ten_fwd | 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Beverly nods slowly, her eyes full of sympathy and understanding. Bad memories. Yes. That's a lot of it. There's more to it for her, of course, but how to vocalize it to someone who might not know.

"Yes, please," she says at first, indicating the tea. That's always something good to help her keep calm. They didn't have much of that in Zelien, so she's been making good use of it here.

"Bad memories, yes... but it's also the fact that I'm not supposed to be here any more than you are. This isn't... it isn't my universe or my Enterprise and everywhere I turn, I see a reminder of that." It's hard. Harder than she'll likely admit. But what can she do but keep moving forward? She has to be the Chief Medical Officer for this ship, whether or not she's the one they are all used to. It's her duty as a Starfleet officer to help and help she has done. The trouble comes when she needs help as much as they do.

DJ took the lid off of the thermos, removing the second cup from inside the first. He poured them both some tea, and picked up Beverly's cup, holding it out to her. All the while, he listened to her with a quiet frown of concern, thinking over what she said.

No, he might not know what she was going through exactly from a personal perspective, but he could understand the aftermath of such trauma and confusion. He didn't need his empathy for his heart to go out to the woman.

"Ah..." He murmured. Picking up his data PADD. Considering for a moment, he decided to share something rather personal.

Where I am from, I had died in an Accident. I was put in cryogenic freeze for a number of years. This process and what was done to me afterwards damaged my memories enough that I don't remember the original time I was from or my life before. Just flashes of memories. Without context they are hard to understand.

I remember when I was revived how out of place I felt. And scared. Everything was so alien and different and confusing. I knew deep down that it wasn't my time or my place. I was brought there by force and without my consent. At least coming here, it's not as bad.

I may not understand what happened to you since we experienced different circumstances. But...I know a lot of the feelings you are feeling. I catch glimpses of situations or things or feelings and I feel like it's so familiar. That I can almost remember. But it's fleeting.

I really wish you didn't have to go through that pain. I don't wish that pain on anyone. I didn't share this with you to downplay your own experience - I just wanted to show you I understand your pain and your fear. I'm sorry you have to go through it.

He quickly put the PADD down so she could see it before he changed his mind and sipped at his drink, eyes lowered.

Beverly takes the new cup with a murmured "Thank you," grateful beyond measure for the offer. Taking a sip or two, she waits for him to write up what he wants to tell her on the PADD, sipping again a she reads it and turning her cup around in her hands. A frown creases her face, not because she's concerned about whatever threat he might pose her -- if that were the case, she wouldn't be sitting here talking to him -- or because she is confused by his words. It's more because she knows what this feels like, in another sense. A very different sense.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she answers, handing him the PADD back and giving him a look of concern. A moment later, she reaches very, very briefly to place a hand lightly against his arm. She has always been a tactile person; that's just how she shows she cares. "Thank you... for that. I know how difficult it is to talk about these sorts of events."

Very difficult. For a few seconds, she pauses to sip her tea again, her mind running a thousand kilometers a minute.

"I remember... something like that. I once lost 17 days and I have no idea what happened in those 17 days. I remember the last day. I remember exactly what happened and all the feelings of deja vu that came with it. Due to the nature of the time loop I was stuck in, that deja vu feeling meant that I had done those actions before, but I didn't remember them, nor did I know until after I broke free." She gives her head a small shake. "It's... the strangest sensation, knowing you aren't where you should be. Or when. I can't decide which would be better... remembering or not. Either way... I'm sorry you had to go through that, too."

DJ sat with his tea in his hands, looking down at it while she read the data PADD. Almost in a bashful type of manner. Quiet and respectful. Her words caused him to look up though, and he took back the PADD. If it was mostly anyone else, he would have probably flinched at the touch, but he didn't. It was a very gentle gesture and he was touched by it.

He nodded in agreement. "Hard." He agreed softly. He had given snippets of his history to others, but not many and not much of it. Beverly was the first he said that much detail to. He quickly typed on the data PADD while paying attention to what she was saying, dark eyes meeting hers. What she was saying had touched him, and he didn't want to speak and ruin such a moment.

You are the first that I've spoken about it in that much detail before. I just wanted to show you I understood. You don't have to say anything that's too difficult - but I'm here if you ever want to.

As for remembering, part of me is sad that I can't remember. But at the same time, I'm almost glad that I don't. It would be more painful if I did know what I left. Before everything happened.

He picked up his tea and sipped at it - then reached out slowly towards Beverly with his left hand. Making sure it was the one without all the wiring on his fingers. He didn't want to make her uneasy. His intention was simply just to handhold for comfort. For the both of them.

Beverly nods in response as she takes the PADD again and reads it. She had gotten the idea that he understood and hadn't been trying to undermine it. In her own way, she had been reaching out, trying to show that she also understood him.

"I think I understand," she says softly, handing back the PADD. "There are some parts of my life that I would rather not remember. But others that make up the very definition of who I am. I know it must be difficult to think of either way." Even if she can understand, she doesn't think she would ever be okay with knowing she'd forgotten the important events of her life, even the painful ones. "Thank you for telling me and... I'm glad we had this chance to talk."

She would not have minded if he had taken her hand with the one of his that had wire on it. One of her hobbies is cybernetics. A wired hand is something she can understand very well. As it is, she hesitates only briefly before wrapping her fingers around his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. This helps in its own way.

DJ offered another of his small almost-smiles at her thanks. "Any time." He murmured softly. He returns the gentle squeeze of her hand and simply sits in companionable silence as he drank his tea. This was one of the rare times since he'd arrived on this ship where he felt any degree of contentment. Maybe even peace.

"I can keep watch and play more, if you want to rest." He murmured haltingly as he sought for words, nodding towards his guitar.

A small smile crosses her face. It's kind of him to offer, kind that he has already offered her so much. All of this means more to her than she can say. "I'd like that. I may not... sleep again, but thank you. I don't think I can say how much I appreciate it."

DJ smiled at her and gestured towards the thermos to let her know she can have more if she wanted. He sipped at his own tea - metal glinting on his fingertips, and wiring poking along his skin and into the sleeve of his shirt. Placing his cup down and releasing her hand, he picked up his guitar and tinkered with the strings with long fingers, making sure everything was still in key. He found the motions of handling the instrument soothing.

Soon enough, melodies came from his fingers as he relaxed into the familiar motions.

it's the only way i can escape }{ OPEN

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