Bedside Manner (Day 2 - Morning)

Waking up was just like a hangover, nausea included. The first sign anyone in the medbay had that the deckhand was awake were the dry heaves that came from her throat as she hung over the far edge of the bed, body turned onto the side and showing exactly why Serena had said Elle would need a robe. They were rough and real, enough to make anyone without a good hold on their stomach want to sympathy hurl but fortunately the medication Lyen and Adler had pumped into her, along with her empty belly, prevented a mess. Just a thick string of drool that stubbornly stayed put until Elle wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Elle hung onto the rail, head bowed, and waited until the worst of the nausea passed. Pressed between two loading barges, at least that’s what it felt like, the pressure in her head hurt more than the tender swelling on the back of it. The plain girl’s fingers searched the side of the bed, looking for the lever that would let the rail lower so she could get out. “I need my clothes.”

“What?” Dorian asked as he offered a cup of water from which stood a bendable straw. “And give up this fashionable hospital gown? Here, Miss Elle, take a few sips. Allow tha watah tah roll about in yah mouth fah a moment before swallowin’.” After handing the cup to his patient, the medic elevated her into a reclined sitting position. “We’ll get yah outta here shortly,” he promised. “But first, Ah want tah see how yah doin’.”

The first sip made her mouth taste sharp and chemically, like she’d been given something she couldn’t remember. Elle swished it around and spat it on the deck off to the side, hands tight on the rails like she was in a storm and about to crawl up a city sized wave. Adler’s sensible hands and movement of the bed convinced Elle to sit back and take the next sip, sips, like he’d ordered. When her head touched the back of the bed she winced and made sure it didn’t contact the pillow again.

A bear, a stuffed bear, was nestled between her calves, fallen onto its side when she’d moved. Elle stared at its stupid dead eyes then flexed one leg, sending it tumbling in soft bounces across the deck.

Adler surveyed the overhead screen. Elle’s vitals had remained rock steady all night long. Lyen spent the night observing the neural readings. Though she reported the occasional spikes and lulls in the wave output which might indicate unconsciousness, his assistant was also careful to note just when the pattern had shifted to more normal REM sleep. Elle had gotten a good five hours’ worth of the needed rest. “Ah don’t see any swellin’ in tha brainpan,” he remarked as Bart Jr. found a new perch on a counter, next to the Denta-Kiln-Twenty-Five-Hundred. “Pardon me while Ah check tha back of yah head.”

“I’m fine,” she said, moving her head away from his hands. Elle wasn’t dumb enough to push him away, the Doc was fancy folk and you just didn’t go layin’ hands on them without cause. “It just hurts. I want my clothes and then I’m leaving,” she stated firmly. How exactly that was going to play out wasn’t clear; Elle felt as weak as a sun stunned turtle and just about as heavy and uncoordinated. The knock to her head had done a number on her sea legs but given a little railing and some guts Elle reckoned she could sail a straight enough tack to get out of the med bay. After that - after that was after that and not worth worrying about.

The doc nodded agreeably. “Ah’m certain yah right,” he offered, pausing to meet the woman’s eye. “But yah’ve suffered a concussion, Miss Elle, strong enough tah have yah carried in here unconscious. Now, all this fancy equipment is tellin’ me a story, but tha brain is much more complex than that. So, Ah’d be grateful if yah’d permit me tah ask yah few questions an’ inspect yah head wounds once more?”

“Who brung me in?” Elle still held her body back away from the Doc and raised a hand, palm out, to keep him from getting closer.

“Vas Jat,” Dorian replied, crossing his arms. “Would yah prefer if Ah brought Sistah Lyen back tah do this?”

“Prefer you don’t waste no more time on me and let me have my clothes,” she said, voice a little thick and almost a slur. It just seemed hard to put words in her mouth, probably” the medicine they’d given her. “He say anything?” Elle asked the question but quietly and only after looking around to see if anyone else was in the room. Her eyes stayed on the door once they proved alone.

He shook his head. “Not til Ah’m satisfied with yah progress. What’s yah name? First and last?”

“Elle Schippkotte.” She turned her head and briefly closed her eyes to push back a wave of dizziness. Okay, don’t do that again. “He say anything?” she asked again.

Dorian nodded. “Just what Ah needed tah know,” he said. “What’s tha name of this boat?”

“He. Say. Any. Thing.” she asked, enunciating each word and her jaw set.

“Told me how he found yah.” Adler fixed her with a direct stare. “What is tha name of this boat?”

Elle didn’t know quid pro quo from squid but the Doc’s stare intimidated her like it was meant to. She dropped her eyes as she gave the answer. “Lunar Veil.” So, Vas brought her in and got to tell everyone what happened. Convenient that. She took a deep breath then moved her body forward and bent her head to let his fingers poke and prod.

The doc set to work, his gloved fingers gently touching the knot on the back of the girl’s head. “Swellin’s down,” he observed. “Before Ah discharge yah, Ah’ll give a anothah dose of an anti inflammatory. Aftah that, cold packs should do tha trick. So, aside from tha nausea Ah saw, any othah discomfort this mornin’? Dizziness? Visual issues? Yah can rest yah head, now.”

Little jerks accompanied each touch and the way the muscles in her temple jerked showed Elle was clenching her jaws tight to stifle cries of pain. Under her fingers the sheets, already rumpled from the time she’d spent on them, gained new wrinkles. When he let go she stayed stiff and took a deep breath before giving up her hold on the bed. Briefly she thought about blowing his questions off but the Doc had already proven he wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Yes. I feel like I’m in rough seas and don’t have my legs under me. I’ll manage. And it’s bright in here,” she complained to speak about the visual issues he’d asked after. “Be fine. Can I have them pills and get goin’? Don’t want Va - don’t want him thinking I’m malingerin’.”

"You'll do as Doc says. If not cuz it's the smart thing to do then on account of my say so." Vas voice said from the doorway.

He had been doing his normal round and unable to not act like a mother hen in regards to what he considered his and his own in spite of how they treated him … he always found reason to check in on her. When he had heard talk he politely took a seat outside next to the door. The only indication he was there was the slight drift of smoke from a black clove cigarette.

The monitor Lyen had connected her to made a strident beep. Flashing a square around Elle’s pulse and respiration it showed a sudden spike in both. The room dragged at her eyes as she turned her head, walls wanting to hang onto the edge of her sight then spinning back past it when her head stopped. Elle swallowed back the acid in her throat, lying to herself and saying it was all from the vertigo and not the sound of the Crew Chief’s voice. Her hand touched her hip. Adjusting her gown? Or reaching for the knife that had hung there since she was a little girl?

“Y-” voice stuck in her throat she swallowed, hating the bitter taste in it. “Yes, Chief,” barely loud enough to reach his ears.

And like that, all of the patient’s vitals took a leap. “Hold on,” Dorian said as his eyes flicked from one reading to the next, and then to Elle’s face as it drained of color. “Let’s lie flat fah a moment,” the medic said as the bed lowered to it’s table configuration. Fearing the onset of shock, Dorian elevated the foot by a few inches. *The moment Vas spoke,* he mused as he worked to calm the girl. *The moment Vas….*

“We’re havin’ a moment here,” Dorian said to the crew chief. “Ah need tha room.” With no further comment, the medic slid the infirmary door shut, isolating the patient. “Miss Elle,” he said as he rifled the pharmacy cabinet, “We’re alone now. Ah’m gettin’ yah somethin ‘ fah that vertigo. Just lie still, with yah eyes closed.”

Where before she’d have leaned away from him, Elle leaned towards Adler and, most telling, away from where Vas sat outside the medical bay. Smoke coiled across the edge of the closed hatch like hatred and Elle couldn’t keep her eyes off of the menace of it. When Dorian started to leave her hand, work strong and unrelenting, grabbed his wrist. “I - I- will -” she stopped but kept her hand manacle tight. “You need to let me go back to work,” she said, voice low so it wouldn’t carry outside the med bay. “Please.”

“Only place yah goin’ aftah we’re finished is yah bunk,” Dorin gently pried his hand free. He returned a moment later with two tablets. “Cochlezene,” he said as he offered both, followed by water. “Vertigo’s not such a concern. Two blows tah tha head can dislodge tha particles in yah innah ear that assist with balance an’ motion perception. This’ll calm tha symptoms.” He waited in silence as she downed the medicine, before taking the cap once more. “Miss Elle,” Dorian ventured, “yah had quite a physical reaction when Vas spoke. What was that all about?”

Could she palm the pills or keep them under her tongue and spit them out? Elle wasn’t sure what they were but didn’t want to be sleepy no matter what Vas said in front of other people. Wasn’t a mistake either that he was right there when she woke up to remind her now was it? Doc wasn’t having it though so she swallowed the pills.

“Nothing. Just a pain,” she lied without meeting Dorian’s eyes. “Had worse, got better. Doc, I can work. I need to work,” she insisted, loudly enough for Vas to hear outside if he was still listening.

Adler lowered the room lighting to half level. “Al right, Miss Elle. We’re gonna give those pills a few minutes tah work. Then, Ah’m gonna reassess yah condition. What Ah want yah tah do now is rest. Close yah eyes, an’ lie still. Ah’ll be right outside that door...an’ back in just a minute.”

Elle started to get up the moment he left but a burbling chirp from the machine reminded her she was wired. The woman didn’t quite understand how it worked but knew it’d scream again if she got too excited. Slow and smooth like sliding up on a sleeping whale. Deep breaths and easy movements, all done with an eye on the machine, saw Elle sitting up and her legs dangling without setting it off. Dizziness hit like the kick of some triple distilled shine and she had to shut her eyes while it passed. Every second was costing her getting out of here.

“Mistah Vas.” Dorian gestured for the crew chief to take a few steps from the medbay door with him. “She’s got a concussion,” the medic reported. “Improved a bit this mornin’, but she’s presentin’ symptoms. Ah’m orderin’ her tah her bunk fah tha day, with a fresh evaluation before duty tomorrah mornin’.”

Vas looked up from his data pad when the Doc finally approached, crushing the remnants of the cig he smoked to death before standing to get Doc’s report. Vas nodded getting the full run down. “Arrit, well, if she’s clear to work tomorrow just tell her to report in then.” Vas said. There wasn't much to it. Elle got hurt, looked back, Doc agreed and thus so did Vas. The young punk stood there awkwardly for a moment. “So I’ll just … get myself back to work.” He decided.

“Figure out who did this?” Dorian asked.

Vas paused for a moment and shook his head looking down. “No. Not yet at least.” Vas said, stamping down his anger. “We have alotta folk on board and cargo involved in some booze war. But’s is a small boat and seven more days in the black we’ll find whoever did it.” He assured Doc.

Adler’s head inclined toward the medbay door. “She hasn’t said anythin’,” he offered. “Ah’ve asked, and she’s evaded.” He made a turn for the door. “Ah’ll keep yah up on anythin’ Ah learn.”

Vas nodded. “She took a hellova hit, give her some time, we can press her tomorrow.” Crew first. Everything else could wait.

There was no sign of her clothes, only a robe and that stupid bear that had Pigtails written all over it. Elle knew she didn’t have much time. There, that’d do. It wasn’t much, one of the funny hammers what they hit you in the knee with and made it jerk but it had a tapered point on the handle and the head’d fit in her palm like a punch dagger. Elle forced herself to move like a freeze heavy sea at the edge of the Circle. Breathing heavily but slow she fought the dizziness and was back in the bed, the hammer tucked under her pillow and no sign she’d been out except for sweat on her face and neck. The plain faced woman closed her eyes and listened for the Doc to come back.

Dorian returned, sliding the door shut behind him. “How we feelin...oh,” he remarked at the sheen of perspiration on her face. “A bit clammy...very possibly a side effect. How’s yah dizziness, Miss Elle?”

“Been better,” she admitted after opening her eyes and looking to see if Vas was there. Or at least her eyes looked on either side of Adler before they closed again. “Can I get my clothes at least? This thing is neither here nor there,” she complained and tugged at the neck of the gown. “Please? You can keep my boots if’n you’re worried I’ll walk.”

The medic pursed his lips, tapping them with an index finger as he regarded the deckhand. “Soon as Ah can release yah tah yah bunk,” he replied. “Tell yah what, Miss Elle. Ah want tah take a more detailed scan. There’s a hospital Ah work with. Ah believe Ah’d like a consult with their staff neurologist.” He turned toward the cabinet that housed the infirmary’s non-surgical tools. “Ah’m gonna need tah shave two small spots on tha back of yah head fah tha sensahs. Tha spots will be small,” Dorian said as he opened a drawer. “Yah can hide ‘em undah yah…”

He paused, his hand hovering over the open drawer. A tool was missing.

The reflex hammer, Doc thought to himself. Lyen had last been in this drawer. Knowing the nun to be fastidious in her care of their equipment, Dorian ruled out carelessness. Still, he’d check the autoclave to see if she’d run a sterilization cycle during the overnight. “They’ll hide beneath yah hair,” he concluded as he lifted the shaver. “Miss Elle, kindly tilt yah head forward.”

Again the Doc wasn’t - he’d seized the hook and was drawing out line faster than she could brake it. Wouldn’t let her go to her bunk, wouldn’t let her go back to work so as not to get more on Vas’ bad side, wouldn’t let her get dressed, and sure wouldn’t answer none of her questions about what Vas had said. Kept doping her up. Coming up with reasons she had to stay and do what they said. Had even gone outside to talk to the crew chief all secret like so she couldn’t hear. Now he wanted to monkey with her head and was using really big words she couldn’t understand.

“No,” she said then made the mistake of shaking her head. That sent a nice rolling around feeling through her skull that made her want to throw up. Elle scooted back on the bed, away from Adler, and drew her knees up to her chest. “No. No more proddin’ or pokin’. Won’t have it.”

Elle set her jaw and squared her neck up like a boxer about to punch above her weight. “I know I’m a nobody to you and him but I’m somebody to me. Tell me to move cargo, I move cargo. Tell me to clean, I clean. Done being poked. I want to leave.”

“There’s tha door,” Adler pointed a casual thumb over his shoulder. “And yah can walk...but if yah do...if yah set foot outside tha infirmary without mah givin’ yah clearance? Yah won’t do a lick of work on this boat...evah again. They’ll set yah off on Silvahhold, and Ah’ll wish yah best of luck with yah healin’. ‘Cuz yah’ll need it. Concussions that go without propah treatment are many times more prone tah happen again, and again. Yah got this idea yah a nobody tah us...well, a few more untreated bops tah yah head an’ yah won’t remembah yah own name. So,” the medic turned, every aspect of his posture relaxed, but for the eyes, “here’s yah choices. Yah can either begin tah cooperate an’ allow me tah determine tha best treatment, or yah can stop wastin’ mah time an’ wobble off. Getcha mind made up,” he said with a dismissive turn. “Ah’ve got a schedule.”

Elle was beaten, it was as obvious in her eyes as was the resolve in Adler’s. Without further protest the girl turned on the bed, giving the Doc her back, freckled skin framed by the open back of the gown. A moment’s pause then she used her left hand to lift the mass of her raggedly cut hair up and away from the back of her head.

“Thank yah,” Adler noted her gesture. “Here’s why Ah’m bein’ doubly cautious.” As he spoke, he set to work with the shaver, exposing two coin sized patches of Elle’s scalp. “Aftah a night’s rest, a typical concussion doesn’t present much more than a headache an’ tenderness at tha injury site. You, howevah,” Dorian continued as he reapplied the two contact sensors, “have displayed photosensitivity...tha lights were too bright...as well as slurred speech, and vertigo...all aftah a night’s rest. Now, tha vertigo is not neurological, but it tells me that yah did take a good blow. Mah initial study didn’t show any noteworthy swellin’ or brain injury, but in light of yah continued symptoms Ah want tah see if Ah can be doin’ more than just prescribin’ rest. Yah can rest yah head, now.” His hand cradled the back of Elle’s neck as she settled her head onto the pillow.

After a few commands entered at his workstation, Dorian turned toward her once again. Just rest quiet fah a couple minutes. Scannin’ at this level takes a little longah.” As the time passed, Dorian watched the recorded progress. On the screen above Elle, a picture began to form. Her brain was illustrated in three dimensional quality that grew increasingly detailed as the scan progressed. As it concluded, the system alerted the doc with a soft chime. “All done,” he offered the girl a nod. “Allow me tah remove all tha sensors.”

Gentle as his will was strong, Doc’s hands did their best to do no harm. It could even have been nice if the circumstances were different, wildly different. A man as handsome as a big haul in the nets touching her head and laying it back in bed, well any girl would swoon over that. Only it wasn’t wildly different and it just emphasized to Elle that she didn’t have any choices left.

When she turned her head to give Doc the back of it that stupid stuffed bear was sitting on the counter next, beady plastic eyes watching her. Was it meant to make her feel better, something Serena would do in imitation of all the attention she’d been given in the medbay by nearly everyone on the ship? Or had she, or maybe Vas, put it there to remind Elle they were always watching. Always ready to -

A few strands of her hair grabbed hold of the sensor as Doc released it, a mild sting compared to what she’d been through but enough to stop her thoughts. For all he liked to talk Adler wasn’t answering the questions she really craved to have put to rest but she wasn’t about to ask him again and have to face those dangerous eyes in his calm face. Just the thought of them made her hand curl tighter around the hammer still hidden under the pillow.

The two sensors from Elle’s forehead joined the other pair in their case to await sterilization. “There are four more,” Adler said. “Just beneath yah collar bones, and just inside of yah hips. They’re like little suction cups. If yah comfortable with me reachin’ beneath yah gown, Ah can remove ‘em. Or you can.”

“I’ll get them,” she answered quickly. Careful to sit up without making the room turn, Elle reached inside the gown and removed the easy ones up high first, then searched for and found the ones on her hips, not caring if the gown moved and showed more of her skin. Still she twitched the back of the gown closed when she was done and stayed facing away from Adler. Elle dropped the sensors onto the bed beside her. “Do you think I can go to the bathroom?”

He nodded. “Of course. Ah’ll walk yah there. Kindly put this on.” The medic handed the robe, provided by Serena, over to Elle, before turning his back. “Aftah yah finish, we’ll get yah settled in a guest room fah tha night. Don’t want yah on tha laddah tah yah bunk. Ah’ve already cleared yah fah bed rest with tha crew chief.”

“This is fine,” she said and left the robe in his hands. “Rather have my own clothes but this’ll do until then.” Her left hand held the back of the gown more or less closed. No way was she taking that robe, the bear, or anything from pigtails or mohawk.

“Very well,” Dorian laid the robe aside. “Mah arm is right here if yah need it.” Adler opened the door for his patient, before escorting her toward the shower room. “Once we get yah settled, Ah’ll bring yah clothes around,” he said as the medbay entrance was closed again.

Amid the rumpled sheets and discarded pillow on the treatment table, the reflex hammer gleamed in the half light.