JP Lt. Cmdr. Teller, Lt. Garcia, Lt. Quen and Ensign Alieth - Concussion and Gummy Bears

[Ben Garcia]

((OOC:- Following the Tal Shiar's failed attack on Admiral Turner's yacht, several of the crew's wounded arrive at sickbay before the senior staff briefing. Originally posted as separate sims, I really like how the characters weave together, organically interacting. This is a retrospective JP with several sims stitched together, so the character perspective shifts from one to the other. Massive salute of respect to @Alieth @Quen Deena @Geoffrey Teller))

((IC:- Embassy Sickbay, immediately post extraction from Talsion Forest shuttle crash site.))

Deena pushed her upper and lower molars against each other. She couldn’t see the tricorder screen as the nurse adjusted the placement of the clunky, blinking machine attached to her right ankle. He paused for a moment and looked over at her, clearly annoyed to no end. It was a hairline fracture, all right - he’d told her as much before giving her a dose of terakine and starting to set the bone.

Rumbolt: Ya need to stay off it, Doc. Osteoregeneration’s gonna take-

Quen: -one hour, I know.

Deena sat up to fiddle with the controls for the protective forcefield the osteoregenerator created. If she could get it set high enough, she could actually use her right foot to walk. That was, until Rumbolt swatted her hand away.

Rumbolt: oO The worst patients - every time! Oo  Hey - cut it out.

Quen: Ethan - I’ve been hopping around a forest working with a broken ankle for the past, oh I don’t know… two hours, say? I’ll be just fine using the mobility settings.

There was, perhaps, a bit more snark than necessary in that remark. He gave up with a tired look and made a small note on the PADD with her chart. 

Rumbolt: Don’t fight me, Doc. I’m not in the mood.

Deena waited until he moved away, then immediately adjusted the field to allow her to walk on her damaged leg. She slid off the biobed and gingerly tested her handiwork. The height difference was awkward, but workable. This would be far easier wearing boots. Trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible, Deena strolled across the room to the replicator.

Quen: oO One boot - no way I’m getting anything but a sock over this thing. Eh - might as well just get in uniform while I’m at it. Oo

Bundle of replicated clothing in hand, she ducked behind a screen to change as another argument unfolded nearby.

Alieth: If you persist in moving disorderly, the treatment will take longer than expected.

Ben looked at the doctor and forced a smile as he nodded. The Vulcan's voice was conveniently neutral, though the admonition was clear in her utterance. Puss wept through the epidermis and trickled down the side of Ben’s shin. Flecks of burnt skin dropped to the floor as new cells wove together, expunging the old under the pulsing beam of the dermal-regenerator. Ben gripped the bio-bed’s side-rail. The new skin shone a raw, irritable red. Ben exhaled through gritted teeth. A beading of sweat mottled Ben’s hairline.

Garcia: :: Through gritted teeth. :: Itches like they’re still on fire. 

Ben’s torso seized and tensed as he strained not to scratch at the healing skin; Ben’s knuckles tightened white as he held his grip on the bed’s side rail. 

Alieth: That means you are healing adequately. You should cherish that sensation, Lieutenant. :: The Vulcan kept working on Garcia's upper left thigh. Overall, the skin looked normal and healthy, quite different from the burnt and oozing mess that the human had initially arrived at sickbay with. :: The skin will be tender for a few days, I recommend that you avoid any strenuous activity until the internal tissues have fully healed.

Garcia: :: Ben fought hard to keep a tone of warmth in his voice. :: Got it Doc. :: Ben inhaled a hissed breath. :: There’ll be plenty of bed rest once we’ve got the CMO back from the Romulans.

Alieth pursed her lips minutely by way of answer, but she refrained from arguing more with the senior officer, instead she turned to the adjacent trolley to resume the treatment. On the trolley, a grey tub was packed with a silky white cream. Poking out the top was a spatula. 

Alieth: I will apply a layer of dermaline gel. I think you will find its effects comforting, sir.

Garcia: Ready. :: Nodding heavily. :: Go for it.

The cream enveloped the regenerated skin in a cool calming balm. Ben’s hands relaxed and held on loosely to the side rails. 

Groggy and disoriented, Geoff Teller awoke to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling.  Consciousness and memory returned slowly as he tried, and failed, to lift his head.  Somewhere nearby, voices caught his attention but he couldn't make them out.  

Garcia: :: Laughing in relief. :: Could’ve smeared the cream on first Doc.

Alieth: :: Raising an eyebrow. :: But in that case the treatment would have been inefficient.

Ben looked at the Doctor with a confused smile.

With Ben’s treatment nearly complete, Alieth opened one of the trolley's drawers and pulled out a small tray she had replicated minutes earlier. Over it were placed the caricatured figures of a powerful terran predator from the Ursidae family dyed in five bright colours.

Alieth: :: Offering the gummy bears to Garcia. :: I have been informed that humans found the consumption of sucrose after a medical treatment to be highly comforting. I recommend the red one, it is the most commonly chosen. :: Tilting the head to one side. :: It is also the one I find most palatable.

Garcia: :: Ben pursed his lips with a smile and then spoke. :: High praise. :: Ben shrugged. :: Red it is, Doc.

Ben raised an eyebrow at the doc: Alieth’s bedside manner was … distinct. Ben sat up and pulled his legs to his chest. The cream had extinguished the itching. Now, apart from the red raw patches, and the singed hairs, the skin was fully restored. Ben collapsed back onto the bed, his muscles relaxing for the first time since the attack on his shuttle in which the helm conduit blew, charring his legs in the ensuing fire.

Having seen that Ben was well attended to, Deena looked over at Teller. She hadn’t seen Teller since he’d gone in for surgery. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully for now, though a glance over the PADD slotted at the end of his bed told her that it was more likely a combination of strong analgesics and residual anesthetic. Lights on the osteoregenerators immobilizing his arm and ribs indicated that the bones were around fifty percent healed. A good, strong start to be certain, but still a ways to go. 

Not wanting to step on the new doctor’s toes, Deena waited until Alieth had moved off to approach and check in on her friend, Ben. She leaned casually against the neighboring biobed as she watched him visibly relax for the first time since he’d come across her in the forest. Ben opened his eyes to find a familiar face obstructing the glare of the ceiling lamps.

Quen: :: Playfully. :: So - is red the best flavor?

Garcia: Hmmm. :: Ben pointed with his chin. :: Need to distract the Doc and test the others … :: Ben’s eyes narrowed. :: Make an informed judgement.

Quen: How you feeling?

Ben stretched his legs out. The red raw skin shone under the strip lighting. 

Garcia: :: Playfully. :: Like a … :: Ben smiled. :: smooth lobster … ? 

Quen: :: Smiling back. :: I wanted to say thank you. For helping me out back there-

Before Ben could reply, a faint voice bled through the conversation. It was Teller, and his call tugged on Deena and Alieth’s Hippocratic strings; the two doctors made straight for the recuperating First Officer.   

Looking down, Teller could see his uniform had been removed and much of his shoulder and arm was covered in dermaplast trauma pads, and his arm itself was immobilized, small blinking devices sitting every few centimeters.  oO At least it's still there. Oo  Geoff took a deep breath and found his ribs equally restrained, but at least the pain was gone.  He could feel his faculties returning more quickly as he looked around and one thing more than any other was forcing its way to the front of his mind.  

He was absolutely furious.  He'd been shot out of the sky, had half a shuttle land on him, and then to top it all off his good friend had been taken right in front of him, and he'd been unable to do anything about it.  With gritted teeth, Teller began forcing himself to sit up.  He had to get back on duty.  

Teller:  Doctor...little help please…

Sickbay’s most severe patient was struggling to sit up, contravening all medical recommendations, not the greatest move for someone who had suffered a concussion as severe as he had. By now Deena was at Teller’s bed side.

Quen: Easy - take it slow…. Give yourself time to adjust.

Alieth returned to the conversation with a coolly neutral tone, but highly irritated words.

Alieth:  Desist from your attempts to incorporate, sir, your condition is still concerning.

Ben called over the humdrum.

Garcia:  :: Conspiratorially. :: Don’t let them keep a good man down, sir. 

Teller nodded to the man. 

Teller:  Good flying, Mr. Garcia.  Top three crash landing for me, easily.  And Doctor, I appreciate your concerns but if I'm in no immediate danger, the rest of my injuries can mend themselves on the go.   

Garcia: :: Laughing. :: Imagine if I’d taken the auto-pilot off.

Ben wasn’t helping things for Deena and Alieth, but he jested out of relief - relief he hadn’t killed the First Officer. 

Quen: You’re not in immediate danger, no - but your body needs time to heal. If you don’t give it that time, you’ll likely wind up back here with an infection or worse. And, you’re still coming off anesthesia. 

Alieth:  This is not how medicine works, sir. We have just performed a major operation on you, sir, you should at least rest for...

Turner:  =/\= ATTENTIONS ALL SENIOR STAFF MEMBERS. PLEASE MEET ME IN CONFERENCE ROOM 1 AS SOON AS YOU ARRIVE AT THE EMBASSY FOR A BRIEFING. TURNER OUT. =/\= 

Deena all but rolled her eyes. Impeccable timing, as usual. But on the one hand, a briefing couldn’t be that strenuous of an activity. That was usually reserved for the results of briefings. Teller looked to the ceiling with a raised eyebrow, then began sliding off the biobed onto unsteady legs, supporting himself with his good arm. Alieth lunged forward to grip him around the waist before he had a chance to stumble.

Teller was about to start heading to the briefing room when he realized several significant flaws in his plan.  The first was that he had no idea where Briefing Room 1 was.  The second was that he had no pants.  

The latter seemed more urgent.  

Teller:  Uh, Doc, you got a replicator around here somewhere?  Seems I'm out of uniform.  

Quen: I’ll grab you one. Speaking of- :: With a nod to Garcia’s now mostly-healed legs. :: Let me wrap those, and you can swap for an uncooked one.

Ben froze. His face paled as he held another of Doctor Alieth’s gummy bears millimeters from his mouth. Ben bit his lip, arched an eyebrow at Deena and flicked the gummy bear into his mouth. Ben held a finger against his grinning lips.

Deena started applying a fresh set of dressings to Ben’s legs as Alieth and Teller started a new argument. With her back to Ben and Deena, Alieth continued to berate the First Officer, speaking firmly as her eyebrows descended gently on her features, which gave her an even more severe aspect than usual.

Alieth: I refuse to allow you to perform such an unreasonable deed, sir.

Teller:  Look Doctor, I'm going to that briefing with or without your help.  Personally, I'd prefer, and I think the rest of the crew would agree, that I show up in uniform and under proper medical supervision.  

He met eyes with their young Vulcan Doctor and did not blink.  He had felt useless when the Romulans had snatched Addison, and he felt useless lying on his back on a comfortable biobed as the crew was called to action.  On some level, Teller was entirely aware that he was nearly dead on his feet, but a potent mix of modern medical science and raw anger had given him a second wind.  He intended to make the most of it while it lasted.  The Doctors expression did not change from the level impassive slate her people were famous for, but Teller saw a small shift around the edge of her eyes.  

The Vulcan held Teller's gaze for a few long seconds. Technically speaking, the situation unfolding was decidedly Not Funny Not Funny At All. Maybe it was the pain meds kicking in, but Deena found the argument between a completely logical Vulcan doctor and a human man hell-bent on getting out of here one way or another undeniably hilarious.

Alieth: :: Gently but firmly leading the commander to the nearest replicator. :: Agreed, but I will keep you under close supervision, sir.

Deena looked to Ben with a raise of her eyebrows. Watching the battle of wills play out was far, far more interesting than playing mediator. Ben tilted his head at Deena. A smile crept across Ben’s face as Alieth continued to chastise the First Officer. 

Alieth: I am going to abstain from supplying you with a sugary treat, sir. You are clearly a troublemaker.

Teller pursed his lips for a moment, genuinely chastened.  He'd been irritating Doctors since the earliest days of his career but he'd never been admonished for it in quite the same way.  After a moment, he barked out a genuine laugh.  Geoff could already tell the young woman had the makings of a fine officer - fierce but compassionate.  Stern but flexible.  Dry sense of humor.  When Doctor MacKenzie returned, Teller was confident she'd find a very capable addition to her staff.  

Ben caught a laugh from escaping and looked at Deena, mouthing “troublemaker” with a cheeky smile. 

Deena gnawed the inside of her cheek and shook her head as she finished with the dressings and bit back another laugh. The Vulcan deposited a uniform on the stretcher next to the commander with more force than necessary, which resulted in a muffled tuff sound. Almost under the lintel, Alieth stopped, forcing the commander to halt with her.

Alieth: Instructions on how to reach Conference Room One would be appreciated. 

This time, Deena couldn’t hide how humorous she found the image, and let out a laugh.

Quen: Hang on, we’re coming with you!

Teller: The more the merrier, Doctor Quen. :: He winced as he pulled on his new uniform, draping the tunic over his upper body with his working arm. ::  Besides, no one can accuse me of being irresponsible with my health when I've got both of you with me.  Speaking of...just how far is this walk?  And are the suns still beating down out there?  

Quen: It’s a bit of a hike - across the grounds in the main building. Are you sure?

Teller:  No, but if I can't do this then I'm no good to anybody right now and I'll crawl back into that biobed voluntarily. :: He took a deep breath and steeled himself. :: I have to do this, Doctor.

Ben caught Alieth’s eye. The Vulcan glanced him back, her features unfazed and stately, yet the young Vulcan radiated a sense of exasperation in all directions. With a pleadinging shrug, Ben spoke:

Garcia: Better we get him there under supervision, eh Doc? :: Ben stood and patted down his fresh dressings. :: I’ll help. 

Deena grabbed a hypospray pre-loaded with a variety of analgesics and pocketed it.

Quen: Just in case. If anyone needs it, say something.

Teller:  Thank you Doctor, but for the moment I'll pass.  

Garcia: :: Ben’s brows creased. He looked over his shoulder at the silver tray of gummy bears.. ::  Sure, I’ll bring the rest of these. 

Alieth tilted her head slightly to draw the pilot's attention to the dangers of too many sweets in the diet, but she didn't have time to compose the sentence, as she was too busy trying to prevent that the commander's endeavours might aggravate his state.

Ben turned a half step and pocketed the remaining gummy bears as he filed into line with the patient convoy.

With gritted teeth, Teller slipped his frozen arm through his uniform sleeve.  It was an awkward effort and the various bandages and devices connected to him didn't sit comfortably, but for now it would have to do.  His comm badge, pitted and scuffed, sat on the table opposite his biobed.  Comm badges were tough to break, and the casing was meant to survive extreme conditions without suffering cosmetic damage, but his looked like it had been through hell.  At the moment, that seemed entirely appropriate to Teller, and he slapped it back onto his uniform with a grim scowl.  

Teller:  Alright, become I come to my senses - lets go.  Don't want to keep the Admiral waiting.  

End.

===============================
Lieutenant Commander Geoffrey Teller
Executive Officer
Duronis II Embassy & Support Flotilla
Rear Admiral Turner, T. Commanding
V239509GT0

&

Lieutenant Ben Garcia
Second Officer/HCO
Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607
Author ID number: G239102MR0

&

Lieutenant Quen Deena
Medical Officer
Duronis II Embassy/USS Thor
E239602QD0

&

Ensign Alieth
Medical Officer
Embassy Duronis II - USS Thor NCC-82607  
Author ID number:  E239702A10