Story Title: The Scars Of Malcolm Reed

Series: Scars

Rating: T

Summary: Malcolm Reed has a great many scars, these are their stories. First in my multi-fandom stand-alone Scars series. I feel the need to warn for illusions to past suicidal thoughts on Malcolm's part and pronounced references to severe bullying.

A/N: I'm a bit out of the loop with 'Enterprise' at the moment as I haven't had the time to watch any in a while but I was inspired to finish this when I met Connor Trinneer at a convention recently.

Some of these scars have quite extensive stories, particularly the swordfight ones witch I will Probably write once I have had a chance to re familiarise myself with the show.

Disclaimer: This is Fan Fiction, recognisable characters herein are not the property of the author. No copyright infringement intended.

Malcolm Reed had, in Trip Tucker's opinion, far too many scars. His physical scars began just above his hairline, it was just under two inches long and had taken Tucker by surprise when he saw it, or rather felt it, for the first time. They end on the sole of his left foot, it is, as with the rest of Malcolm, rather elegant, thin and curved slightly, it was a little more than two inches long and very old.

Each of Malcolm's scars, new and old have names in Trip's mind, though he would never admit to it, and he knows the story behind each one, a privilege afforded no one else. Though many have exciting tales of bravery, intrigue and heroism, as well as occasionally a smattering of stupidity and espionage, some have rather dull origins.

The almost two inch scar above his hairline was his oldest. Pale and thin, it was almost completely invisible, Trip (and coincidentally Malcolm) calls it Madeline after Malcolm's sister, who, in a fit of sibling rivalry, had thrown something, Malcolm could never remember what, at his head at the age of six. It would have normally required some treatment, other than being cleaned, by the very young boy, but he was never one to complain, so he had fixed it himself. There are only three people who even know about its existence, Madeline, to whom Malcolm occasionally mentions it, Malcolm himself and Trip.

The next scar down is at the base of his neck, almost four inches long, almost straight and slightly darker than the rest of him. A seventeen year old boy, whose name Malcolm has long forgotten, had pushed a then twelve year old Malcolm into an electrified fence, holding him there until it had severely burned him. Though many people close to him have seen it, the two of them are the only ones who know how he got it.

His shoulders house seven scars in total, the first, and perhaps the most exciting, of this cluster at least, ran all the way along his left collar bone. This one is perhaps Malcolm's favorite scar, there was hardly any discoloration in it and behind it was the most outlandish and quite romantic story, it was only just under two years old and he got it in a sword fight with an alien over Trip. They had only just started dating at the time and Trip, Malcolm and Captain Johnathan Archer had been visiting dignitaries on a planet they had discovered. Unbeknownst to them on that particular planet, accepting a glass of a substance that resembled wine and tasted faintly like strawberries and cream, was considered a binding betrothal. The only way to be freed without bringing dishonor on both parties was for a challenger to engage in a duel with one party or their nominated champion. The other party was the daughter of one of the dignitaries. She was quite atractave, like a good percentage of her race, she was quite short, smaller than Hoshi, and had long and deep red hair and skin that was ever so slightly orange. Her champion was the eldest of her three brouthers. He was only shorter than Malcolm by a few inches and was lean and muscular, upon seeing him for the first time, both Malcolm and Trip noted that he was far more Trip's type than his sister would ever be.

There was some rather impressive dueling from Malcolm who was eventually declared the victor and to his delight he had been allowed to keep both Trip and the sward, which was beautifully constructed of a fascinating native metal that gave it an almost emerald hue. The scar is known to Trip and Malcolm as D'Artagnan whilst the sward, which hangs in pride of place above Malcolm's bed has been dubbed Excalibur.

Malcolm's only other wound from that duel was a short, but deep gash on his right shoulder it was three and a half inches long and had been the result of a sloppy parry on the part of the other man.

Another one, on the back of his right shoulder, palm sized and only slightly discolored and minutely indented. It had been the result of an explosion in his Section 31 days.

The last two the result of a falling branch in his teens, they were no more than nicks and were little more than a finger's breath apart.

There was a round one, no more than a centimeter across, almost exactly halfway between shoulder and elbow of his left arm. It was not discolored, unless the skin around it was sunburned. There were three thin lines spreading out from around the edge. It had been the result of his being shot by his younger cousin who had not known the antique .22 bolt action rifle was loaded, the seven year old boy had been severely punished while ten year old Malcolm had been fascinated by the whole ordeal.

They didn't talk about the three, invisible and only sometimes present, perfectly parallel lines across his right wrist. The only person other than Malcolm who knew of their existence was Trip. They were the only ones that Malcolm did not take a measure of pride in. They were a symbol of his weakness, the first, and only, time he had ever almost given up. There had never been any physical injuries there, he was too smart to leave evidence but the scars that had been left there were real enough to cause him pain occasionally.

It was these that caused Trip the most distress, though he could never actually see them, he could tell when they were bothering Malcolm. He always did an impeccable job of hiding when things bothered him, frankly it made T'Pol jealous, so much so that very few people could tell whether he was ecstatic or furious unless Malcolm himself chose to show it. Trip had spent a good deal of time learning to read the emotions of Malcolm Reed and was perfectly attuned to them. For instance, where anyone else would see the man absently, and tightly, holding his right wrist instead of his left in his otherwise perfect 'at ease' stance, one that nobody else bothered with, Trip knew it meant that those three neat lines were causing him, no small amount of discomfort.

On his right side there was a tendril-like stripe, slightly discolored, just under a foot long and an inch wide at its widest point. It was the result of the same Section 31 explosion as the one on his left shoulder.

There was a surgical scar on his abdomen from where a part of his liver had been transplanted into Madeline when her own had suddenly and inexplicably stopped functioning properly.

The one on the sole of his left foot was almost as old as the one in his hairline, as his foot had grown it had elongated and it had become thin and white. This was the only injury Malcolm had no memory of and that fact bothered him more than it had any right to.