It'll Be Fine (yeah, right)

Posted on Sun Sep 20th, 2020 @ 2:34pm by Karen Dawson MD & Alden Loxley
Edited on on Sun Sep 20th, 2020 @ 4:42pm

Mission: The Milk Run
Location: Fortune's Echo - Port Shuttle
Timeline: Day 13 Afternoon

There had been... noises... the previous night, so Alden had left well alone until later that morning to seek out the doctor he'd once liberated from a clinic on Persephone. It was, he told himself, only because he was concerned, not due to any need for more painkillers, that he sought her out.

He'd almost convinced himself of that fact by the time he finally located Karen, her quiet shadow of a form standing in the centre of what had, up until this morning, been Jacob's shuttle.

"He left," Alden said, softly. "There was a letter for Tristan, and..." he walked to stand next to Karen and rested a supportive hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for stitching me back together, Doc," he stated, then fidgeted. "You okay?"

Dumb - no really dumb - question, but it was out there now.

"No..." Karen answered with a long stare of her eyes. They were red and teary, bloodshot and angry. The tone of her voice was distant and sad.

When she forced herself to look Alden in his eyes, her face held a haunted pain about it that went beyond just losing a patient. Noah was barely an acquaintance, so his death was not all that personal for her. No... her pain was much more complicated than just a loss of life.

"....I hate Hera," Karen confessed in an eerily docile tone.

Well, Ta Ma Duh, it had been a while since he'd seen the Doc that angry, and the sheer force of Karen's emotion hit Alden like a transport ship to the side of the head. She met his eyes with a distinct lack of comfort or desire to share, and there was a depth to this, underlying layers that definitely begged - no demanded - to be left alone.

So naturally, Alden didn't.

"Noah was my fault," he said, with zero intention of stealing any of that feminine thunder. Then he pushed on further into that human stormcloud, ignoring the warning signs, the emotional thunder and lightning. "You hating Hera because of now, or for the back then?"

"Both," Karen answered evasively, while at the same time, she fought the urge to bite back at him. The latter worked about as well as a beetle hoped birds would ignore it while swimming in their birdbath.

"Yeah... you're fault for wanting to chase treasure from buried soldiers," the doc began with fiery, passionate eyes, yet her tone held none of it. Her voice seeped in disappointment. "...So yeah. The ship getting attacked is on you. But Noah's death is on me - for trying ta run from my own demons for an hour. Because that kid died waiting on me to get to them."

Tears finally began to flow from those gorgeous blue eyes, yet she still had an angry, disappointing glare at him.

That was fair. All of it. The venom and the sadness and the blame. Alden felt it hit like yet another wave of guilt-laden pain and he let it wash over him with all its fiery glory. Because, no matter what anyone might say, it was his fault. He'd brought them here, he'd left them alone and he'd gone treasure hunting.

"Yeah," he said, a little flatly. Her disappointment hurting as much as his own conscience, because she mattered, like all his crew, Karen mattered. Noah mattered. "That's on me. I know, believe me. I know." He stepped closer, expecting to be pushed back even as he rested his hands on her shoulders and attempted to pull her closer. "But Noah's death isn't yours to carry, Karen. It's mine. Even if you'd made it back here faster, hell, even if you'd been here with him, he would still have died."

His voice skipped on that last sentence, but Alden ignored it. His feelings, his pain, they didn't count right now. "I can't take it back. I can't fix it." He said. "But I'm here, if you want to hit me, hug me or hate me. I'm here."

"I don't hate you," Karen confessed, her voice, her posture all radioed Defeat after his speech.

Alden managed to defuse much of her self-loathing by... well agreeing with her. And she wasn't sure if she liked that or felt guilty about it. What she did feel, was the need for a hug. One not alcohol-induced.

She embraced him with silent tears streaming out of her eyes, her head settled on his chest for comfort.

He'd take the not being hated as a win for now, despite the internal turmoil and heavy sense of responsibility. But what truly mattered in this moment, was looking after his crew, his friends and his family - adopted and otherwise.

"Hey, c'mere," Alden whispered, and he enveloped Karen in his arms, pulling her in close against him, his right palm cupping the back of her head, his left at her lower back. He couldn't lie and say it would all be okay, that time could be turned back or that Noah's death could be fixed. So Alden spoke words that he hoped would at least bring some comfort to their shared darkness. "You're not alone."

"I know..." Karen agreed, sniffed back a runny nose, and rubbed her irritated eyes. "...But I am responsible for Noah's suffering."

Alas, she finally spoke the thing that bugged her. Alden may have wanted to remove the responsibility of Noah's death from her shoulders. And if she were a douche, sure. Give it to him. But Noah was in shock, bleeding, and without sedation for a very long time. Being unreachable, prevented the crew from properly calling her to treat him.

Well, at the very least, she was negligent. At worst, it was malpractice. And it bugged her to know Noah essentially was tortured by their injuries until she and Jacob had returned.

He supposed she was at that. If Karen and Jacob hadn't gone off into town, Noah would have been provided with a far more instant system of medical care. Maybe. There were a whole bunch of other outcomes that could have happened too, Alden felt, but he figured dragging those all individually out into the light right now wouldn't exactly be helpful. He sighed, handed her a cloth to wipe her nose and brushed his thumb lightly beneath Karen's eyes.

"Hey," he told her, voice strong but kind. "If you'd been on the ship when it was hit, no telling what might have happened. You can't be in the right place every single time, you're only human, Mei Mei. Noah wouldn't have blamed you, and neither do the rest of us. So," Alden squeezed Karen into a tighter hug and let his face rest against her cheek as he added. "Torture yourself as much as you need in order to deal with this, but remember, you did everything you could do as soon as you were aware that you were needed. That's all anyone can do."

"...Maybe," Karen considered. "It is something I'll have to learn to live with, all the same. But should Noah's sister find out the degree of their suffering? I don't think you can protect me from her wrath."

Unless someone talked, Karen doubted that'd come to pass. Echo's crew was good about protecting each other. All the same, it was a concern to air. Hospitals had insurance to protect from malpractice suits. Karen did not.

Alden nodded. He couldn't make this right, he could only be part of the support team. "You and me both," he agreed. "And I won't tell her if you don't. Don't see the need to make things worse on that account, likely tell her a pretty lie and she's still gonna think the worst of us all." He held up his hand, index finger extended though, as he added. "Protecting you from her wrath though? That I can and will do. Always. That's what Captains are for," he confirmed, sure of that one thing at least.

"You're a good friend, too," Karen admitted with a small smile. "Maybe not the friend I want to go shopping with for shiny things... but a good friend all the same."

"Eh," Alden said, quietly. "I'm alright." He didn't feel like he'd been a great friend to Noah lately, but the diversion for treasure hadn't seemed that foolish an errand. The time here, on Hera and specifically in the Valley though, had left more than physical scars on his soul. "Being back here, seeing..." - and being thrown down into - "all these grave markers. Kinda brings it all flooding back. You, me, Noah, we all survived the war one way or another. I can't help remembering all those who didn't."

He was, he realised, supposed to be cheering Karen up. But this place, it had a habit of dragging moods downhill fast, and Alden felt a pressing need to address that fact right now. They - both of them - had demons here, demons who were currently sat heavily on their shoulders.

"I..." Karen heard her voice crack once more and stopped herself. She even had to take a step back to shake her head violently. As if to force graphic, haunting images out of her head. "...I sometimes dream of victims I treated in the POW camp, not 5 miles from Serenity Valley."

That's all she wanted to say. Usually treating certain types of burns and GSWs brought nightmares the same day of treating said patients. Those nightmares would normally persist a few weeks to a month before subsiding. But ever since they landed on Hera, Karen tried hard to build new memories with Jacob. Fun memories to keep the living nightmare of this place, from creeping up on her subconscious.

It nearly worked too, if not for Noah getting injured. It all seemed to go back to Noah.

Alden took Karen's hand in his and gave it a friendly, supportively warm squeeze. He was here, he wasn't going anywhere, and her feelings mattered, the gesture said, far better than the man himself could currently say with actual words.

"It's normal to dream about things that matter to us," Alden said. He dreamt about Anouk often, even now, six years after her death. And while he was no solitary monk, he hadn't formed any serious relationships since. "You helped people. You saved lives. You're allowed to take downtime. This... situation... it's on me. I could have just picked up the cargo, let you have your fun, and headed to Priam. I... didn't." He hadn't let go of her hand yet either.

"So what do we do now?" Karen asked with lost eyes. "Noah's death... it's changed everything."

"We look after each other," Alden told her, quietly in a low, soulful tone. "And we make sure I don't screw up that badly again." He made a miserable face and let his eyes lock with hers. "What else can I do?"

Karen... almost kissed him. But thought better of it. Maybe she was reading this all wrong, given her own emotional turmoil. The alcohol romp with Alison was clearly something she regretted because the emotions were mostly manufactured.

She did not want that to be the case here, so she took a casual step back and kissed him on the cheek.

"I guess we'll just have to wing things and hope to do better," Karen spoke after she released a relaxing exhale, to dispel some of her negative thoughts.

Alden grinned sheepishly as the Doc kissed him, but he looked happy about it, accepting what he considered to at least be forgiveness mixed with support if nothing else. "I guess we will," he agreed. "Thanks." Alden looked towards the shuttle hatch. "I'm thinking I might go sit out on the wall and throw rocks down into the valley," he said. "Wanna come with?"

Therapy came in all shapes and sizes.

"Yes... Anything is better than staying on the ship," Karen agreed too quickly. Starved for a healthy distraction.

"Kay," Alden nodded, offering his hand again. "C'mon then." He led them down to the open cargo bay, the sounds of the workers repairing the hull echoing loudly around them. He walked slowly, still obviously carrying the injuries from the day before, taking each step a little more carefully than usual.

Karen helped him walk but in a coy way. As if they were a couple, and she wanted all of his affection. When really, she let him lean on her without bruising his ego. Alden and she had faced a lot, together and apart. He was one friend she did not wish to lose.

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