beverly crusher, md (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ethnobotany) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2015-11-06 12:38 pm
ethnobotany) wrote in ten_fwd2015-11-06 12:38 pm
Entry tags:
it's the only way i can escape }{ OPEN
(( OOC: potential content warnings all over this for mentions of horror game content, telepathic violation, telepathic control of another, sexual harassment, death, etc. Basically, the doctor is not having a good month. ))
The only good thing to have come of Zelien was the ability to deal with horrific and traumatizing events as they happened. Afterwards is another story. Beverly had thought that being able to deal with the events themselves meant that she could deal with everything Q conjured up for them because it was over. She thought she would be fine.
She was wrong. She was so wrong.
The thing Zelien had yet to teach her was how to deal with the aftereffects of trauma. The nightmares flare again, worse than what Q had offered them recently, and even shadows make her twitchy. Memories, fears, anything traumatic that her mind could conjure up, it did. People might not want to be around her this month. She startles at the slightest movement and sometimes her instinct is self-defense, protection, because her mind remembers Zelien and the cultists, the soldiers who jeered, leered, called, and harassed.
The nightmares have her wrestling with the sheets, memories of Jev the Ullian -- was that his name? Have they been here yet? Does she need to prepare for that? -- or Ronin, different contexts, but both violations of her mental self. Of course, both lead to other nightmares of her husband's dead body or some Victorian man about 35 years old not only forcing her into his bed, but forcing her to enjoy it. Sometimes Wesley dies in place of Jack and she wakes up sobbing. Sometimes Jean-Luc's lifeless body haunts her, the Borg come in to take over the ship yet again, or the entire crew is systematically murdered to torment her. The last to die is always Jean-Luc because her subconscious mind knows that his death will haunt her the most. These and others cause her to bolt out of her quarters in the dead of night out of sheer, blind panic, heading for somewhere she can feel safe.
Most of the time, she can be found in a corner of the Arboretum. Here, she is either asleep, though it's a fitful sleep that she wakes easily from and often in a state of terror; sitting with her hands over her ears and eyes squeezed shut against that feeling of panic; or sitting with her knees tucked up to her chin and a dead look to her eyes while she stares straight ahead. When she isn't there, she might be in the holodeck, using a program of an open meadow. No walls or buildings will be in sight, not even that new cabin that she would so love normally. She remembers so clearly those buildings on that campus, remembers the sights and sounds and smells of the acid. Stomach acid. Like the buildings were alive and trying to eat them all. At least the meadow means nothing will be eating her alive. When she isn't in either of those places, she's likely in the gym, practicing Mok'bara to meditate and calm her nerves. Intruders might want to make their presence known before they startle her. Beverly is back to being twitchy and that means nothing good will come of it. What she needs are distractions, as many as possible, and people who are willing to work with her trauma.
She'll get better over the course of the month, but in the beginning and middle, she is not doing well at all.
The only good thing to have come of Zelien was the ability to deal with horrific and traumatizing events as they happened. Afterwards is another story. Beverly had thought that being able to deal with the events themselves meant that she could deal with everything Q conjured up for them because it was over. She thought she would be fine.
She was wrong. She was so wrong.
The thing Zelien had yet to teach her was how to deal with the aftereffects of trauma. The nightmares flare again, worse than what Q had offered them recently, and even shadows make her twitchy. Memories, fears, anything traumatic that her mind could conjure up, it did. People might not want to be around her this month. She startles at the slightest movement and sometimes her instinct is self-defense, protection, because her mind remembers Zelien and the cultists, the soldiers who jeered, leered, called, and harassed.
The nightmares have her wrestling with the sheets, memories of Jev the Ullian -- was that his name? Have they been here yet? Does she need to prepare for that? -- or Ronin, different contexts, but both violations of her mental self. Of course, both lead to other nightmares of her husband's dead body or some Victorian man about 35 years old not only forcing her into his bed, but forcing her to enjoy it. Sometimes Wesley dies in place of Jack and she wakes up sobbing. Sometimes Jean-Luc's lifeless body haunts her, the Borg come in to take over the ship yet again, or the entire crew is systematically murdered to torment her. The last to die is always Jean-Luc because her subconscious mind knows that his death will haunt her the most. These and others cause her to bolt out of her quarters in the dead of night out of sheer, blind panic, heading for somewhere she can feel safe.
Most of the time, she can be found in a corner of the Arboretum. Here, she is either asleep, though it's a fitful sleep that she wakes easily from and often in a state of terror; sitting with her hands over her ears and eyes squeezed shut against that feeling of panic; or sitting with her knees tucked up to her chin and a dead look to her eyes while she stares straight ahead. When she isn't there, she might be in the holodeck, using a program of an open meadow. No walls or buildings will be in sight, not even that new cabin that she would so love normally. She remembers so clearly those buildings on that campus, remembers the sights and sounds and smells of the acid. Stomach acid. Like the buildings were alive and trying to eat them all. At least the meadow means nothing will be eating her alive. When she isn't in either of those places, she's likely in the gym, practicing Mok'bara to meditate and calm her nerves. Intruders might want to make their presence known before they startle her. Beverly is back to being twitchy and that means nothing good will come of it. What she needs are distractions, as many as possible, and people who are willing to work with her trauma.
She'll get better over the course of the month, but in the beginning and middle, she is not doing well at all.
no subject
"Wedding advice," Annie says, glancing up at Beverly with an expression somewhere between shy and mischievous. Shy, because she's not sure of Beverly's mood and also because wedding, with all the public vulnerability that goes along with it, and mischievous, because Beverly does seem the kind of person to enjoy such things. "Mine and Finnick's. I never had to organise one before."
no subject
"A wedding?" Her eyebrows slide upwards. "I can help with that. It won't be the Starfleet wedding that mine was, but the beauty of being here and from another culture is that we can design one to suit both of you. Did you have anything specific in mind?"
no subject
Annie's mouth curves, twists a bit wryly. "Holodeck's not real. And I want everything to be real."
Real.
A real, proper wedding to start a real, proper marriage. Nothing having to be fought for in the shadows and underneath lies, nothing pretend or fake or just a trick of the mind.
Finnick deserves better than that. Annie wants more than that.
"But. I don't know what's allowed, really."
no subject
Guinan usually gives it up for something important and special like this.
"Usually, a Starfleet wedding is officiated by a captain or admiral, depending on where it's held. Do you have someone in mind to do that?"
no subject
Then she shakes her head.
"Well. I. I was gonna ask Captain Picard, if that was standard. Captains can marry folk back home, too, so it'd be a nice continuity."
no subject
Have the O'Brien's had their wedding yet? No? She doesn't think so, but she doesn't remember hearing about it one way or another. Add that to the list of things she'll have to look into.
"And if you'd like, I can go with you when you ask both of them. As support." Support in case either gives her trouble, though Beverly doesn't see that happening. The only difficult part might be convincing Jean-Luc to officiate. If Beverly is there and helps argue the case, she knows it won't be a problem.
no subject
It's quickly spoken, Annie's eyes a little wide. She is still a shy woman, no matter that she's not as skittish as she had been when she arrived. And this is asking strangers, and strangers in authority, for a favour. For a big favour.
Support would be lovely, and needed unless she wants to start stuttering.
no subject
"Consider it done," she says, leaning in and lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Sometimes it pays to be best friends with the captain."
Not that this is a secret, exactly, but it isn't something she goes around telling just anyone. She doesn't abuse that connection, that's for sure.
no subject
"My mother was a captain," she admits, in much the same tone. "I understand."
Not that Ibbie Soto let her daughter get away with much, but, still.
Sometimes, it pays to be close to the one in charge.
no subject
"What else do you have in mind? Are you having a bachelorette party the night before?"