On The Mend

Posted on Mar 20, 2016 @ 5:59pm by Commander Jacob Crichton
Edited on on Mar 20, 2016 @ 5:59pm

Mission: Fortress: Earth

= On The Mend =

(cont’d from “Transcripts”)

LOCATION: USS PHOENIX

SCENE: Sickbay

STARDATE: [2.16] 0320.1351

When Jake Crichton regained consciousness, he was lying on his back on a bio-bed, under the familiar harsh lighting of the PHOENIX’s sickbay. He felt a tightness in his shoulder, and a kind of general drowsiness that seemed to keep his head stuck to his pillow. Fighting against it, Jake managed to raise his head high enough to get a look at his shoulder. It was exposed, and Jake could still make out the pink outline of scar tissue, long and jagged, from where his double at stabbed him. It looked like most of the damage had been repaired.

The last thing Jake remembered was carrying the other Crichton on his back, up the docking ramp of the Annabelle’s Lament. He reasoned that, if he was aboard the PHOENIX, their gambit with the Lament’s engines must have worked. Even though the other Crichton had tried to murder him, Jake had to admit his plan had been a good one.

Jake heard voices approaching, and he turned to see Cade Foster leading Dahlia and Ben over towards his bio-bed.

“Good morning, monkeywrench,” Foster said, sounding grumpy. “I think these belong to you.”

Dahlia and Ben ran the remaining distance towards Jake’s biobed. Dahlia had the good sense to stop, but Ben was halfway up the side of the bed and into Jake’s lap before Dahlia caught him.

“Not now, dummy,” Dahlia chastised. “He’s hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Jake said, smiling reassuringly at both of them.

“See?” Ben said, grinning triumphantly back at his sister. “He’s fine.”

Dahlia took the rebuke in dignified silence, and did not release her grip on her brother’s hand. Ben look defeated, but eventually stopped fidgeting. Jake gave the boy a rueful shrug, then winked at Dahlia.

“How long was I out?” Jake asked, looking at Foster.

“Twelve hours, give or take,” Foster said. “The cut was bad, but we got it patched without much trouble. Blood loss was the primary concern. If Jos hadn’t been there to plug up the wound, you’d never have made it back to the ship.”

“Uh, Doctor,” Jake said, glancing at his kids. Dahlia looked concerned, but Ben didn’t seem to be paying attention.

“You asked,” Foster said, sounding annoyed. “Not my fault you forgot the bedwetters were standing there.”

“I don’t wet the bed,” Ben said, sounding offended.

“I asked how long I was out,” said Jake.

“I… extrapolated,” Foster said, waving Jake’s point off. “Glad you’re feeling better, Crichton. Not everyone can say the same.”

Jake frowned. “Varn?”

“Actually, I was talking about Ensign Perry,” Foster said, staring icy daggers over his shoulder at Jake. “But now that you mention it, I guess Varn’s pretty messed up too.”

Foster stalked away, and Jake let him go. It wasn’t easy to lose a member of your team, even a new one, and for all his bristly exterior, Cade Foster felt that loss as acutely as anyone else. Jake didn’t like the man, and probably never would, but he knew what Foster was going through. Jake could still see the terrified look on Sam Perry’s eyes, that mixture of confusion and horror as the Promethean Device started to…

Jake pushed the image out of his mind.

=[/\]=

Jake spent the rest of the day in bed, recuperating. Foster was cold company, so Jake spent much of the time sleeping, and trying not to dream about the things he’d seen on LAVENZA II. Whatever drugs Foster had put him gave his dreams an oddly detached feeling, which took much of the edge off his nightmares. Jake would awaken with vague memories of dread that quickly melted under the glare of sickbay’s lights.

He’d had several visitors. Rochemonte, Maynell, and Chaucer had all stopped by. Rochemonte had fretted, asking about his injury and making sure he was comfortable. Maynell looked awkward, but asked all the necessary questions and made the necessary wishes for a speedy recovery. Chaucer stood by, his eyes flitting around the room as he followed the conversation, and limited his verbal contribution to a single [[My name is Chaucer.]]

Then they had gone, and Jake had returned to sleep. When he awoke again, Captain Kane standing by his bedside. When he saw that Jake had awakened, Kane smiled, and reached out to rest a reassuring hand on Jake’s uninjured shoulder.

“Nice to still have you with us, commander,” Kane said.

“Captain,” Jake said. “Nice to to still be here.”

“I trust Dr. Foster is taking good care of you?” Kane asked.

“I think he’s been deliberately sedating me,” Jake said with a laugh. “But I think I might thank him for it.”

“Catch up on your rest, Jake,” Kane said. “You know what comes next.”

“Yeah,” Jake said.

“I read Commander Jos’s report,” Kane said. “I know about the other you.”

“The other Crichton,” Jake said. “Not the other me. I know that distinction might not make sense, but-”

“I think I understand,” Kane said. “I wanted to make sure you were alright. Perhaps a session with Counselor Dalziel--”

“Captain, my team came by to fill me in,” Jake said. “I know about how the other Crichton got ahold of Major Thytos’s gun. He’s the reason the Lament got away.”

“Yes,” Kane said. “It was a desperate situation for everyone involved.”

“He wouldn’t have been there if I’d have left him behind,” Jake said. “I should have. He tried to kill me, I had no reason to risk my life to save him. And by doing it, I put everyone else at risk too.”

“Could you have really left him behind?” Kane asked. “Forgive the captain his presumption, but I don’t think you’re that kind of man, Mr. Crichton.”

Jake sighed. “I guess not. But… I could have lost everything. My life, my kids… and in that moment, it didn’t matter. I didn’t care how much I had to lose. I saw the other me- the other Crichton - lying there and I knew I couldn’t leave him behind. I knew he didn’t deserve it, he had betrayed us once and he’d do it again, he was a danger to the crew, but I couldn’t-”

“Jake, I can’t give you absolution, because you haven’t done anything wrong,” Kane said. “He didn’t hurt anyone. The pirates escaped, but not with the data. I’m not saying doing the right thing won’t ever blow up in your face, but this time it didn’t.”

“And next time?” Jake asked.

“I could give you a lecture, if you wanted,” Kane said. “Tell you you’re a father, you have to take care of yourself. You’re not some ruddy-cheeked ensign fresh out of the Academy anymore, you’re a respected officer and people look to you as an example. I could tell you to knock it off with the nicknames, to stop overloading yourself with extra shifts. I could tell you all of that… and then, the second you see someone in trouble and you’re in a position to help, all of it would go right out of your head in an instant.”

Kane smiled. “You are who you are, Jake. You’re a good man, and I can use that. You’re a fine officer. More than that you have been… something of a conscience to us all, since this began.”

“Sir?”

“It hasn’t always been an easy voyage,” Kane said. “The Federation gutted, us cut off from support and on the run. The easy path has sometimes been tempting. But you never take the easy path, and I think that’s the thing about you I have come to count on the most. It’s appreciated, Mr. Crichton… you have nothing to apologize for.”

Kane gave him a final reassuring nod, then turned to leave Jake alone. Not long after, the drowsiness came back, and Jake drifted back to sleep. Tomorrow, he’d be back to work, back to the fight against the Neo-Essentialists, against Edgerton, against all the things that had gone wrong in the last three years.

But for tonight, there was sleep, and it was enough.

=[/\]=

Shawn Putnam

A.k.a.

Jake Crichton

Chief Engineering Officer

USS PHOENIX