Cate checks in on Aldrich and Charlie and Lyn comes to visit them and get her bandages changed. Aldrich clearly has a headwound.
Location: Sick Bay -- Vanguard
Related Scenes: None
Scene Number: 1118
Sickbay is pretty quiet at the moment, for the most part, with the staff on duty having done as much as they can for their charges... Including Aldrich, who is currently confined to a bed in the infirmary. His head is all bandaged up, while his other injuries are hidden by a combination of a hospital gown and blanket. In the quiet, his whispering sounds louder than it would otherwise, but it's in Old Gemenese. So, basically, gibberish as far as most of the crew would be concerned.
After returning from the mission, Lyn spent most of the night in there, keeping an eye on the Chaplain. But after being kicked out past visiting hours, she went back to her rack. It was a bad idea. Some of those cuts on her back from shrapnel need a few stitches, and sleeping was not fun. She's come back to get them tended to, and she has a platter in hand, with a round cake covered in chocolate ganache settled on it. She moves over to Aldrich's bed with a concerned expression, looking for someone to ask about his condition.
Cate has been in sickbay since returning from the mission, pausing just long enough to get cleaned up and change out of her bloodstained uniform. At least most of the blood wasn't hers this time. She has a couple stitches on her jaw to show for yesterday's adventure, the skin around the cut bruised and angry looking. She's just come in to check on Al, and is a little surprised to see Lyn there. "Oh, hey."
Aldrich doesn't really notice that Lyn is there until Cate speaks, and then it turns out that he's actually aware after all! Go figure. With a sharp inhale, he rouses and opens his eyes, blinking slowly as he seems Cate and Lyn. And chocolate cake. "What's going on?" He clears his throat a little, starts to sit up, but then realizes that's a really terrible idea and lies back again.
"Hey Doc, how is he doing?" Lyn asks, tipping her chin towards Aldrich. "I brought him his cake for his 'first day back on solid food' celebration post-fast." She winces a bit. "And my bandages might need changing. I probably should have had a few stitches. Silly me." When the chaplain speaks she smiles and sets the cake on the table beside his bed. "Hey Al, I thought I'd bring you your cake, since you're being all lazy and staying in bed today." And tomorrow. And the next day. And maybe a few after that.
"On the mend," is Cate's vague answer to Lyn's question about how he's doing. She nods about the bandages, then comes over to Aldrich's bedside. "Hey. How're you feeling?" she asks, a touch of concern in her voice.
Aldrich looks just a touch green as Lyn calls attention to the cake, but he tries to cover it with a weak smile, and a quiet, "That's really kind of you. Thank you..." He focuses on Cate, and the smile grows a little more wry. "Like the gods dropped a truck on me. But I'm alive. Thank you..."
Lyn shrugs out of her off-duty tan jacket to reveal her tank and tee combo have already had some bleed through from the bandages below. She pulls a chair over to the Chaplain's bedside and turns it backwards, straddling it and resting her arms on the back, so Cate can get to the area where she acted as a blast shield for her and Aldrich in the field. She smirks at the man. "Well the Cylons dropped a rocket or ten on the truck we were in, so you're close," she comments.
Cate frowns when she sees Lyn's back. "Did you skip out without getting stitches?" If not, she makes a mental note to go chew out whatever doctor discharged Lyn without them. Nevermind that medics shouldn't be chewing out doctors. Protective Doc is protective. She nods then. "Yeah, close enough. You'll be all right though. Seeing that green look, she says, "I'm not sure his head's quite up to cake today though. How bout we try a little broth first and see how you do?"
Aldrich glances between Lyn and Cate, with a kind of glassy, wandering quality to his expression that could be the head injury or the morpha, or (more likely) some combination of both. "Broth sounds nice..." he offers, then goes on, "How are the others? Everything is fuzzy. Did we lose anyone?"
Some of the hits that Charlie took were hard enough to keep her in sickbay for at least a night. Probably to make sure she stays off her leg long enough to ensure no lasting or severe damage is done. The woman has been fast asleep thanks to the pain killers in the wake of the surgical work done to remove bullets and shrapnel from the wounds before they were stitched closed, but she's coming to now in her own bed nearby.
"I never checked in. I went on and helped get what was left of the supplies to the drop point," Lyn admits. She grimaces and looks to the cake. "Well we'll put it in the meds cooler or something until he feels better?" she offers with the grin melting into a small smile. It fades at the question he asks though. She looks to Cate to answer it, because she's trained as a doctor to deliver that kind of news.
Cate rubs her face. "Sorry. I should've made sure you were seen to," Cate says to Lyn. Of course she was a little busy dealing with the more seriously injured. But still. She nods to the suggestion about the cake. "I'm sure the galley can keep it safe for him." Aldrich's question gets a frown. "We lost one of the drivers. The other's bad off, but everyone from our squad made it."
Aldrich grimaces at Cate's answer. "Frack." Yep, definitely a morpha/head injury sort of day. He swipes a hand over his face, and looks over toward Lyn. "I need to plan a memorial. Can you get me his file? Find out who his friends were? His friends may need to talk to someone, but they should go to Dr. Anders, unless they are Caprican and religious... And bring me the file for the other driver, just in case."
"I told you I was fine Doc; not your fault if I wasn't," Lyn says with a gentle smile for Cate. "But if you could change the bandages, I think I'll feel better. I have to wash my sheets today because I'm a stubborn moron." She looks to Aldrich and sets a hand on his to keep him from wrecking his bandages. "Easy, Al. You aren't going to be doing much for a few days at least. But I'll bring you the things you need. Anything you want from your rack or the chapel?"
"It's my job to make sure," Cate points out mildly to Lyn. "But yeah, I can do that in a sec." She nods when Lyn encourages Al to rest. "She's right. Take it easy. You're off duty for a day or two. The driver was one of the Picon guys, so I'm sure their chaplain will be taking care of him planetside." While Lyn looks after Aldrich, Cate happens to notice that Charlie is stirring. "Hey Wagner. How're you feeling?" she wanders a little closer to the other woman's bed.
Because she hasn't heard yet and she's still just coming out of her own morpha-fueled haze, Charlie finally manages to ask: "Did we get the rest of the supplies delivered?" 'We' because it was a team mission, even if some of them got shipped back early. She swallows a bit awkwardly, finding her mouth with that upsettingly cotton feeling, casting about for a cup or pitcher of water. Then there's a Cate. "Doc," she offers, lifting a bandaged arm as if for inspection. "You know this just healed up?"
Aldrich sighs a little and looks up at the ceiling. "Well, we'll still need to check up on any of our guys who might have known him..." He fades out for a second, and rubs at his eyes, before his attention wanders back to Lyn. "Yeah. In the chapel, if you go to the storage cabinet in back, there's a basket. If you could bring that, it would be really helpful."
"Will do," Lyn says quietly to Aldrich. "We really need to teach you to duck, Al. Granted, dodging rockets is a bit tricky," she chides gently. "How are you feeling, other than terrible?" She looks over towards Charlie and gives her fellow Recon marine a nod of her head. "You doing ok, Spectre? That was one hell of a coordinated ambush."
"Yeah, what was left of them," Cate tells Charlie. She sees her looking around and says, "Need a drink?" Assuming some affirmative, Cate gets her a cup of water and then helps her sit up. "Better your arm than your head," is all Cate has to offer on that score. "You need anything?"
"I just wish I'd spotted it sooner," Wagner offers with a hint of frustration in her voice. "we might've been able to pull back the trucks before they got those rockets off." Charlie is barely able to agree with the need for a drink before Cate's getting one. She accepts the help upright and the cup, taking a long sip. "Just my ticket out of here."
Aldrich smiles faintly. "Normally I'm a bit better at it than that. I must have been distracted." His attention wanders toward Charlie, or what he can see from where he's laid up. "I'm... Fine, really." Yeah, he doesn't look fine. But that's Al all over.
Lyn smiles at Aldrich and eyes the morpha drip, because he's definitely loopy. "Looks like you've joined the concussion club with me and a few others. You'll be getting one of those sacrifice medals next go round for awards, Al."
"Well nobody else saw it at all, so don't beat yourself up," Cate offers gently to Charlie. When she asks for a ticket out, Cate's lips press together. "Not my call. But I'll round up an official doc to check on you." After making sure Charlie's situated with her drink, Cate moves back over to Lyn. "Let's change those bandages." Hearing the remark to Al, she smirks. "Oh, he's already got a couple of those. Our fighting chaplain."
"You think we can put in an official request that they hold off on those frakkin' sacrifice medals? I want one giant one at the end of all this. Buy a house, put it on the roof. Signal planes with it." Charlie looks at the bandaging on her arm, then to her other arm. Where the Cython scars are still glaringly obvious. What, she couldn't be shot there? Start writing over those horrors? The woman nods to Cate, sinking back into the pillows after she uses her good arm to set the cup aside. "I appreciate it," she offers to Cate.
Aldrich looks between Lyn and Cate with a vague frown. "They shouldn't be giving me medals for that," he comments, pauses to scrub at one eye, and then sighs. "That sort of thing is supposed to be for when you /do/ something." Then Charlie makes her comment and apparently it strikes Aldrich as funny. He tries to hold in a laugh, but it slips out anyway, only to be follow quickly by a grimace.
Lyn grunts at Cate, and knows darn well pulling up her shirts is going to suck, because they're stuck to the bandages which are stuck to the wounds. "Well you did do something, Al. You acted as a meatshield for the rest of us," she quips.
"You sacrificed. It's why they call it a sacrifice medal," Cate points out dryly. She frowns when she realizes that Lyn's shirts are stuck to her back with dried blood. "Going to have to wet this to get your shirt off without ripping the scabs open. You want to do that here?"
"You got injured acting in the line of duty for the colonies," Charlie offers, sinking back into her pillows. It was meant to be funny. She did her job as a marine. But she's getting tired again. Or the morpha is doing its work anew. "Makes the civvies feel better, seeing us with medals. We're just doing our jobs, but they feel bad anyway, knowing we're shot to shit, missing limbs... all that. So they give us medals, even though it's weird as frak standing on a stage being given 'em."
Aldrich snorts faintly. "I didn't sacrifice or shield anything. I just got in the way at the wrong time," he says, but the amusement wears off pretty quickly, and he sighs to Charlie's observations. "Well, I guess as long as someone out there feels better..."
"Yeah, go ahead," Lyn says to Cate. She has developed a bit of an aversion to the head lately. "I can take it, Doc," she quips. Truly, in her long list of past injuries, this is just a minor annoyance. She chuckles at Al. "Well you did carry a bunch of crates of supplies from one vehicle to another. That counts."
"Guess it makes somebody somewhere feel better," Cate offers with a vague shrug. She nods to Lyn. "All right. I'll be back in a sec with supplies." She wanders out of the room.
"Especially you being a priest and all," Charlie offers towards Aldrich, closing her eyes as she focuses on breathing for a moment. Her good hand goes to her injured leg. Pain must have spiked. "People would feel just miserable if they didn't see you... honored or something and they found out. Just the way of things, y'know? Part of war. To us, this is a job. They're just stamped out bits of metal that we don't pay a bit of mind to... but it's pretty important they see us get 'em."
"It's not a job for me," Aldrich says. "It's..." He trails off, and then his attention wanders again, back to Lyn. "I never told you, you're really pretty. Someone should tell you that."
"It's a calling for him," Lyn finishes on his behalf. Then she turns about 35 shades of scarlet at his words. "Now that is definitely the head injury talking, Al."
"Yeah, well. It's just a job for me. Else I'd've been on Picon still. Where I should've been. Making a proper difference." Someone's feeling a good, healthy dose of survivor's guilt. Probably more than healthy. Like, way more. But Charlie's jolted out of it a fair bit by Aldrich's words to Lyn and... she looks down at her leg and winces. "...pretend I'm leaving you two alone."
Aldrich closes his eyes, frowning deeply. "You need to learn to see yourself from the outside," he says, slowly. "Instead of looking through dark mirrors." Then he takes a breath and opens his eyes again, looking vaguely in the direction of Charlie's bed. "No, you should stay. You can tell her I'm not lying."
"Al, that's really sweet of you and all, but you don't have to say those things to me to be nice," Lyn insists quietly. She grimaces at Charlie. "They really rang his bell."
"How long you been a marine, Arda?" Charlie keeps her eyes closed. Frak, her leg hurts. She's not getting out for a number of hours yet, is she? Hopefully she won't be spending another full night. "You know we hate being in here because we can't keep our mouths shut on morpha. He ain't lyin'. He can't lie on this shit. So just shut up and enjoy the compliments at least." She scoffs, glancing over and cracking an eye to look to where Lyn's bleeding. "At least then you'll have something nice to remember when the docs are poking around in ya."
Aldrich sighs and closes his eyes on that. "No one ever believes me," he remarks, kind of sadly, but then gestures vaguely. "You two carry on. I'm so tired..." Then he shifts a little to try to get slightly more comfortable, and settles back into the pillow. After a moment, he adds, "Sorry about the cake." And that's the last from Aldrich for awhile.
"17 years," Lyn replies to Charlie. "Though we were just considered militia back on Aquaria." She swallows at the little lump building in her throat. "I believe you," she whispers quietly to Aldrich, before she pulls the blanket up around him as he sleeps. Now she just has to wait for Cate to clean up her wounds.
"I think he deserves extra cake for that," Charlie offers in mild amusement. She closes her eyes again, letting out a long breath. "You should go get patched up," she offers to Lyn. "Before they strap you down somewhere. Always sucks when they do that."
"Yeah, just waiting on Cate to make me suffer for my stupidity," Lyn chuckles. "You should get some rest, Charlie. We need you up and running ASAP. If the cylons are getting that sneaky and coordinated, we have to be equally sneaky and coordinated."