Big Bang - Moday snippet
This is the part I wrote today. Well I wrote more than this but this is what I'm sharing. Ha.
45 000 words... and going... boldly going nowhere. My brain is burned.
--- x ---
“Wake up Lieutenant. Come on, wake up,” Jennifer wished she was back in her infirmary. She would have several useful scanners at least, but right now the knowledge would do. Of course it would.
One month ago Colonel Carter sprained her ankle and ended up in the infirmary, under Jennifer's care. Jennifer liked the woman instantly- in some way she was similar to Doctor Weir - guarded but warm at the same time, calm and caring to everyone. As Jennifer somewhat nervously bandaged the ankle, the Colonel seemed to read young woman's mind.
“If those soldiers ever become jumpy, or too much to take, just pull the rank. It's also useful if they don't feel like themselves,” said Colonel Carter. Jennifer had looked at her and the new commander gave a warm, assuring smile. “Don't be afraid.. you'll do just fine, Doctor.”
As the Colonel had said, Jennifer called the man on the floor by his rank - that combined with damp gauze on his forehead seemed to call him back to consciousness.
Lieutenant Ford blinked at her weakly. This time he seemed too weak to protest against her hands checking his pulse and temperature.
“I need you to cooperate here with me,” she said, and this time her doctor - face was steadily in its place as she spoke. “What time of the day is it, Lieutenant?”
She looked at her with confusion and she caught an almost protest as he tried to rise from the floor - she pushed him gently back, pulling out her pen - light. He didn't react well to light, just as she had expected. “What time of the day is it?” she repeated firmly.
“Not sure,” croaked Ford. “Put that thing away,” he protested as she tried to point the small light toward his iris.
“Very well... tell me what year is it?”
“Who cares,” he groaned. “Would you leave me alone? My head is killing me,” he said and Jennifer took that as a positive sign. Admitting he was in pain was a step away from asking for help.
“Glad to hear that,” said Jennifer, finding the strength to give him slightly patronizing smile before she realized he ought to be older than her. But she was the doctor, the one in charge. “I'd be worried if you didn't feel any pain. What stuff are you on?” she asked, helping him to sit up. He stared at her, as she started unpacking her rucksack. “Lieutenant! I asked you something,” she pressed.
“You're annoying,” he protested, but stared as her shaky, yet determinant hands pulled out a syringe, then a needle and then a small ampoule. He had that hungry expression all of them had, the one Jennifer hated.
“You can't fool me,” she said. Jennifer's fingers were skilled in this task. “It's in your eyes,” she held up the filled syringe. His good eye pleaded to her to give him whatever that was.
He couldn't know it was just a vitamin mixture.
“You think it's disgusting,” accused Ford and she didn't have any niceness in her left.
“Yes I do. It's a disgusting thing, killing yourself in that way,” her words were heavy and harsh but she felt no regret as she watched him pull up his dirty sleeve.
Lieutenant Ford just stared as she gave him that shot, then pulled out another syringe and filled it with a sedative. God knew he was going to need it. She did the mental counting and concluded she had enough ampoules to last three days. It should be enough.
Hopefully.
“Now tell me how you feel,” she said when she finished disposing used syringes and needles in a small metal can.
“Thirsty,” he muttered, still staring at her. She couldn't read that expression on his face, but he wasn't aggressive any more and she got his attention. “And cold.”
“There's a small blanket in my rucksack,” she said and pulled off her jacket, folding in into a neat form. When she placed it on the ground she told him to lie down.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked as he curled on the floor, shivering and hugging his torso. Jennifer unpacked everything she had, finding the military issued, rough and ugly blanket on the bottom. She covered him first and then looked at his sweat covered face, pale skin and dirty hands.
“I'm a doctor. You need one,” she said and covered him up to his chin. Suddenly he seemed smaller and she remembered Sebastian - pale and thin, looking like a ghost of the man she used to know.
You killed yourself, you bastard. You never cared about anyone else, she thought.
This man in front of her wasn't Sebastian.
“Tell me your name, Lieutenant,” her words were softer and she brushed his cheek with her knuckles.
He closed his eyes.
“It's Aiden. Aiden Ford.”
“Pleased to meet you, Aiden.”
She smiled as his eyes dropped closed. She meant it.
45 000 words... and going... boldly going nowhere. My brain is burned.
--- x ---
“Wake up Lieutenant. Come on, wake up,” Jennifer wished she was back in her infirmary. She would have several useful scanners at least, but right now the knowledge would do. Of course it would.
One month ago Colonel Carter sprained her ankle and ended up in the infirmary, under Jennifer's care. Jennifer liked the woman instantly- in some way she was similar to Doctor Weir - guarded but warm at the same time, calm and caring to everyone. As Jennifer somewhat nervously bandaged the ankle, the Colonel seemed to read young woman's mind.
“If those soldiers ever become jumpy, or too much to take, just pull the rank. It's also useful if they don't feel like themselves,” said Colonel Carter. Jennifer had looked at her and the new commander gave a warm, assuring smile. “Don't be afraid.. you'll do just fine, Doctor.”
As the Colonel had said, Jennifer called the man on the floor by his rank - that combined with damp gauze on his forehead seemed to call him back to consciousness.
Lieutenant Ford blinked at her weakly. This time he seemed too weak to protest against her hands checking his pulse and temperature.
“I need you to cooperate here with me,” she said, and this time her doctor - face was steadily in its place as she spoke. “What time of the day is it, Lieutenant?”
She looked at her with confusion and she caught an almost protest as he tried to rise from the floor - she pushed him gently back, pulling out her pen - light. He didn't react well to light, just as she had expected. “What time of the day is it?” she repeated firmly.
“Not sure,” croaked Ford. “Put that thing away,” he protested as she tried to point the small light toward his iris.
“Very well... tell me what year is it?”
“Who cares,” he groaned. “Would you leave me alone? My head is killing me,” he said and Jennifer took that as a positive sign. Admitting he was in pain was a step away from asking for help.
“Glad to hear that,” said Jennifer, finding the strength to give him slightly patronizing smile before she realized he ought to be older than her. But she was the doctor, the one in charge. “I'd be worried if you didn't feel any pain. What stuff are you on?” she asked, helping him to sit up. He stared at her, as she started unpacking her rucksack. “Lieutenant! I asked you something,” she pressed.
“You're annoying,” he protested, but stared as her shaky, yet determinant hands pulled out a syringe, then a needle and then a small ampoule. He had that hungry expression all of them had, the one Jennifer hated.
“You can't fool me,” she said. Jennifer's fingers were skilled in this task. “It's in your eyes,” she held up the filled syringe. His good eye pleaded to her to give him whatever that was.
He couldn't know it was just a vitamin mixture.
“You think it's disgusting,” accused Ford and she didn't have any niceness in her left.
“Yes I do. It's a disgusting thing, killing yourself in that way,” her words were heavy and harsh but she felt no regret as she watched him pull up his dirty sleeve.
Lieutenant Ford just stared as she gave him that shot, then pulled out another syringe and filled it with a sedative. God knew he was going to need it. She did the mental counting and concluded she had enough ampoules to last three days. It should be enough.
Hopefully.
“Now tell me how you feel,” she said when she finished disposing used syringes and needles in a small metal can.
“Thirsty,” he muttered, still staring at her. She couldn't read that expression on his face, but he wasn't aggressive any more and she got his attention. “And cold.”
“There's a small blanket in my rucksack,” she said and pulled off her jacket, folding in into a neat form. When she placed it on the ground she told him to lie down.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked as he curled on the floor, shivering and hugging his torso. Jennifer unpacked everything she had, finding the military issued, rough and ugly blanket on the bottom. She covered him first and then looked at his sweat covered face, pale skin and dirty hands.
“I'm a doctor. You need one,” she said and covered him up to his chin. Suddenly he seemed smaller and she remembered Sebastian - pale and thin, looking like a ghost of the man she used to know.
You killed yourself, you bastard. You never cared about anyone else, she thought.
This man in front of her wasn't Sebastian.
“Tell me your name, Lieutenant,” her words were softer and she brushed his cheek with her knuckles.
He closed his eyes.
“It's Aiden. Aiden Ford.”
“Pleased to meet you, Aiden.”
She smiled as his eyes dropped closed. She meant it.