a/n: Well, I just can't seem to help myself. Here is the second installment of what I guess I'll call the Redemption series. Each stands alone, but each vignette appears chronologically as the series progresses. Enjoy! (FCB Lurvin' as always!)
"Grendlers in the Mist"
Day 72 (12:43am)
"Doc…hey, Doc?"
Something was tugging at the edge of Julia's consciousness.
Dozing with her face plastered in the one vacant spot on her worktable, she decided that whomever was softly summoning her was being far too considerate for it to be anything urgent.
"Heller! You in there?"
Most of Eden Advance had been safely asleep in their own modest corners of the Bio-Dome structure by the time she'd snuck out, recovering from the scare with the Grendler and marshalling their strength for tomorrow's efforts at tracking Dell Curry through the cold. The Martins had retired to their tent, and Magus had bravely gone out to resume her guard shift, but Julia's hyper-diagnostic mind had already established the speaker based on the way he'd whispered her name alone.
"Mmmmhere," she mumbled, clearing her throat, sounding drunken. She'd been suffering the symptoms both rhinopharyngitis and influenza for the last few days, and had noticed that Cameron and Yale seemed to be coming down with colds as well. With so much recycled air spewing through the weathered ducts of the Bio-Dome's close quarters, she anticipated that the rest of the group would sniffling by the end of the week.
Alonzo didn't stand a chance.
At the very least, it would explain why their resident midnight mechanic was hissing from outside of her tent. If there was something to be caught, John Danziger would find a way to catch it.
"Are ya…y'know, decent? Is 'Lonz with you?"
She rubbed her eyes, wishing he'd just come in already and tell her what he needed. Despite being a bit accident prone, Danziger had been hale and hearty for almost a month now.
Julia figured that records were made to be broken.
"I'm alone, John. Just get in here, would you?"
She had no valid reason for the niggling unease his innocent question caused her, but a part of her had hoped Alonzo would've come looking for her by now. The bulk of her still found the familiarity of the Med Tent far more comforting than the latent heat that flooded the interior ecosystem serving as their temporary home. Julia's heart wished that it was enough to be snuggled in his arms, oblivious, but like so many other battles fought, her rational mind prevailed. Like so many other nights, she would spend this one with her slides.
Unless someone came to talk her out of it.
Not that anyone was getting much rest since Dell's transmission had hijacked their dreams, least of all Danziger. In fact, Julia doubted he'd slept since True had stormed into the meeting room last night, welcoming her father back from his night watch with her
startling news.
Judging from True's distraught reaction to their earlier discovery of Dell's identity, it was obvious that John hadn't spoken to her about it.
The members of Eden Advance had each drawn their own maternal parallels, victims of wistful insomnia, but the dream had stirred in True a powerful need for answers. It had been obvious that her father was painfully unprepared for such a task, but with virtually no knowledge of Danziger's past, the group could offer the girl nothing but empty consolation. He needed to clear the air, and Julia figured it fell to her to tell him it was time.
Of course, it really was none of her damn business.
She sighed and tried her best to consolidate the flora samples Bess and True had collected over the past few days, attempting in vain to clear a workspace. The plant life wasn't going to analyze itself, and sooner rather than later Eden Advance was going to need a supplementary source of nutrition. They had no way of knowing how long the chill would last, and so far nothing was scanning as edible.
"What can I do for you?" Julia asked as the tell-tale scrape of vinyl signaled his entrance.
Her relationships with the other members of Eden Advance had been slipping back into place, healing nicely, but even after the Geo-Lock fiasco- a veritable group effort- the doctor still felt disconnected from them in some intangible way. She had narrowed the emotion down to either unworthiness or ungratefulness, she just couldn't decide which.
Either was irrational, though both were suspect, and despite her best efforts she still greeted most Med Tent arrivals with the subconscious anxiety of a criminal awaiting his sentence.
Danziger was the exception to the rule.
She turned in time to catch sight of him tip-toeing through the flap, holding one of his enormous hands to the left side of his face.
"I'm bleedin' like a stuck pig," he grunted, stepping into the light to reveal a shocking amount of blood coating his hand the sleeve of his jacket. His crimson grip concealed some sort of scalp laceration, that much was certain, but Julia wouldn't be able to determine much more until she got him cleaned up.
John tried his best to flash a reassuring smile, stippling the earth beneath him red with a shake of his matted curls.
So much for her flu theory.
"Jesus, Danziger, how long were you standing outside?" She scolded, guiding his lurching frame to the examination cot. He didn't show any signs of a brain injury, and although he was a bit pale his respiration were even and deep.
"I just nicked it," he explained, brushing off her concern. "My Luma-Lamp went out while I was under the Rover's dash, scared me shitless."
Holding his hand firmly in place with her own, Julia's fingers slid slickly between John's as she applied extra pressure. She fished her penlight out of her pocket, shining it directly in his left eye, then his right.
"Whoa," he recoiled, "a little warning next time!"
Julia mentally kicked herself for not taking into account that the mechanic's eyes had no doubt adjusted to the new-moons darkness several hours ago. So much for First, do no harm. Hippocrates was rolling in his grave.
Despite how much she'd come to care for the people in her charge, she still struggled with the concept of bedside manner- especially when surprised by so much blood.
Alonzo teased her mercilessly about it, although it seemed evident that he expected his own, special brand of coddling that only she could provide. It was in no way medically relevant and it bothered her that he'd managed to find fault in the one thing she'd been created to do. The Council obviously hadn't seen the benefit of pandering to patients when they'd Chromo-Skewed her genetic make-up, but that didn't mean she wasn't trying.
It must have shown on her face. Julia was still getting used to that, too.
"Have ya heard the one about the blind Mechanic?" Danziger amended softly, giving her a weak grin. She did her best to ignore the involuntary tears welling in his eyes as she studied the reaction time of his pupils, satisfied there were no signs of concussion.
"Sorry," she exhaled with an apologetic smile, watching as a tear snaked a clean swathe on his smeared cheek
"Are you light headed?" She demanded politely in her usual way, "disoriented? You show no signs of cranial trauma." Delicately Julia pried her palm away from his. "Keep that pressure."
She quickly left his side to grab some supplies, tossing them to the mattress: clean towels, her Micro-Mend, and a pain block bouncing one by one as Danziger blearily waited for her to power up her Diaglove.
"Naah, it's just a scratch. I'm more pissed off than anything else," he growled, scrubbing at his eye before giving up and glowering up at her like a surly Cyclops. "It's so shankin' cold out I didn't even feel it till the blood got in my eye."
"Scalp wounds bleed," she reassured him, though he seemed so nonplused by the situation that she felt a bit silly. Granted, if Danziger could see what he looked like, he'd no doubt share her concern, so she set upon him with a basin of warm water. Carefully, she freed his glued-shut eye.
"Least I didn't ruin my heavy coat," he mused aloud, squinting as the heel of her hand grazed his lashes. Julia shook her head, holding the lid open as she rinsed his cornea with a saline dropper, gently dabbing him dry.
.
"Sure, that's what matters. Your pretty gray coat," she mumbled under her breath, loud enough for him to hear the sarcasm, as she eased his sticky grip away from the wound.
Danziger snorted with a wince as she immediately replaced it with a steril cloth. Her free hand was still trying to gingerly mop up the worst of the blood, and he stole the warm rag away from to scrub at his face without ceremony.
"Sorry I woke you up," he murmured, heaving a sigh as she injected him with a pain block. This time around Julia knew better than to ask first, and John knew better than to argue after the fact. "Looks like no one's gettin' much sleep tonight."
"I wasn't really sleeping. I was analyzing some of the local vegetation; thought I'd rest my eyes."
"Mmm Hmm," Danziger grunted noncommittally, obviously suspicious of her answer. Rather than contradict her he quietly watched Julia load the Micro-Mend with practiced ease. "Lemmie guess, nothin' scans as edible."
"Well, nothing yet," she admitted, "but I still have at least three bins filled with flora, something's bound to contain nutrients humans can tolerate."
Again he declined to answer, though his silence was rife with skepticism. Julia wondered what he was thinking.
"It's gonna get bad in a hurry, you realize that, right?" Danziger's reply finally came, so soft Julia had to strain to hear. There was no mistaking the exhaustion and fear in his hushed tone.
She knew.
Despite Danziger's eerie intuition, Julia the only member of the group who truly realized what their dwindling rations meant towards surviving a leap-winter. It was why she spent such long nights out here, staring into her Microscope until it felt like her eyes would bleed, and why she was up the next morning before first light to get a few more tests in before she succumbed to a new day's problems.
However, keeping the group healthy was her area of expertise, and John Danziger had enough to worry about without hauling the threat of starvation around with everything else.
He needed to focus on his daughter, no matter how much it pained him.
"Trust me to do my job, John," Julia requested dryly. Danziger seemed offended that she was offended. "I'll find something we can eat, I promise we'll-"
"You can't make that prom-"
"For now," she trumped him, "concentrate on getting the rover to acknowledge Dell's signal." He startled a bit, then nodded, pulling himself back from the brink of morbid reverie. Gently, Julia took her first good look at the damage.
"You'll get a lot more done if you worry about one thing at a time, you know," she chided, studying the two inch gash on his left temple, just below the hair line.
"Yeah, I guess I figured that out when I got the willies from a little blackout. I just keep thinkin' about that camp we found. There's someone out there…someone who wants this Curry woman dead, someone who's got her kid." He heaved another sigh, his voice otherwise even, as though going through list of their troubles on autopilot. "With the Grendler and all, this camp has had enough visitors for one night."
Julia cauterized the last of the bleeding and swabbed the laceration with antiseptic gel, then sanitized her hands as she pondered how best to address the real reason his stomach was in knots.
John seemed miles away from her tonight, as though he couldn't stop his thoughts from spiraling, lest he dwell on his daughter's unanswered questions. Julia wasn't sure it this was a blessing or a curse, all things considered, but the fact remained that his mind was far from easy.
"You're worse than Devon, you know…" she theorized playfully, hoping to draw him out of his funk.
Since their latest clash over the hostage situation with the Terrians- definitely the most explosive yet- the mention of the Devon Adair's name never failed to elicit a wrinkle in Danziger's brow. It was there now, despite the fact that Julia was obviously teasing.
At least she hoped he realized she was teasing.
"So she tells me," he finally joked distractedly, chewing his bottom lip as she gently applied Bio-Seal to the edge of the tear.
"That's not what I meant, Danziger," she chuckled, handing him the basin and a mirror before gathering her equipment. If his appearance shocked him, he didn't let it show.
"Yeah, I know," he grumbled, attacking at the smears on his sleeve with irritated vigor. "I know."
"Magus is on watch," she reiterated judiciously, "trust her to do her job, John." At her parroted advice, Danziger huffed to show that he was getting the point, but he wasn't happy about it. "You have enough on your plate, right now, don't you think?"
What Danziger needed was the opposite of a reality check. He needed to stop and take a deep breath; to take sometime for his family. He needed someone to remind him he wasn't alone, even if Dell's appearance had him feeling freshly abandoned.
She grabbed the last of her sterile cloths, dabbing at his gummy hair while he stubbornly fixated on his coat. She knew he was more worried about concealing evidence than he was about the fact that he looked like he'd just risen from the dead.
"There's nothin' botherin' me that shouldn't be botherin' everyone else," he responded with more than a hint of defensiveness. Julia countered his claim with patient straightforwardness.
"Don't you think you're selling us a bit short, Danziger?" She sat beside him on the cot, squatting on her calf to boost her height. Danziger knew she was on to him, that much was clear from his tight-lipped impatience as she lightly swiped at the shell of his ear.
She was trying to show mercy, hoping to remind him that he could trust her, though she was too afraid he'd forgotten to speak the words aloud. Not long ago, Danziger has taken her hands in his and saved her from herself, but it seemed Julia's closeness now was having the opposite effect.
John had all but turned to stone.
"If we learned anything from the Morganite disaster," she began again, with steady determination, "it's that everyone has a role to play here. We'll get through this together."
Julia studied his stoic profile. He huffed with irritation, but otherwise Danziger ignored her completely. She moved on to his chin and softly scoured his jaw, approximating tenderness; calculating warmth.
She wasn't sure she could heal was breaking inside of him.
"A wise man once told me that," she goaded, scouring his stubble. It appeared Danziger had done all he could with his jacket, and now he'd unconsciously wound the rag tightly around his forearm, taut enough to constrict his radial pulse. "He had a bit of a potty mouth, but he always put his trust in me."
Gently, she uncoiled the bloodstained fabric, and eventually John let it fall to the floor, anchoring his gaze to its mottled pattern. She smoothed his brow, squeezing a bit of warm water into his curls.
His jaw clenched.
"We're doing all that we can, John, but there's a problem here that only you can fix."
He seemed paralyzed, poised on the brink of fight or flight. Julia reminded herself to tread lightly, if she was going to tread at all.
"Don't," he spat, sensing her indecision, hoping to scare her off. It was his hushed vehemence that convinced her to continue.
"I won't turn a blind eye anymore," she assured him, her tone muted to match his own.
Cautiously she tilted his jaw, scrutinizing for any blotches or smears. With the erosion of gentle pressure she reshaped his mountainous posture, coaxing his head up to get inside his collar.
"I've tried to talk to her, but I don't know what to say, Danziger. No one does. Don't you think-"
"I think this shankin' dome is makin' everyone soft, that's what I think," he ground out, with enough distain to make clear that soft was a punishable crime. He met her gaze for the first time, his blue eyes blazing.
Julia called his bluff.
"And I think that you looking for any excuse not to tell your daughter about her mother."
So much for pussy-footing around.
Sometimes she just opened her mouth and the truth came out. Her emotions made absolutely no sense, it was always all or nothing, and either way she ended up with her foot in her mouth.
Julia's gut was screaming at her to apologize, but her rational mind refused to ask forgiveness for the truth. She knew John understood, and that made her feel even worse, so she opted for medicine and made swift work of six strategically placed staples.
There was no fidgeting. In fact, Danziger barely showed any indication that he'd heard her at all, except for his faltering stare; his eyelids slamming shut. She perceived a change in his breathing, a more deliberate pattern.
He was the prefect patient, now that she'd wounded him.
Julia injected him with an Immuno-Boost, despondently at a loss for a way to break his silence. Failing at one task at least she'd completed another; there wouldn't even be a trace of a scar by the time his already fretful daughter awoke in the morning.
"Boy," Danziger marveled with a coldness in his voice that couldn't quite mask the hurt beneath. "You women really got me comin' and goin,' don't ya?" He whistled softly with a weak chuckle.
"I'm sorry," Julia sputtered out, feverishly remorseful, completely surrendering rational thought. She owed him that much; she'd overstepped her bounds. "I wasn't thinking, John. Or maybe I was thinking too much, but I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"Sure, you did," he encouraged her icily, "And I mean it when I tell you that True is my daughter, and I'll tell her what she needs to know. Just like I told Bess Martin- all of two hours ago- when she climbed into my cab to stuck her nose my business."
He was strong-willed and a bit of a bully, but she'd already crossed the line. It made little sense for Julia to be swayed by his slighted dignity if the damage had already been done.
"True is my business, Danziger. I'm sorry I can't grant you the discretion that I'm sure this matter deserves, but that's just the way it's going to be from now on."
It was too hard to look at him, not when the harsh truth started to wash over him with waves of tremors. His dangerous expression was still skillfully carved and his eyes had deepened into cobalt, but he seemed delicately pale, an opalus giant. The circles under his eyes looked like bruises; like ink smeared on marble.
This was the one secret Danziger had kept for himself, the one corner of his mind that this planet hadn't ravaged, and she was taking it from him.
Purposefully gathering her equipment, Julia broke the spell, moving away to regroup, grinding the cogs, balancing out the facts and the faith.
"Bess is worried," she bit out, attempting distancing herself mentally as well. Almost immediately the standoffish detachment slipped out of gear. "We're all worried, John, for True and yourself. It's going to be a very long winter, and you're right, it's only going to get worse."
Marshalling her strength, Julia took a deep breath and turned to face him, purposefully crossing the distance until she was sitting beside him again, feeling small. She glanced at the sutures, off-handedly running a Bio-Scan before relaxing against him, following his gaze to the far wall as she rested her ungloved hand atop his own.
It was as if John hadn't stopped bleeding.
"You can make this right, Danziger." His fingers twitched once, twice, "you can find a way to talk about her."
She expected him to pull away, but if anything he sank closer. He looped his thumb over her own, pinning it down. It was an unexpected and atypical response. Julia decided that something she'd said had been right.
"So what, you want me to compose you a sonnet?" Danziger groused with the raspy remnants of denial. Glancing at her sideways, he was the spitting image of a lost Golden Retriever. "Better yet, why don't you go find Adair. She hasn't said two words to me in days, which means she's probably already gone behind my back to get her answers."
Julia honestly couldn't imagine Devon invading his privacy in such a manner, but she had noticed that that since Yale's safe return the leader and John had settled in to a disquieting cease-fire. She wasn't sure if it was passive aggression or unresolved tension, but they were definitely giving each other a wider berth.
"Well, you're right when you say its not our business. I'm not disputing that," she agreed easily, thankful that the lines of communication were opening. She eased out of her Diaglove, wishing it was just as easy to flip a switch in her brain and tune out medicine altogether. "What you choose to tell us is up to you, Danziger. Pull True aside; if you give her some answers she'll stop acting out and we'll be out of your hair."
Her blunt advice coaxed yet another stolen glance from him, and she met his eyes with a smile.
"Which you're probably going to have to wash, by the way," her fingers raked the soggy curls behind his ear.
He quirked a smile, inspecting his hands. He frowned at the garnet stains under his fingernails, contemplative.
"You make it sound simple," he finally disclosed, his brow scrunching with the bittersweet realization that maybe it actually might be.
Julia fished through the first aid kit at the foot of the bed, commandeered his left hand and spritzed it with dissolvent spray, using her tweezers to scrape under his fingernails.
"It is simple," she revealed, her thoughts coming easier with a chore to distract her. "The problem is that it isn't easy."
It was basic logic, meant to explain and absolve; to free Danziger of his diffidence. It took only a tick of his thumb for Julia to realize that in matters of the heart, John would always trade logic for instinct. She'd gotten it wrong.
"You think I'm a coward?" It wasn't a challenge or a defensive maneuver, but an honest question asked with genuine concern.
Julia sighed, switching to his right hand so he'd have no choice but to face her and hear her words.
"Danziger, categorically speaking, someone who risks their life on a bi-monthly basis is fearless, which the antithesis of being a coward."
"Yeah, but that doesn't make me brave," he challenged with a soft chuckle, testing her theory as she traced the lines of his palm "It makes me stupid. Or crazy."
"But you're neither," she opposed soundly. "You have a sound sense of reason and impressive analytical skills, ergo the analog becomes brave." He snorted, not yet convinced but obviously amused.
"You're forgettin' there's more than one way to be chicken shit," John contradicted.
She swiped at his wrist; always amazed by how her grip barely spanned half-way.
"Everyone experiences moments of cowardice," Julia explained, realizing that she'd wiped away every vestige of blood.
Something inside her told her not to let go just yet.
"I believe the term you used was normal human reaction," she teased, peeking up at him to study his response. Danziger's lopsided grin was struggling to break through. "We just have to accept that there are some things in life we'll never be prepared to do, John. Everyone has their own monster in the dark; their own private battles to be fought."
As if he already understood what Julia was trying to tell him, Danziger gave the slightest nod and took her hand tightly in his own.
"And when encounter such challenges," she continued unerringly, "we have to trust in our friends to insist that we face them."
"Yeah…" he exhaled, his thumb worrying her palm, his eyes unfocused and stormy.
"True needs her mother," she encouraged benignly. "She's getting to be of an age where she's going to need her just as much she needs you."
Julia pressed her cheek to his bicep, a gesture of silent apology. She felt Danziger nod.
"The only way you're going to be able to give True enough of yourself is by letting it go, John." She straightened up guiltily as she gave him the medicine, his forearm offering solid resistance when she attempted to pull her hand from his grasp.
It was just as well, she was almost done.
"Pass the torch to her, she's old enough now that she won't judge you unfairly."
Julia couldn't pretend to know the circumstances that led to Danziger's single parenthood, nor did she think it would particularly help matters if she did. But John's reluctance in any matter regarding True's well-being spoke volumes as to how much he was suffering. Even if he had been somehow to blame, Julia knew that True would find a way to understand.
"True knows how much you loved her mom, nothing you could possibly say will change that."
Taking her words to heart, Danziger sat quietly for a moment, contemplating his options. Finally he sighed, leaning in to rest his head tiredly against her own, soaking up her courage.
Julia smiled a bit, giving his thumb a squeeze, wondering if there was a person alive with whom he'd ever shared his story; someone to offer solace to the man inside the father.
She seem him look to True, she'd seen father and daughter sit by the fire in just this pose, such a small girl bolstering him along with strong shoulders and ten-year-old promises.
Maybe it was enough for Danziger to know that Julia acknowledged the gravity of what was being asked of him.
She hoped it could be; it all she had to offer him.
"She looked nothing like Dell," John whispered, his breath stirring her hair. The sound of him was hard to bear, though Julia wasn't sure whether it was the physical effort it took him to say that much or the wounded confusion in his mystified tone.
The task at hand was clear to him now, just as clear as his own exhaustion was evident to his physician.
"Go to bed, Danziger, before your head starts pounding," she cautioned as she untangled her hand. This time he released her with a sheepish grin.
Leaning up to examine his rapidly forming scar, she cradled his head in her hands until he met her gaze and she could see that he was okay. "Go be warm and sleep for a few hours, and tomorrow you can sort it out while you finish the reprogramming the 'Rover, okay?"
"Yeah," he mumbled again, searching her expression as he struggled for polysyllabic answer.
"Everything will seem clearer in the morning," Julia assured him, absently stroking his jaw before retiring to her worktable, affording him a bit of privacy to collect himself. She sniffled, mostly from her congestion, as she set about making heads or tails of the hastily strewn flora samples.
"You sound like you got that flu bug Cameron was gripin' about," Danziger commented, back from wherever his mind had been wandering.
It wasn't what she'd expected, and Julia took her a moment to absorb his words. She cast him an indulgent grin.
"I'm afraid so," she confirmed, shrugging her shoulders, "we can grow horses out of tin cans but we can't cure the common cold. Such is life on G889."
He huffed a small laugh, making one final inspection of his sleeve before he went to face his daughter.
"Maybe you should head for bed yourself," Danziger suggested timidly. "Y'know, infect Alonzo, make it a couples thing." Despite the weakness of his tone, his sense of humor had returned. It seemed like weeks since he'd cracked a decent joke.
"It sounds good in theory," Julia agreed, shuffling her slides, searching for the specimen with which she'd left off, "but you're forgetting what a pain in the ass he is when he's under the weather."
She finally got the response she was after, the deep chuckle that told her Danziger was back on track.
"Thanks, Doc," he rumbled from just behind her, clamping an appreciative hand on her shoulder.
"For what?" She asked distractedly, focusing her microscope, her mind already searching for other solutions to other problems.
"For making it easy," he disclosed softly, massaging her neck for a moment before pulling away.
"You're welcome, John," she whispered, fighting the urge to watch him go.
"Hey, there you are!"
Julia jumped, turning to see Alonzo straightening up by the entrance, tousled from sleep and grinning as always at the sight of her.
"Hey, man, that's a doozie," he greeted Danziger easily, gesturing towards the lump on the mechanic's hairline. Alonzo seemed tickled but not quite surprised to find him in the Med Tent again. John clapped him on the back with a nod and an uncomfortable smile.
"Yeah, well, duty calls," he feinted, beating a hasty retreat. He paused at the exit, turning back to bid his farewells with an impish smirk with a covert wink in Julia's direction.
"You'd better get her to bed, 'Lonz," he half-teased, "just toss her over your shoulder, show her who's boss."
"Goodnight, Danziger," Julia deadpanned, thankfully hidden nose-deep in her molecular scanner.
"Wish I could, Danz, but you do realize I'm powerless against her, right?" Alonzo joked, plopping onto the cot and spreading out lazily.
"Damn straight," Danziger agreed sardonically, "I'm pretty sure we all are."
Alonzo chuckled, trusting and affable as he reached over to rest a hand on the doctor's thigh. Julia jumped again, smiling uneasily although she didn't look up from her work. If he sensed something was amiss he didn't show it, though to Julia the tent seemed over-crowded, cloying, though she couldn't grasp why.
Just when she'd finally surmised that Danziger had gone on his way, his tongue-in-cheek parting words traveled the short distance to where she sat, pregnant with hidden meaning.
"You should try plantin' one on her," John suggested wryly, lifting the flap with the crinkle of vinyl. "Usually works for me."
It was a private joke, a secret confession, and a male-bonding ritual all rolled into one.
Impressive.
By the time Julia recovered enough to face him, Danziger was already gone, and she was left with a handsome pilot who seemed eager to catch her cold.