[communications] [sickbay - open]
After receiving a message from Dr. McCoy, Tina went straight to sickbay to hold down the fort until her CMO was able to get his act together. Unfortunately, that meant that she had to change her plans regarding one particular patient.
She sent a message as soon as she arrived.
Private to Spock (mirroredspockSomething came up, and I can't come to you to do ( Read more... )
She sent a message as soon as she arrived.
Private to Spock (mirroredspockSomething came up, and I can't come to you to do ( Read more... )
Since getting the news of his daughter and another version of himself shuttling on board, Bones hadn't stopped. After the heart wrenching debriefing, if one could call it that, all he wanted was to go somewhere and sit, think, be still, for just a few moments.
But first, he had to stop by Sickbay and retrieve his comm device from his office, where he'd left it. Walking briskly, he circled 'round the corner and headed back to his desk when he spotted Tina talking to - what the fuck? "Nurse Chapel?" he asked gruffly. "Is everything all right?"
Like hell he was going to let one of them bother any of his staff.
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"Yes, Sir. I thought you weren't going to be coming in for this shift?"
Okay, now she sounded like she'd been caught doing something wrong.
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His heart rate elevated, as did his breathing. It was the same McCoy that had tended to Christopher, that had escorted them to their room but in this setting...
He flashed a look to Tina, mouth a thin line, pupils huge.
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Moving slow, and hoping he'd understand what she was doing enough not to be even more agitated, Tina reached over and put her hand on Spock's arm, her thumb resting on the back of his hand.
Skin to skin. She tried to project calm, reassurance.
"It's okay," she murmured.
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He could not stop the images racing through ihs mind, though she surely saw them: McCoy tracing a finger over Spock's face as he lay restrained on a bio bed, McCoy with blood to his elbows exposing himself to Spock, McCoy with his scalpel smiling gently while delicately peeling back layers of muscle as Spock asks questions of a screaming prisoner.
It is a confused welter, threaded through other memories of bones broken as a result of Sarek's training, dragging himself through the height of the desert heat to reach home and medical attention, telling his mother that he had fallen - he had been pushed, another one of Sarek's tests.
Spock's eyes blank out, he is not there, not in his own mind, but somehow, by the edges of his fingernails, he restrains himself - he does not snap out to break Tina's arm but he also does not move, simply stands, caught off-guard, and trembles. He is caught in the blackness.
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Ours isn't like that. He's a good man. He yells and he drinks too much and he's kind of a dick sometimes, but he'd never hurt someone.
She tried to repeat the same thoughts to herself over and over, wanting to drown Spock's out, but his memories, tinged with fear and disgust and hatred, were far more visceral than hers.
"Oh fuck," she gasped. "I'm gonna be sick."
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Pulling out a scanner, Bones began taking her readings. Throwing a glare at the other man, he said coldly, "If you hurt her in any way-"
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He was torn - he could leave while this McCoy scanned Tina. But it did not seem.... He could not simply leave her.
Spock drew himself tightly together, gripped the bottom of his tunic and pulled it straight - it was not to disguise the tremor of his hands. He watched every move of McCoy's hands but spoke to Tina.
"Are you well? Can I aid you?"
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And then, her body still shaking with an adrenaline response that wasn't hers, goddamnit, she lost the battle against her autonomic responses and vomited.
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His nose wrinkled as he approached the stunned doctor, decorated with... Spock did not care to identify the items upon which Tina had breakfasted though he could have.
"Tina." His voice was soft as he edged around McCoy to stand by Tina's side. He smoothed the cloth over her forehead to absorb the cold sweat.
"Are you not a doctor? Will you at least retrieve some water for her?"
Somehow he had become the caretaker, again, as he had with his mother at times; his stomach was in knots but he wiould not allow McCoy - had never allowed McCoy to see - the depth of his fearful response.
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"You need to step away from her," Bones told him in a calm, even voice, eying the other man carefully, "until I've finished making sure she is unharmed, unless you are going to tell me what happened to make her ill."
Sontra, the medic who had brought the water, returned now with a medical scrub top, and Bones stepped away from Tina only long enough to pull off his shirt and quickly change into the unsoiled clothing.
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"Tina, it is well. I apologize - and I am grateful for your efforts."
He... hovered.
He risked a glance that did not rise higher than the middle of the doctor's chest.
"I owe you no explanation - I offer it only for her sake. She touched my skin. She is... sensitive to certain memories that I cannot control in all situations."
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Bones looked to Tina, who blanched and held the basin to her mouth again, as is she were going to be sick. "Like some sort of meld?" he asked curiously, wondering what he had been thinking about that made her retch like this.
He seemed overly interested in Tina's situation. "She should be fine," he said, picking up the hypospray and administering it to her neck gently, then encouraging her with a smile to lay back on the bed.
Looking back up, he gazed over at Spock, eyes dark with curiosity. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
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"A meld? No. That would be very different indeed."
He was almost insulted.
"Tina required my presence for a final scan. I was aiding her with supply inventory. You surprised me."
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Wait - "I surprised you, and she got sick. So this is all my fault?" Bones looked down at Tina on the bed. "Nice," he told her, heading to the counter to clean his hands off.
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