What Does Not Kill Us - Chapter 6

What Does Not Kill Us

by Thalia Drogna

Rating: R
Genre: Action/Adventury, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I’m just borrowing them

~~~

Chapter 6

Hoshi was sitting with Trip. The Commander was sleeping, not quite peacefully, but had had a relatively good day. The angry red of the skin condition seemed to be fading, Phlox had been applying a cream to it that soothed it. Trip also wore cotton mittens so that when his automatic reactions took over he couldn’t scratch. Trip hated the mittens almost as much as the rash, but with broken fingers on both hands he couldn’t take them off, so he just had to live with them as long as Phlox made him wear them. As Phlox had decreased the pain medication and Trip had begun to feel more, the rash had been causing more trouble, interrupting his sleep and making it difficult to get comfortable. At least more difficult to get comfortable than it already was for someone with as many broken bones as Trip had.

Hoshi was trying to learn Jorgan. It seemed like it would be a useful language to know now that they seemed to be bumping into Jorgans more often and as they were the only real allies that Enterprise had made in the Expanse. It was turning out to be quite challenging.

Trip screamed and Hoshi dropped the padd she had been reading. She immediately looked over at the Commander, his eyes were open but he wasn’t looking at anything. “Xindi!” he said in a whisper. Then he screamed again, “please stop!”, tears forming in his eyes. Hoshi ran for the intercom and called Phlox. Trip was still breathing hard, muttering and screaming “leave me alone!” when Phlox arrived a few seconds later.

Hoshi was talking to him in a quiet reassuring voice, “Trip, it’s okay, you’re safe. You’re on Enterprise.”

“You’re doing the right thing, Hoshi. I’m going to call Captain Archer.”

A few moments later Archer came into Trip’s quarters to find Hoshi telling him over and over that he was on Enterprise. Trip was still staring off into the distance and muttering, although had stopped screaming. When she saw Archer, she moved over so that he could take over.

“Trip,” said Archer, “It’s Jon, you’re safe, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He put a hand on Trip’s cheek and gently turned the face towards his own. Trip flinched with the touch.

“It hurts, Jon,” said Trip.

“I know it does. Tell me where you are,” said Archer in a soothing tone.

“I don’t know where. The torture room. Electric shocks today,” said Trip.

“Trip, you’re on Enterprise. You’re safe. You remember, we found you,” said Archer.

“Jon?” said Trip and suddenly his eyes focused on Archer. “Jon?” he said more clearly. He screwed up his eyes and cried until sobs wracked his whole body. Archer sat beside him on the bed and held him while Trip rocked in his arms until he had no more crying left to do. He had worn himself out and fell asleep while Archer held him.

“I don’t understand,” said Hoshi, “he was fast asleep one moment and the next…”

“It was a flash back,” said Phlox, to Hoshi. “Probably triggered by a bad dream. Most likely not the last that he’ll experience either.”

“You mean that we’ve got him back and he still has to keep reliving everything that happened to him over there,” said Hoshi.

“It’s common after something like what Trip has been through, Hoshi,” said Archer. Phlox had given him some reading material at Archer’s request, but he had hoped that this was something Trip wouldn’t have to go through.

“The human mind doesn’t deal well with traumatic events, it can’t, they’re completely outside the range of its experience mostly. As time goes by these flash backs will be less severe and more distant, but it is going to be some time before he recovers completely, if he ever does. If we weren’t in the Expanse I’d suggest returning him to Earth where there are psychiatrists trained to deal with this condition. Unfortunately on Enterprise all he has is me and my text books to help him through, but I will do my best.”

****

Phlox tried to get Trip to eat a little but he only occasionally felt up to it. The starvation by the Xindi meant that his stomach was very sensitive and he felt sick after eating anything more than a couple of mouthfuls. It didn’t help that the only thing that Phlox would let him eat was a sort of yoghurt like substance, it didn’t taste bad, it just didn’t taste of anything much. To add insult to injury his broken fingers made it impossible for him to feed himself. Both hands were splinted up and he couldn’t even pick up the spoon much less get it to his mouth.

It was Malcolm’s turn to try to get something into Trip and despite Malcolm’s patience it wasn’t going well. Trip had been propped up on some pillows for the procedure. “Come on Trip, just have a little,” said Malcolm. “You’re never going to start putting on weight unless you eat something.” Malcolm scooped up a spoonful of the glutinous substance.

“I told you Malcolm, I really don’t feel like anything,” said Trip.

“It doesn’t matter whether you feel like it, Trip, you need to eat,” said Malcolm, using his best commanding tone. It was the same one he used when he gave his armoury officers orders he knew they wouldn’t like.

“I feel stupid,” said Trip, looking down at his cotton covered hands.

“Look when I’m next sick you can come and do this for me. Just one spoonful?”

“I suppose so,” said Trip resignedly and Malcolm spooned some of the food into Trip’s mouth before he could change his mind. Trip swallowed and immediately wished he hadn’t. “It tastes like cardboard,” he said.

“And another one,” said Malcolm, not giving Trip a chance to think about it any further and spooning in another mouthful. Malcolm managed to get another three spoonfuls into Trip before he began complaining about his stomach. Which was at least better than the previous couple of days. Malcolm still worried about how thin Trip was, his ribs were clearly visible, and if he kept eating like this then he’d never put any weight back on.

****

Phlox had already explained to Archer that Trip’s road to recovery would be a long one, mentally as well as physically. He certainly was not the same person that Archer had known six months ago. Trip never smiled now and he hadn’t made a joke since he had been rescued. Archer found that change very hard to deal with. Trip breathed and talked a bit but he always seemed to be pre-occupied by something else. He lay staring at the ceiling or sleeping for most of the time. Hoshi had started to read novels to him and Reed talked him through the daily reports when he expressed an interest in knowing what was going on. Archer thought that mostly that was just because it was what he thought he should be thinking about and not because he had any real interest in it. He hadn’t even asked about Engineering. That was what worried him the most because all Trip had ever wanted was to be Chief Engineer of a starship and now he seemed completely disinterested.

Phlox had begun to try to get his patient to move a little on his own. Mostly this was a painful experience for Trip but at least he felt as if he was doing something. Phlox had started with his hands and arms, both were stiff and the fingers were still splinted but he could move them a little. Next Phlox tried to get his patient to move the rest of his body, lying in the same position wasn’t good for Trip and if he could move himself a little then it would make life much easier. It might also help Trip feel more in charge of what was going on and less helpless.

“Let’s try and sit you up, Commander,” said Phlox.

Trip tried to move but was too weak and fell back on his bed frustrated and worn out from the effort.

“Let me help you, Trip,” said Archer.

“I’ll do it on my own,” said Trip through gritted teeth. He summoned up all his strength and tried again. His muscles refused to co-operate and he fell back again. He breathed hard. “Damn it!” he swore, “I can’t even sit up by myself.”

“Patience, Commander,” said Phlox. “Your muscles will recover but you need to give it time.”

“Why don’t you give it another go, but let us help you this time,” said Archer.

Trip nodded. “Okay,” he took a deep breath and tried again to get into a sitting position. He felt Archer and Phlox supporting him as he moved and finally reached a sitting position. He was breathing hard again and tired but at least he had made some progress. Phlox moved pillows to support him in position and he lay back again.

“I’m afraid it will be a few more weeks before we can begin physiotherapy,” said Phlox. “We need to wait until the casts come off and the broken bones have healed.”

“I’m fed up with this,” said Trip. “I can’t eat without feeling sick, I can’t move without hurting and I can’t even stay awake for more than a few hours. Just leave me alone.” He closed his eyes and ignored Phlox and Archer.

He heard Phlox leave the room a few seconds later and Jon sit down beside the bed.

“Trip, I know you’re not asleep, so don’t bother pretending,” said Archer.

Trip opened his eyes and stared at his commanding officer. “I thought I told you to leave me alone,” said Trip, suddenly really angry.

“Trip, I can’t leave you alone,” said Archer.

“Yeah, because I might need something or have another flash back. I hate this,” said Trip.

“No Trip, I can’t leave you alone because I’m your friend,” said Archer. “Would it help to talk about what happened?” he tried gently.

“Jon, I know you mean well, but just leave me alone,” said Trip.

****

Trip had slept through most of the day after Phlox had left, only waking for an hour or so. T’Pol sat down with the day’s scanner logs, while Trip slept.

“You don’t have to sit with me,” said Trip. “I’d rather be alone.”

T’Pol looked over to see that Trip was awake again. “Someone needs to stay with you Commander,” said T’Pol, “and the doctor thought you would prefer it if it was someone that you knew well.”

“Half the time I don’t even know that you’re here,” said Trip, dismally.

“I spoke to the doctor yesterday, he suggested that now your painkiller dosage has been decreased we might re-start our Vulcan Neuropressure regime,” said T’Pol.

“T’Pol, I don’t think I have enough energy,” said Trip.

“We can try an abbreviated form. Vulcan Neuropressure has on occasion been used to help the rehabilitation of invalids. Give me your left hand,” said T’Pol.

“I’m really not sure about this, T’Pol,” said Trip. “It takes a lot of concentration, from what I remember.” His Neuropressure sessions with T’Pol seemed like they were years ago now.

“We will take things slowly,” said T’Pol. “Your hand, Commander.”

Trip reached out his left hand, only two fingers on the left hand were broken, and T’Pol took his hand in her own. She carefully took off the cotton mitten and he felt her soft skin. She turned the hand so that it was palm up and pressed two fingers on his palm gently, avoiding the broken fingers.

“If this hurts then we will stop. Tell me if you experience any discomfort immediately. Breathe, Commander,” said T’Pol.

Trip closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He repeated the process while T’Pol moved her fingers slightly and pressed more firmly on his hand.

“Good, Commander,” said T’Pol. “You have not forgotten what I taught you.” They continued the exercises for a half hour, T’Pol concentrating on Trip’s left arm. The left arm was easy for her to reach from beside the bed without the Commander having to move or stretch, something which was still painful for him. The exercises which she performed were not taxing and only required Trip to breathe regularly rather than hold any poses. After half an hour Trip was beginning to tire though so T’Pol decided to finish the session.

“Thanks T’Pol,” said Trip. “I feel a bit more relaxed now.”

“Dr Phlox came by with some food a little earlier. Perhaps you would like some?” inquired T’Pol.

“I’m not hungry,” said Trip.

“It is illogical of you not to eat,” said T’Pol. “Your body needs fuel in order to replenish itself.” She helped Trip sit up against the pillows and reached for the food.

“I guess,” said Trip unhappily. Nothing seemed to be holding any interest for him since……… He couldn’t even bring himself to think it. Since he was rescued. Since the Xindi had taken away his freedom and stripped him of his self respect. He just felt disconnected from everything that went on around him. He really didn’t know if he could face more of Phlox’s sticky gloop.

“Dr Phlox thought that you might be ready for some more interesting food,” said T’Pol. “Perhaps you would like to try some fruit?”

“Fruit?” asked Trip. He knew that chef guarded their supply of fruit very closely, they didn’t know when they’d next be passing Earth to get more.

“Peaches,” said T’Pol uncovering a dish of peach pieces. “I believe they are your favourite.”

“They are, but where did they come from? I didn’t think we had any left.”

“Dr Phlox spoke to chef about your lack of appetite, he produced these from his supplies,” said T’Pol. She picked up one of the pieces of peach from the bowl and fed it to Trip.

“Wow, that tastes good,” said Trip.

“Would you like some more, Commander?” asked T’Pol.

“Erm, yeah, I guess I would,” said Trip surprising himself by how much he actually wanted to eat. Or perhaps it was the person who was feeding him, he thought.

T’Pol continued to feed Trip the peaches until there were no more pieces left in the bowl. “That is the last one, Commander,” said T’Pol. “Perhaps you should try to get some rest now.”

“Okay,” said Trip, he settled back down with a little help from T’Pol. “Thanks for tonight, T’Pol,” said Trip sleepily.

“Thanks are not necessary,” said T’Pol.

She watched as Trip closed his eyes and fell asleep. As she returned to reviewing the sensor logs, she wondered why she had felt it necessary to go to chef personally to find something that the Commander would want to eat. It had been Archer’s suggestion to Phlox that Trip might find it easier to eat something if it was more appetising. When Phlox mentioned it to her, T’Pol had agreed, she knew just how much Trip liked his food. She’d seen him get excited about pecan pie, fried catfish and peaches. Phlox had told her that pecan pie and catfish were out for the moment, but the peaches seemed like the perfect idea. When she mentioned Commander Tucker’s condition to chef he had fallen over himself to help her, producing from stasis the very last peaches on the ship. T’Pol reflected that Trip had made a friend there simply by enjoying his food.

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