[ La'an gives no reaction to the feeling of the hypo against her skin, not even the slightest wince at the brief spark of pain at the injection site. It's not that she doesn't feel it, of course, but that she's trained herself not to react. Outwardly, she is as still as the surface of untouched water, but inside she is a churning storm.
Especially with security types like you backing him up. Those words are carefully packed away with everything else she feels for James Tiberius Kirk, both this timeline's version and the one who no longer exists. And she's grateful when he turns the conversation in another direction, even if she's not overly pleased with the subject at hand. She can't blame him for bringing it up, though. If she were in his shoes, she'd be quoting regulation by now. ]
I know the regulations, Dr. McCoy. I'll need full medical clearance, and given my previous experience with the Gorn, Starfleet will likely require a psychological evaluation, as well.
[ Does she sound as tired as she feels? Because somehow the idea of going through such a lengthy evaluation has her feeling even more exhausted than before. With any luck, she'll be able to request Dr. Sanchez conduct the evaluation rather than a complete stranger, but even that idea is a small comfort. Sighing, she shifts the conversation again, turning them as if they were engaged in some sort of verbal waltz. ]
Well, doctor, what do you think? Can I keep the arm?
[ Yes, that is Lieutenant La'an Noonien-Singh attempting a joke with a stranger when she's covered in grime and gore. It's not a very good one and the delivery is quite flat, but there are still few among the crew who wouldn't be shocked by the event. ]
[Well, that's something, at least. She won't fight him about the regs. She sounds snippy, but mostly she sounds fucking exhausted, and given what she's been through she's earned snippy anyway.
McCoy chews on his lower lip for a moment. On the surface, it's obvious enough. She's been through hell, seen people die bloodily, been able to save some and hasn't been able to save others. Textbook. Simple.
Not good. Nowhere near good. But simple.
Except there's more to it than that, and that's one of the things he's had to learn every single year since he first got qualified and was greener than a sprig of mint sticking out of a good mint julep. Physical issues can present differently from patient to patient, depending on medical history, species, blood type, any existing issues with the endocrine system, musculoskeletal structure, yadda yadda. Psychological issues are a thousand times worse.]
Yep. Glad you're on top of that. You're probably aware already, but you can request whoever you like out of qualified staff to do your psych eval, when it's time. I'm on the qualified list. Won't be offended if you do or don't pick me.
[Might be easier to talk to someone she doesn't know. Might be easier to talk to someone she DOES know.
He snorts]
Considering you've probably lost the receipt by now, I think it's better you keep it than try to return it, sure. Just let me help you clean up, okay?
[ His offer is appreciated, even if all she does is nod her understanding of it. The idea of talking to a stranger who doesn't know her or have any preconceived notions of who she is might honestly be just as appealing as the idea of talking with someone who knows her fairly well. Given time, she'll come to have a preference for one option over the other, but at this particular moment, she finds them both unappealing. She doesn't want to talk to anyone about what she's been through, or the guilt that is gnawing away at her soul, and she certainly doesn't want to talk about how she keeps watching the ceiling with not-so-casual glances, half-expecting for a Gorn youngling to come tearing down at them.
At least he has a sense of humor to keep her thoughts otherwise occupied. She'll take every distraction she can get until she's alone and able to face the situation in private. ]
Thank you. [ And then, with incrementally more lightness to the words: ] And you're right, the receipt is long gone.
[She's twitchy, even for Security. It makes sense, after everything she's been through, being attacked from any direction at any time. He wishes he could reassure her that she's safe here, but he's not quite that stupid.]
[A quick grin at her for that]
[mock solemn] All right, then we gotta deal with what we've got in front of us. You feeling up to a shower and clean clothes? I can get one of the female nurses to be close by in case you get wobbly, but it's one of the best things I can recommend for a person after this kind of experience. Something cleansing with warm water, none of that sonic bullshit.
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no subject
Especially with security types like you backing him up. Those words are carefully packed away with everything else she feels for James Tiberius Kirk, both this timeline's version and the one who no longer exists. And she's grateful when he turns the conversation in another direction, even if she's not overly pleased with the subject at hand. She can't blame him for bringing it up, though. If she were in his shoes, she'd be quoting regulation by now. ]
I know the regulations, Dr. McCoy. I'll need full medical clearance, and given my previous experience with the Gorn, Starfleet will likely require a psychological evaluation, as well.
[ Does she sound as tired as she feels? Because somehow the idea of going through such a lengthy evaluation has her feeling even more exhausted than before. With any luck, she'll be able to request Dr. Sanchez conduct the evaluation rather than a complete stranger, but even that idea is a small comfort. Sighing, she shifts the conversation again, turning them as if they were engaged in some sort of verbal waltz. ]
Well, doctor, what do you think? Can I keep the arm?
[ Yes, that is Lieutenant La'an Noonien-Singh attempting a joke with a stranger when she's covered in grime and gore. It's not a very good one and the delivery is quite flat, but there are still few among the crew who wouldn't be shocked by the event. ]
no subject
McCoy chews on his lower lip for a moment. On the surface, it's obvious enough. She's been through hell, seen people die bloodily, been able to save some and hasn't been able to save others. Textbook. Simple.
Not good. Nowhere near good. But simple.
Except there's more to it than that, and that's one of the things he's had to learn every single year since he first got qualified and was greener than a sprig of mint sticking out of a good mint julep. Physical issues can present differently from patient to patient, depending on medical history, species, blood type, any existing issues with the endocrine system, musculoskeletal structure, yadda yadda. Psychological issues are a thousand times worse.]
Yep. Glad you're on top of that. You're probably aware already, but you can request whoever you like out of qualified staff to do your psych eval, when it's time. I'm on the qualified list. Won't be offended if you do or don't pick me.
[Might be easier to talk to someone she doesn't know. Might be easier to talk to someone she DOES know.
He snorts]
Considering you've probably lost the receipt by now, I think it's better you keep it than try to return it, sure. Just let me help you clean up, okay?
no subject
At least he has a sense of humor to keep her thoughts otherwise occupied. She'll take every distraction she can get until she's alone and able to face the situation in private. ]
Thank you. [ And then, with incrementally more lightness to the words: ] And you're right, the receipt is long gone.
no subject
[A quick grin at her for that]
[mock solemn] All right, then we gotta deal with what we've got in front of us. You feeling up to a shower and clean clothes? I can get one of the female nurses to be close by in case you get wobbly, but it's one of the best things I can recommend for a person after this kind of experience. Something cleansing with warm water, none of that sonic bullshit.