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In all the years he had known the ambassador's daughter, Strom had never heard such emotion in her voice. He had never heard her scream.
He rushed into the laundry room upon hearing her summons, and had to restrain himself from gasping at the sight before him. Bridget cradled his superior's limp body in her arms, and she was sobbing outright, quietly pleading with Oratt to wake up.
"Ms. Forrest, what happened? What is going on?"
"Please, you have to help him!" she cried, her eyes wild with palpable fear. "His skin is clammy, but his breathing seems okay...I don't know enough about Vulcan physiology to tell you anything else, but I know this isn't okay!"
"Move aside," he commanded calmly, kneeling down by his colleague, and Bridget obeyed. Oratt's pulse was steady, but his breathing slightly labored, and his skin was far too moist and cool for what was safe.
He pulled out his medical communicator and called for backup, and two medical aides responded. He then proceeded to check Oratt for signs of responsiveness.
"Why were you alone with him?" he asked slowly, and she shook her head at him.
"He came in here and just...collapsed. I called you as soon as I could."
"You were touching him most inappropriately, Bridget."
"What did you expect me to do, doctor, sit here and twiddle my thumbs?" she shot back, ire flashing in her eyes even as more tears streaked down her face. "If I hadn't been here, he'd probably have a concussion on top of what's wrong with him."
"He would not be here if you were not here also."
"And whose fault is that?" she said, obviously still angry. "I fail to see whatever point you're trying to make, doctor. And I mean no disrespect to the rules of propriety here, but isn't it a good thing I was in the infirmary? Of all places?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but the arrival of the medical aides silenced him, and he concentrated on helping them with Oratt. They carried him into the next room, setting him gently onto a biobed as he began his scans.
"Fetch me Master Zylik," he said firmly to one of the aides ten minutes later, administering medicine so that the clamminess of Oratt's skin might right itself. The young man nodded and hurried off.
The logic master flinched upon seeing Oratt unconscious on the biobed, but set his face in grim resignation and placed his fingers meticulously on the head physician's psi points, then closed his eyes.
"He is not dying, and it seems his mind has not yet succumbed to insanity," the old man said quietly after twenty minutes. He withdrew his touch, and Oratt shifted his his sleep. "However, this is beyond my skill to heal. We must send him to Mount Seleya, to the priests there. They have much more experience in these matters than I do."
Strom sighed, but nodded to the elder. "That can be arranged. Will he be able to return once he is healed?"
"Do you think that wise, Strom of Ra'al?" Zylik replied, quirking an eyebrow. "After what he has done today? He sought out the Forrest girl despite my warnings. Did she follow the directions I gave to her? Did she follow the rules of propriety?"
Strom sighed again. "For the most part. She was slightly delayed in calling for help, it seems, but her delay, from what I can ascertain, was simply to discover the source of Oratt's distress. But she was touching him in a rather inappropriate manner."
The elder narrowed his eyes slightly. "Prepare Dr. Oratt for transportation. Where is the girl?"
He nodded towards the laundry room, and Zylik disappeared, leaving Strom to tend to his superior.
…
Tears ran cold down her face, and she gripped the side of the washing machine, the labcoats laying forgotten on the dryer. She took several deep breaths and looked towards the door, into the other room where Oratt lay, his fate still nebulous.
She only had about forty minutes before her shift was to end, and it was unlikely that Strom had any information he was willing to share with her at this time in regards to her friend's condition. She might as well hang the rest of the labcoats, and perhaps put this crises out of her mind for a few minutes.
She continued her work, her face set grimly as the minutes ticked by, every hanger making a soft little click as it hit the rack, punctuating the deafening silence that permeated the room. She continued to breathe deeply, willing herself not to cry, but despite all her efforts, many tears still streaked down her face.
Please be okay, she silently prayed. Please just be okay, Oratt. I don't know what I'd do without you.
"Ms. Forrest."
She flinched in surprise, but turned quickly to the voice at the door. Master Zylik stared her down with a cold expression, his aged face stony and harsh.
"I thought I had impressed upon you the importance of keeping your distance from Oratt," he said, taking a slow step into the room. Bridget turned to face him fully, and narrowed her eyes. "And yet here we stand. He may succumb to insanity, and only by some great stroke of fortune are you unharmed. I am disappointed, Ms. Forrest. I expected better from you."
She snorted in derision, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks again. "Oh really? What did you expect me to do, hm? 'Oh yes, Oratt, let me just fetch Dr. Strom real quick and leave you here in a room full of hard surfaces that you could fall on at any moment. You only look like you're going to keel over at any second, I'm sure you'll be fine!' Tell me, please, where the logic is in that?"
Zylik's expression hardened further. "Remember, girl, who you are speaking to. You are of Vulcan, and we do not speak in that manner to our elders."
"I am a human," she said firmly, clenching her fists. "I am not trying to be impertinent or rude, nor am I trying to break your rules. My response times are slower than that of a Vulcan, but I assure you, I called for help as soon as I could, and what's really important here is that Oratt obviously isn't well! Would you care to tell me how he's doing?" Her voice cracked. "Is he going to be okay?"
The master narrowed his eyes, staring at her for a long while before finally sighing. "For as long as I've lived in this Consulate, no one has ever acted as you have towards an unbonded man." He raised his fingers to his chin, barely touching them as he stared at some point over her shoulder. "As for your question, I believe he will survive this. But nothing is certain."
Her shoulders slumped and she cried in earnest, looking away from the logic master. Her anger over his complaints completely overrode any shame she might have felt at crying in front of him. "What's wrong with him? Do you know what's wrong?"
She couldn't make anything out from his expression, but he inhaled deeply before replying. "The same as ever, child. His mind is faltering. If he can find the will to right himself – with the proper guidance – he may yet live. But I fear your actions over the last few months will make it more difficult for him to recover. You are a distraction. The way you have approached him breaks through his veneer of logic and tempts the beast inside him. Even if he does recover, do you truly believe it wise to let him return to this planet?"
Anger surged within her, and she crossed her arms. "You think this is all my fault?"
"Not all your fault, but had you followed the rules of propriety, we might not be in this predicament."
She could think of no counter to this accusation, but simply turned away from him and closed her eyes against a new wave of tears.
"I will take my leave of you now. Remember what has happened here this day, Bridget Forrest, and consider it before you disregard our rules again."
She didn't even watch him go, but finished her task through the tears, watching through the open door as the medical aides loaded Oratt onto a stretcher, then guided him out of the infirmary, followed closely by Master Zylik. She bit her lip against another onslaught of tears, then hung the last labcoat and reluctantly reported to Dr. Strom.
"May I go now?" she asked quietly, her voice a quiet croak. He frowned at the tears on her face, and reached out, gently patting her shoulder.
"Yes, you may go. Please, do not cry, Ms. Forrest, the masters at Seleya are very well trained. Master Zylik said that Oratt was not too far gone. He may yet recover."
"Even if he does, will he ever be allowed to come back?" she said bitterly. Strom sighed.
"That remains to be seen. In the meantime, do enjoy your winter holiday. I will see you back in the new year, I hope."
She stared at the floor and gave a very quiet affirmative. "Have a good day, doctor. And thank you...for helping him. I'm sorry I caused so much trouble."
And with a rush of tears streaming down her face, she quickly left the infirmary, choosing the stairs so she might not encounter any Vulcans like she would in the turbolift. Halfway up to her family's quarters, she stopped, and slid down to the floor, her face awash in tears, and she sobbed quietly with her head in her hands for what felt like hours.
"There you are," a familiar voice said, and she felt a warm hand brush her hair out of her face. Soval's eyes gleamed with worry as he took in her tear-stained visage. "Bridget, what is the matter? I thought you'd be home half an hour ago."
Her throat closed up at the thought of everything that had happened, and her dad pressed his hand urgently to her cheek, some semblance of calm washing over her.
"They took Oratt away," she finally managed. "He came into the infirmary and just...collapsed on the floor, and he didn't say what was wrong...Master Zylik says his mind isn't gone just yet, but I don't think Oratt will be allowed back on Earth, not with everything that happened...I thought he had more time!"
Soval sighed, and stroked her hair as she continued to sob. "I am sorry, Bridget. I am sorry you had to bear witness to all this. The realities of life with unbonded Vulcan men is never easy."
She sniffled. "Master Zylik said...he said it was my fault. That Oratt wouldn't be in this mess if I had followed the rules of propriety. And I feel...I feel so awful and disgusted with myself to think that I could have prevented this from happening!"
Her father frowned and brushed her hair out of her face. "Oh, Bridget...this is not your fault. Granted, your treatment of the doctor may have exasperated his condition to some degree, but when he has been unbonded for so long, it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. The masters of Seleya are very skilled, as I have told you, and they will help Oratt regain his control." His expression grew stern. "I will not lecture you on where you went wrong in this, my daughter, at least not right now. I think, for today, you've suffered enough."
He helped her to her feet and gripped her shoulders tightly. "Breathe deeply, Bridget...all will be well, I assure you. There is no need to make yourself ill with worrying over this. It's out of our control now, so all we can do is move forward. It is the only logical thing to do."
She simply looked at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks, but she nodded and wiped her face. "Sorry for being emotional, dad, I just..."
"Do not apologize for your emotions," he said firmly, taking her gently by the arm and steering her up the stairs. "They are a part of you, natural to your species, so there is no need to apologize for this. It is completely understandable. But I must ask, as your father, to please try not to wallow too much in worry. It is not conducive to your health, and I hate to see you suffer."
That finally put a tiny smile on her face, and she gently kissed his cheek. "Thanks, dad." She sighed and wiped her face again. "Whatever happens...I'm glad I still have you."
