Steve Burnside (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
craaazyisland) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92009-11-10 09:19 pm
craaazyisland) wrote in trans_92009-11-10 09:19 pm
Entry tags:
I've got a disease, deep inside me [totally open]
[ooc: Rather than spam the boards with posts for my characters, this thread takes place a few days after everything quiets down in the medbay. If your character wants to speak to either Luis or Steve, this is the place. I won't have the two of them respond to each other (I'm not quite that tasteless), so let me know who you've come a-callin' for. Alternate thread title: I Can't Believe It's Not Muncest.]
In an isolated bed near the back of the medbay, a teenage boy lay restrained. Anyone who'd caught a glimpse of Steve on the day of the incident would have said he looked much better, but he still looked like hell-- bloodless, clammy skin misted with a thin sheen of sweat, veins standing out dark and purple, a facial expression that read he had been sleeping for quite a while and could stand to sleep for quite a while longer. His right shoulder was tightly bandaged, as was his left hand, and a loose bandage had been wrapped around his head to cover his left eye. His hands were still strapped down to the bed and an IV was feeding into his arm, but it looked like the energy and the color were slowly returning to the skinny redhead.
Now if only it wasn't so goddamn boring in here.
There wasn't even the comfort of constant conversation. Dr. Sera kept busy looking out for the injured all over the medbay, and didn't seem much for talk anyway. Any time he didn't spend hunched over the laboratory equipment in the back of the room he spent sort of muttering to himself, staring at charts, or making thinly veiled passes at the female visitors to the medbay. He did have the decency not to hit on the injured.
Still, his brain was fully entrenched in Science Mode and anybody who needed to speak to him would need to flag him down.
In an isolated bed near the back of the medbay, a teenage boy lay restrained. Anyone who'd caught a glimpse of Steve on the day of the incident would have said he looked much better, but he still looked like hell-- bloodless, clammy skin misted with a thin sheen of sweat, veins standing out dark and purple, a facial expression that read he had been sleeping for quite a while and could stand to sleep for quite a while longer. His right shoulder was tightly bandaged, as was his left hand, and a loose bandage had been wrapped around his head to cover his left eye. His hands were still strapped down to the bed and an IV was feeding into his arm, but it looked like the energy and the color were slowly returning to the skinny redhead.
Now if only it wasn't so goddamn boring in here.
There wasn't even the comfort of constant conversation. Dr. Sera kept busy looking out for the injured all over the medbay, and didn't seem much for talk anyway. Any time he didn't spend hunched over the laboratory equipment in the back of the room he spent sort of muttering to himself, staring at charts, or making thinly veiled passes at the female visitors to the medbay. He did have the decency not to hit on the injured.
Still, his brain was fully entrenched in Science Mode and anybody who needed to speak to him would need to flag him down.
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"Thanks... for listening. You're pretty good at it."
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He relaxed and smiled at Steve. "Want me to stick around until you fall asleep?"
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"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "Only if you don't mind?"
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As he spoke, the Jedi gathered the Force around him and reached out to Steve, projecting calm and soothing feelings toward the young man. Hopefully, it would ease him into sleep and help his dreams be more pleasant ones.
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