Reed's Armory -- A Malcolm Reed Fanfiction Archive ..

Title: Stepping Stones (Pestilence)

Author: Kalita Kasar

Author's e-mail: [email protected]

Author's Web site: http://kalkasar.ussimperator.com

Rating: PG-13

Category: Slash

Pairing: Archer/Reed

Series: The Four Horseman

Sequel to: Duty Vs Desire (War)

Summary: A sudden illness strikes Captain Archer and Reed must decide what he will do.

Comments: The third in a series in answer to the EntSTSlash (Leah) challenge,"The Four Horsemen." This story deals with the horseman "Pestilence".

Archived to Reed's Armory on 11/20/2003
First posted 11/06/2002

Stepping Stones (Pestilence)

Subcommander T'pol paused in front of the resequencer and gazed at the device for a moment before she quietly murmured, "Mint tea, hot."

Taking the mug that appeared she carried it to a small table. She found the liquid palatable, which was as close as a Vulcan would ever come to admitting to a liking for anything of a consumable nature.

As she eased herself into a chair and sipped the hot beverage she paused, her head going up inclined at an angle as she listened for a faint sound that had momentarily caught her attention.

After a moment, she rose, tea forgotten as she made her way through the doors of the mess hall.

--/--

It was agony, white hot, knife-blade agony that took his breath away and caused beads of sweat to form on his forehead. He would be writhing if only movement didn't cause more of the searing pain. He groaned, shivering. His whole body was afire with fever and the cabin reeked of the bile he'd brought up when he woke with a cry of agony several minutes before.

"Help! Help me," he gasped desperately, his hoarse voice drowned out by the sound of his dog fairly howling at the door; that sound punctuated with the heavy grunts Porthos made each time he flung his sturdy little body at the unyielding metal.
Archer had never heard the beagle in full voice before, but he could understand with one pain fogged edge of his mind, why the cry of a beagle was known as 'belling;' it had a brassy, ringing quality, obviously designed to be heard over a vast distance.

He closed his eyes, pressing one shaking hand to the small of his back. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he going to die? He whimpered in pain and curled into a tight ball on the bed.

Porthos broke off his noise suddenly and resorted to barking, hopping from one paw to another in front of the door. "Is someone there?" Archer called out in a husky voice that didn't seem to carry any further than the edge of his bed. There was no reply, but Porthos continued to bark in rapid-fire little spurts, scratching at the base of the door with his forepaws.

A moment later the dog bounded into the corridor as the door slid open and Charles Tucker entered the room, followed closely by T'Pol.

"Cap'n?" Tucker was at the bedside in a moment, one hand smoothing across Archer's brow. "He's burnin' up!" The engineer cast a look over his shoulder. "Call Phlox!"

"Trip..." Archer managed. "Glad to...see you." He tried to move but the action caused a burst of pain, radiating from the small of his back up into the right shoulder blade and he subsided on the bed, panting until the worst of the spasm passed. After a moment, he glanced at the Vulcan who had called sickbay and now stood quietly just inside the door. "How did you..." He licked his lips and tried again. "How..."

"I heard the cries of your dog," T'Pol responded levelly. "I thought it prudent to investigate."

Archer managed a weak smile. "Thanks."

He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, wishing the doctor would hurry up and get there. He felt hot and chilled at the same time, and the pain seemed to be getting worse.

"Just hold on, Cap'n," Tucker soothed. "The doctor's on his way." The engineer gripped Archer's hand in his own, squeezing it lightly in reassurance.

Porthos came to the side of the bed and put his front paws up on the mattress, sniffing at his master's face and whining softly.

"It's gonna be all right, boy," Tucker told him. "We're gonna get him well again."

The cry of agony that burst from the captain's throat an instant later caused them all to start. Even T'Pol, normally unruffled seemed disconcerted by the sound and raised an eyebrow when Tucker turned to her.

Another instant, and Tucker realized his mistake in taking hold of the sick man's hand. He winced and bit down on his lip to keep from crying out as the captain's hand grasped at his with every ounce of strength the man possessed, which was considerable.

"Cap'n!" Tucker gasped, trying to relax his own fingers as much as possible as he felt the knuckles being crushed together. He closed his eyes, praying that the spasm would pass before his hand was completely crushed.

He looked up desperately as finally, Phlox came into the cabin. "Doc! Help!"

Scanner in hand, Phlox moved to the patient's side and glanced at the engineer who was panting as he fought the urge to try and twist his hand free of the iron grip the captain had on him.

"One moment, Commander," the doctor murmured as he opened his medical kit and loaded a canister into a hypo-spray. "It's all right, Captain," Phlox turned his attention to Archer, "You only *feel* like you're going to die. You're in virtually no danger of actually expiring."

With the hiss of the medication, the captain's grip instantly relaxed and Tucker lurched away, nursing his injured hand and flexing the fingers carefully. "Damn!"

"Try holding the patient's wrist in future," Phlox instructed matter of factly. "It's much wiser."

"I'll take that on board," Tucker muttered grimly.

"Is he all right?" T'Pol interrupted the exchange. And stepped forward, carefully avoiding the pool of vomit on the floor.

"He will be," Phlox closed the medikit and glanced over his shoulder, gesturing to his medical team to bring in the stretcher they carried. "His condition is eminently treatable. A few days and he should be back on duty."

T'Pol nodded. "I will make adjustments to the duty rosters. If you do not need me for anything else..." she pointedly glanced around the cabin and almost imperceptibly wrinkled her nose.

"I think Commander Tucker and I can proceed from here," Phlox replied as the medical team lifted the stretcher bearing the now barely conscious captain, and headed out of the cabin. "Commander, I will want to take a look at that hand -- in sickbay." His tone brooked no argument and Tucker merely nodded.




Part two

"I'm afraid it isn't possible for you to see the captain at the moment, Lieutenant." Phlox stood squarely in Reed's path, blocking him from proceeding any further into the sickbay. "He is recovering from surgery, and I am not allowing anyone to visit him yet."

"Surgery!" Reed tried and failed again to get by the doctor. "What kind of surgery? What happened to him?" The armoury officer had only discovered that the captain was in sickbay when he had woken that morning and was reading over the night-shift report. A standard part of that report was to list any personnel injured or taken ill over night and Reed had been shocked to see Captain Archer's name on the list.

"Nothing happened to him, Lieutenant. The captain was taken ill, but he is going to be fine, he just needs his rest, hm?"

"When can I see him?" Reed was still trying to catch a glimpse over the doctor's shoulder of the figure he could vaguely make out lying on the main biobed with a privacy screen drawn around him.

"Perhaps tomorrow, Lieutenant. Lithotripsy is not complex surgery, but it does involve deep tissue and some discomfort. I am sure the captain would appreciate..."

"Lithotripsy!" Reed had heard that term before, in reference to his father. "That's the treatment for kidney stones, isn't it?"

"You're right," Phlox agreed. "The captain had developed a small nephrolith, which I have broken apart. He will be fine, Lieutenant, but I must insist that he is left to rest until tomorrow."

With a sigh, the lieutenant nodded and stepped back, slightly mollified by the knowledge that the captain would recover. He cast another glance towards the inner sanctum of the sickbay, but he knew the futility of arguing with Phlox when the doctor was on his own territory. "Tomorrow," he said softly. "I'll come back then."

Reed walked away along the corridor, his head bowed as he let the relief wash over him. When he had seen Archer's name on the 'sick list' his heart had lurched with fear.

Making his way as quickly as he could to sickbay, he'd struggled not to let his mind run away with a hundred different images of the captain injured, or worse. His only thought was to see Archer, to touch him and assure himself that the captain was alive and would recover.

Although he knew that there had not been any attack on the ship -- his staff would have woken him in such an eventuality -- he couldn't help but think that perhaps the captain had been injured in an accident; his condition on the report was listed simply as 'serious, stable' with nothing to tell of what the problem was.

Knowing that the illness was a kidney stone, and that the doctor had treated it and Jon would recover caused such relief that Reed was almost dizzy with it. He stopped at the end of the corridor and pressed a call button for the lift. He had left his quarters in such a hurry that he had not even thought of a cup of tea, much less food, and now his stomach loudly reminded him of his missed breakfast.

When the lift doors slid open, he found himself face to face with Charles Tucker. Reed straightened a little, a habitual action with him when in the presence of a senior officer and he nodded slightly. "Commander." He stepped into the lift and turned to face the doors, slipping his hands behind him.

"Been t'see the cap'n?"

Reed shot him a sidelong glance. "I tried to," he replied. "If that's where you're headed, don't bother, Phlox isn't letting anyone in to see him yet."

Tucker raised an eyebrow at that, but remained where he was. "I wasn't plannin' to drop by until after breakfast," he said.

"Ah." Reed shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing at the row of buttons beside the door, and Tucker reached out to press one. "Mess hall?"

"Yeah."

"I was headin' there too," Tucker said. "Mind if I join ya for breakfast?"

"Not at all." Reed was glad of the company.

The two men shared the ride in the elevator in silence, and were seated at a table in the mess hall, trays in front of them before Tucker finally broke it. "You sure talk a lot," he said, his voice thick with irony.

"hm?" Reed glanced up from spreading butter on a slice of toast. "Oh...sorry," he managed a small smile. "I was preoccupied I suppose."

Tucker nodded and picked up a salt shaker. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No." Reed shook his head slightly. "What's to say? Phlox says the captain will recover..."

"Malcolm," Tucker cut in softly. "What are you afraid of?"

"What?"

"Well..." Tucker liberally salted the eggs and sausage links he had selected for his breakfast and set the shaker back in its rack. "I've seen the way you are around the cap'n, the way your eyes follow him," he held up a hand as the lieutenant opened his mouth to speak. "I've seen the way the cap'n is...I've heard all about it from him...I just don't get it, Malcolm. You both like each other, you both know it...but you're runnin' scared."

Blue-grey eyes blinked rapidly several times and then met the clear blue of the engineer's gaze. "And how is any of this your business, Commander?"

"Ah now c'mon, don't go all prim and proper on me. It's my business 'cause I'm yer friend. It's my business cause I'm the cap'n's friend...and it's my business because...because I'm makin' it my business," he ended with a tone that came very close to a 'so there.'

Leaning back in his chair, Reed folded his arms across his chest. "Did I ever tell you, just how much of a pest you really are?" He tried to keep his tone firm, but he could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'm not scared...exactly."

"Then what are ya...exactly?"

A heavy sigh. "I don't know. Confused."

"Confused?" It was Tucker's turn to sit back in his chair. "Over what? You two are so right for each other Ah..."

"Please keep your voice down!" Reed leaned forward and glanced around quickly at other crewmembers to see if anyone had heard Tucker. "I'm confused because this is not...this is...it goes against everything I believe about...duty and about how things should be!"

"Love's like that." Tucker smiled at him as he cut another piece of sausage and put it in his mouth. "Damned inconvenient!" he added, waving his fork at Reed for emphasis.

"Love?" Reed paused a moment, seeming to ponder the word. "I'd hardly go that far."

"Okay...if you insist." Tucker half rose from his seat. "You want coffee?"

"Tea please," Reed watched the older man as he moved towards the resequencer.

Although he acknowledged that he had feelings for Captain Archer, love had never really entered his thoughts on the subject. Desire, certainly, and attraction, but love was something he had not considered until now. He shook his head slightly and lowered his gaze to his plate as Tucker returned with two steaming cups and set one in front of him. "Thank you," he said softly.

Tucker resumed his seat and sipped his coffee in silence for a few minutes, letting Reed have time to think.

Eventually, he stirred, making moves to leave and waited until the lieutenant met his eyes. "Word of advice, Malcolm," he said softly. "Whatever it is that you feel for Jon, do somethin' about it. He's gonna be okay, and we're all glad about that, but you hafta think about how you'd be feelin' right now if things had been different." He smiled, nodded slightly and stood up. "I gotta get to work," he said. "See ya later."



Part 3

Captain Archer lay on the main biobed, which had been raised into a semi upright position, holding a padd in his hand as he read through reports on the ship. He had argued unsuccessfully with the doctor to be permitted to return to his own quarters, but Phlox was insistent on keeping him in sickbay until at least that afternoon.

He sighed and glanced up from the padd as sounds of movement on the other side of the privacy screen told him someone was approaching. Probably just Cutler or one of the other medical staff coming to make sure he was drinking plenty of fluids and not overdoing things.

His sea green eyes lit up with pleasure though, when the screen parted and Malcolm Reed entered carrying a covered tray.

"Malcolm!" He grinned and waved to a chair by his bed. "Sit down, oh, just put that on the bedside cabinet," he added as Malcolm raised the tray a little in query as to where to set it down. "No doubt it's more broth, huh? Phlox won't let me have anything more solid...he's too fussy!"

"Sandwiches, actually," Malcolm replied as he moved to sit in the indicated chair. "And some fruit." He smiled at the captain's brightening expression,

Archer reached for the tray and lifted the cover, staring at the ham sandwiches, oranges and the small bowl of fruit salad. "Malcolm, there's too much food here for me, even if I was feeling like eating!"

"I thought we could share it, or...or perhaps it would tide you over until the doctor lets you leave." Malcolm lowered his eyes, staring at his hands which were clenched together in his lap.

Archer watched him for a moment, noting the obvious nervousness.

"Sorry," Malcolm added softly, "I...thought it would make you feel better."

Archer smiled and reached a hand out to the younger man. "I feel better just having you here."

Blue-grey eyes looked up, not quite making it to Archer's face, but stopping somewhere around the captain's chest. They flickered to the extended hand for a moment, and Archer saw the younger man's jaw work as he swallowed hard.

With a sigh, the captain let his hand fall back on the bed. "Well, we shouldn't let this food go to waste," he said quietly. "Stay and have lunch with me?"

Malcolm nodded and got up, taking a small plate of the sandwiches from the tray and handing it to the captain. He took another for himself and sat down again before he looked into the captain's eyes. "I'm glad that...you're going to be all right," he murmured.

Archer smiled. "Too pigheaded to be otherwise," he quipped and bit into the sandwich with obvious enjoyment. It was a welcome change from the watery chicken broth the doctor had been feeding him on.

If he were honest, Archer had to admit he was not exactly a model patient. Once the crippling pain from the kidney stone was alleviated he had wanted nothing more than to get out of the confines of sickbay and back to the comfort of his own quarters to rest. The improvement after the shockwave treatment to break the stone apart had been almost miraculous, but Phlox insisted that he wanted the captain to stay in sickbay until all of the fragments of the nephrolith had passed and he would not hear of any other alternative.

He glanced at Malcolm and frowned slightly, watching as the man took a small bite of the sandwich and chewed it methodically. He wondered if Malcolm applied his whole mind to everything he did, including eating. There was rarely a time, Archer thought, when the man didn't seem entirely focussed. He wondered fleetingly what it would be like in bed if the Brit applied as much attention to lovemaking as he did to everything else. The thought caused an involuntary shudder to run through him and the sandwich fell from his hand onto the plate. Instantly he was the center of the other man's attention.

"Are you all right?" Malcolm stood up, quickly setting his plate aside and moving closer to Archer's side. "Should I call...?"

"No, no I'm fine." Archer smiled. "Just letting my mind run away with me," he assured the younger man. "Sit..." he waved to the chair and picked up the sandwich he had dropped.

"If you're sure," Malcolm hovered a moment longer.

"I'm fine, Malcolm. Really." He liked having Malcolm hovering over him like that, but he waved him back to his seat again. "Really."

Reed returned to his seat, taking the plate of sandwiches onto his lap again, but he didn't begin eating. "I do that a lot, too," he murmured.

"Do what?" Archer watched the other man's face as he waited for a reply.

"Let my thoughts run away with me...more than I ought to."

Archer gave a small smile. "You mentioned something like that the other night," he referred to the night that Jamieson died, when he and Reed had talked for a little while in the observation deck.

"Yeah," Reed said and toyed absently with the sandwich on his plate. "When I heard that you were ill, I had a hundred gruesome thoughts about what it might be," he admitted.

"Well, it was pretty gruesome as it was," Archer said before he took another bite of his sandwich.

"Aye, I wouldn't want to go through such pain," Reed said.

"I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"My father had kidney stones," Reed said. "I was with him when it happened." He shook his head.

"He must have been glad to have someone nearby." Archer remembered his own relief when Tucker and T'Pol had arrived in his quarters.

"Perhaps," Reed answered. "He never said so."

Archer finished the sandwich and set the plate aside. "Malcolm..." he began, but was cut off when the doctor entered.

"I trust you enjoyed your lunch, Captain," Phlox said, "But I'm afraid Mister Reed will have to leave now, time's up."

"The sandwiches were delicious," Archer said genuinely. "Thank you."

Reed got to his feet and put his plate back on the tray. "I'll be going," he said, meeting the captain's eyes for a moment.

"The captain should be well enough to return to his quarters this afternoon," Phlox said as he picked up a medical scanner and prepared to examine his patient.

"Malcolm," Archer leaned forward so that he could see past the doctor. "Uh would you... um..." he fumbled for words, hating himself for becoming tongue tied right at that moment.

"Of course, Sir." Reed the armoury officer was firmly back in place, but there was a softer gleam in the young man's eyes as he went on. "I think it's only appropriate that I escort you back to your quarters," he shifted his gaze to the doctor's face and with a perfectly deadpan expression added, "The captain is a stubborn man, doctor, I feel he may present a flight risk."

Archer suppressed a chuckle at the surprising turn of humour.

Phlox nodded, "I would have had one of my staff accompany him," he said, "However, if you would prefer to perform that duty yourself..."

"Thank you," Reed said with a brisk nod, "What time should I come back?"

"Oh, 15.00 seems reasonable," Phlox said.

Reed looked to the captain. "I'll be back then, Sir."

Archer nodded and rested back against the bio bed, allowing the Denobulan to fuss over him.

Part 4

Malcolm Reed arrived back in the sickbay at 14:58 hours. He knew he was earlier than the agreed time, but he also knew that the captain was anxious to get out of the sterile confines and back to his own cabin so it wouldn't do to be late.

He stepped into the antiseptic smelling place and wrinkled his nose a little, admitting to himself that sickbay was not at all his favourite place to be either. Glancing around for the doctor, he moved toward the main biobed which was still screened off from the rest of sickbay.

"Doctor Phlox?" he called as he moved towards the screen.

"In here, Lieutenant," the doctor's jovial voice replied from behind the screen.

Reed stepped through the screen to find Archer already dressed into civilian clothing and sitting up on the biobed whilst the doctor ran one final medical scan.

"You're progressing very well," Phlox told him, "But I want you to rest for another day or two. Light duties by the end of the week; I'd like to see you back here for another examination tomorrow afternoon."

Archer nodded, but his attention was on the darkhaired younger man who stood by waiting to escort him home. As soon as the doctor stepped aside, he slid lightly to the floor, needing to steady himself a little against the side of the bed. His legs were still unsteady and he gave a small, shy smile.

"Ready, Sir?" Reed stepped forward.

"Let's go, Lieutenant," the captain said and took a half step forward, grimacing at how weak he still felt.

Reed offered him the support of an arm and he accepted it gratefully. "Thanks."

As they made their way out of the sickbay, Phlox paced alongside Reed. "Be sure that the captain returns to his quarters directly," he admonished. "Captain, make sure you remember to take plenty of fluids, you need to keep your system well hydrated; it will help to flush the..."

"I understand that, Doctor," the captain said firmly.

Phlox nodded and halted just inside the door, pressing the button to open it so that the two men could proceed. Archer paused a moment and turned to look at the doctor. "Thank you," he said simply.

The doctor nodded and at last, they were free of the sickbay.

Archer concentrated most of his energy on just getting his legs back under him as they moved towards the lift, but he cast Reed an amused glance. "So you think I'm a flight risk, huh?"

"One never knows, Sir," Reed replied. "I had visions of you running for the bridge in your hospital gown." He allowed a small smile as they stopped at the end of the hallway and he pressed the call button. "I thought it best that I see you home personally."

"I'm not going to argue with you," Archer replied. "You know what's best for the ship. I trust your judgement."

Reed met his eyes and all hints of humour were absent from his eyes as he replied simply, "I appreciate that, Sir."

Archer was suddenly struck with how much his simple words had meant to the younger man and he bowed his head for a moment, thinking that perhaps Malcolm had a point when he had mentioned a few weeks ago that security on the ship was too lax and that Archer's command style was too laid back. He sighed softly and moved into the lift, still leaning on Malcolm's arm.

"Malcolm, I know I haven't always done things the way you think I should. I haven't paid as much attention to your recommendations as I should have sometimes..." He looked into the blue-grey eyes of his armoury officer and sighed once more. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. I know that you would prefer that things were different, and I do acknowledge that, but at the same time, we're out here for a long haul. I don't want to stifle people's personalities, or make them feel that protocol is more important than they or their feelings are..." he paused, searching for the right words. "But at the same time, in doing that, I think I may have failed to take your feelings into account and I apologize."

Reed stared at him in silence for several moments. A couple of times his lips parted as though he was going to say something but each time he remained silent. At length he merely nodded and murmured, "Thank you, Sir."

A few minutes later, they stood outside the door to Archer's quarters. The captain keyed in his security code and the door slid open.

As he stepped into the cabin Archer was ambushed by a small, furry body that cannoned into his legs, as Porthos ran to greet him, tail wagging furiously; the little dog set up a happy barking, licking first Archer's and then Reed's hands as they each bent down to greet him.

Moving to the bed, Archer sat down, secretly grateful to get off his feet again. He wondered how long this unsteadiness would last. Looking up, he met the grey-blue eyes of his armoury officer and smiled at him. "It's nice to be home," he said sincerely.

"Can I get you anything before I go back to work, Sir?"

A small flicker of disappointment ran through Archer at the words, but he hid it carefully. "Just some water," he said as he moved to the top of the bed and turned back the covers.

"My shift doesn't end until eighteen hundred," Reed added, "But if you'd like, I could bring you something to eat then?"

Archer had stewards who could perform that duty, but he suddenly realized he would like nothing more than for Reed to bring him his meal. "On one condition," he said softly.

"Sir?"

"Bring dinner for us both."

A beginning smile touched Reed's lips and he nodded. "Of course, Sir," he said softly.

After setting a pitcher of water and a glass where Archer could reach it on the bedside stand, Reed took his leave.

Archer settled into his bed and stroked the head of his little dog as he watched the doors close behind the lieutenant.

"I hope he brings a good appetite with him too," he said to Porthos. "Because I've got a feeling I'm going to be famished!"


Continued in O Captain My Captain! (Famine)

~the end~