Author's Note:

Sorry for the wait in posting. My muse fled for a bit as I was waging war against weeds and laundry, trying to get real life under control after school let out. Things are better now, though, so I hope to not have such a long break this next time.

Chapter 67

"Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died."

- Erma Bombeck

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"So, did you bring your burlap sack?" Harper said as he sat on the med-bed, pulling his blankets tighter around his shoulders in the frigid air. He listened as his visitor slipped almost silently into the room.

"How did you know it was me, boy?" Tyr's voice growled.

"Oh, please. Anyone with half a nose could smell your shampoo from a mile away."

There was silence and Harper wondered if Tyr was pondering that, or getting ready to knock his head off. Finally, the big Niet spoke again.

"And why would I bring such a thing as a burlap sack with me, human?"

Harper rolled his sightless eyes and said in a sing-song voice, "Blind and crippled. If Andromeda were my child, I'd drown it. Well, buddy, that would be me, blind and crippled, and burlap sacks are the traditional method for drowning small, pitiful creatures, so what are ya waiting for?"

"Are you asking me to do it?" Tyr's voice sounded right next to his ear this time, making Harper jump.

"What? No! Of course not!" he cried, scooting away slightly. "I mean, not really…"

"So you feel you are worthless now?"

"Well, look at me!" Harper said bitterly, waving his crippled hands in front of his blind eyes before pushing the nasal cannula back into place.

"Are you telling me that you, the self-proclaimed genius, cannot think of a solution to these minor problems? What happened to trust in the Harper, the Harper is good?" The last part was echoed back to him in the same whiny voice he'd used earlier.

"Minor problems!" Harper cried, angry now. "You call these minor problems? Have you ever tried being blind, Mr. Uber Perfect? Having hands that don't work?"

"No," Tyr answered, and suddenly there were hands on his head, turning it to face the Niet's position straight on. "Nor do I plan to. But I have been a slave, and I have crawled and clawed and fought my way up from there, watching those too weak and pitiful to survive fall by the wayside and die. And I will tell you this once and only once, Master Harper, you are stronger than that! So stop this childish self-pitying and get up and fight! Fight to get your life back!"

Harper jerked his head away, seething. For a long time, no one said a word, but as he sat there in the silence, he felt the fury begin to drain away. Finally, he rolled his eyes.

"Is that why you came all the way down here? To make me so angry I'd get better just to spite you? To give me another one of your crappy life and hope speeches? Because, believe me they have not gotten better with time."

Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of Tyr's laughter. Harper rolled his eyes again.

"That," the big man said after a moment, "and to give Trance the medical package from Sinti."

Harper turned toward him in surprise. "Wait, what? You mean you were the one that volunteered to go get that? For me?"

"Fight Harper," was Tyr's only answer, his voice sounding once again very close to his ear. "You are stronger than you think." Then Tyr walked away, but he spoke one last time from the doorway. "Oh, and Harper? Trance wished for me to inform you that when she releases you from her care, I will be overseeing your physical therapy."

"Ugh," Harper groaned, leaning back against his pillows. "Just kill me now."

Tyr's laughter carried back to him as the Uber walked away.

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"Are you comfortable Harper?"

Harper nodded to Trance, trying not to show the tension he actually felt. The puckered, twisted scabs and tender new scars of his healing back were pressed against the padded exam table, still feeling slightly painful, but they weren't the source of his real discomfort. No, that was the restraints that were currently circling his wrists and ankles. They were soft, meant to protect not punish, but they still sent his unease through the roof. He couldn't help remembering that the last time he'd been bound to a table like this he'd ended up blind.

"Are these really necessary?" Beka spoke up, as if reading his mind, thumbing the restraints before letting her hand slide down to grasp his gently. He wished he could squeeze back but it was his worthless left hand so he could only turn his head and smile in her direction to show he was grateful.

"Unfortunately, yes. Once the eradication scan starts it cannot be interrupted. We have to be certain that Harper cannot accidentally move outside the field for the duration of the scan," Trance answered.

Harper grimaced. This was the part of the "Get Harper Better" plan he was not excited about.

Tyr had returned from Sinti with good news and good drugs. The chin-heads had his strain of TB on file, the drugs and instructions to treat it, and somehow, through the Niet's own special brand of negotiation, had been persuaded to share.

The treatment was a three step plan, modified slightly to account for his crappy immune system. The first part had been easy. He'd spent the night hooked up to an IV that pumped him full of nanobot enhanced drugs. The super-antibiotic-bots had hopefully been busy finding all the Tuberculosis cells hiding out in his body and attached to them.

Now they were ready to start the second step. The super drug would be activated by a special energy scan. While inside the field, the little antibiotic-bots would go to work, actively destroying the TB cells. In the space of four hours the super drug and scan could do what used to take six months to accomplish. And that was really awesome in Harper's book, but the downside was it would also be really painful. All those nano-anti-whatevers dashing around his body fighting World War Fourteen? How could it not be – especially for a lowly, unmodified human like himself? But he was whole-heartedly in favor of four hours of intense pain over six more months of this stupid disease and the awful coughing. Pain and he were old buddies – he could deal with pain. Still, he wasn't looking forward to it, and Trance had insisted on the restraints anyway, just in case.

Once this was all over, Harper would hopefully start feeling human again. He would still have to complete step three: a month's worth of oral antibiotics to make sure all the bacteria was gone as TB had a nasty habit of hiding out in organs and tissues and then staging an ambush later when it was least expected, and a one week course of nanos to repair the sores and legions that had developed in his lungs in the last few months. But he would finally be able to get up and move around without coughing his head off! Finally be able to leave Med-deck and rejoin the land of the living!

Of course, he had no idea what he'd do after that, but he figured he'd deal with that later. One crisis at a time was all he could handle right now.

"And why can't you give him any pain medication?" Beka asked, drawing Harper out of his own head and back into the room he was lying in.

"Does mixing drugs, Harper's immune system, and this new scan technology sound like a good idea to you?" Trance replied.

"No, that sounds bad," Harper answered before Beka could. "Very bad. So, how about we just get this over with?"

"Almost ready," Trance replied, pausing for just a moment to brush a gentle hand through his cropped hair. He wished he could see the special smile he knew she was probably giving him.

"Dylan here?" he asked after a moment.

Dylan had been busy the last few days, settling back into command and all his captainly duties; he hadn't seen him as much lately. Harper had kind of hoped his friend would stop in before this oh-so-fun treatment got underway.

"No," Beka answered, still holding onto his hand. "Just me and Trance." Harper thought he heard a twinge of sadness and maybe jealousy in her voice.

"Hey, you're the best, Beks, and I'm so glad you're here. I was just wondering."

"All right. Beka, you need to move back now so we can start," Trance interrupted before Beka could respond to him.

Beka patted his hand then stepped away, and Harper was left alone on the padded table, unable to move his arms or legs and trying not to succumb to the panic of memories and anticipated pain.

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The atmosphere of Med-deck was hushed when Dylan entered, only the steady hum of the green-tinted energy field that covered the exam table where Harper lay breaking the silence. A half-asleep Beka sat vigil a few feet away from the edge of the scan, her feet up on an unused bed and her head resting on her fist. She stirred, opening tired eyes as he approached.

"How is he?" Dylan whispered, nodding his head in Harper's direction.

"Exhausted. His pain level's been pretty steady. It's not sky high but I can tell it's bad despite what he tries to tell me. I think he's finally managed to fall asleep, though."

Dylan glanced at his young friend, frowning, before turning back to Beka.

"Go take a nap," he said. "You'll want to be awake when this is done. I'll sit with him for a while."

Beka opened her mouth to argue but a huge yawn escaped instead. She blushed and shook her head ruefully. "Okay, but wake me if anything changes."

"Scout's honor," Dylan promised.

"You were a scout?" she asked around another yawn as she stood up.

"Three hundred plus years ago, yes," he said with a smile.

"I'm not sure that's still valid."

"Once a scout, always a scout. Now, go sleep before you tip over and I have to place your sorry butt on one of Trance's beds as well."

"Going," she said, yawning yet a third time.

Dylan watched her leave before stepping up as close to Harper's bed as the scan field would allow. He frowned again, irrationally upset to see the restraints fastened around the boy's wrists and ankles. If they brought back a slew of bad memories for him he could only imagine the effect they must be having on his friend. Harper lay ridged and tense, his forehead creased with fine lines that told Dylan of his stress and pain.

They also told him another thing – Harper was most certainly not sleeping.

"Hey," he said softly.

Harper's head turned almost imperceptibly in Dylan's direction but he didn't open his eyes. After a long moment he finally spoke.

"Dylan." His voice was rough. "Can't fool you, huh?"

"Not the first time I've watched you fake sleep to hide that you're in pain," Dylan answered sadly. "How bad is it?"

"Somewhere between standard Uber beating and hanging on a wooden cross," the young man answered quietly.

An answer laced with sarcasm and yet also honest. It still felt like such an honor to be trusted by Harper with true answers, knowing full well that those truths went against his friend's gut instinct of hiding.

"Honestly," Harper continued, finally opening his eyes. "The worst part is not being able to move." He gave a small tug against the bands holding his wrists before sighing in defeat. "Do you know how much longer I've got?"

Before Dylan could answer, Rommie's hologram appeared beside him. "There are approximately one hundred and thirty-eight minutes remaining on the scan."

Harper heaved another weary sigh and squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Trance and I are monitoring everything closely and you are doing well, Harper, but you need to tell us if the pain is too much," Rommie said gently.

"I'm fine," the young man lied, his teeth slightly clenched. "I'll survive two more hours."

Rommie blinked out, leaving them physically alone again, though Dylan had no doubt Andromeda was still watching and Trance was only a whisper away.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked, feeling helpless as he watched Harper lay there.

Harper gave a tiny shake of his head. "No. Stay. Just…maybe…we can not talk for a while?" Exhaustion and aching practically oozed from him as spoke.

"I think I can manage that," Dylan said. "I can catch up on paperwork," he joked.

He waited for the funny quip or flippant remark, but instead the kid just nodded. Another sign of just how much Harper was really hurting. "Try to rest, Mr. Harper," he whispered, then moved over to the chair Beka had left empty, knowing it was going to be a very long two hours.

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"Everything looks really good, Harper," Trance said, pleased with the results Andromeda was showing her on the screen. "It appears the scan and modified antibiotics have been able to eradicate ninety-seven percent of the TB cells! The oral medicine we will start tomorrow should have no trouble clearing out the rest. I'm going to shut the scan down now, okay?"

Her patient gave an exhausted nod.

She keyed in a few codes and the green field surrounding Harper fizzled out. Immediately, she realized just how tense he'd been when his whole body sagged back into the table, small tears of relief leaking out of the corners of his tightly shut eyes.

"Oh, Harper," she said, instantly at his side, Beka and Dylan only a step behind her. Gently she wiped the tears away with her fingers before running them comfortingly through his hair, something she'd always done to sooth him when he was ill. "It's okay, it's done. And you did amazing."

"So, is he cured?" Beka asked, hope in her voice for the first time in forever.

"Well, he will have to be careful because his lungs will be more susceptible to these types of diseases from now on, but as long as he completes the nano and antibiotic treatment I don't see any reason he should not make a full recovery from this."

"Thanks, Trance," Harper finally muttered, sounding close to passing out.

"Sh, just rest now," she told him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. "We can worry about the rest of the plan tomorrow."

She expected him to relax and drift off almost immediately, he was so tired, but instead he shook his head, forcing his clenched eyes open.

"No. I can't. Not here," he said, a little panicked.

"Why not?" Trance asked, confused. Harper had been sleeping in her Med-deck since they arrived back on the ship and it had never bothered him before.

"Please. Just not on this table…with the…" He didn't finish the sentence, but pulled against the restraints weakly.

A light flashed on in her brain and she wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. Harper had just spent almost a year in chains and she wanted him to rest easily while strapped down to a table? She wasted no more time in releasing his ankles while Beka and Dylan took care of his wrists. Carefully, the captain helped Harper sit up, almost completely holding his weight.

"Thank you," Harper whispered, practically asleep where he sat.

"Help him back to his bed in the private room," she ordered her friends, moving ahead to make sure it was ready to receive him. As she fluffed the pillows and fixed the messy blankets, an odd lump near the foot caught her eye and she reached down, pulling out the saddest black mess of an old stuffed toy she'd ever seen.

She raised her eyebrow questioningly at Beka who had just entered with Dylan, Harper supported between them.

"Don't ask," Beka mouthed, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Shaking her head, Trance turned back to the bed and placed the – well she thought it might be a stuffed cat – gently on the pillow where Harper would be sure to find it. Then together, the three of them managed to get the limp and exhausted engineer onto the bed and tucked in tightly.

"Get some sleep, Harper. I promise you are going to feel so much better in the morning."

Harper never answered. He was already out like a light.