Sickbay - OTA

[treadswater]

There is a lot to be said about dealing with worry (or fear, or anxiety, or madness) through work. Certainly, it works for Annie. After she was kicked out of the Careers, her father had her assisting him at his lighthouse - taking measurements, organising records, compiling reports. After she came home after her Games, still trying to claw her way through a mental breakdown, the other victors had her going through the paperwork for the Career Academy, sorting it and restructuring it and calculating payments.

It helped. Both times, it helped.

And, now, being allowed to be one of the volunteers in Sickbay helps. Being allowed to work with the data being generated by everyone's efforts to find a cure, to help organise, to help do an assistant's tedious, important work of going over printouts and double-checking things for those with more expertise lets her fill her mind with other things. Keep how sick with fear (that Finnick can't be cured) and worry (that while he's avoiding her she can't make sure he's okay, that nothing worse has happened) at bay.

Well.

Helps keep it all at bay. Certainly, it's better than doing nothing.

But someone might want to try and tell the woman to either get some sleep or actually eat something.

i'm telling y'all it's sabotage • ota

[caelus]

[ooc: backdated to the 7th!]

Jim had run into Finnick, a guy he'd really only seen in passing before seeing the kid-sized him in the Arboretum. Another one of Q's antics, he supposed. It seemed to be a pretty regular occurrence, and that wasn't counting the displacement of more people on a regular basis as well. He questioned, though mostly to himself, what was being done about this, or even what could be done.

He and Picard weren't exactly best friends, in fact, they were about as far from it as they could get. Then the man came barreling into the lounge looking for him---fine. It was his ship. His prerogative. But Jim didn't have to like it or him. God.

And---he stopped, stepping out of the way of a couple of crewmen, and reached up to cover a yawn with one hand. Seriously? He hadn't been up for that long, why was he suddenly feeling so run down? It felt like one of the bad days he had when he was recuperating at Starfleet Medical after the incident with Marcus and Khan. Those had been rough days after he came out of that coma.

No, he still had some things he wanted to do. Things he wanted to look into. But---okay, maybe he should just go back to his and Chekov's room and rest for a little while. It couldn't hurt, right? So that's what he does, only he's not expecting to sleep for so long, and he's definitely not expecting the shock that comes with waking up. The shock of waking up in a too big bed, and diving out of it for the bathroom. He's not ready for the shock of looking at the scrawny kid he was 12 or 13 some odd years ago. The face of a kid that he's tried so hard to distance himself from and the memories that go with it.

But standing there and staring isn't going to do anything. First things first, this tiny uniform he apparently fell asleep in and changed with him is---ridiculous. He pushes a chair away from the desk he shares with his roommate and then works on getting comfortable clothes out of the replicator for himself.

--- later on in Ten Forward ---

There's a boy, between 12 and 13, a little short for his age, with floppy blonde hair that gets in his eyes at the slightest movement, wearing a red leather jacket, a dark blue sweater underneath, jeans, and boots, walking into the lounge. Despite how awkward he feels in a body he hasn't been in for over a decade, he walks with a casual sort of arrogance that might remind people of that notorious Jim Kirk whose name has come up an awful lot lately.

That's cause he is.

This is great. Just great.