Spoilers: none that I can think of
Author's Note: Okay, sorry this took so long. I was away for awhile, and then I got sick, and besides that, I have work and then volleyball three nights a week...so cope with me here. I swear, I'm writing as fast as possible! Anyway, I'm alternating stories, so up next is Salvation, and then probably the conclusion to this. So, be patient, and please review!
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Dylan is sitting on a chair in Med Deck. Trance is hovering over Beka, who's lying on a bed. There are bruises covering her face, slightly faded but still pretty bad. She doesn't look good at all, more like she's been hit by a truck which then backed up over her and then forward again.
Dylan: How is she?
Trance: (looks very upset and disturbed) Not good, but she'll live. Physically, it's just a lot of bruising, but I don't know how she's going to be emotionally. She might not wake up for a long time.
Dylan: (sighs loudly) That bad, huh?
Trance: Dylan, it wasn't your fault. Everyone thought Mr. Havanna was a nice man, even Beka. We couldn't have known...(She trails off as Dylan's expression bleakens)
Dylan: Trance, it was completely my fault. There were so many warning signs, and I completely ignored them. I was only thinking about the Commonwealth. I made a mistake, and Beka paid the price.
Trance: Beka would have left if she really wanted to.
Dylan: No she wouldn't have. It would have seemed like she was running after what she told me. No, she didn't bring this on herself. I did that for her.
Trance: Dylan-
Dylan: No, Trance. She trusted me and I let her down. Just like every other man in her life. (Beat) I'd like to be alone, now.
Trance leaves, shooting a worried look at her friend.
Dylan: Andromeda, engage privacy mode.
Andromeda (V.O.): Are you-privacy mode engaged, authorization Captain Dylan Hunt.
Dylan disappears for a moment, then comes back with a bottle of amber liquid, presumably alcoholic. He pours himself a glass.
Dylan: Here's to the road to hell.
Tosses it back, pours himself another, and stares at Beka.
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Harper is standing in the hallway, talking to Tyr, who is sitting outside a room.
Harper: Let me go talk to him!
Tyr: Talk to him, boy? Please don't tell me you believe I'm that stupid.
Harper: C'mon, just ten minutes!
Tyr: I'd be more than happy to allow you some time alone with our 'guest,' but I doubt our righteous High Guard captain would agree. And besides, boy, you'd probably end up either killing him or not even hurting him.
Harper: I've fought people before.
Tyr: Fighting and torture are two different things, Harper.
Harper: (Sighs and slides down next to Tyr) He hurt Beka.
Tyr: He did more than that, he damaged her. Life will not be easy with her for a long time.
Harper: Like it ever was.
Tyr: You have no idea, boy.
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Back in Med Deck, Dylan is face down on Beka's bed. She's awake, now, sitting and staring into space like she's trying to remember something. Dylan stirs.
Beka: (She's still very hoarse) Looks like Mr. Hangover is finally awake.
Dylan: (Groans and holds his head) Damn.
Beka: Well, that's what you get for trying to drink yourself into oblivion. That's why I never tried it. (Beat) There're some painkillers over there if I remember correctly.
Dylan: Thanks. (He gets up and takes them, then realize he's not talking to Trance) Beka, you're awake!
Beka: As ever.
Dylan: (Cautious) How are you feeling?
Beka: Like I got run over by the Andromeda Ascendant. Tell me, just what did we do last night? It must have been one hell of a party.
Dylan: (Confused) You mean, you don't remember anything?
Beka: Nope. Was Harper there? Did he get any action? Cause if everyone was as drunk as you probably were, than he probably didn't have any trouble. Did I get any action? What am I thinking, of course I did! Hello, Dylan?
Dylan: Huh? Um...Beka, hold that thought.
Beka: (muttering) And what a very pleasant though it is, too.
Dylan: (Quietly, so that Beka can't hear) Rommie, can you get Trance down here?
Shift to Dylan talking to Trance, Beka looking very bored and tired in the background. She closes her eyes as we focus on Dylan and Trance.
Trance: No, there's no brain damage. I think it's just a repressed memory.
Dylan: What?
Trance: She basically blocked the memory out. It was too painful for her mind to deal with both physically and emotionally, so it refuses to deal with it, and walls it off so she can't remember it.
Dylan: Will it stay that way?
Trance: Possibly, but not definitely. When someone has a repressed memory, it's usually triggered by some situation somewhat related to the event. The person relives the event all over again, only this time, in their mind. It's not very pleasant.
Dylan: Well, I don't think we'll have a repeat of that situation.
Trance: Oh, no, it could easily happen. The trigger doesn't have to be an exact replication; it's usually only a vague relation. The trigger could be anything from someone touching her to someone yelling at her to male abuse.
Dylan: Oh.
Trance: It may never come up, though, so don't be too careful.
Dylan: Oh.
Both turn to look at Beka, who's now sleeping peacefully.
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Author's note: Well, I'm not completely happy with this chapter; that's
why it was so short. Any suggestions, write in your review or e-mail
me at nsane1@optonline.net. Anyhoo, read and review. Oh, and
the medical stuff was just some bullshit I made up. Don't take it
too seriously. And the next part will be darker, once I get in a
dark mood, so be warned. Review!!!!!