2237-06-21 - Visiting Hours

Various people visit Jonas after the Belltown Blowup.

Date: 2237-06-21

Location: Sickbay, Vanguard

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1149

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It was touch and go for a bit last night when Jonas was brought in. After surgery, he's currently in bed, his head and chest covered in bandages, but his face is exposed at least, but his head was shaved partially to get to the wound on the side of his head. His breakfast is all fluids at the moment, being fed to him through his IV as he has his eyes closed, currently resting.

Erin is all quiet. If there's one thing she's good at, it's being quiet when she needs to be. Sure, the bravado and snark is funny and charming and shit, but she is, at her most basic, a scout, and a trash panda. She sneaks as well as anyone else, that's for sure.

"Hey, dork." She looks about for a moment, and then pulls something out of her fatigues. "If you can hear me? Wasn't a total loss." A small balloon filled with a liquid is taken from her pocket, and slipped into one of Jonas' hands. "For later. When you're better. It's pretty tasty. And I'll bet the docs here will flip." Because it's a balloon of booze.

Wait, who uses a balloon to carry booze? Yeesh. That's some gangsta street shit.

"And, ah -- you know, thanks for saving our hides back there."

The fingers squeeze around the latex, and Jonas' eyes threaten to open, as he tries to speak. Not exactly the best of ideas at the moment, but he feels he owes someone.. anyone.. an explanation. "..didn't mean to blow the mission." he manages quietly as he stares up at the cieling. "Everyone else?" he asks, and then offers a weak smile. "This better not be -- condom."

His body wills him to try to sit up, but that only gets a feeble movement before he's back on the bed again, but he manages to turn his head to look up at Erin.

Erin lifts an eyebrow, and smirks. "And exactly why would I have a condom?" Of all the known marines, she probably needs them the least.

"Hey, you didn't blow the frakkin' mission. Something happened, trouble was coming." Beat. "You kicked the crap out of four frakkin' Centurions on your own. Who can say that? Granted, you ended up pulling a Meatshield maneuver, but -- " Erin pokes at Jonas' hand. " -- that's what the gift's for. For later. Got a whole bottle of bourbon out of there. Still got some left." Woo-hoo! Good stuff.

"I'm more worried 'bout Ghost." Frowny face. "She seemed shaken."

"Terrified." Jonas corrects quietly. "Talk to her." It's all he can offer, it's probably a bad idea for him to talk to her about it, because that's it's whole other bundle of bad juju.

"Wagner? New girl?" he asks after their conditions, especially since Charlie seemed to be in the most trouble of them as he turns his attention back to the cieling. "Not me. Mines. Front towards enemy." There would be a small chuckle, but that's too much effort at the moment.

"Toaster tickled Wagner's tit. Broke a rib, I think, but she'll recover." Beat. "Kriminy's fine. I think she feels bad for following orders and not sticking around to fight, but -- " Shrug. " -- I've already told her that following orders is the right thing to do, and opposing them is the wrong thing."

"As for the mines, look -- you brought them, you get the credit. Rest of us packed peashooters relative to those things." Erin snorts. "So, take the compliment, dammit. All right?" And that's that.

Pause. "Walker knows?"

"Don't know. First time been lucid." Jonas admits. "But.." he looks around. "Addison's here. Gale probably is too." Brother would have his sister nearby, as she had taken light duty just for that purpose.

"Yeah. Following orders." he frowns a little. "Should have taken charge when Arda freaked. Thought she was still in the game." There's a sigh, he's second-guessing it all in his head. "Glad she's okay. Give balloon to Krima, sounds like she needs it more."

"Hey, she already got a couple of pulls, Sarge. She's fine." Beat. "And don't second guess what happened. It just happened. We all came out alive, against odds. That's what matters."

Erin is trying not to get maudlin. She's standing by Jonas' bed, talking quietly to him. Her tone is matter-of-fact, with a note of encouragement.

"I mean, think of it. Four Centurions on your own, really?" Snort. "You know, if you weren't already imbedded in Walker, you'd probably be able to score bucket after bucket among the pilots. That's pretty macho, if you think about it." Beat. "I mean, more than dropping me on my head, you big bully."

Jonas is the one in the bed for a change. His chest is covered in bandages, along with the top half of his head, though the very top of his scalp is open, showing that his head has been shaved to tend to one of the wounds. "Wasn't about being macho. Arda ordered a distraction. Two.. five birds, one stone." he says with a laugh. "Though some bullcrap about stop and listen to their song." He lets out a breath as he reaches to take up some ice chips to put in his mouth, setting the balloon in a more secure spot for now.

"Tried to climb me like a tree, deserved it, trash panda." he murmurs semi-affectionately. "Take care of them. The recon. Let them know I'm fine. Or will be. And don't let her take blame. She'll try it. Know her too well."

Aldrich is still wearing a bandage on his head, himself, but the rest of his wounds have healed up by now. He's still required to visit the docs on a regular basis to check his head, which probably explains what he's doing here. But while he's there, he wanders back to the infirmary, appearing near Jonas's room (or section, or whatever the infirmary has). "Wow, you really did get squashed," he remarks, vaguely. Blame it on the TBI.

"Pff." Erin crosses her arms, and rolls her eyes. "Right. I deserved it. Sure." Snicker. She looks over to Aldrich for a second, and head-bobs at him. "Hey, Chappy." Then, back to the Jonas.

"Wagner's fine, Costello's fine, and Arda'll be fine. I'll check in on her." Snort. "Not sure what protocol is, but I'm not sure if slapping her to her senses is allowed. And I'm terrible at confidence building, but -- " Shrug. " -- look, everything'll be fine. They'll probably have us out in force soon again. After what happened? I'll wager command wants us to attempt the mission again before the Cylons reinforce."

"And frogs bump their asses when they jump." Jonas offers to the super-observant chaplain as he chews on the ice chips and then swallows as he gives a small nod to Erin's comment. "Didn't slap. Pinched. Cheek. She hates it." he admits, but it did the trick, snapping Arda out of whatever she was in at that moment that freaked her out.

"Did. Did you say.. a nanny Cylon punched Charlie in the tit?" That just caught up with him and he can't help but to snicker at the image. "At least. Implants not in service." Because that would have been so much worse. "If they do. Be careful. Probably worse now."

Aldrich's brow furrows a little. "Did Lyn get hurt?" Because of course that's the thing he's worried about. "Maybe... you two should leave her alone..." Then Jonas is moving on to talk about Charlie getting punched in the tit, and he just sort of stares for a moment, then rubs at the bridge of his nose as though fending off a headache. "Um. Listen, do you need anything? Reading material, snacks, something from your bunk, or...whatever?"

"Yep. Like, square, right in the boob. Biff." Erin has to add the sound effect when she mimes a light sucker punch in the air. "Broke something in there. But, as I said, she'll be fine."

She turns to Aldrich when he approaches, re-crossing her arms. "Not sure if she took any major damage, Chappy. I'm more worried about her senses." Erin raises an eyebrow. "She's our highest ranked enlisted in our team. If she's cleared for duty, she's got command. And, as we were talking about, there's a fair bet the higher-ups want us back on the ground as soon as possible." Beat. "But she froze for a second. And we're worried she's blaming herself for what happened."

"This isn't a personal attack, Chaplain." Jonas offers quietly. When Erin speaks up, he nods to her. "Had to snap her out of it. Whole thing went to shit. Not on her." He's not entirely sure if anyone's to blame, except a damn glitchy nannybot left behind on an evacuation transport.

Aldrich nods a little, still looking pretty concerned about the whole thing. "She seems like the sort who would, regardless." He takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. "Why don't I go talk to her instead?" he suggests. "That sort of thing is my job, after all." Beat. "Well, mine and Anders, now."

Erin arches an eyebrow at Aldrich. "You're more than welcome to talk to her?" Beat. "But if Fox Force Four has to go planetside again before you do? Bet on me doing so." Shrug. "As Ingvar said, this ain't an attack. We care about her, just as much as ourselves, Chappy. And if she's tearing her hair out, well -- that's really not going to help us when command packs us like sardines into a tent for a week or so in the wilderness." Snort. "I'd be the first to volunteer to rub up on her, but not if she's going to be twitchy about it."

Jonas glances between Aldrich and Erin for a moment. This isn't his fight, but he is paying attention as he smirks just a little. "Fox Force Four?" he asks with a grin. "Why not Four Non-Blondes?" He doesn't think there's a blonde in the recon group he can remember as he gives a raspy cough and reaches from the ice chips again.

"I haven't been asked to make a report yet. Doubt I will since I got shot to hell. But if they asked me, the reason the recon failed was because of poor pre-planning by the local forces. Noone expected that transport to be there. It just was."

Aldrich stares at Erin, again with that vague sort of lost look. "Just because you say it isn't an attack doesn't mean it won't feel like one to her," he points out. "And I need to talk to her about something else, anyway, so don't worry about it." His attention wanders back to Jonas, with a vague frown, then back to Erin. "I should go get cleared by one of the nurses so I can go... do that." Back to Jonas. "I'll send over some magazines. I know it's not fun to be laid up in here."

Shrug. "Sure?" Erin shrugs again. "If you say so. After being shot at a lot -- and I have been -- I can usually figure the difference between an attack and not-an-attack. I'm betting Arda can do the same." She cants her head to the side. "But what would we know? We're only Aquarian." Snort.

"Look, churchy -- why don't you get cleared, and I'll get TH here stuff to keep him entertained?" She looks back to Jonas. "I was thinking of smuggling a pet aboard. I'll bet that'd turn some heads." And get a certain trash panda in trouble.

"Yeah, because we don't know anything about each other." Jonas closes ranks with his fellow Aqauarian. Ironically, he'd do the same with Lyn, if she were here. "I thought you already had a pet.. or do you just drool around Karima for no reason?" he asks teasingly, before he nods. "Erin can fill in until Abigail has a chance to visit. Don't need to sweat it over me, Chaplain. Others need it more."

Aldrich looks back and forth between Jonas and Erin, as though trying to decide if he's supposed to feel insulted. In the end, he lets it go, and just gives a little shake of his head. "You know," he remarks, "I can understand now what she was talking about." He smiles, faintly. "Have it your way. If you need anything from the chapel, I'll be around." And with that, and a bit abruptly, he turns to go.

Clearly, there's no love lost between Erin and Aldrich, for whatever reason. Maybe she just hates chaplains.

"Krima's Krima." Shrug. "Maybe you can't appreciate what your eyes see? But I can, all right?" Snort. "Besides, I don't need a pet like that. That's stupid. No, I mean, like a cat or something. Something adorable and, I don't know, unpredictable at the same time." Beat. "I'll bet it'd hunt and kill all of those, uh, space mice that we have onboard, right? Like, space vermin."

Her eyes draw back to the retreating Aldrich. And narrow in his direction. No, the trash panda does not care for the chaplain. Evil tends to hate the pious.

"Yeah, good luck getting that by the staff." Jonas offers weakly, when Aldrich suddenly wheels about to leave. He reaches up to grab Erin's hand, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing it. There's a shake of his head. "No telling how Arda's painted me to him." he says quietly. "Probably the most terrible ex ever." he shrugs. "Wouldn't be undeserved."

"And actually, Chaplain. If you could.." Jonas offers in a request. "Some of those tension bands from the gym and small weights. I need to work on my strength." he starts to say and then glances up at Erin. "As for you, Trash Panda. Thanks for pulling my ass out of the fire. Appreciate that." He won't forget either.

Shortly after Aldrich and Erin leave, Jonas leans back on his bed. He's pretty well bandaged and immobile for the time being as he reaches over to take a pack of Triad cards to open and starts to sort upon his stomach as he shuffles them about.

Lyn slips into the Sickbay with two containers in her hands. She looks like she hasn't slept, because of course she hasn't. She went right to the galley to bake. Sleep is a terrifying prospect after facing a waking version of her nightmares down on Picon. She has the look of someone sleep-deprived and haunted. Seeing Jonas awake and moving is good at least, but she first moves to set a container of cookies next to Charlie's bed. Then she braves approaching Jonas'.

"Arda." Jonas can feel her presence, even after all of this time, there's something unique to her. Perhaps it's just the smell of baked good hanging off of the woman. "Aldrich went to find you." he offers with a glance towards the cieling before closing his eyes again to settle into the bed.

Lyn swallows at the mention of Aldrich looking for her. That seems to spook her a little too, because she did something epically stupid before the mission. She shoves the container at Jonas and the smell may be painfully familiar. Apple Brown Betty, her grandma's recipe she used to make when he was sick or hurt back at AST.

"Didn't have to do that, Lyn." Jonas manages quietly, "Won't be able to eat it for a while." he reaches for the ice chips, sipping on some of the melted water. "What happened?" it's a simple question, with a lot of connotations, but she knows exactly what he means.

"Can put it in the meds fridge. Just keep Kovac out of it," Lyn automatically responds. She moves to said fridge, grabs a marker off a nearby counter, and writes "TOXIC" on the lid, before putting it into the cooler. His question has her shoulders bunching as she moves back over to his bay. She doesn't sit. She just stands and crosses her arms over her chest, looking anywhere but Jonas. "Don't worry about it. Telling the brass it was my fault things went sideways. Probably get bumped down to Corporal." So she won't be in charge again.

"That's not what I asked, Marilyn Arda." For a brief moment, he sounds just like her father, perhaps Jonas did pick up on some of the old man's habits. "I asked what happened. Your head was on straight and then you just seemed to.. stop. What the frak. I'm not asking you to throw yourself on your sword. Or that I'm gonna do the same. But you owe me that much."

There he goes, using guilt to get her to talk. Just like her father. Lyn shifts her weight from one foot to the other, rocking a little. "Something that happened on Aquaria. Triggered me. Probably need another vacation in one of Anders padded rooms."

"What, Cylon patrols? We've all had frakking issues with those, Arda. That doesn't make a lick of sense. You switched off faster that Geoff out there." Jonas rumbles, and sighs. "It wouldn't be my concern, but your team? They're looking up to you."

Lyn cringes and her jaw sets as she finally looks at him. "You don't get to be my confessor any more," she says, quietly. It's not aggressive at all in tone, just sad and hollow and true. Years ago she'd have cried about it on his shoulder, but those shoulders are the territory of someone else now. "I'll talk to someone." Just not him. "I'm sorry I got you shot up. I take full responsibility for that."

"I'm asking as your second in command out there. Or did you forget that you ordered me to blow up a frakking building after you snapped. I did it because I trusted in you out there. Tell me it wasn't misplaced, Lyn." Jonas asks back, his own tone following hers. Because he needs to know.

"I thought you'd be stealthy about setting the charge and getting clear without being spotted," Lyn says in a quiet tone. "I made a mistake assuming you knew recon tactics. I should have been more specific. I was rattled. I should have relinquished command over to you."

Jonas sighs. "I'm not here to play the blame game. Shit happened. Just.. take care of yourself." Because next time it may not be just him. "I'm as stealthy as a herd of moose in a glass shop." he rolls his eyes and settles in to press the morpha button. "You needed a distraction, I tried, and got caught. Not your fault."

"I should have just had Costello take you back to the evac point and set the charge myself," Lyn insists. Though she'd probably have blown herself up instead of the building with her lack of demolitions experience. "I wasn't thinking clearly, and I should not have been in charge down there."

"You know, if I was able, I'd slap the shit out of you right now, Lyn." Jonas offers flatly. "You seem hellbent to blame everything that happened in your life on yourself or me. And it's neither of those things. Shit happens. We didn't work. That's noone's fault, it's just the way it came down. I got shot to shit last night, I zigged when I should have zagged. Sure, you, set charges? Do you really think I forgot that time you tried to set a controlled avalanche and buried our ride home and we had to walk?"

"I had a panic attack in a combat situation, Jonas. That isn't shit happening, that is me being a danger to a team," Lyn states simply. "And as you have repeatedly told me since you came aboard the Vanguard, I have to start taking responsibility for my frak ups." If you tell someone they were wrong enough, they begin to believe it.

"Your call. Just don't be surprised by the results or try to blame me." Jonas finally rumbles. He just.. gives up. There's no fight left in him for this, and after countless rounds, he's done.

"Can I go and get my paperwork done now?" Lyn asks, "Or will that get you accusing me of running away again?"

"You can do what you wish, Lyn. As you said, that's no longer my call." Jonas offers in response.

With that, she departs.


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