A/N: Welcome back! This chapter includes more Dillan-won't-take-care of herself nonsense.
TW: body horror, and what could be considered self harm (it happens right right at the start, fam: be warned)
Chapter 17: Forcible Recovery
"Would you—stop picking at that!" Bones grabbed Dillan's wrist and wrenched it away from her.
She looked up at him, an incredulous expression seething through her one uncovered eye. Flakes of skin graft drifted from her forearm onto the bedsheets.
"What?" She spat, shoving him away.
"What?" He laughed. "Excuse me—what?!" He pulled his chair right up to her bed. "I said we'd remove the rest of your skin grafts in a couple days, and now I come across you peeling them off like an orange?!"
Dillan threw her arms up, subconsciously noticing the lack of restraints—two days since those had come off. "That's what I've been trying to explain to you—they come off easy: there's no sense in waiting around all this time."
Before Bones could stop her, she placed her hand over her elbow, pinched the end of a skin graft, and pulled it halfway down her forearm.
Teeth gritted, she said, "See? Totally.. normal."
Bones crossed his arms. "So you're telling me that what you're doing doesn't hurt in the slightest?"
Dillan groaned. "There's just a few pieces left on this arm, and without being connected to the rest of me—" From the biobed, she gestured up and down her body, "—they serve no purpose. They just look like what they are: blotchy patches of fake skin on my stupid, dumb, arm!" She went to grab another piece.
Bones leapt up and grabbed her arms again. "Alright, that's enough. Can you not see the expression on your face—oh wait, I can, and that's enough, because I'm your goddamn doctor!"
He stepped away from her, breathing heavily.
Dillan let her hands rest in the air for a moment before dropping them back in her lap.
Bones swore under his breath. He'd overstepped a boundary—a physical one at that. The thing to do now would be to relive himself from her care—pass it on to someone else.
"You don't have to do everything on your own anymore," Bones muttered. Dillan kept her gaze trained on the end of her bed.
He sighed, then gathered his things—including a noticeable amount of sharp objects—and left her alone.
Dillan hadn't spoken to Kirk in what felt like months, so it came as a surprise when he walked into medbay.
He walked up to her biobed, not a joke to be found.
Dillan attempted a smile. "Where's Spock?" She'd been expecting him to show up with his rule-orientated attitude.
Crossing his arms, Kirk stopped at the end of her bed. "It isn't his job to reprimand you—as much as he's prepared to."
Dillan resisted the urge to pull at her skin grafts. Kirk's eyes fixated on hers, never straying down to the metal shining through her arm and shoulder.
"I heard you got away with some shit at the Academy," she said.
Smirking, Kirk dipped his chin towards his chest. "The thing is," he said. "I knew when I was in over my head."
A beat passed, then they both burst out laughing.
"I can't believe that for a second!" Dillan said.
Kirk shook his head. "Okay, fine, you're right to think that."
Dillan nodded. "Yep."
She smiled easily, as if completely unfazed by nearly dying just a few days prior. Kirk knew of others who hadn't recovered so quickly. Bones, for instance, after being on-call for two straight weeks following Kahn's crash-landing in San Francisco.
"So…" he said. "I know what it feels like to think you know what you're doing, and to have no one believe in you."
Dillan shook her head, her one uncovered eye rolling in disbelief. "There are just too many rules here. It's like they're trying to work against me getting things done."
Kirk smiled wryly, knowing his two minutes were nearly up. "It can definitely feel like that sometimes… especially when you're supposed to be in charge."
"Hm," Dillan said, completely oblivious to his insinuation.
Kirk clapped his hands together, signalling his intent to leave. When he turned to go, Dillan looked up.
"That's it?" It wasn't as bad as she'd expected.
"For me? Yeah." Kirk glanced out the entrance he'd come through. "But you're not off the hook just yet. There's someone else coming for you," he said. "He specifically asked for permission to yell at you—and it's not who you're thinking of," he added when Dillan shrunk back in fear.
The entrance to the medbay slid open, admitting a very angry, extremely red-faced, chief engineer.
Dillan paled, looking rapidly between the Captain and her direct superior.
Kirk gave her a jaunty wave, smirk plastered all over his face, then stepped aside to let Scotty through.
Scotty paced back and forth for a full thirty seconds before Dillan blurted out, "Just say something!"
The red died in his face and he collapsed into the chair next to her bed.
Afraid he was about to pass out, Dillan threw her covers back and scooted to the edge of her bed.
Scotty looked up from his hands. His gaze only made it to the start of her right foot before shirking away.
"You're in a lot of trouble, lassie," he said quietly, his voice level, but not entirely calm.
Dillan didn't know if responding with a 'yes, sir' was appropriate, so she stayed silent.
"I… I understand why you would try and pull something like this. But I cannot fathom why you wouldn't come to me first. So, just… why?" He wiped a hand across his tired face. He met her gaze, and suddenly, Dillan couldn't think of an excuse anymore.
"I had an opportunity," she said. "So I took it."
"We were managingthe situation."
Dillan tilted her head back, groaning. "We were limping to the nearest starbase—and none of them are exactly close."
Scotty shook his head at her. "The ship could have taken it. You just need to trust her."
"I trust what I'm capable of, not machines."
He scoffed. "You're part machine."
"That's not the same thing," Dillan said quietly.
Scotty tilted his head up to the ceiling, a silent prayer forming on his lips.
"I made a mistake, alright?" Dillan said. "But no one got hurt, so I don't see what the fuss is all about-"
"-No one?!" Scotty cried. His eyes widened. "That bloody mistake nearly cost you your life!"
Dillan crossed her arms. "Fine. No one else. If I'd just been a bit more careful—"
Scotty got up, flinging his arms in the air. "Except you weren't careful! You went into a restricted, volatile, low-oxygen area, alone—no note! No backup! -You didn't tell anyone! Who knows how long you could've been left in there!"
"In and out," Dillan muttered, curling back up in her biobed. "No one would have even known."
Scotty pointed at her. "That's not the point and you know it."
Dillan huffed, rolling her eyes.
Scotty's ears turned red. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, missy!"
"So what, Dad," Dillan spat, "Are you gonna lock me in my room?" Her original accent came through, twisting her words into something harsh and foul.
"If it gets you out of this funk, then I might just do that!" Scotty waved his hand. He took a deep breath, scratching at the hair on the back of his neck.
He sat down again, glancing at Dillan when she shifted away from him.
Something new came over his voice. When he spoke next, Dillan got a strange sense that he'd been in this situation before.
"You don't even understand…" He sighed. A pained look crossed his features, just withheld enough so that Dillan didn't properly notice what it was.
"We don't let people risk themselves like that. Not- not when it can be avoided."
He put his hand over his mouth. Dillan looked away, letting him get a hold of his emotions without her watching.
"I-" she began, but paused when he sniffed loudly. "Alright then. What can I do to help?"
Scotty laughed. "You? Help? Nothing."
Bones re-entered medbay just as Scotty scoffed, "You're suspended for three weeks, lassie, and-" he looked to Bones for confirmation, "I suspect the majority of it will be spent in here."
Bones nodded, eyebrows furrowing closer together.
"Three-" Dillan blurted, prepared to burst out in a series of complaints. She stopped herself before she said something else she'd regret, instead, crossing her arms and sinking further into her bed. "Oh my gosh…"
"Yes," Scotty said, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Gosh, indeed. So, get ready for some serious…" he paused to think, "…Bed… rest…" He gave Bones a 'help me' look.
Bones looked at him, both refusing to make eye contact with Dillan.
"Uh, yeah," he said. "You've got a couple days of burn therapy ahead of you. So, uh, prepare to do… nothing… as punishment." He gave Scotty a defeated look. Was this really the best they could come up with? Technically, she'd been doing her job—though also disobeying a direct order, so…
"Excellent," Scotty said to a still-fuming Dillan.
He stormed out of medbay, leaving Bones to deal with their delusional, hero-complex of a patient.
The burn therapy was only meant to clean up any spots harmed on her human skin. But as the procedure progressed, the medical staff found cause to do the same with Dillan's skin grafts.
The bits left over would either have to be soldered back on to the metal plating, or be removed entirely.
To Dillan, it came as a surprise to see her metal sides when she woke up. Not, per say, because of the look of it (though she had to admit, being bald would take some getting used to), but rather the fact that they'd gone with her idea.
"Oh, don't be so smug about it," Bones said as he set down her meal tray. He watched her run her left hand along her right arm, then looked away as she reached inside her hospital gown to press it to the cool surface of her chest.
Alright, so maybe some of the surprise was due to the appearance.
Bones was tempted to take a seat and talk her through it as best she could.
Gripping it between her forefinger and her thumb, Dillan slowly twisted her right index finger around 180 degrees. They both stared at it with a mixture of wonder and fear. Bones left her tray there and went to do some reading to decompress what he'd just seen. He was seriously reconsidering whether he was qualified enough for this kind of case.
"I'm surprised you didn't visit earlier," Dillan said. "My other superiors have already had their words." She set her padd down on her lap and straightened her spine. "What took you so long?"
Spock mirrored her posture, only he was standing, hands placed behind his back. He nodded, speaking in his usual slow, measured tone.
"I thought it best if I took more time to gather my thoughts before speaking with you," he said. "Mr. Scott's assessment, while accurate, lacked a certain… dignity."
Dillan leaned back, a smile making its way across her face. "So what I'm hearing is that you're not here to release me from my suspension."
"Your hearing is exemplary, as always."
Dillan snorted. "Just not good enough to keep me from getting myself killed."
Spock tilted his head. "That may have more to do with your affinity for rule-breaking."
"Bending," she said. "And last I checked," she lifted her arms from her sides, "I hadn't broken anything, so we're alright on that front." She settled back into her bed, closing her eyes.
Spock raised an eyebrow, then brought his padd in front of him. He flicked upwards across the screen.
The alert sound of a doc arriving in Dillan's inbox came from the padd on her lap. She picked it up and held it above her head.
"The damage report says otherwise," Spock said as she scanned the document.
She bit her lip, a sure sign that she'd reached the total at the bottom.
"The new damages require us to return for repairs at an expedited rate," Spock said. "We will arrive at Somerdale within the month, but that has not stopped the Federation from assigning us an additional stop on our way back."
"Oh?" Dillan crossed her arms, still eyeing the amount at the bottom of the page. "Do tell?"
"We are making a short detour to a planetoid named Quintus," Spock explained. "An automatic supply vessel crashed there; we will retrieve what we can from it and move on to Somerdale."
"Why'd it crash?" Dillan asked. Some malfunction in the autopilot was what she immediately suspected. A lapse in activity just long enough for it to be pulled in by the planetoid's gravitational field.
"That is unknown as of now," Spock said.
"Is the planetoid inhabited?"
"No. It's barely capable of sustaining human life." Even while she was bed ridden, Spock could see how she tensed ay the prospect of a mission.
"And what supplies is so important that they feel compelled to send their best to retrieve it—despite the getaway vehicle being in need of repairs?" A self-gratifying look crossed Dillan's face. It didn't suit her.
"It was meant for a nearby colony," Spock said. "But they already have a replacement on the way. Luckily, we can use most of what's there to help sustain us until we reach Somerdale."
Dillan looked away. Of course: everything came back to her mistake.
"You will still be suspended by the time we reach Quintus," he said. The corner of his mouth quirked up when her posture deflated.
"I was only asking…" she said. They both knew she hadn't.
She glanced back down at the padd, wincing ad the frustratingly-long string of numbers at the bottom of the screen.
Dillan swallowed the lump growing in her throat. "Do I- Do I have to pay all that?"
Spock waited until the looked up, her eyes shrinking in fear.
"No," he said finally. "The Federation deals with its own damage costs—even in cases like this."
Dillan exhaled a sigh of relief, tossing her padd to the end of her bed. "What was all that for then?"
"I was appealing to your more practical nature," he said. "As a lack of regard for our own lives in the light of helping others seems to be a trait we share."
Dillan blinked. "Was that meant to be a compliment, or…?"
"There are people aboard this ship who care deeply for you," Spock said. "In the future, I suggest making a greater effort to preserve your own life—at least for their sakes."
Spock looked behind him at the sound of footsteps. They predated their owner's arrival by several seconds, but he already knew who they belonged to. After all, he'd asked him to come here himself.
Dillan shrank back, face going red as Pavel ran into medbay. She pulled her blankets up to her chin, wishing she could bring them over her face as well. But then she wouldn't be able to see him—him, flustered and out of breath from running over here. Him, hardly recognizing Spock as he ran past him to her bedside, taking her human hand in his and interlocking their fingers and whispering, promising a dozen things she didn't have the lucidity to comprehend.
Pavel didn't let go of Dillan's hand until Bones ordered him to step aside so he could take a blood sample.
While Dillan looked away as the hypo slid under her skin, he took a moment to see her as she truly was.
The right side of her body was made of metal, he could see that clearly now.
The fake skin had been scorched off, leaving nothing but the silver and red metallic sheen behind.
Where Dillan's right cheekbone was—if there even was one there anymore—the skin gave way to a chasm about one centimetre deep. This line ran from the back of her head, up and around to her face, and down to her chin and neck, disappearing at her collarbone underneath her hospital gown.
He'd be lying if he said it didn't freak him out a little.
"There we are," Bones said, retracting the hypo from her arm. "You can breathe now."
Dillan exhaled loudly. "If you weren't a doctor I'd think you were draining me dry." She looked up, caught Pavel staring, and grimaced.
Once Bones stepped back, Pavel returned to Dillan's bedside. She took his hand in hers, and they both looked to Bones.
"Aah, shit," he said. "Not this again."
"I'll be fine," Dillan said, nodding her head in Pavel's direction. "Do you think there's anyone else willing to take better care of me? No offence, Doctor…"
Bones put the hypo into a sterile transport container, then crossed his arms. "I know you want out, but we aren't discharging you yet."
"I'll stay in our room!" Dillan exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Pavel leaned back, a blush spreading across his face. Our room?
"It's basically the same as where I am now," she continued. "Either I'm stuck in bed here—or I'm stuck in bed there—and don't bring up the bio-monitoring argument again." She pointed to Pavel."
"Uh, yes, I transferred the OS of her bed to, um, ours back at the room," he said quietly. Ours? He liked the sound of that.
Bones put a hand over his eyes. "Of course. The two whiz kids end up together…"
"Bones-" Dillan started.
"And we haven't even discussed the skin graft replacements you'll need," he said. "If you move this'll turn into a logistical nightmare—it's completely impractical."
"Bones," Dillan said.
"-Not to mention your suspension and future surgeries, which means we'll have to open up a whole new sector of—"
"Bones!" Dillan shouted. Pavel jumped back.
She immediately regretted raising her voice. Dillan doubled over in bed, coughing, holding one finger up to tell him she wasn't finished.
Once she could breathe again, Dillan let out a rattling exhale.
"I'm not getting new skin grafts," she said slowly. "I don't want them."
"What?" Pavel said, at the same time Bones said "Why?"
Dillan shook her head. She patted Pavel's arm. "It's alright, there's nothing you can do. You're human, so what had to be done to replace my old skin in the first place is likely far beyond anything your machines are capable of here."
"How flattering," Bones said. "You almost turned into Spock for a minute there."
"There must be a way," Pavel said. "You don't want to spend the rest of your-" He stopped when Dillan's face fell, realizing his misstep.
Bones winced as she took her hand out of his grasp.
"I- I didn't mean…"
"I know what you meant," she said. "I can't imagine what it must be like to see me like this, but believe me, this?" She gestured to the metal parts of her face, "Was a drastic improvement over what was left of me at the time. The skin grafts you have for me won't be the same," she said quietly. She swallowed, blinking back a memory that had taken years to even partially suppress.
"Why?" Bones asked.
"They were made specifically for my body," Dillan said. "In, uh, heh, ways that you would deem… very unethical. I can still feel with the metal. It just becomes a little muted."
She looked to Bones. "I don't want it. You can retire whatever hair-brained plot you had for concocting half a body's-worth of skin cells to the bin." She thought back to how Beast had created her own skin grafts. From whom the stem cells had been taken.
Foolish sunflower, her mother said. Dillan looked to the bed across from her, but she'd already disappeared.
"If that's your decision…" Bones' voice trailed off as he and Pavel looked to the empty bed where she stared. "We can't force you to do it if not doing it won't kill you, but if you change your mind, I won't have you running back in here. Stuff like that… it takes time."
Dillan nodded. "I know." She let Pavel retake her hand. "Thank you, Bones."
The next day she was conditionally discharged from mandatory medical care, but Bones had her put to three more days of bed rest to let the shock sub side, and for the burns on her human side to finish healing.
He may as well have kept that going for the rest of her suspension. She wasn't authorized to work on the ship for another two weeks.
Pavel walked with her from medbay to their apartment. He talked extra loud any time the whispers surfaced. People couldn't get enough of Dillan's new look, even with them only seeing her hand and face.
Dillan rejected Bones proposal for a number of reasons. For most, she'd be able to manage with just her metal. Even after one day, she told herself that it was already getting easier to life with the dulled sense of touch on one side of her body. Anything Bones could have tried wouldn't have compared to what Beast had done for her.
Pavel brought her food and clean clothes, helping her when she let him, and backing off when she needed him to.
She wanted to repay him in some way, but found that after the walk from medbay to her (their?) room, she barely had the strength to stand.
When she asked him to stay the night, he seemed pleased.
"Are you warm enough?" He asked as she settled underneath the blankets. Dillan nodded. He'd already turned up the thermostat by several degrees.
She wasn't shivering, but as he settled in on her left, human side, Pavel had to bite back a gasp. Her metal, currently lacking in motion—and therefore heat—had turned the space beneath the sheets into an icebox.
Dillan felt him tense up. While she remained motionless, she would stay cold and dull.
Even when he switched to lie next to her metal side, she didn't have the heart to tell him she barely felt anything there.
I wanted to say a special thank you to readers MidnightPixie25 and LizRT34, both new favourites (and in MidnightPixie25's case, a follower!) of the story. It means a lot that people actually want to get updated when a new chapter gets released, so thank you!