What Does Not Kill Us - Chapter 8

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

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Chapter 8

It was almost a week later and things were beginning to hurt less. Trip wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but it had and it was the first thing that had made him feel good again. After his first outing in the wheelchair with Archer, he had begun to feel a little better, there were somehow fewer Xindi hiding in the shadows. They hadn’t completely gone and occasionally he caught himself jumping at something he shouldn’t have, but the raw edge of his ordeal was fading. He wasn’t going to be back to his old self overnight, that much was obvious, but at least he had started on the road to recovery.

It was Malcolm’s turn to sit with Trip that evening. After Trip had recounted his story to the Captain, Archer had called T’Pol and Lieutenant Reed into his ready room and told them the whole story as well. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect Trip’s privacy or what he’d been through, it was about the safety of the ship. Reed and T’Pol had to know where Enterprise might be vulnerable and knowing the questions that the Xindi had been asking could help them there. But Archer also knew that he couldn’t handle Trip’s revelations alone, he had to have someone he could discuss it with. If he found it hard hearing about what had happened then he could only imagine how it had been for Trip living through it. Reed had been completely appalled by what he heard.

“That explains a lot,” said Reed, “why he didn’t want to stay in Sick Bay and why he was scared of the needle.”

“Logically, torture is not a reliable way to obtain accurate information,” said T’Pol. “I believe the Xindi must have been desperate to carry out such an obviously flawed plan.”

“It wasn’t as flawed as it could have been,” said Archer, “two months is a long time.”

Two months was a long time, and Reed had felt every single day drag by. He was used to sitting with Trip by now, occasionally Trip might say something, ask him something about the Armoury, but usually Trip lay silently looking at the ceiling. If Trip was asleep Reed would sometimes have to wake him from a bad dream or, when he was awake, try to rest Trip from the grips of a flashback. It was hard watching someone usually so outgoing as Trip Tucker, pull into himself and withdraw completely. Today when Malcolm arrived Trip was sitting up in bed reading one of Archer’s books.

“You look as if you’re feeling a bit better,” said Reed cautiously.

“Doc said that my ribs are nearly healed,” said Trip, happily, “and he reckons that I might be able to have something more interesting than soup or scrambled egg for dinner.” And for the first time in a very long while, Reed saw Trip smile. It wasn’t quite his usual wide grin, but it was definitely a smile.

“That is good news,” said Reed, with feeling. He knew how much actually getting to eat real food was going to mean to Trip. “What are you reading?”

“Something Jon found for me. H. G. Wells, “The First Men in the Moon”,” said Trip.

“You and your bloody Sci Fi,” said Reed, teasing. They had an on going argument about the merits of Trip’s favourite genre.

“Hey, this is a classic,” said Trip. He juggled the book on the cast on his right arm and tried to turn the page with his left. Reed lent over and gave him a hand. “Thanks,” said Trip.

“Actually, I brought you something else that I thought you might like,” said Reed. “It’s some films that I downloaded from the ship’s database. I hope I was accurate in gauging your tastes but I can always download some others for you.” He handed Trip a padd onto which he had downloaded the films.

“Thanks,” said Trip with feeling, carefully marking his place in the book and eagerly taking the padd. Books were great, especially real paper ones, but sometimes you just needed to relax with a trashy movie and Reed had done pretty well in picking what Trip would want to watch. He had also been very careful to avoid any films with anything in them that might remind Trip of what had happened to him. Top of the list was “The Day the Earth Stood Still”, followed by “Quatermass and The Pit” and three of Trip’s other favourite films. Trip was about to select one to watch when suddenly the padd went blank. “Damn, something’s wrong with this padd,” said Trip.

“Can’t be,” said Reed, taking it from Trip’s hand. It had been working fine earlier. He pressed the buttons on the padd’s controls but nothing made any difference the padd remained dead. “I’m sorry, I’ll bring you another. I guess you’ll just have to read your book for the moment.”

“It’s okay, Malcolm, maybe I can fix this one. If you look in the top draw of the desk there’s a set of instrument screwdrivers, could you get them for me?” said Trip. Reed went over to Trip’s desk draw and retrieved the screwdrivers; they were a set of six silver coloured tools each slightly smaller than the previous one. Trip used them for precision work, and they would be perfect for getting the casing off the padd. Reed watched while Trip carefully unscrewed the fixings on the padd and delicately lifted the back off. With his right arm still in a cast, and his fingers not yet up to full mobility, this was a bit difficult but Reed gave him a hand.

Padds were not complicated pieces of hardware, they consisted of a touch sensitive screen, a couple of buttons, a miniature power supply and various chips and wires. Trip spent five minutes checking that all the connections were still attached and going to the right places before he began to look at other causes for the padd’s failure. By the time the various components of the padd were spread over the bed, Trip had come to the conclusion that whatever had caused the padd to fail was not visible to the naked eye. What he needed was a tricorder.

“Trip, it’s only a padd,” said Reed. “I’ll bring you another one tomorrow. Phlox is going to be here soon with your medication and he’s not going to be pleased to see this lot.”

“Look, just get me a tricorder, will you,” said Trip. The padd had become a challenge now and he was determined to fix it.

“Actually, I just happen to have one with me,” said Reed, he’d been working in the Armoury before he had come to see Trip and hadn’t bothered to stow the tricorder.

“Well why didn’t you say so,” said Trip in a slightly annoyed tone. Reed was just pleased to finally see some of the old Trip showing through again, so he ignored the tone and smiled. He handed Trip the tricorder.

Trip scanned the padd. The tricorder went dead. “Son of a bitch, this just isn’t funny,” said Trip.

“What did you do to it?” asked Reed in an accusing tone.

“Nothing,” said Trip. “I just picked it up, started scanning and it went dead.”

“Something isn’t right here,” said Reed. He looked around Trip’s quarters and his eyes rested on the digital alarm clock which usually sat beside the bed but had been moved out of the way for medical equipment and was on the desk. He picked it up from the desk and passed it to Trip.

“What do you want me to do with this?” asked Trip.

“Just hold onto it for a moment,” said Reed. And as he finished the sentence, the red lights of the numbers faded to black. Trip looked at Reed with a mixture of worry and disbelief in his eyes. Reed went to the intercom. “Reed to Sub-commander T’Pol.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” said T’Pol.

“Could you come to Commander Tucker’s quarters?”

“What is it?” asked T’Pol.

“I’m not sure, but you might want to bring a couple of padds with you and a tricorder,” said Reed.

“Very well, Lieutenant, I am on my way,” said T’Pol.

A few minutes later T’Pol arrived. “What is the problem, Lieutenant?” she asked in her usual unemotional voice.

“It might be easier to show you, Sub-commander,” said Lieutenant. “If you could give that padd to Commander Tucker, we’ll demonstrate.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow but passed the padd to Trip. Trip held it for a few moments before it went black, no longer working.

“Interesting,” said T’Pol.

“What do you mean interesting!” said Trip, getting angry and worried at the same time. “This is serious, everything I pick up stops working!”

Phlox arrived at Trip’s quarters in plenty of time to administer his daily medication and entered to hear the end of Trip’s sentence. He looked at Trip and realised that he was agitated by something, however he didn’t yet know what it was that had upset him.

“What is going on here?” he asked.

“We may have discovered a new dimension to the Commander’s condition,” said T’Pol.

“I brought a padd for the Commander with some movies on it and he only held it for a few moments before it stopped working. While we were trying to fix it, I passed him my tricorder and that stopped working too. It was too suspicious to be coincidence, so I tried him with the digital chronometer and that stopped working as well.” The various objects still laid on the bed where Trip had left them, he still had T’Pol’s padd in his hand.

“It was the Xindi,” said Trip, looking more and more anxious, but also angry, “they did something to me, didn’t they? It’s not enough that they nearly kill me and make me too scared to do my job, they had to make sure! I’m never going to be able to touch anything electronic ever again!”

“Commander, calm down,” said Phlox, going over to his patient and scanning him with a tricorder. “I think you two should leave,” he added to T’Pol and Reed.

“I don’t want to calm down!” said Trip. “I want to know what’s happening to me. How am I going to work on a starship if I can’t pick up a tricorder!” His breathing was coming more quickly and he struggled to make his lungs pull in the air. His ribs were still sore after being broken and the extra movement was making them protest. He was starting to feel slightly dizzy.

“Trip, it’s going to be okay,” said Reed, trying to placate his friend.

“No, it’s not,” shouted Trip and flung the broken padd across his quarters as best he could with his left hand. It smashed reassuringly against the bulkhead. “What the hell use am I going to be anyone?” He wanted to shout more but his chest hurt too much. He closed his eyes to try and get past the pain. He suddenly felt the touch of a hypospray on his neck, and was about to jerk away, when he felt very tired. He wasn’t even able to protest as he felt Phlox help him lie back on the pillows behind him and he drifted into friendly blackness.

Phlox checked that his patient was asleep and then turned to face T’Pol and Reed.

“Perhaps you two would like to explain to me why you felt the need to agitate Commander Tucker?” said Phlox, crossly. “Maybe you are not aware of how ill he still is,” he added sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” said Reed, “it’s just that I had no idea that a simple padd would cause so much trouble.”

“I realise that, Lieutenant, but was there really any need to demonstrate this to Sub-commander T’Pol,” said Phlox. “Do I have to remind you both just how fragile the Commander’s mental state is at the moment?”

“Commander Tucker was already aware that something was wrong,” said T’Pol. “It would not have served him any better to have kept this knowledge from him.”

“I cannot agree with you, Sub-commander,” said Phlox. “It is one thing to know you have a problem, it is another thing entirely to realise the full extent of what that problem means. The Commander is human, T’Pol. In his present condition it is very hard for him to objectify anything.” Phlox sighed. “Anyway the damage is done, unfortunately. The sedative I have given him will make him sleep for a few hours but after that we’ll have to help him deal with this new problem. I would be happier if we could let him know that we are working on it.”

“I understand,” said T’Pol. “If you would allow me to borrow your medical tricorder then I can take some scans and get to work on what is causing this problem immediately.”

“Good idea, Sub-commander,” said Phlox. He handed T’Pol his medical tricorder and she began to scan Trip.

“I don’t understand why we haven’t seen this before,” said Reed.

“It is likely that this is the first time that the Commander has handled any pieces of electronic equipment since his rescue,” said T’Pol.

“That could be true,” said Phlox. “All of the monitors in sick bay use sensors and do not need to come into contact with the skin. Hyposprays have no electronic parts. His hands have been bandaged up until recently to prevent him scratching his rash so he hasn’t been able to hold anything.”

Reed nodded. “I suppose that is true. I’d better let the Captain know that we have another problem to worry about. Let me know what you find out.” With that he left Trip’s quarters and went in search of Captain Archer, this was definitely something which he need to discuss face to face. Although he was concerned about what this meant for Trip he was just as concerned about what it meant for Enterprise.

Continue to Chapter 9

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