Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Enterprise Fanfiction > R.F. Sexton > Visisting Hours

 

Visiting Hours
by R. F. Sexton

Summary: Trip pays visits to T'Pol as she recovers from her injuries in the episode "Shadows of P'Jem." SPOILERS FOR "SHADOWS OF P'JEM"
Disclaimers: The characters, ship, and episode belong to UPN/Paramount. The story belongs to me.
A special thank you to my beta readers: PJinNH, PJS, SnoopMary, and Cincoflex.



Trip walked into sickbay and Dr. Phlox looked up. "Commander Tucker,
what may I do for you?"

"Just came by to check on T'Pol." Seeing her take that bolt had shaken
him more than he cared to admit. He would have gladly sent that
Coridian straight to hell where he belonged. If the Andorians had not
fired on him, he would have.

With his usual enigmatic smiled he replied, "She's awake, you can visit
with her if you like. He then returned his attention to the sample he
was studying.

Trip nodded, relieved that T'Pol was well enough to have visitors. He
walked quietly into the ICU cubicle, where T'Pol lay staring at the
ceiling. She seemed so frail and vulnerable lying there. He was
surprised at the strong protective feelings seeing her evoked.

"Hey there, T'Pol, how ya feeling?" he asked softly. She looked as if
she were trying to fight her pain. Even in the soft light, he could see
how pale she was. He wished he knew what to do to help her.

She gazed at him for a few seconds before she answered. "I am feeling
some discomfort. However, Dr. Phlox says I should make a complete
recovery." Her voice was weak, not like her usual crisp tone.

"How long are ya stuck here in sickbay?"

"Dr. Phlox anticipates that I will be in sickbay for at least
twenty-four hours. Then, I will be released to my quarters. I am
uncertain as to when he will deem me fit to resume my duties," replied
T'Pol. Weariness crept into her tone. It was clear that she was having
difficulty maintaining any measure of control. Once again, Trip wished
he could blast that damned Coridian straight to Hell.

Trip smiled and leaned against the console beside her bed. "The Captain
tells me it looks like ya won't be leaving us after all." This had been
the best news he had heard besides the fact that T'Pol was going to
survive. He had dreaded having to say goodbye to her.

"I am pleased that I will be able to stay aboard the Enterprise," she
confessed. "The disgrace I faced on Vulcan was not going to be
pleasant."

"No matter what those bastards at Vulcan High Command say, what happened
at P'Jem was not your fault," he declared emphatically. "You did the
right thing. The Vulcans violated the treaty, not you." The fact that
Soval and the Vulcan High Command wanted to pin the destruction of P'Jem
on her infuriated him. He wanted nothing more than to do some major
butt kicking. Those self-righteous, arrogant sons of bitches had
violated their own treaty, then when they got caught, they picked T'Pol
as their fall guy. It was neither logical nor fair.

A haunted expression crossed her face. "Relics that can never be
replaced were lost to my people forever."

"If you hadn't handed over those scans, the Andorians probably would
have blasted P'Jem away without any warning. All of the monks and the
intelligence operatives would have been killed." stated Trip firmly as
he straightened. "And as for their claims that if you hadn't brought us
to P'Jem in the first place, none of this would have happened, you had
no way of knowing of that some of the monks were actually intelligent
agents. As far as you knew, it was just a damn monastery. The monks
welcomed us. Hell, they even presented us with that Vulcan stone."

"The High Command does not share your view of the situation," she
whispered.

Trip felt his fury rise at her mention of the High Command. The only
thing they were looking for was a scapegoat. He barely managed to keep
his temper out of his voice. "How do ya see it, T'Pol?" he asked
gently. He really wanted to know what she thought about this.

She thought for a few seconds. "There is reasonable logic for both
arguments," T'Pol answered.

She shifted her position and winced. Trip knew from that small loss of
control that she must be in a lot of pain.

"Do you need me to call the Doctor so ya can get some pain medication?"
he asked in a concerned tone.

"The pain is bearable," she replied.

"If you're in pain, ya should take something for it. Let me go get the
Doctor," he insisted.

"It is not necessary," she said weakly. "I am a Vulcan, I can control
the pain."

"Okay," Trip conceded. He knew arguing would only make her feel worse.

T'Pol reached for a glass of water. It was just beyond her grasp.
Seeing this, Trip handed it to her. After she drank several sips, he
took the glass from her and placed it back on the stand.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Dr. Phlox walked through the curtains, smiling at them. "Commander
Tucker, you should leave now and let T'Pol get some rest."

Trip nodded. He turned back towards T'Pol. "I'll see ya later, T'Pol.
I'm glad you're not leaving." Turning, he walked through the curtains
and headed to his quarters. This had been a grueling mission, and he
needed sleep. He had felt compelled to check on T'Pol before retiring,
despite reassurances from the Captain that she was fine. It was odd
that in such a short time his distrust of her had faded away.

Dr. Phlox lowered the lights. I'll be staying in sickbay tonight. If
you need anything, press the call button." He slipped through the
curtains and walked to his office.

T'Pol nodded and the Doctor left the cubicle. She lay thinking about
her conversation with Trip. His attitude towards her had slowly
changed. She had sensed genuine concern in his manner during his
visit. He was the only person other than the Captain who had come to
visit her. Perhaps one day, they would consider each other true
friends.

The next morning, T'Pol awoke to searing pain. The tissue in the area
of her wound throbbed incessantly. It was much more pain than she could
effectively deal with. She pressed the call button.

Seconds later, Dr. Phlox hurried in. "Good morning," he said as he
scanned the monitors. "What can I do for you?" He could tell by the
monitors she was in a considerable amount of pain, but he had learned
never to second guess a Vulcan a long time ago. Her coloring and vital
signs were better, but the pain levels were extremely high.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on not allowing her voice to
reflect her pain. "I need some medication to lower my pain to a more
manageable level." Her calm voice belied the fiery pain that was
wracking her body.

Dr. Phlox retrieved a hypo from a nearby storage cabinet and verified
its contents. He then proceeded to inject T'Pol. "This will help," he
said softly.

After she had visibly relaxed from the fast-acting injection, he
continued. "Your breakfast will be here shortly. Chef is personally
preparing it. After hearing of your heroic actions, he insisted."

A noise behind him caused Dr. Phlox to turn around. "Ah," he said
turning back towards T'Pol. "Here it is now." He took tray from the
steward, placed it on the over the bed table, and rolled it over her
bed. He then helped T'Pol to sit up. "Eat your food while it's still
hot. You need to build up your strength." He flashed her an
encouraging smile.

She stared down at her food for a few seconds, then picked up the spoon
and dipped it into the Plomeek broth. As she swallowed it, she looked
at the toast and fresh strawberries that were also on the plate. With
the same deliberate motions she had used with the mush on the planet,
she picked up a slice of the toast and bit into it. Since refusing to
return to Vulcan and marry Kass, she had been questioning all the
dictates and custom of her culture that served no true purpose. She
could not find any logic in not using ones hands for what humans
referred to as finger food. She ate her breakfast quickly, wondering if
her people could grow beyond what they were.

Just as she had finished her breakfast and was wiping her mouth with the
napkin, Dr. Phlox walked in.

"Excellent," he began with a smile. "You ate everything. Hunger is
often a sign one is recovering. I need to run a few tests on you. You
should be able to return to your quarters later this afternoon.

T'Pol closed her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to escape to her
quarters. Meditation would help her re-center herself. Between having
thought that her return to Vulcan was imminent and dealing with the
recent away mission, she felt the need to meditate. Sickbay was not
conducive to meditation.

Several hours later, Trip peeked through the curtains and saw that T'Pol
was awake. Pleased, he quickly stepped inside. "Hey, T'Pol, you're
looking better." He was glad to see her coloring had improved from the
day before.

She looked at him and was surprised to feel warmth flood her mind.
"Hello, Commander," she said in a voice that was marginally stronger
than it had been the previous day.

Trip strode confidently to her bedside. "So is the Doc gonna spring ya
today?" He hope that would be the case, because that would mean she was
no longer in critical condition. He was surprised how important it was
to him for her to be on the road to recovery.

"He should be releasing me soon. My condition has improved enough to
warrant it."
"Glad to hear it," said Trip. His smile lit up the room.

At that moment, Dr. Phlox popped through the curtains. "Ah Commander
Tucker, you could not have chosen a better time for your visit. I am
about to release T'Pol to her quarters, but I don't want her to walk
that far alone. Just in case she has difficulties."

"I'd be glad to walk T'Pol to her quarters," said Trip sincerely.

T'Pol stared at the two men and realized it would be pointless to
argue. Part of her was pleased at how quickly the Commander had
volunteered to assist her in returning to her quarters. Other Vulcans
might not be able to see the value of friendships with humans, but these
humans had recently shown more loyalty and caring to her than her own
people ever had.

Dr. Phlox handed her a burgundy robe made of deliciously soft, warm
fabric and some slippers. "Put these on, then before you leave, I'll
give you a pre-set hypo of pain medication. If you find it doesn't
alleviate your pain in a satisfactory manner, return to sickbay.

They helped her sit up, then T'Pol slid the robe on and tied it
securely. She then put the slippers on her feet. As she eased herself
off the bed, Trip instinctively took her arm to support her, forgetting
that Vulcans did not like being touched. He was surprised when she did
not object, but willing accepted his assistance.

Grateful for Commander Tucker's support, T'Pol gingerly stepped
forward. Trip could feel the tension in her body. He wondered if she
was really ready to be released, but who was he to second guess the
Doctor. He looked at Phlox who was on the other side of the room
getting the hypo.

Doctor Phlox noticed the concerned expression on Trip's face as he
stared at T'Pol.

He walked over to where Trip and T'Pol stood. "Walking will be painful
for several days, as your wound continues to heal, but it will also help
strengthen the damaged tissue." He handed her the hypospray. "If you
experience any unusual symptoms, notify me at once. I'll stop by and
check on you tomorrow. For now, you are to return to your quarters and
remain there for the rest of the evening. A steward will bring you
supper and breakfast. Depending on tomorrow's check up, you may be able
to have lunch in the mess hall."

T'Pol took the hypospray and slid it into the pocket of her robe. She
surmised it would be easier to accept it than to argue about it. With
Trip supporting her, she made her way out of sickbay. As they walked,
she concentrated on controlling the pain each step caused.

As they moved slowly down the corridor, Trip kept a close watch on
T'Pol. He could tell even this short walk was tiring her. It seemed
she required more support with every step. He hoped she would be able
to make it all the way to her quarters. he knew there was no way she'd
permit herself to be carried there.

T'Pol was even more grateful for Commander Tucker's support. Every step
was sheer agony. Perspiration shone on her face from the effort of
walking to her quarters.

Finally, just as Trip feared she would collapse, they made it to her
quarters. T'Pol felt a tremendous sense of relief when they arrived at
the door of her quarters. She suspected that she would not have made it
any further.


Her hand shook as she reached out and pressed the button to open the
door to her quarters. Never before had she felt so weak. Without
Commander Tucker's assistance, she knew she would have all ready
collapsed.

Trip saw her hand shaking and held her more securely. He did not want
her to fall and cause even more injury to her all ready weakened body.

After the door slid open, he guided her to the nearest chair. "I'm
gonna turn your bed down, then you're going to bed. Ya look like you're
gonna pass out any second now," said Trip as he walked over to her bed.
He pulled the covers back and fluffed the pillows. Then, he walked over
and helped her to her feet.

"Slow and easy, now," he admonished her.

T'Pol allowed him to assist her. The short walk from sickbay to her
quarters had exhausted her. She did not have the energy to protest his
ministrations.

Sitting down on the bed, she pulled the robe off. Trip took it from
her, removed the hypo, then draped the robe over the foot of the bed.

"I'll put this hypo on the headboard where you can reach it if you
decide to use it."

T'Pol nodded as she slid her feet out of the slippers. When she
wobbled, Trip reached out and steadied her. He gently eased her down
onto the bed and pulled the covers up over her. Her eyelids fluttered
closed. In mere seconds, Trip heard the slow even breathing of sleep
coming from her. He quietly left the room.

As he made his way back to engineering, he recalled the events of the
previous day. His heart pounded as the vision of the energy bold
hitting T'Pol played over and over again in his mind. She had been so
lifeless and pale as the rushed her to the shuttlepod. During the
flight back to the ship, he feared they would lose her before they ever
got there. His animosity towards her had faded as he had gotten to know
her. Until he saw her get shot, he'd not realized how important she had
come to be to him.

Several hours later, Trip buzzed for entry to T'Pol's quarters. He had
persuaded the steward to let him bring her supper to her. He was
certain she would be uncomfortable with others seeing her so
incapacitated. He hoped she was okay. He knew how difficult the walk
from sickbay had been for her.

"Come in," a voice called from within.

Trip pressed the button, and the door slid open.

"Commander Tucker?" said T'Pol slightly confused.
"I told the steward I'd bring your supper to ya." He placed the food
laden tray on the table.

She sat up and pulled on the robe she had worn from sickbay. As she
slid her feet into the slippers, Trip walked over to help her stand.

It was all she could do not to moan from the excruciating pain in the
still inflamed tissue as she stood. With Trip's support, she made her
way to the table. After she sat down, he began uncovering dishes.


"Let's see what ya have here. Sarillion stew, Kaza bread, salad, and
for desert........." he paused dramatically. "Pecan pie, I thought you
could use a little good for the soul food."

"Indeed," remarked T'Pol dryly. "Actually, I have developed a fondness
for it."

Trip did a double take. He would not have believed if he hadn't heard
her say it himself. "Well.......uh......I'm glad I brought you some
then. I gotta scram. I'm dining with the Captain tonight. I'll come
back later and get the dishes. See ya then."

Trip left, and T'Pol felt a certain amount of satisfaction in stunning
Commander Tucker. Picking up a spoon, she began eating the savory
stew. As she had gotten to know him better in the six months they had
been on board Enterprise, she had found him more complex than she had
ever imagined. Though he had a tendency to be irrational at times, she
had also seen loyalty, caring, and honesty in him.

He did not have to admit to her he had read the message Hoshi had
intercepted from the Vulcan ship, but his honesty had compelled him to
do so.

After she had gotten over her initial annoyance that her private life
had become more public than she wished, she had come to see Trip's point
of view as well. If situations were reversed, she may have done the
same thing.

It was strange she mused, how often she had come to think of him as Trip
rather than Commander Tucker. In time, all things changed. That much
was certain. She pushed these thoughts from her mind and concentrated
on eating her supper.

Trip sat down at the Captain's table. "Sorry I'm late. I took T'Pol's
meal to her first."

"It's okay, Trip. How is she?"

"She's still seems to be in a lot of pain. She's too damned stubborn to
take the pain medication the Doc gave her," grumbled Trip.

"Well, the more you suggest she take it, the more obstinate she'll be,"
replied Archer.

"I know, that's why I've dropped the issue for now. "

"I can't fault her for her bravery, but Sopek sure as hell did not
deserve an ounce of her loyalty or protection."

"That's for sure. I dealt with that jackass while y'all were being held
hostage."

"Well, at least he's going to talk to the High Command about T'Pol and
see if he can help her," Archer reminded him.

"I know," replied Trip. "He sure owes it to her. If it hadn't been for
her, he'd be one dead Vulcan. Besides, the destruction of P'Jem wasn't
her fault. I'd love to speak my mind to that damned Vulcan High
Command. They'd get an earful, that's fer sure."

As the wording of his last sentence dawned on them, both men burst into
laughter.

As he had promised, Trip had returned to collect the dirty dishes from
T'Pol's quarters. He had just finished organizing everything on the
tray, noting with satisfaction that she had eaten everything, including
the pie.

"Well, I'll take these dirty dishes back to the mess hall. Anything
else I can do for ya before I go?"

"Yes, there is. I am in need of meditation to re-center myself.
However, in my current condition, I am unable to sit in my customary
spot. If you would bring my meditation candles to the table along with
the lighter, it would be most helpful."

"Be glad to do it T'Pol." He walked over to the nook she used for
meditation and gathered up her candles and the lighter. He carried them
back to the table and sat them down. "Now, don't be overdoing it," he
admonished her. "You're still weak as watered whiskey." He picked up
the tray of dirty dishes and headed for the door.

"I will be careful." She paused for a few seconds. Just as her door
slid open and he was about to step out, she spoke again. "Thank you,
Trip."

"You're welcome," he answered as he walked out with a huge grin on his
face. He wondered if she'd ever call him by his nickname. It warmed
him that she had finally done so.

T'Pol carefully arranged her candles on the table. Then, she lit them,
and their fragrant aroma slowly filled the air. After a few deep
breaths, she began her meditations. The events of the past few days had
been very unsettling, and her changing feelings towards Trip Tucker also
demanded deeper evaluation. Meditation would make all of these things
clearer and bearable.