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A/N: Look! The Libran Iniquity isn't dead!! Still writing, only this time with me in our first Enterprise joint-fic.

Hope you enjoy!

Written Off

Admiral Forrest stared sympathetically down at Archer from the monitor. "Hello Jon."

Archer smiled broadly. "Admiral! What can I do for you?"

Forrest gave him an odd look and awkwardly shuffled some papers round on his desk. "After what happened, Jon, with the accident and everything, we still haven't heard your decision regarding Lieutenant Reed's replacement - or when you'll be returning." He gave Archer another look of sympathy. "I know things like this can be difficult-"

"Wait!" Archer interrupted. "A replacement for Malcolm? I don't need a replacement for the lieutenant, he's doing just fine."

"Are you feeling alright?" Forrest asked worriedly, his face creased in confusion. "I know this must be difficult for you, Jon, but the lieutenant can't possibly do his job anymore."

Archer merely stared back at the monitor, gazing at Forrest in sheer confusion. "Why can't he? Is he in some sort of trouble?"

Forrest sighed, looking troubled. He reshuffled his papers. "Jon," he said gently, "Lieutenant Reed is dead - don't you remember? The report was filed three days ago, his parents are requesting the body be returned to Earth."

A stunned silence followed as Archer tried to process what had been sent to him. "Malcolm's not dead," he managed eventually. "He's in sickbay, but he's still with us."

"I'm sure it still feels like he's with you," Forrest soothed, his eyes darted sideways as if he was considering calling a psychiatrist of some sort.

"No, he is still with us," Archer insisted. "I saw him only this morning; he's still recovering from his injuries and driving Phlox mad."

Forrest shook his head sadly. "Jon, perhaps you should go see the Doctor yourself, I understand it can be hard to lose a crewmember but Mr and Mrs Reed are waiting for the body to be returned to them."

"There's no body to be returned!" Archer snapped as he started to pace the room. "Malcolm Reed is alive, and I do not need to see a Doctor!" He stormed over to the comm. "Archer to Sickbay."

"Phlox here."

Taking a moment to compose himself, Archer glanced back at the monitor with Forrest watching him anxiously. "Phlox, is there any chance Mr Reed could be sent up to me?"

"Certainly, Captain, I was just about to release him to his quarters. He will be with you in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Archer out."

Archer returned to his desk. "I've sent for the lieutenant," he announced. "Someone's messed up somewhere, but I can assure you he's still alive."

o o o o o

Malcolm hobbled into the room, acutely aware of his less than impeccable appearance hampered further by the large cast on his foot and the crutches. "You wanted to see me, sir?" He said shifting awkwardly further into the room. The Captain grinned with relief and turned his attention back to the monitor from which Malcolm could see a very shocked Admiral Forrest staring at him.

"Yes, I did, Malcolm," Archer smiled, "Here, sit down." He gestured to the chair.

Malcolm hesitated then complied. He nodded politely to Admiral Forrest. "May I ask what this is about, Captain?"

"It seems," Admiral Forrest broke in suddenly, looking caught between horror, embarrassment, and trying to keep his expression neutral, "that a grave mistake has been made."

"Sir?" Now Malcolm was confused, confused and worried.

"Malcolm, it appears that somehow Starfleet were informed of your death," said Archer sobering slightly. "Wrongly informed, obviously. But it's a mistake that will need to be rectified."

Malcolm managed to keep his expression carefully neutral, digesting this information. "So, don't they just need to remove the deceased label from my file?"

Forrest shook his head. "It's not quite that simple I'm afraid, Lieutenant, bureaucracy and all that. You'll have to contact admin here on Earth; there will be several forms to fill in to... reinstate you, as it were."

Malcolm blinked; it took less than 3 seconds to mark down his death, but needed paperwork to prove he was alive?! He glanced up at Archer, then another thought struck him. "Have my family been told?"

"I'm afraid so," said Forrest guilt creeping into his voice. "Would you rather I contact them or would you prefer to do it yourself?"

"I think I'd rather do it myself," said Malcolm carefully, reining everything in, including his rising urge to yell at everyone around him about the stupidity of the Starfleet's 'finest' admin staff, saying he was dead...did he look dead? Also, what would his family be thinking? His father would probably be pacing round the living room yelling about how he knew his son would meet a sticky end, and his mother...well, better not think about that. He suddenly became aware of Archer speaking to him, and felt instantly irritated with himself for tuning out his superiors. "Pardon, sir?"

"I was just saying that perhaps it would be best for you to contact your family right away," said Archer patiently. "I'll have Hoshi establish contact."

"Right. Thank you, sir." Malcolm nodded trying not to show his irritation. "I'd appreciate that."

o o o o o

Malcolm sat himself down in front of the monitor, Hoshi had managed to establish a connection to his parents, now he was just waiting for one of them to answer, painfully aware it was early morning for his parents. He didn't have to wait long. His mother's face suddenly flashed into view, her red, puffy eyes widened as she took in the face of the caller, her mouth falling open.

"Hello Mum," said Malcolm awkwardly.

Mary's legs folded beneath her and she sank into the chair. "Malcolm," she whispered, "I thought - they said... I mean... oh Malcolm..."

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair, and winced feeling the pain in his foot increase slightly as he shifted his position in the chair. "There was a mistake made down in admin, it wasn't me, some other poor sod I guess..." He trailed off; his mother had lowered her head, hiding her face from the screen, her shoulders shaking. "Mum?" She didn't reply. "Please don't, mum. Honestly, I'm fine -" he glanced down to make sure his leg was hidden from her view and winced, remembering the grazes adorning his face that wouldn't be so easily hidden. He watched his mother, trying to ignore the guilty feeling in his stomach. "Mum..."

He watched as Mary quickly dragged her hands across her face, taking a deep breath as she did so, before raising her head to see him again. "Let me get your father. Don't go anywhere," she said quietly, her face still partially hidden from him. "Stay right where you are..." She trailed off glancing between him and something he couldn't see as if reluctant to actually leave. Finally after a moment's hesitation she remained standing in the middle of the room, her eyes boring into him as though she thought if she looked away for a second, he would disappear. "Stuart!" She called loudly. "Stuart, get in here! Get in here, NOW!"

She didn't bother waiting for an answer, instead moving back towards the monitor scrutinising his face. "Are you alright?" she asked him her eyes falling on every bruise and graze in turn. "When they called... I..."

"I'm fine, honestly," he said, ignoring the traitorous throbbing in his foot. "It was just some huge cock-up down in the admin department. I'm really sorry..." He bit his lip uncertainly, unsure of what to say.

"You look like you've been through the wars," she said softly. She turned and spoke to someone off screen. "It's Malco-"

His mother was practically shoved out the way by his father; Malcolm leant back in his chair as Stuart's face loomed large on the screen. Stuart stared at him in shock, he paled dramatically. "Malcolm?"

"Dad, I -" Malcolm began.

Stuart cut him off, his face now rapidly turning red. "Do you know the hell we've been through?! We thought you were... we were told you were - good God, Malcolm!"

Staring at his father Malcolm was struck with a sudden realisation. His father had been crying. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, looking sore from being wiped so many times. He hadn't expected this, his mother yes, but... Reed men didn't cry, his father had drilled that into him, they didn't cry...yet the evidence was there, there for the world to see.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even know this mistake had happened 'til the Admiral contacted Captain Archer," Malcolm faltered. "I'm truly sorry."

"It's not your fault," Stuart barked out. "Don't you dare apologise! I knew you couldn't trust Starfleet, those idiots don't know their arse from their elbow! I'm going to put those people through hell! I wonder how many other people's lives they've devastated with their utter stupidity? Quite a few, I suspect..."

Malcolm watched as his father started to pace the room, ranting and raving about the idiocy of Starfleet, it was unnerving seeing how little control his father had left. It was unnerving just seeing how his parents had responded to the news of his death.

His mother appeared on screen again, she smiled as she stared at him. "I'm so glad you're alive sweetheart," she said softly. She reached out towards the monitor a moment then let her hand fall again. "I do worry about you...and when they told us I - it was hard, especially for your father, dear." Her gaze took on a faraway look.

"I am truly sorry though," said Malcolm helplessly, his console beeped the 30 second warning. "Listen, I haven't got much time left-" He winced at his choice of words. "I mean there isn't much call time left. Are you and Dad going to be...alright?"

Mary nodded and smiled sadly. "Do call back, soon. I'm sure your father will have stopped ranting by then." She glanced back at Stuart who was still muttering to himself and pacing. "Stuart, Malcolm has to go, come say goodbye before..." She paused. "Just come say goodbye."

Stuart hurriedly approached the screen. "Son, I... keep in touch." He stared at Malcolm. "And keep yourself safe, you're in an organisation of imbeciles," he added gruffly. "Or you'll answer to me - understand?"

"Yes sir," Malcolm smiled slightly. "You'll let everyone else know?"

"Of course, but you should give them a call as well," said Mary.

Malcolm nodded. "Yes, Mum. Bye... I'll call back later or write soon, I promise."

His father's features softened. "Call soon, son."

"We love you," his mother added gently.

Malcolm opened his mouth to speak but the screen cut off. He stared at the blank screen.

We love you...

He swallowed feeling a lump rise in his throat. It had been a long time since he had heard anything like that from his parents; usually they just 'sent their best'. It was weird to say the least.

o o o o o

"Apparently, Mathis heard from Louis that he isn't just injured - he's dead!"

"You're kidding! That can't be true, someone would have said something!"

Trip's ears perked up, and he very subtly leaned more to the right, glancing across at Travis, who was staring back his face creased in confusion. Someone was dead? He hadn't heard anything, he glanced at the sources, three crewmembers from the science department; Travis shrugged at his questioning look. Trip slowly stuck a fork in his pie, raising it to his mouth.

"I don't think anything's been said, it's all very hush-hush."

"I don't believe you."

"Well when was the last time you saw Lieutenant Reed walking around the ship?"

"Oh yeah... I thought he was in Sickbay? Away mission gone south again, I heard."

"That's probably how he died."

Trip's jaw dropped and staring at Travis, he saw his eyes widen with shock. Dead? Malcolm? No, that couldn't be true. Behind them the three crewmembers got up to leave.

"It's such a shame, he was alright really, bit of a bastard sometimes but still an alright kind of guy..."

Travis leaned across the table staring at Trip his eyes wide. "Is it true?"

"I don't know, he was fine, just busted his foot..." Trip trailed off. "Nothing's been said, Jon wouldn't keep this kind of thing a secret." He paused and set down his fork. "I'll just go talk to Phlox." Trip resisted the urge to run to the comm., doubt trickling through his mind. After all, Malcolm had been hurt... Travis stood by his side, and Trip gave him what he hoped was a reassuring grin. He tapped the comm. "Tucker to Phlox."

"Phlox here, what can I do for you Commander?"

"I was just wonderin' if Malcolm was there, is all."

There was a pause. "No, Mr Reed isn't here anymore."

Trip looked at Travis in alarm. "What do you mean, Doc?"

There was a scuffling noise in the background, followed by a loud screech. "I'm sorry, Commander, I'll have to get back to you, my bat's out her cage again -"

Trip and Travis stared at each other.

0 0 0 0

Malcolm shuffled to the door, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'm coming, hang on," he grumbled smacking the door release. "Trip?"

"You're not dead!" Trip blurted out, a broad grin stretching across his features, stepping into Malcolm's room looking extremely relieved.

"Reports of my untimely death have been greatly exaggerated, much to the good doctor's dismay - I still require medical treatment." Malcolm glanced down at the offending appendage and then eyed Trip warily.

Trip beamed at him. "You aren't dead!" He repeated happily.

"Yes, we've established that one." Malcolm rubbed a tired hand over his face and sighed. "I can't believe that rumour's gotten round already." He paused. "Wait, scratch that, I'm surprised it took this long. Although, I suppose officially it is true."

Trip grinned sheepishly. "Call it a testament to your... skills that people're actually believin' it!" he offered.

Despite himself, Malcolm smirked. "I wonder what Phlox's reaction to the news was..."

"No, oh no!" Surprised at Trip's outburst, Malcolm cocked his head to one side; Trip continued. "It'd break his heart to know the rumours're untrue," he said with false sincerity. The moment over, he grinned. "As far as I know he doesn't know anything about it," he added. "I asked him where you were before I came here."

Malcolm stared at him. "So why did you still think I was dead?"

"He...ah...said you weren't there anymore..."Trip shuffled sheepishly. "Before I could ask him anything else his bat got out her cage and he went to go deal with that, so I came here."

Malcolm pondered this for a moment; he didn't know whether to laugh or not. Then he realised he really ought to be touched at Trip's reaction to Phlox's latest unintentional faux pas, and smiled. "What about you?" he asked Trip. "Are you glad the rumours aren't true?"

Trip eyeballed him. "Is that a trick question?" he asked. "O' course I'm glad you're not dead!"

"Just checking," Malcolm grinned

Trip glanced down at the cast on Malcolm's foot. "How's the fo -" He paused mid-sentence, suddenly recalling Malcolm's earlier comment. "What do you mean you're officially dead?!"

Malcolm's warm and fuzzy feeling quickly disappeared. "Starfleet's records list a Lieutenant Malcolm Reed as having died on a deep space mission three days ago."

Trip stared. "An' they think it's you... How the hell could they make a mistake like that?"

"That's what I'm planning on finding out," Malcolm replied softly.

Trip stared at Malcolm's face, taking in the grazes and the tired eyes. "Wait. Does this mean your family was informed?"

Malcolm nodded and sighed. "I've already contacted them. They were..." He paused and sighed. "They were happy I'm alive." He smiled a little. "I think my father will be complaining though - I'd love to be privy to that conversation."

"Complainin' that you're alive, or that he was woken up at six in the mornin' to be misinformed by Starfleet about his son's death?" Trip grinned.

"Definitely the first, but because of the second," Malcolm replied. "Madeleine would have found it hilarious, of course. Probably a good thing she wasn't there when I called, I'd never have heard the end of it..."

He shrugged and hobbled towards the nearest chair. Trip watched him looking mildly amused.

"You know, I think the crutches Phlox gave you, you're supposed to use."

Malcolm shot him a filthy look, sinking onto the seat and trying not to sigh as the pressure on his foot eased. "So. You want to stick around while I try to resurrect myself in the eyes of Starfleet?"

Trip grinned. "Maybe I'd be safer in Engineerin'." He got up and moved towards the door. "Let me know how it turns out, okay?"

Malcolm nodded. "Will do."

"And you'd better start using those crutches before someone lets slip to Phlox that they're gatherin' dust," Trip added mischievously, darting out the door before Malcolm could call him back.

"Pick on the cripple, why don't you!" he called out as the door slid shut. He then smiled to himself, took a deep breath, and turned to the computer. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this...

o o o o o

An overly cheerful-looking woman appeared onscreen. She gave Malcolm a dazzling smile and announced in a fruity voice: "Starfleet Administrative Department, how may I help you?"

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "I think someone in your department may have just made the biggest mistake of their career."

The woman's smile lessened about two degrees. "And how is that?"

"Apparently, I'm dead."

The woman stared at him closely. "Sir, we don't make mistakes in this department, and we don't appreciate time-wasters." She flashed him another beaming smile, albeit with a frosty edge to it. "Have a good day now!"

"Wait!" Malcolm snapped slamming his fist down. "You see this face? Does this look like the face of a man who has time enough to spare to be calling from a starship just in order to make your day that little bit more interesting?!"

"Sir, if you don't calm down I will cut the connection," the woman informed him icily.

Malcolm took a deep breath. "My name is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, two -"

"Sir, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed died in the course of duty a few days ago," The woman interrupted him frowning. She tapped the small computer on her desk. "Records confirm it."

"Well, I'm sitting right here!" Malcolm replied, as loudly and forcefully as he dared. "Our doctor may be good at what he does, but even he hasn't mastered reviving the dead. Therefore, there has been a mistake," he finished, staring pointedly at the woman.

There was a long pause, finally the women's icy expression softened slightly. "Alright, sir, I'm sure I can help." She smiled at him. "Now who do you think is your commanding officer?" She asked in a patronising tone.

Malcolm stared at her. "Who do I think? Listen to me, I serve under Captain Jonathan Archer on the Starship Enterprise, my name is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, and I'm not dead - just bloody annoyed!"

"I've told you before, the Starfleet Administrative Department do not make mistakes," She paused and as an afterthought added: "Sir." She turned her gaze back to her PADD. "A report was sent from the Starship Intrepid regarding -"

"I serve on the Enterprise!" Malcolm interrupted staring at the woman, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"What?" She frowned and looked at the PADD. "Lieutenant Malcolm Reed died on the Intrepid a few days ago." She resumed glaring at him. "Please, stop wasting my time and direct any issues you might have regarding your own mortality to the nearest physician."

Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose, and said "Check your database, it should clearly state that I - Lieutenant Malcolm Reed - serve aboard the Enterprise. Not the Intrepid."

"I'm looking at the database," the woman frostily replied a few seconds later. "And it clearly states that Lieutenant Malcolm Reed died on the Intrepid as a result of injuries caused by a shuttlepod malfunction." Her tone of voice was the "okay, dumbass, I've humoured you enough, now be on your way" type, but Malcolm wasn't swayed in the slightest.

"What does he look like?" Malcolm asked. "This... other Lieutenant Reed?"

The woman glanced down at her information, looked from Malcolm to the PADD, tapped something onto the PADD and suddenly blushed violently. "I... er... it appears there's been a slight misunderstanding," she said in a small voice. "Lieutenant, it appears we wrongly mislabelled you dead instead of Lieutenant Malcolm Reid aboard the Intrepid. I...ah..." She faltered.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "Yes...?" he prompted.

"It would seem that the, ah, the... I... that is to say..." For the first time, the woman appeared at a complete loss for words.

Malcolm merely blinked.

Onscreen, the woman took a breath. "It would seem that -- for the first time since I've been in charge, you understand!" she flashed him a poor imitation of her earlier smiles, "that... we...the Starfleet Administrative Department appear to have made a mistake." She pulled a face at Malcolm. "Please don't tell my superiors -- I'm due for an award in excellence next month, this could ruin everything!"

Malcolm pasted a smile on his face. "I'll tell you what I want you to do. I want you to change the deceased label on my file, without any of that faffing around with paperwork -- yes?" The smile dropped off his face. "Then, I want you to place the deceased label on that other poor bastard's file and let his family know. Do you think you can do that or should I place a quick call to the complaints department?"

The woman's eyes widened. "Yessir, of course, sir." She whipped up another PADD from the desk. "I'll notify you when the appro... when the changes have been made, sir."

"Thank you," Malcolm nodded. "Reed out."

And as the screen went blank, Malcolm realised he'd never got the woman's name. So much for complaining...

Suddenly realising he hadn't eaten he stood up, hobbled to the door, then scowled and returned for his crutches. It was slow going to the mess hall, especially as every few seconds he had to stop and reassure trembling crewmembers that they weren't seeing dead people. And on one occasion get Crewman Rostov to stop squealing about how he had inherited his grandmother's gift to commune with the dead.

But it was upon entering the mess hall that he had the strongest reaction. Everyone turned to stare at him in shock and horror. Unable to resist, Malcolm leaned on his crutches, grinned, and whispered "boo". Instant pandemonium broke out.

Malcolm waved cheerfully to the crewmembers bolting past him, screaming their heads off as they ran away. Leaving only Hoshi sat in the centre of the room watching him.

"Well, what's the point of being dead if you can't enjoy the perks?" He asked her grinning as he swiped the last remaining piece of pineapple cake from the serving counter.

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