Luna Chronicles: Head Injuries

'It could have been worse' she spoke it in an unbroken mantra in her head, 'It could have been worse'. Shifting her hand slightly she mumbled an apology to Jim as he hissed in pain. "Sorry, sorry...". He waved her off with a grin. She went back to her work, the cut was merely preliminary. Far less gruesome than the superficial coating of drying blood implied. She shook her head slightly, chuckling internally as she remembered what happened.

...

"I might too." She pulled her coat tighter around her, she was more coat that woman at this point. It was overly large. Black and military, with a high collar. She was nervous, flying had never sat well with her and this was habit from childhood. The feel of taught material against her knuckles reassuring. Thrumming engines sent vibrations through the shuttle, rattling her harness. In her peripheral she saw Leonards knuckles whiten against the flask he was holding. In this moment she couldn't fathom why two people afraid of flying would volunteer to send themselves careening through space on a starship. Taking a shaky breath she looked over to Jim, vaguely aware he'd been attempting to distract them both. Regaling them with his night. Apparently he'd been flirting with the cadet opposite, said cadet snorted in disgust, apparently the flirting left something to be desired. Luna felt the rare tug of a smile, his pick up lines definitely left something to be desired. His night ending in a brawl and a signature to Starfleet. Wild night, god her mind could be sarcastic.

"Why did you sign up?" It hung in the air between the three for moments as she struggled to find her voice. Fate interceded though.

Watery vomit, smelling distinctly of Tennessee Whiskey sloshed against the seats and boots of the cadets too slow to avoid it. Jim had launched himself away from the liquid missile in what would of been a ten out of ten swan dive had it not been for the harness...or the steel support frame. The symphony of sickly disgust had turned into a cursing solo, curtsy of Jim. Seconds after the blood started flowing, a red rivulet cleaving his forehead in two.

"I feel like my brain is bruised." She couldn't help herself, it was all too funny. Jims armature dramatics, Leonard constant apologies and the best part of all the utter disgust and shock plastered on the face of the cadet opposite. It was a modern day sitcom. The laughter bubbled in her throat, it was unfamiliar with disuse but she couldn't stop it and found she didn't want to when two baritones joined her.

The glares that had been directed at the tri were nothing more or less than deadly and that made it all the more hilarious.

...

She glanced at Leonard as she passed him the regenerator. He'd cleaned up, rugged clothes replaced by some spare scrubs. She glanced down at her own clothing. Jeans splattered by rusty blood, and a smattering of congealing puke that stained the fabric a bile yellow.

"Can you finish up, just the pain killer..." He nodded and vaguely gestured to where he had found the scrubs. As she slid the door to the locker room shut she was followed by the indignant yelp of Jim.

"OW!"

The space little more than closet with three tall lockers, one for the nurse and another the doctor on duty and the final containing the scrubs. Slipping of the coat she grabbed one blanking her reflection in the mirror. Short sleeves, not ideal, but she would cope. She removed the rest of her clothing methodically as she slipped the blue polyester over her form. It caught against the ruts of scar tissue, crinkling as she pulled it on.

The two of them were a right pair. Jim Kirk, she had learnt, was a drama queen. Moaning throughout the remaining flight that his brains were falling out, and other nonsense about his precious face. Leonard, on the other hand, had fallen into a grump after the initial apologise, opting instead to tell how to treat Jim like she didn't know what she'd been doing. It had taken 5 snarky comments before she'd threatened bodily harm and violently explained that she hadn't suffered through 7 years of medical school to not know what she was doing. He only grumbled then but quickly fell silent at her glare.

She could definitely see them being friends. Besides if being thrown up on and bled on while fearing for you life flying in a bucket of bolts didn't make a friendship, what did?

Brushing her hair from her eyes she walked back into the hanger medical bay.

"-Bones." Bones? what did he mean bones?.

"What about bones? I don't think you hit your head hard enough to break anything Jim" She looked between the two men.

"It's his nickname." For a second she just stared, alternating between a triumphant looking Jim Kirk and a Leonard McCoy who looked as though he'd swallowed something wriggling and spikey, with an eyebrow raised and arms crossed in distaste. She couldn't contain it. It started as a smile, bubbled into barely contained laughter then full blown, doubled over guffawing. She could hardly see through her tears. Deep rich chuckles, the undertones of sunny afternoons, warmth of whiskey, the crackle of disuse, harmonized with her laughter, tones weaving together. Kirk glanced between the two of them with his own childish guffawing.

"Glad to see we're all having fun." She straightened instantly. "Cadet Kirk, at least you're relatively cleaned up." She watched as Pike glanced at the blood still staining his civilian clothes. "McCoy, Kirk your room assignments." He handed them each a PADD. "Now if you're done I have things to discuss with cadet Peters." She watched as they both glanced her way as they shuffled out the door.

"Is this a dad or a Captain moment." Her voice was still lilted from laughing.

"Can't I be both." He smiled at her, arms beckoning. Smiling she moved towards him. "You made it princess, Starfleet. I'm proud of you." Pride coated his tenor as he stared at the young woman in his arms. Pulling back from their hug she lent against the biobed Kirk had vacated moments earlier. "So Jim Kirk, huh? He's a good kid, just...just be careful."

She sighed, "I will dad, I know."

He ruffled her hair and handed her a PADD, "Here's your dorm, you're on your own this year. The board thought it would be best to bring you in gently. Here's your panic button, press it and the nearest commander will respond along with a medical officer...just in case." She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue, recalling the conversation where she had insisted no special treatment. She wasn't made of porcelain. It was bad enough that she had to undergo the psyche test when they found out about her history, now this. They were determined to remind her that she was an emotion time bomb. Steeling herself she forced a grateful smile across her lips. Think about something funny, think about something funny.

"Thank you."

"Well snap to it cadet, I will come check on you later." She watched as he walked away from her sighing, it sounded pitiful to her own ears. She fondled the panic button. It was small, inconspicuous and had a handy clip on for her ID card. It looked like a charm, something that nobody would ever suspect of being what it was. the design was of typical Starfleet origin, smooth and sleek. A frosted metal circlet surrounding a deep red indented button that looked like some sort of fake gem. Red. The colour just screamed panic. Sighing again she dropped it into one of the deep pockets of the scrubs, pushing away from the bio-bed.

Life moves on and so would she. Grabbing the clothing that were salvageable, she binned the rest and made her way to her new dorm.

Bathed in the golden light of afternoon the campus was beautiful. Buildings echoing 21st Century architecture hemming in a park full of maples and rock fountains. Students milled about enjoying the last of their freedom while they could. She walked slowly, the breezy air picking at her scrubs, head down scanning the campus map on her new PADD-

"Ow..." rubbing her nose she stiffed at the contact of steadying hands.

"Sorry, I...Luna?" It was Leonard, just Leonard. His hands were gripping her upper arms, fingers digging lightly into the muscle. She pushed against him instinctively and he dropped her like he'd been burnt. "Sorry."

Panicked grey eyes met concerned hazel as she backed from him with a stumble.

"Sorry I've got to...go." Turning, she left him there looking confused as she rushed in the direction of the girls barracks.

...

She felt like a fool, she'd panicked, she'd panicked and made herself looks as insane as she felt on the inside. As soon as her foot breached the threshold of her dorm she had swiftly moved to the bathroom crouching in the shower, washing away the memories that the unexpected touch had opened. The scrubs clung like a second skin, the feeling anchoring her as her mind raced. She hadn't had an attack like that for months. She'd sworn herself black and blue that she'd never have one again. But it was something, something about Leonard that was forcing her mind to relive it. He was nothing like ... him, and yet her mind was forcing her to relive through comparisons. His hands were cold, damp with sweat and grime, clammy with sweat, sticky with alcohol, rough manacles than clamped against soft skin till it bruised and puckered between thick fingers. Leonards were warm, calloused farm hands, gentle, steady, feather light, reassuring. They were not the same, so why was this happening. She curled further in on herself, the shower long gone cold, rivulets of water cascading from her hair into her eyes, running down her face like the tears she had no energy for anymore. She was being ridiculous. Leonard was nice, a possible friend, and she'd just as soon as jeopardise that as give it a chance.

"Water off."

Stepping from the shower she stared at the woman in the mirror. Bedraggled and pale she looked like a drowned sickly vampire. An uncontrollable urge made her bare her teeth at her self in the mirror. GRRR. Yep she was crazy, mental, broken beyond repair. Running round chasing the tail of her past self. Shaking her head at herself she listened to the droplets as they splashed against the tiling. She would need to apologise. Or she could just hope that they wouldn't bump into each other, no definitely needed to apologise. Resigning herself to her ridiculously complicated fate she dried herself off and moved into her room. It was large, two beds and two desks with a fabricator in the far corner and a window that turned into a holoscreen. When she had rushed in minutes earlier she knocked her suitcase o the floor and it laid at a haphazard angle against the bed.

A yawn bubbled up through her chest as the persistent flash of her PADD glared into the room. Snatching it from the place it had taken up on he floor she took note of the message. Admiral Archer. She was wondering when he'd want to see her. No time like the present she supposed. Steeling herself she walked towards the door, catching her reflection. Second thoughts she better get changed. Who knew that scrubs went see through when they got that wet?

Note: Second chapter finished, if you spot any mistakes I'd be grateful if you tell me.

17/07/14

Charlotte