"When snatched from the jaws of death, tooth marks are to be expected."
~ Hal Story, near-death experiencer ~
A pain filled shriek echoed off the walls of the sick bay, reverberating, and ringing sharply, every eye snapped towards the gut-wrenching sound. The sight that meet their eyes was unusual in it's semi normality; a slim, tall red head was standing, mouth agape above a young strawberry blonde women. The surprised look was nothing new, but the screaming was.
"I-I-I-" He stuttered, as the woman's stunning green, grey eyes fluttered shut. The unusual aspect to the scene was that there was a bloody wound on the woman's left leg, and the boys hand was gripping said wound in a grimace inducing manor.
"You," Growled a tall brunette, "get out of my sick bay!"
"Wh-what?" stuttered the young man, eyes wide and shock filled, stunned from the noise, the blood and the anger that he was currently the center of.
"Get out!" He snarled, the raw emotion that was overflowing from his voice cause one of the weaker nerved nurses to unconsciously take a step back. The younger man stuttered in a unintelligible manor before stumbling out of the room. The doctor quickly rushed to the side of the young woman and immediately started calling out instructions to the nurses. For a moment they continued to stand, dazed by the out bust of emotion and the sudden change in the man they had all come respect. Then in a flash their reverie was broken and they rapidly moved to follow the doctors orders, rushing to and for. A flurry of action, directed at the comatose woman.
"Get me a scan of this leg," He demanded, a nurse hurriedly pushed a small device into his hand which he proceed to hover over the wound. As he did this, more blood pooled forth from the gash. He could not clear see the damage because of the shear amount of blood, that was pooling, and sopping. Already the bed that she was laying on was stained with it, and he noted that the man who carried her in was cover in it as well, the bloodied man was standing stiff, hands uselessly by his sides. The device in his hand beeped bringing his attention back to its screen.
"Damn it!" he cursed quietly under his breath, whatever caused the injury had nicked an vein, the femoral vein. If they did not act soon the girl would bleed to death. His dark hazel eyes traveled over the girl once more, noting her paleness and the alarming amount of the blood that had already been soaked up by her clothing. To act rashly could mean months of movement loss and rehabilitation yet if they did not act she would most definitely perish. The choice was obvious.
"Nurse, scissors, scalpel and stitches."
"Sir?"
"There isn't time to wheel that ungainly laser stitcher over here, or to call for a surgeon. I'll just had to do it the old fashion way" He knew that the slightest mistake would lead to either the young woman's death or crippled. Still he had to act, so he did.
Daftly slicing the frayed fabric past the wound and tugging it free, for a sickening instant it looked as if the fabric was stuck in the wound, but then it slid free. A moment after he had made the incision he hesitated. Thoughts of the consequences of his actions flooding his mind. Then to his surprise the girl's eyes fluttered open and he was captured by green-grey eyes. The colors were blended together flawlessly, one leading into the other in a way that made you question were one truly ended and began. Darkening near the pupils and becoming more radiant towards the edges. He supposed that those eyes would sparkled when she was happy and rage when her anger boiled. Dropping, shut those eyes were hidden beneath dark, thick, lashes and pale lids. This time they did not reappear, the sight strengthened his resolve and he forcefully pushed the nagging doubts away. Slicing, cleaning, clamping, sowing and then sowing again, the scar would be small round and to the right of her middle thigh. She was lucky, it was a small yet profusely bleeding cut, and was easily stitched.
Once the wound was closed and he inspected his work, her vitals were stable, heart beating regularly and breath come in routine, deep breaths. He instructed that the girl was to be moved and more anesthetic to be given. Exhausted, mental and physically, the last time he was forced to operate on an artery nick, it had not gone so well, and the memory of a pale and lifeless face kept flashing before his eyes. Walking away briskly he exited the Sick Bay and continued onward, leaving some stunned and confused nurses behind.
Their eyes were filled with emotions, yet none dare to voice their concern, instead they followed his orders. Moving the sleeping girl to a more comfortable area, gave her more medication, for the pain and to fight off any infection, and then disappeared, going about their business once again. Hardly sparing a glance at the unmoving woman.
Hours passed, together the group glides effortlessly into rhythm, easy and comforting. The doctor returned, his demeanor had returned to normal and so did the Medical bay, the nurses had already recovered and he followed quickly, routine was a healing process in a sense. Each motion was mindless, automatic, minds could be emptied while going about a routine, numb, they could become numb. The girl had caused ripples within their carefully created pond, it was alarming, exciting and curious, emotions that do not normally run together, yet in this unexpected instances they did. As the hours dragged on, one by one each person changed, those who still held within their hearts the ripple were replaced by those who had yet to be moved, challenged. As a nurse easily checks the unmoving woman's chart, she noted with a detached air that the girl shared the name with the Senior mechanic, odd she must be his sister.
"Cayden, Abrielle I wonder what her brother looks like?" she whispered, eyeing the girl, dark strawberry blonde with two distinct stripes of bright red drifting near temples, shoulder length hair tumbled around her pale face, supple, plum lips were closed, as were her eyes. Dark lush lashes brushing gently against soft slopping, high cheek bones, a slash of bangs fluttered about her cheek bones as well. Unconsciously the nurse took a step closer, drawn as if by some outside source, possibly her own unbridled spirit could sense a friend or maybe it was simply the pull of the girl. Even asleep she could stir those around her, splash and churn the waters.
"Miss, Grot is there a problem?" Demanded a deep, stirring voice behind her. She straightened swiftly, her breath caught in her throat and her brown eyes widened in surprise.
"Nothing, just leaving," She stumbled, spinning on her left heel and scampered away from the Doctor, escaping the scope of his intense, yet tired eyes. He turned eyeing the sleeping patient, wondering at the ripples that were still colliding within his breast, emotion filled memories drifting to the surface after so long. Clouded and yet clear, sharp and yet dulled by time, no one had ever caused this. If she could cause this much of a mess while sleeping, he could only imagine the destruction she would rain while awake. She stirred, mumbling, eyes shifting rapidly behind still closed lids.
"Windless mountaintop-" she twisted, hands clenching, and unclenching "deaths door step," he took a step closer, oblivious to being trapped in the strong pull, "pipe-mumble mumble- stupid white eyed, six fingered killer-" Startled, eyes thrown open, a war of green and grey, crashing, with a splash of shining gold, like coins drop in a churning and storming ocean.
"Who the heck are you?" Tilting, light, demanding and female, hazel eyes drifted to plump, pink lips.
"Hm?" Silence, his eyes traveled to her eyes again, they were filled with bafflement, one fine eyebrow was raised in question, while the other was hanging precariously close to her other eye.
"Well if this is death, then I could get use to this" She exclaimed, a small grin tugging at the edges of her lips, looking away swiftly, arms thrown in the air, shock, and disbelief radiating from unafraid eyes. The drugs, she must be having an odd psychological reaction to the drugs it was the only answer to her clear, sharp, painless eyes and her words dripping with sarcastic wit.
"No, your alive." He breathed, stunned by her strange reaction.
"Oh, well then," She began to move, sliding closer to the edge, and farther from him, "Well, I wouldn't want to trouble you, so I think I'll leave." With that she tumbled to the ground, full expecting for her legs to hold. Only they did not, instead a white, searing, lighting bolt of pain shot up her body and she collapsed onto the cold, dirty, gleamingly clean sick bay floor. A contradiction only a hospital could pull off, confusion came bubbling to the surface once more, why would she be in a hospital?
She blinked stunned, he walked unhurriedly over to stand, looking down at her.
"What do you think your doing?" He demanded in a terse voice, "Your file said you are a nurse and yet you just tried to walk on new stitches!"
"OH!" It came flooding back, rushing, pooling and lukewarm, the memories of the other ship, the freak and the battle, and who could forget the pain? It was a wonder that she had.
"I forgot." She whispered, lost within the confines of her mind. Sluggishly, the pain started again, beating and pulsing from her left leg, and her head felt like it would explode. She groaned, curling up, arms clutching at her head.
"You are probably experiencing a mild reaction to the anesthetic" He explained gentle, kneeling, sliding his arms around her knees and back. Grey eyes snapped to his face.
"Wha-" he stood and the sudden elevation change pushed the rest of her question back into her mouth, effectively stopping her question, stomach revolting distantly.
"Put me down," she gasped eyes clenched shut, her head, stomach and leg were warring for which could inflict the most discomfort and his constraining arms were far to rough. Staring at the odd creature in his arms, he was conscious of the fact that this position was not the most comfortable but she smelled like something dark, fruity and a little bit like leather it was a peculiar scent, yet thrilling. Shaking his head distractedly, glancing stiffly up at hazel eyes surrounded by dark lashes and defined cheek bones. Shuffling to the bed he gently, conscious of her injury, placed her on it.
"Now, ya mustn't try that again. Ya could pull yar stitches and I promise ya that, will not be a pleasant experience." He breathed, leaning over her, voice soft, comforting and nonintrusive the perfect balance of clinical and human, his southern accent flowing slightly.
"I know, I've pulled stitches before." She paused and then questioned, "How many?"
"How many what?"
"How many stitches do I have this time?" Understanding struck and he thought for a moment, adding.
"One for the vein that ya nicked, and twelve for the exterior, so thirteen." Her eyes widened, clearly the gash had been worse than she had originally thought.
"Oh, well I guess that makes sense, I didn't exactly have time to see where the puncture was but the pain," She trailed off, eyes down casted noting that her legs were wrapped in soft sick bay shorts, they had ridden up and she could see that the edges just brushed the top of the white, clean crisp gauze.
"Well then, Goodnight Miss Cayden. You and I are both in need of some sleep." Her eyes drifted back up, drowsiness fogged the sides, she nodded.
"Goodnight, Doctor." Turning, and walking away escaping the strange pull that surrounded the girl like a veil.
She watched the tall man walking away, brisk, full of purpose. Even though he had not introduced himself, she knew who he was, Dr. Leonard McCoy, Bones, senior medical officer and one of her superior officer's. Well this was one way to make a first impression. Shrugging, her thoughts turned inward, allowing the abyss of thoughts to come careening.
Somehow she had cheated death today, the feeling was strong nearly over powering the pain and fatigue, yet nearly impossible to describe, gratitude, excitement, fear, unpredictability, and unease crashing, flowing and spinning together in an invigorating manor. There was no way to repay, except maybe, to live, to the fullest, to the most extreme, productive and free, still there was a nagging sense of uncertainty, of mystery, and the need to hide away, to lock the door and throw away the key. Shaking her head gently, in an attempt to dislodge the troubling thoughts, a yawn blossomed from her mouth. Skin stretch tight, eyes closed and arms raised, her back cracked and she fell back eyes opening once again. Nevertheless they could not remain that way instead they began to flutter rapidly attempting to keep her hold on consciousness. Yet exhaustion took its tole and her eyes drifted close, arms glided up to cradle her face in an natural manor, her legs were pressed lightly together, separate enough not to cause pain. Sleep came silent and it was greatly needed, the healing, and comforting arms of unconscious wrapped around her pushing out the troubling thoughts and replacing them with filling, tender nonsense.
Silence reigned with the medical bay, shuffling feet would occasionally interrupt its rule, only to disappear once again, however the sleeping women was stirring, eyes shifting and breath hitching, the arms of sleep were not so kind this evening. No instead they tormented her, fear spiking and a strangled gasp leaks from her clenched jaw.
A nurse ambled into the realm of the girl, unknowingly disturbing the disquieted silence, she is tall with dark flowing hair pulled up, pale skin glimmering in the dim lighting, with dancing chocolate-colored eyes. She checked the machines monitoring the patient, however the girls struggle drew her eyes.
"I wonder what is going through your mind?" Whispering, stepping closer, taken in once again, Hannah Grot could not help her curiosity, it had always been there forcing her hand and pushing her onward even when fear and logic were screaming at her to run. This time was different not only was her natural inquisitiveness pulling her closer but so was the woman's strange draw. It was like the current of a stream, unseen, unspoken, unknown and yet guiding, directing and constant.
On an impulse Hannah gripped one of the sleepers hands, stilling instantly as if the simple contact was grounding her and driving the fear away.
"The power of touch has always confused me, because it seems that all dreamers calm down when someone is touching them." She murmurs, pulling a spare chair nearer to the bed. Her intent was just to stay for a moment, to simply soothe the women and then leave, yet she found her eyes flitting closed and her head resting on the side of the bed, near where her hand was still intertwined with Abrielle's.
Just past the sleeping woman a window stands showing the exterior that surround the Enterprise the ever dark sky glimmered with distance planets, worlds teeming with problems, happiness and beauty. Things that even the most creative minds could not think of, objects dark and frightening, items of such intense and strange splendor that the mind fainted under the weight of them. People peculiar, animals puzzling, vegetation bizarre, all just waiting for the discovering.
A.N.~This was hard to write because my muse had disappeared, school attacked, and life went crazy. But I've recaptured the Muse and the next chapters should be longer and com'en faster.
Please let me know what'cha think :D