dark_ages | landing party ( for thecanarylives )

landing party ( for thecanarylives )

[ He comes to with his head pounding, his vision blurred, and a persistent ringing in his ears. It takes him a while-- a good while, maybe seconds or maybe minutes, to even regain his vision properly, and to take in his surroundings. He's in a shuttle, which is completely wrecked, panels broken and burnt, wires hanging from everywhere, sparks going off and small fires here or there. They're also tilted forward slightly, so he can feel his weight pushing against the belts keeping him strapped to his chair. He looks beyond the window and he sees a lush forest just outside, trees and blue skies as far as the eye can see. It'd be pretty if not for the fact that they've clearly crashed on the planet they were supposed to land on.

Shit. Holy shit, they crashed. How the fuck did they crash? Leonard just wanted to gather some samples from the surface, it didn't even warrant a landing party bigger than two people, how the fuck did they end up like this?

That thought gets his brain into gear. Because he's not alone. He looks over to find Sara passed out, though at least thankfully still strapped to her seat. He lets out a shuddered breath, trying not to panic as he struggles to undo his own safety belt. ]

Sara!! Come on, you piece of shi-- [ His panicked grousing is cut off as his belt comes undone, and he just barely manages to brace himself against the controls rather than slam right into them. Head still spinning, he nevertheless forces himself to stumble towards her, looking her over briefly for possible injuries before he cups her face, trying to wake her up. ] Sara. Hey, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes...

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[ The fact that she's been through a lot worse does absolutely nothing to make this situation any better. The one good thing is that at least she's stuck with a doctor, and one who's not only used to these kinds of situations, so he can keep very calm under pressure, despite what most people might think.

His kit's at least well stocked, so once she's lying down, he grabs his diagnosis wrap to check the damage to her organs, see where he needs to start before he even thinks about patching her up.

The gash goes deep so he has to work from the inside and outwards. First he presses the hypospray to her side, with a dose of local anaesthetic that should at least alleviate the pain as he next grabs the autosuture and starts stitching up the damage from the inside out. ]

Sara. Stay with me, don't fall asleep. You'll be just fine, alright? They'll beam us up any moment now, I promise you.

[ They've both done this dance before. Being a security officer means she's always coming back to the med bay with a vast array of injuries, but this time they don't have the luxury of having all the ship's equipment handy. It's a novelty in itself that he actually has to stitch her up by hand.

The tension in her muscles eases slightly as the effects of the hypospray and anaesthetic start to activate, her tightness in her breath relenting just a little. ]

Mm. Not even tired. Got a whole two hours, 'member? [ Still, the blood loss is edging her very quickly towards traumatic shock. Her eyelids droop heavily, and she struggles to keep them open, already feeling the weight of it start to take hold. ]

[ At the stitching is going well. With the deepest cut done, he moves outwardly to the next, using the laser of the autosuture to make sure that he stops any bleeding on his way. He has to be steady and precise, though, or else he might cut her up even worse, and he stops every so often to check with the wrap and see if he's not causing any further damage.

The blood loss, however, might be a bit of a problem. He knows they're the same blood type, but a transfusion down here, with the limited tools he has access to, would leave a chance that she might end up getting some kind of infection. Or worse.

One problem at a time, though. For now he focuses on fixing her injury, and hope beyond hope that by the time he's done they're being beamed aboard their ship. If not, then he'll have to monitor her vitals and decide later if it might be worth it to take a risk like that. ]

[ She falls silent after a moment, all her effort focused on keeping herself awake. She's thankful as hell that he at least had the anesthesia on hand, or it's likely she might've passed out a lot earlier.

Still, the more time passes, the more labored her breathing gets, darkness quickly starting to close in. ]

Leonard... [ It's a soft breath of a mutter, a shaky hand reaching out before a moment later, she goes limp. ]

[ ooc: fast forward to the med bay? ]

[ She goes out on him with little warning, and far sooner than he was hoping for. She might hear him call out her name before passing out, but nothing he does will rouse her again. Still, he works frantically to keep her alive for as long as possible, throwing caution to the wind and trying to use his own blood to keep her hanging on, even if just barely.

At some point eventually the Enterprise manages to pick up their signals clearly, though it could've been minutes, could've been hours. Leonard's not even sure anymore. He just yells over the comm for them to be beamed directly to sickbay, and once there he gets to work, this time with the proper tools to heal her.

Other doctors and nurses do seem worried about his own state, but he just barks at them that he's fine, and it's not until he's sure that Sara's stable and fully healed that he actually takes any time at all to look over himself. Some minor scratches and cuts that he heals quickly, the spot on his arm where he drew his own blood too. He finally relents and lets a nurse check his signals, then he checks himself out of medical to go have a shower and change into a clean uniform, before he's back to work in sickbay, practically making a beeline to Sara's bed, where she's passed out.

Regardless of when she comes to, that's where she'll find him, either checking up on her or possibly passed out on a chair next to the bed. Both very real possibilities. ]

[ ooc: done! hope it works ♥ ]

[ Consciousness tugs at her slowly, heavily, a ringing in her ears and a weight anchoring her hard to the bed. Even the lights are aggressive, and she blinks once, twice, a few more times to try and stave off the haze dragging down her brain.

It takes a moment for the memories to come back, the realization that the stark, white lights above her mean they made it back.

They.

She sits up suddenly, her entire body seized with panic - and then a very immediate wave of pain that tugs at every nerve ending. ]

Shit - [ She groans, the heart monitor beeping incessantly with the pounding of her heart as she looks around the room wildly for any sign of him. ]

[ The movement, her voice and the monitor going off all come together to startle him as he's just dozed off on the chair he was sitting nearby. He sits upright with a sudden groan, then he's on his feet in a heartbeat, walking over to the side of her bed and immediately reaching for a scanner. ]

Lie back down. You're not doin' yourself any favors by moving around.

[ Her wound's mostly healed, but it is incredibly sore, and it's going to hurt for the next day or so. It's definitely going to be hurting right now. ]

[ The tension in her shoulders eases slightly when she sees him, breath still shallow in her chest. ]

You're okay?

[ She scans him up and down, and besides looking exhausted, he at least looks like he's in one piece. She settles back against the pillow, the heart monitor slowly starting to settle back to a normal pace. ]

Of course I'm okay. I'm not the one who got stabbed through with a spear.

[ Any injuries he had, from the crash or anything else, were quickly and easily healed, needing no treatment more specialized than the dermal regenerator and some good old-fashioned ice packs. ]

You're doin' alright too, for what it's worth. The wound's been sutured completely, and you've been given a blood transfusion. You'll feel some soreness over the next week or so, but nothing too terrible. You're staying in bed until tomorrow, and avoiding any intense exercise until I clear you for it, just in case.

[ He's not suggesting, he's ordering. ] Any questions?

[ At the mention of it, the ache creeps back into her body full strength, a hot throb in the spot just beneath her ribcage. She shifts a little in an attempt to get comfortable, glancing over at him again. ]

Have you slept?

[ He lifts an eyebrow at her question, deciding he may as well be honest. ]

No. But we've only been back a few hours. I'll sleep when my shift's over.

[ Never mind that this is a self-imposed shift. He'll do what he wants. ]

Your shift? [ She pulls a face, leveling him with a look. ]

Jesus Christ, Doc. You need to rest. You said it yourself, I'm fine. What the hell are you doing here?

I'm lookin' after you, what does it look like I'm doing?

[ What, like he's gonna leave her in the hands of some random medical officer? Hell no. ]

Now, stay still and let me check your vitals. And your injury.

You've got an entire team of medical officers on this ship, you're saying none of them can handle a mild stabbing?

[ She waves her hand at him, as if it'll do anything to block his scanner. ]

No. This is me officially refusing treatment from you. Get out of here, Doc.

I'm saying none of them can handle you.

[ She would huff and groan and quite probably try to sneak out of medical the first chance she got. She still might, even, unless he sedates her. Seems kind of over the top, though, so he'll keep that as a last resort. ]

Don't do that. Just let me check you. If you're alright, then I'll go get some sleep. I promise.

Oh I am not that bad of a patient.

[ It's bullshit, and she knows it. The amount of times he's left her under someone else's supervision only to find that she'd taken it upon herself to "clear herself for active duty" - which, yes, was totally against protocol - were far too many to count.

She rolls her eyes, though, resting back and allowing him to do his final checks. ]

Who said you knew how to handle me, anyway?

That's a filthy lie and we both know it.

[ And he knows that the moment he leaves, she'll already be plotting a way to escape medical. Hell, she's probably already plotting it in her head right now. ]

I've got plenty of experience. I can pull up the number of times you've landed yourself here, you know. [ And yeah, he's learned how to handle her. In this context, anyway. ]

Tell you what. I'll go get some sleep, if you promise me you'll still be here when I come back in eight to nine hours. Do we have a deal?

[ She can't but quirk a small smile at that, shrugging innocently in reply. ]

Okay, but in comparison to the number of times I've snuck out? That's... not even that high, probably.

[ She shoots him another sweet smile, considering his offer a moment. ]

Will you bring me food from the commissary?

It's high enough.

[ Hence his proposal for an agreement. He trusts her word, at the very least, and he hopes she'll use that time to get some decent sleep herself, not try and sneak out just because she doesn't like staying still. ]

I think that can be arranged. [ He tilts his head while setting the scanner aside. ] Is that a yes?

[ There's not much of a reason for her to get out of bed at the moment. Except on principal. But a promise is a promise.

She lifts her hand, pinky finger extended. ]

Pinky promise.

[ Shaking his head, he snorts. ] Oh, come on.

[ But fine. With a long sigh, he curls his pinky around hers, giving it a quick tug then letting go again before anyone in medical sees them acting like two children. ]

There. We're good now?

[ She grins up at him, giving his hand a playful shake before releasing the hold. ]

Sleep tight, Doc.

You too.

[ Dawdling for a little longer, he finally heads back to his quarters, and as promised, he pretty much passes out face-first on his bed. He wakes up eventually, feeling groggy at first, but nothing that washing his face and having some coffee can't fix.

He slips back into his uniform, then heads out to get her food, before he makes his way to sick bay. He does look inside almost worried that he won't find her there, but once he spots her on the same bed he left her, he heads on over with a tray of food in hand. ]

You ordered?

[ She's been pumped with a whole cocktail of things that barely keep her awake more than a few minutes after he's gone. There's a chance the dose is purposely high to keep her from moving around too much or, say, sneaking away, but if that's the case she honestly doesn't even blame the staff.

At the very least, by the time he's back, she at least looks vaguely more alive than before. She's fiddling with her communicator, checking back on old transmissions she missed while they were away.

Perking up at the sound of his voice, she grins and reaches out for the food, wiggling her fingers. ]

What'd you bring me?

[ Looks like at least the rest of the officers in medical have learned how she operates, and he's not about to criticize them using a combination of medications that happens to have the fortunate side effect of knocking her out. At least she can't go anywhere, and she's forced to get a full, decent night's sleep whether she wants to or not.

She's looking much more well-rested when he comes in, and for the record so does he. Face freshly scrubbed, that bit of stubble shaved, and no dark rim around his eyes. He sets the try in front of her: steak with mushroom sauce, rice and some french fries, and a glass of orange juice. It's still all replicator food, but it does look warmer and more appetizing than she's likely used to. ]

It's not breakfast, but I figured you'd rather have something a little better.

[ He doesn't reach for the scanner yet, but he does ask, ] How're you feeling? Does the injury still hurt a lot or is it just sore now?

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