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Again, many many thanks to my totally amazing beta. Anything you like is probably due to her. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful person to help me with writing and everything else. Also, thank you immensely to those who have been reviewing this story and my others. It truly touches me that you actually want to read my stuff, and even more that you're willing to leave me a note about it. You guys rock!
Wrinkled lids fluttered open to reveal watery blue pools of visible fatigue. Chakotay's hand brushed against her cheek, wiping away a tear as it began to fall.
"Wha…where?" asked the patient meekly.
The captain smiled sadly. "You're at Starfleet Medical," he replied. "You're very sick. They just changed your medication; how do you feel?"
She seemed to contemplate the question deeply before she replied. "Tired," however, was her only answer.
He nodded. The next question had to be asked, though he dreaded her reply. "Do you know who I am?"
She squinted slightly, seemed confused. His heart fell. She didn't remember him…
"Chakotay," she spoke, and he sighed at the sound of his name coming from her lips. "How could I not…? You were…" Before she could finish her thought, she began to cough.
"It's okay," he told her, his hand moving to her shoulder to steady her as she regained her breath. "It's going to be all right. I'm here." Relief began to fill him as he realized her reaction to his question was because the answer seemed obvious, though the relief was quickly followed by a wash of worry as he wondered how aware she was of her current state, of the last few months, of what she'd put him through…
She attempted to reach for him but found she could not. Instantly, she began to tremble. "I can't move."
He brushed damp hair from her forehead. "I know. You're restrained."
Her eyes grew wide and another tear escaped. This time he let it fall freely. "Why?" She looked away, wanted to shrink down into the depths of the floor, but there was nowhere to go.
"You were violent," he explained, hoping that the direct approach would put her most at ease. "You hurt me."
"You hurt me!" cried the child plaintively as the adult attempted to hold her close, to keep her safe from the explosives detonating around them.
"I'm trying to keep you safe," she tried to explain.
The child raised her voice. "Help! It hurts!"
"Nisey, stop!" she whispered angrily. "You'll get us both killed."
The child squirmed, escaped. She tried to follow, rising from her hiding place and racing through the live fire. The smoke obscured the child from view, and she raised a hand to shield her eyes. Another explosion, and she knew she was hit. She fell to the ground, still looking for the little girl through the haze. As her vision swam before her, particulates invaded her lungs, causing her to cough. She looked down, saw blood…her blood. Suddenly, her stomach was in her throat, and she began to gag…
"No!" he cried as she began to gag. "Doctor!"
It continued as he waited an eternity for the medic to arrive. At long last, he was greeted by a sour face as the sound of the patient's efforts to expel the contents of her stomach tore at his heart.
He looked at the doctor, grief in his eyes. "Do something!"
The doctor frowned. "Like what?"
Chakotay felt more helpless than he had in his entire life as she continued to retch and choke. "I don't know…sedate her?"
He shook his head. "We can't mix sedatives with what she's already taken," he explained. "She's going to have to ride it out this time. I'm sorry." To the captain, the last comment didn't sound the least bit sincere. He suspected the doctor felt this patient was nothing but a burden, and longed for the time when he'd have her off his hands. He shivered, thinking of all the ways that might be likely to happen, and not liking a single one of them.
She continued to heave as tears streamed down her face. The captain squeezed her hand, attempting to reassure her, even as anger rose inside him as he watched her suffer. "She's killing herself!" he accused.
"Oh, please," answered the surly medic. "It's just a panic attack; especially in her weakened state, she'll wear herself out quickly. If she'd eaten, I'd suggest you turn her head on its side to prevent asphyxiation, but…"
"She hasn't eaten?" Chakotay asked incredulously.
"She hasn't eaten; I promise," the medic told his companion. "We are saving the rations for the other patients, especially the children. It's no use to feed her anyway when she doesn't keep anything down."
She wanted to speak, to tell them she was hungry, that she could eat…but they weren't listening. Besides, they were right; the children needed to be cared for first. She bit her lip to keep from groaning as the doctor's rough handling of her broken leg caused pain to shoot through her.
She affixed a gaze upon the doctor as he set her leg. She attempted to speak, but her throat was dry and her voice barren. With considerable effort, she ran a dehydrated tongue over her lips and forced herself to swallow harshly. Trying again, she managed to choke out one word, a question. "Nisey?"
Her only answer was a nasty glare. So the child was dead…because she failed to keep her from the blasts. She wanted to cry, but that was an indulgence she couldn't afford. After all, water was in short supply, and she wasn't the only one injured.
"We know what you did to her," spat the doctor's companion, and she cringed, cursing herself for her negligence, her failure.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"I'm sorry," the patient mumbled as Chakotay peered at her worriedly.
As she gagged again, the doctor sighed. "We haven't been able to get her to eat in days."
Chakotay blinked. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He shrugged. "You didn't ask. Now, if that's all, I do have other patients to attend to."
"Can we at least take off the restraints so she won't feel so trapped?" the captain asked desperately.
The medic looked askance at him, but slowly nodded. "It's your life," he replied. "But if she makes trouble, I'm holding you accountable…"
"That's fine," Chakotay answered quickly. "Please, undo the restraints. I'll take responsibility for her."
"Very well," was the reply as a long finger reached out to type in the code to release the patient.
As the doctor walked away, the captain reached out and pulled her torso towards him, holding her tightly while she convulsed against his chest. He felt his shirt grow damp with her tears, and his heart broke again as he heard her whisper between bouts of heaving, "I don't like being weak."
"I know," he mumbled as his own eyes began to overflow. He thanked the spirits she didn't seem to know how weak she'd been the last few months, and prayed she'd continue to be unaware as her body failed her and her mind slipped away. Finally, her retching turned to quiet sobbing, and he stroked her back as she let out her grief. As promised, she was soon exhausted, and her lids slipped closed against his shirt, her body growing limp in his arms. After a few quiet minutes, he gently laid her back down upon the biobed, then covered her with a blanket. He settled himself at her side, hoping she'd sleep peacefully for a few hours before the nightmares came.