm. They could have gotten him just as easily. If it was him who'd been injected with that poison, if it was him lying here, would you want to help him?"

"Course I would. That goes without sayin'."

"And would you think of him as a burden?"

"Course not."

"Then do stop thinking of yourself in that way. We feel just the same about you."

Jon brought Trip to the bathroom, helping him back to bed afterwards.

"Phlox told me Malcolm's been helping you this evening."

Trip snorted. "He was bein' a downright motherhen." He closed his eyes. "I hate bein' so helpless." He'd lost count of how many times today he'd said these words, aloud or in thoughts.

"I can understand that."

Trip gave him a lop-sided grin. "Malcolm's gonna come by tomorrow before his shift starts. He promised to help me work on these things. Phlox showed me how to do it, but I still need lots of practice. Ya know, if I do have to use that wheelchair, then I wanna be able to handle it. I wanna be able to go to bed, dress myself and I wanna be able to go to the bathroom without fallin' headfirst into the damn toilet."

Again, Jon couldn't help but laugh. Maybe recognizing the humorous aspects was the only approach to the situation that didn't leave you indulging in self-pity. Jon regarded his friend full of admiration. Trip hadn't become Chief Engineer and Second Officer of this ship by running away from his problems, but by facing them, tackling each new adversity with that unwavering optimism of his and trying to find solutions. If there was anyone who was able to master this situation, then it was Trip. After a short period of depression he was already back at his former easy-going self, refusing to let recent events get him down, trying to make the best out of the situation.

"Well, that sounds quite ambitious," Jon said. "You should take one step at a time."

"Malcolm made it quite clear to me that I don't have the time to take it slowly."

"He yelled at you." An angry frown appeared on Jon's face. "Phlox told me all about it."

"Forgiven an' forgotten. He seemed to be quite angry at himself as well."

"Yes, because all his own efforts proved to be futile in the end. I think in a way he feels just as helpless as you do."

"What efforts?"

Jon gestured at the padds lying on Trip's table. "It's all in the reports."

"I didn't get very far with those; somehow my thoughts keep wanderin'. Why don't you just tell me 'bout it?"

"Malcolm tried this morning to interrupt the tractor beam. But without knowing its frequency our odds of blocking it are not very good."

"Their technology is far more advanced than ours. There's no way we can adjust our instruments to their frequencies."

"How do you know that?" Surprised, Archer leaned forward in his chair.

"I found out today. But it won't get us anywhere. Did Malcolm try anythin' else?"

"Everything he could think of. He even sent an energy impulse into the beam, hoping he might be able to destroy its source that way."

"I take it that plan didn't work either?"

Jon shifted uneasily on his chair. "Don't ask me how they did it, but somehow they managed to double the impulse's impact and send it back, right into our warp engine."

"Ouch!"

"If it had been online, the warpcore would have overloaded. We were damn lucky the engines were down at the time."

"We'd need supplemental energy to be able to pull free from that tractor beam," Trip said thoughtfully. "Enterprise's energy supplies won't be enough."

"But the impulse they sent was destructive energy."

"Maybe we could transform it into constructive power." Trip paused, thinking. "Did Hoshi get anywhere with that database?"

"She's finished decoding it."

"She did?" Trip propped himself up on his elbows. "I need ta..."

Gently, Jon pushed him back down onto the pillow. "The only thing you need to do now is sleep, Trip. I sent Hoshi to her quarters, too. She and T'Pol have been working nonstop. We're on alert conditions, but it won't help any if my officers collapse on duty."

"Did you sent T'Pol to her quarters as well?"

"I tried, but she only gave me that irritated stare of hers and said she needed a lot less sleep than a human."

"An' she's probably right. Did she come up with anythin' important yet?"

"At the moment she's analyzing the medical part of the database." Jon watched Trip for his reaction.

"The medical..." Trip broke off. "You're sayin' T'Pol is up to her pointy ears in work jus' to find that poison?" His voice had taken on a slightly hoarse tone.

"The cure, more like." The Captain smiled. "How do you and T'Pol get along, Trip? Hoshi told me she set your back this afternoon."

"Oh yes." A smile appeared on Trip's face. "You shoulda seen the look on Malcolm's face. For a second or so, I actually thought he'd like to switch places with me." Trip became serious again. "She apologized to me. Can you believe that?"

"T'Pol never ceases to surprise me. She found out what that base down there is about."

"And?"

"They're terraformers, Trip. Seems they're trying to make the moon habitable for their people."

"Terraformers? Well, looks like they didn't get very far, then. That moon is miles away from bein' 'habitable'. There's not even a single plant down there."

"Maybe they've only just started, and this building is something like a research facility," Jon said. "They're probably still experimenting on producing a suitable atmosphere for their species."

Trip thought about it. Suddenly a number of things made a lot more sense than before. The different atmosphere beneath the cloaking dome, the reactor and the missing defense facilities. Most likely the scientists had only just started their project and were still busy getting settled on the surface. But why had they done this to him, then? You wouldn't expect peaceful scientists of all people to act so cruelly towards some stranger who accidentally came across their research complex.

Jon got up. "Try to get some sleep, Trip. Tomorrow there'll be enough time to think about all that. Do you want me to drop by your quarters in the morning?"

"Malcolm's doin' a great job, Cap'n. You got enough work as it is." Trip hesitated. "Jon?"

"Yeah?"

"Phlox said I'm on 'duty at own assessment'."

"Yes, you shouldn't exhaust yourself. Phlox'll keep an eye on you."

"That's not what I meant, Jon. I mean the uniform. Do I have to wear it?"

Jon understood immediately. It had to be all but impossible for Trip to get his legs into that jumpsuit.

"No, Trip, that's no problem. You can wear civvies as long as you want."

"Thanks, Cap'n."

"Good night, Trip."

-###-

When he came into the situation room the next morning, Trip was already feeling quite tired again. Malcolm had been a regular taskmaster earlier, taking no mercy on him as they'd practiced moving from the bed into the wheelchair, not giving him a break for over an hour. In the end, Trip's arms had hurt so bad that they gave way every time he tried to lean on them. But he could do it now. And he was quite proud of his achievement. Proud of something that had been so natural to him before and which now demanded all his strength and sense of balance if he wanted to do it right.

He'd just set himself to downloading some data onto his padd when Hoshi entered. As her eyes fell on him sitting there, she came over and flung her arms around his neck.

"Hey, what was that for?" Trip smiled at her.

"T'Pol found the cure." Hoshi was beaming like a little girl on Christmas Eve. Trip stared at her.

"The cure?" Could it really be true?

Hoshi nodded, her eyes sparkling as she answered. "T'Pol's been down in sickbay with Phlox all morning." She put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him from starting off towards the door just now. "Phlox said he needs you to come and see him in the afternoon at the earliest. They have to run some tests and of course synthesize the serum first." Hoshi looked at him with an understanding smile on her face. "You think you can wait till then?"

Trip took a deep breath, a wave of relief washing over him. It was over. Phlox had found the cure. He closed his eyes, relishing that feeling of bliss and happiness. Hoshi hadn't taken her hand from his shoulder and he felt her grip tighten in a friendly squeeze. He put his hand over hers. "Thanks, Hoshi, that's the best news I got in a long time."

"See you for lunch? There's something to celebrate, after all."

Trip nodded absentmindedly. He couldn't think of anything else but of the fact that in not too long a time he wouldn't be a cripple anymore. He had to keep himself from setting off for sickbay right then and there, but he knew that he'd only be in Phlox' way. He also ignored the urge to talk to someone about it. Right now, he had to concentrate on his work, even if it might be difficult to do so. Enterprise was still caught in that tractor beam, after all, and the longer they stayed inactive, the more dangerous it got. He could very well imagine that these strangers had called home for help, and considering the aliens' superior means of technology, it might be a good thing if Enterprise wasn't here anymore when help arrived.

Trip made a mental check-list of the things to do next. First of all, he had some business in Engineering - that wasn't going to be easy, but he had a good crew down there, after all. He had to tell them to do some modifications, and after that he needed to find the Captain and talk to him about his plan. Well, and then there was something he had to tell Malcolm, and his friend wasn't going to like it at all. But that could still wait till lunch time.

***********

TBC

Continue to Chapter 9

Return to Chapter 7

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!

Three people have made comments

wats mal not gonna like?

Gr8 chapter btw, r u tsking me literally bout how long to keep him paralised? u got the next chapter after that i star moaning lol, Loving these stories btw.

Is this an answer to some challenge coz a few paralise 1 of the boys stories have suddenly popped up?

Write more :)

Really enjoyed the interaction among the boys and how they are coping with the situation. Please update soon.

Another great chapter! Keep going! Everybody's reactions to Trip's paralise seem about right, you've done very well.