Disclaimer: Still don't own the show or characters.
A/N: Will Yosa be alright? Here's the answer...
Just as Kathryn, Tal, and Jarvin reached the campsite they heard Tom as he said, "Let's put him over there."
Kathryn watched as Tom and Sofin eased Yosa down onto a pile of blankets while she attempted to get Celes to sit down. Celes wasn't having it though.
"Will he be alright, Captain?" Tal asked as she peered over at Yosa.
"Tom will take care of him." There was no doubt in her mind about that. Tom may not think of himself as a medic, but when it came right down to it he'd do everything possible to save a life. The question was how much Tom could do with so little supplies.
"Can I help?"
Kathryn pushed on Tal's shoulder a little more firmly and was glad when she finally sat down. "Let Jarvin take a look at your arm first." She gave the crewman standing nearby a nod and moved out of the way to go check on Yosa.
As soon as she knelt down next to Tom she could already see that there was a surplus of crimson blood soaking Yosa's undershirt and trickling down his side to the ground. He was losing too much too quickly. The wound itself looked deep and spanned over half the length of his side.
Tom was trying to use the dermal regenerator, even though they both knew it wasn't working, and wore the same focused expression as when he was fighting for control of the shuttle. Just as with the shuttle, Kathryn feared it was a losing battle.
The familiar feeling of eyes on her drew her attention from Yosa's wound to his face. Sure enough he was watching her through half-closed eyes. Only it wasn't an awkward gaze anymore. She gave him a small encouraging smile which he returned with a grimace.
"Hang in there," she said, using her uniform sleeve to dab at the moisture gathering on his forehead. "You're in good hands."
"That's not what I heard," he joked, giving Tom a light smile that ended with another grimace as the pilot gave up on the generator and tried to clean the wound with water and a piece of torn uniform.
"Hey! Watch it, Yosa," Tom took a moment to flash the injured crewman a crooked smile before turning his attention back to cleansing the wound.
Yosa chuckled softly, but it soon turned into a cough and the next thing she knew his eyes were sliding the rest of the way shut. She tensed as dread set in.
No.
No, it couldn't happen.
"Tom..."
"I'm going to need some bandages or…something..."
Kathryn looked around, but there were no bandages. No medkit. Nothing. Thinking quickly she unzipped her uniform jacket, used the small tear in her undershirt as a starting point, and tore off a couple strips to give to Tom. She watched him tear off some of his own undershirt and then started wrapping the material around the crewman's torso.
As he worked she placed two fingers to Yosa's neck, right over the pulse point. She only relaxed marginally upon feeling a faint throb against her fingers. He was alive for now. That was something at least.
"Is he going to be alright?"
Kathryn looked up to find Tal standing behind them and staring down at Yosa. She traded a look with Tom before answering, "We're going to do everything we can."
"I could use some more water," Tom said, as he finished wrapping up Yosa's injury and held up a blood stained hand.
"I'll get it." With one last glance at Yosa, Tal turned and headed over to their provisions pile. Jarvin followed, his limp more prominent now, to give her a hand.
Looking up Kathryn noticed Sofin staring blankly, but transfixed, at the wounded crewman. "Go ahead and start getting a fire stared, Sofin." He didn't move or acknowledge her in her any way. "Brian," she said a little louder in attempt to get his attention. It worked, but barely.
He looked up with a somewhat confused expression. "What?"
"Get a fire started. We don't want to get caught in the cold unprepared."
"It's still at least three hours before the sun goes down."
She simply stared at him with a look that promised immanent punishment if he didn't comply. He promptly replied with a slightly disgruntled, "Yes, ma'am," and stood to go do as he was ordered.
Once he was gone and the others still preoccupied as well she lowered her voice and addressed Tom. "How is he really?"
It'd been a long time since she'd seen Tom look so ominously serious. "It doesn't look all that great," he answered and sat back into a more comfortable position. "Without a dermal regenerator...It's too deep, Captain. And I think his lung may have been nicked. If we were on Voyager it'd be an easy fix. He might be sore for a few days, but he'd be alright. Like this though I...," he trailed off and met her eyes and it wasn't hard to see his self-induced agitation and apology. "I don't think there's much I can do."
They broke eye contact as Tal and Jarvin came back. "Here's the water," Tal said, crouching down next to Tom to pour some of the water over his stained hands.
Jarvin limped around to sit on Yosa's other side and handed the Captain the last vial of pain killers they had. "It's all that's left," he said as she accepted the medicine.
Picking up the hypo, she exchanged the empty vial for the fresh and turned the empty vial over in her hand. It'd been almost completely full three days ago when they'd crashed. Between her head, Jarvin's leg, Tal's wrist, Tom's burns and now Yosa they'd used it up.
If she hadn't let Tom give her a dose so many times...
If she'd gone to get the firewood herself...
If she'd just kept them off this planet in the first place...
"I think he's waking up!"
Tal's exclamation broke her trance and as she looked down at the crewman she saw that Yosa really was waking up. She watched as he moistened his lips, his face scrunched up in pain, before a bout of coughing racked his body. Tom reached for the hypo in her hand while she put her free hand on Yosa's shoulder comfortingly. With a soft hiss the hypo was administered and his coughing subsided as the medicine took effect and eased his pain.
When the crewman's eyes opened his gaze flickered sluggishly from one person to the next. When his stare settled on Tal and then shifted to the now material wrapped wound on her arm he cracked a crooked grin of his own. "You're supposed to jump on my back, not a wild animal's," he said, his voice raspy.
"Oops? I guess it was just too hard to tell the two of you apart."
Yosa laughed which, as was the pattern, turned into a wet sounding cough. This time a little trickle of blood colored the corner of his lips. She and Tom shared another look as his chest constricted with each labored breath.
Yosa's eyes began to droop as his breathing slowed, the sheen of moisture on his forehead becoming more pronounced against his ashen skin. In that moment Kathryn didn't need to see the others' faces to know what she'd find. There was a solemn, painful, tension filled aurora around the gathered away team.
But there was no longer any awkwardness.
It was blatantly obvious there was only one way for this to end. Death. It practically hung in the air like a shadow cast by an invisible monster. Maybe this is where those stories of space monsters came from.
"I could really go for a grilled cheese right now," Yosa breathed out, his eyes sliding shut little by little.
Kathryn smiled softly and gave his shoulder a squeeze. It didn't keep him any more coherent though. "I'll see what Neelix can do when we get back to Voyager."
"Thanks, Cap...ain."
The simple, barely audible, sentiment sent a shot of pain through her chest as if he'd stabbed her with a fiery hot knife. Her hand tightened on his shoulder and she willed him to be alright. He had to be alright.
"You always are...," Another cough tore through his throat. "Are...looking out for us."
Yet another soul shattering pain shot through her chest. With each word he was tearing down her resolve. "All part of the job description, crewman," she replied, both trying to help everyone relax with some form of normalcy while simultaneously attempting to distance herself. Maybe it would hurt less then.
From experience she knew it wouldn't.
"No. I don't think so." His eyes opened a little more and even behind the glassy film over his eyes she could see the calm wisdom that came with age. The few sparse white hairs along his temple amongst his otherwise sandy brown hair suddenly stood out more than they ever had before.
His eyes were losing focus by the second as his gaze once more traveled over those assembled around him, almost as if he were trying to memorize each and every one of them. "Make sure Neelix knows...," he took a shuddering breath, his voice weakening along with his body. "It wasn't his cooking that did it."
From somewhere in the group Tal let out a semi-laugh that sounded suspiciously wet.
Kathryn's hand on his shoulder tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Sofin stood and walked away.
And with a last shuddering breath Yosa's eyes slid shut for the last time.