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[BACKSIM] - Lt Commander Foster - Meltdown


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@Sal Taybrim I am unsure if I am allowed to say that I enjoyed reading his suffering, but.... yeah. Kinda did. I really enjoyed this sim, and now everyone else can, too! 



((Wyn Foster’s Quarters – StarBase 118))
(Time index – Several days earlier, during the mission)

When he had gone to bed – early, this surgery made him in bed before his grandfather.  If he even had a grandfather.  Biological that was.  His father had confirmed that all his parents and grandparents were dead and the only one who mattered was Charles anyways.  So some theoretical grandfather.

Old man.  There.  He was going to bed before old men.  Dottering old men who played chess in parks and yelled at kids to get off their holographic lawns.

When he had gone to bed he was trying to get a vague plan of what to do tomorrow.  He had limited mobility.  The vertigo wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be – judging from the last time the antennae was literally ripped out by the root and left hanging.  This was a precise and professional corrective, so maybe that was to be expected.

But standing up was a chore and brought with it an unwelcome wave of nausea.  So he didn’t get out much.  But he had enjoyed company.  Actually he craved company.  So his plan was to call Ashley and see how the counselor was healing.  Maybe they could hang out again.  It was draining because Ashley was scarred by whatever all happened and Wyn would always give from his very limited well of energy to support the other person.  What he really wanted was a family member here.  Someone who would just give him unconditional love until he fell asleep.  He didn’t ask much – just to have someone close, someone to lean on, someone to touch him and let him know he wasn’t alone.  Beyond that he slept a lot and ate sometimes and watched trash holovids.

But anyone could give him at least half of what he wanted.  He preferred to not converse to much, but to simply be.  Maybe, if he felt truly and utterly safe he might actually talk about the mess of feelings he kept bottled up inside.  But he didn’t feel safe with most people.  His Dad.  Mark.  Saveron.

That was it.  Three stinking people, and one was a sentient hologram.

He hadn’t even told Rue.  Maybe he should.  He desperately needed a family member on StarBase 118.  Someone he considered family.  Not just a friend.

But when he woke up, he had a message.  Ashley got an approved to travel to Vulcan.  He took the first ship.  He was already gone.

Wyn didn’t know why, but it felt like a betrayal.  That was stupid, he told himself.  In their conversation he had confirmed that yes, he was off duty and available, but they had never actually made plans.  He had only made silent plans in his stupid little head.  Silent plans meant nothing.  Silent plans were imaginary.  And now look where that got you?

Ashley was gone.  Fixing himself.  That was good.

Wyn stayed behind.  Alone.  He stared at the walls of his quarters and felt like he was grasping at straws.  Who else did he know on this entire huge StarBase that he trusted enough to call on a commline.  Rustyy… on the Rahuba.  Rue… on the Rahuba.  Alora…on the Rahuba.

And for a moment he cursed himself for being such an idiot.  Maybe he should know more people.  Maybe he shouldn’t have counted on Ashley being around.  Maybe he shouldn’t stay inside.

And yet his brain welled up and cursed back: Maybe you’re not worthy enough for anyone to care about…

Maybe this was what he deserved.  So many nights on the Constitution where he brushed off his crewmates games and activities to hide in his quarters fighting with the demons of the past.  Too many days hiding in his office because he hadn’t slept enough.

Foster: I’m trying OK?!  I was frakking trying to fix things! 

He screamed it at the wall.

The wall didn’t care.

The vertigo hit hard and he collapsed on his knees.

Alone.  Again.  Always alone.  This was a long road he walked, and he felt that he walked it alone for so long.  And the times that someone was with him were brief shining sunlight moments in a vast well of darkness.

Wrapping his arms around his chest he did the one thing he only did when he was truly desperate.  When all other ideas had been exhausted.  When he felt he was doing the right thing but always getting the wrong responses.

Foster: Computer… open a comm channel.  Lt. Commander Cade Foster, USS Constitution.

Computer: Lt. Commander Cade Foster is unavailable.

Foster: Page him over the comms system!

Computer: Lt Commander Cade Foster is not on the USS Constitution, StarBase 104 or within Starfleet comms range.

He growled the next words in panic and despair.

Foster: Where is he?!

Computer: I am sorry, that is classified. 

Foster: Classified my ass!

Computer: I do not recognize that command…

He swore at the computer and collapsed on his bed, exhausted from the attempt.

If he was in his right mind he might have gone to the hub.  Contacted Commodore Taybrim.  Emphasized he was looking for his Dad, asked for clearance.

He wasn’t in his right mind.

He curled up in a ball and sobbed for hours until exhaustion overtook him.

~*~
~tbc~
~*~

Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster
Head Surgeon

StarBase 118 Ops

 

 
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