trans_9 | There's got to be a morning after [VERY OPEN]

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There's got to be a morning after [VERY OPEN]

It took a few moments for any thoughts to register for Steve when he opened his eyes. He recognized the inside of a quarantine bubble, that was for sure, but it took him longer to recognize the medical equipment hooked up to him, an IV in his arm and bandages wrapped around his bare shoulder and in a few other spots.

It didn't take long to recognize the feeling of having been run over by a truck, either. Every bone in his body ached, and even the slightest movement made him want to groan. It felt like he'd been asleep for a month-- a dreamless sleep, preceded by blurry, disconnected memories of what felt like a dream.

Memories of something he desperately, desperately hoped was just a dream. He had a sinking feeling it wasn't and part of him knew it to be the truth. But desperately hoping was the only way he could keep himself from screaming, which would hurt, so he'd keep on with that desperate hope anyway.

Steve lay awake and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if he stayed quiet they'd think he was still asleep, and he could put the truth and all the fear and sorrow that came with it off a while longer.

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"It's not your fault," he responded automatically.

And then he second-guessed what he said. Wasn't this the kid who also woke him up in the middle of the night acting weird? Yzak thought it might have had to do with the rage virus that had hit a number of people. Still, he didn't want to just assume anything-- and he had a feeling asking if that was a literal sorry might hit a sore spot. Though the quick fluctuation of expressions across his face might hint at his thoughts.

Steve just stared blankly at him for a moment.

"You do know that I was the monster, right?"

"Well, the way you said what you just said..." he trailed off.

"I didn't know beforehand, though. They didn't go into specifics."

Yzak shifted a bit uncomfortably. Awkward. Not that he was scared of something else happening, but he couldn't really imagine how Steve probably felt. To an extent, maybe, but this entire situation was something otherworldly to him.

Well, that was a relief at least. Though unless there were a lot of other redheads capable of mutating into Tyrants around here, Steve was pretty sure it would only be a matter of time before the jig was up.

"Yeah. Well. I'm... sorry," he murmured under his breath. "For everything."

Yzak would have crossed his arms, but since he wasn't keen on too much movement of his left arm still, he settled to rest his right hand on his hip, drumming his fingers.

"Was it something you were in control of? Doesn't sound like it."

"No," Steve replied, sounding just a bit irritable. "I've been fighting the damn virus ever since I woke up. And I finally lost."

"In that case, I doubt anybody wouldn't accept an apology if they were hurt." As opposed to making conscious choices ... Yzak figured this was something a little easier to forgive. He wasn't sure if that'd help Steve feel any better, but that was how he felt either way.

But he was still curious... "Virus?"

The secret was out anyway. "I have the T-Veronica virus," he explained. "It turns people into monsters if it gets out of control. It's probably a miracle I made it as long as I did without flipping out."

Yzak saw for himself that monster meant literal giant green monster, rather than just a term he'd only heard tossed around in racism if it wasn't outside of some form of fiction.

He wanted to ask if something like what happened would happen again ... but other than the fact that Steve might not actually know, he didn't want to scare him about something that might not happen again so soon. The crew worked and managed to create some sort of suppressant, so that could be on the right path to a full out cure or stopper.

"I see," was all he managed to get out before he stayed silent for too long. "And? How are you feeling now? With the virus, I mean."

"Same as always."

Steve folded his arms a bit moodily. "Though the suppressant they made works, so. I probably won't have to worry about this shit again."

"That's good."

And then something dawned on Yzak, suddenly, looking in at Steve. Well, at the bandages on him, anyway. Yzak's face twisted into an awkward look.

"... Um. I guess I should apologize, too..."

"For what?" Steve replied. "For shooting at me? I don't even remember it and I can't really blame you, so you don't have to apologize for anything."

"Still," he retorted. "You might be in slightly better shape now if I hadn't."

Of course, Yzak himself could be dead if he hadn't ... but that was beside the point.

"I'm not that hurt," Steve pointed out. He'd done a little poking around the various bandages on him, discovering only two or three gunshot wounds.

"The stupid virus makes me heal fast. Mostly I'm lying here because it turns out having every bone in your body change shape twice fucking hurts."

Twice?

Yzak wondered briefly if this happened on Stacy before. But if this T-Veronica virus was something from the world Steve came from... Well. It didn't really matter too much now, did it? Steve said it himself; they most likely wouldn't have to worry about it happening again.

"Oh. Right. I didn't think of that..." Yzak cringed inwardly, just imagining the feeling of changing his shape so drastically.

Steve shrugged his shoulder a bit, and visibly winced as he did.

"At least I didn't keel over this time," he muttered. Maybe he was trying to shock Yzak or just emphasize how terrible his situation was to make him feel bad. Or maybe the thought had been haunting him for a while and he had to express it to the first convenient person. Who knew?

"Keel over?"

Now that was a strange thing to say, though the message got through to him clearly enough. People have died here before, and there was no power able to bring them back. On the other hand, when it came to waking up on Stacy... and how old was Steve? Maybe a couple of years younger than he was, but he was probably a Natural. To have to deal with shit like that and then die at that age...

"Yeah. Last time it killed me," he replied. "So I guess that's something. Though it might have been better if it did kill me, I'm sure some people will say."

"I wouldn't count on that," he said, shifting his position slightly. "If it's not going to happen again now, and since the outcome wasn't as bad as it could have been, then it doesn't matter as long as long as there's that bit of extra help on this ship."

Sure, Yzak thought, there'd be crewmembers who'd possibly avoid Steve as a result of this ... but that was their business. And as long as their feelings weren't getting in the way of taking care of more important things, he knew at least he wouldn't give a damn if he were in that position.

"Yeah, trust me, dude. Nobody's going to let how useful I am get in the way of kicking me out an airlock," Steve assured him. "I can't do anything around here."

"And what if somebody had died? You wanna tell me they'd just be like, 'Oh well, no big deal'?"

"I doubt that," he replied honestly. "If someone died, I'm sure people would have been a lot more angry. Maybe they wouldn't have even bothered bringing you here to heal."

Shrugging, he rubbed his arm. "But that didn't happen."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

He rolled his eyes and glared pointedly in the opposite direction from Yzak. "I just want to be left alone. Nobody cared about me before all this bullshit happened, they should go back to not caring about me."

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There's got to be a morning after [VERY OPEN]

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