I need to do something. About the leg. I'm sick of not being able to handle my own stuff, and they say it helps with the - phantom limb bullshit. But I'd have to go back to medbay and it's freaking me out.
No, seriously on the verge of just disconnecting, and she only blames herself because seriously, Heather. You were expecting... what?
There's a big-ass pause, a quiet intake of breath and a very, very soft sigh.]
I want help convincing myself that going back to medbay and having them either clone a new leg for me or hook all my nerves up to a robot one is the best choice here. I want help believing that being fucking terrified by any of that is better than the alternative.
[LOOK IT'S REALLY HARD WHEN HE DOESN'T HAVE FACIAL CUES TO GO ON words are hard context is hard
but she takes her time and so he does as well.
Which is really good. Because he listens to what she has to say and doesn't freak the hell out. Just. Listens.
and then he opens his mouth and opinions spill out.]
Better than not being able to run when you'll need to. [Because she'll need to. One day.] Better than not having it. Rather you hafta chop it off again if it's fucked up, than - not. Having it.
[He's dancing around what he's been trying not to say for the past ever-since-she-lost-her-limb - fuck the leg and fuck how she feels about it, it's a disadvantage to her survival.]
[There's the clatter of her setting her communicator down, muffled speech as she rubs her hands over her face. Maybe the no facial cues thing is rough, but the tone in what she says next makes it absolutely clear she's not exaggerating.]
Well, at least he sounds confused - it's better than the dismissive she'd been preparing for, anyway. She catches that, but isn't quite together enough to catch the question woven into it.]
Going back. Getting cut up. Not waking up.
[Being put to sleep, rendered helpless in a place that makes her uncomfortable anyway. Submitting to something that will take away any suggestion of control and leave her vulnerable to anything that could possibly go wrong. It's not just the possibility of not waking that frightens her, it's all the steps that come before to make that an issue.]
[Another long pause, where she can probably hear the snick of his lighter, and he tries to see it how she must see it. (Tries being the key word.) The only thing he can really grasp is the fear of Alessa's that he lived through himself, though, jumps and jumps ago, and he's not sure if that's what Heather feels or not.
Probably, if she still hates Medbay like she does. With that in mind he attempts to cut it down to the one issue he can help with:]
I'll be there. Won't be by yourself. [...] Think Doctor Tam's good, if that's why you're... scared.
["think he's good" = super high praise, he's a big Simon Tam fan]
[It comes on a laugh, quiet and wry, because it's sweet of him - it really is - but she doesn't actually want him there for the part that scares her the most. There's an awful lot of shame and disgust still bubbling away inside of her over new lopsided frame, and the thought of exposing it without being able to carefully monitor his reaction is terrifying despite her being reasonably sure that's not even what he meant. It's not like surgery is a spectator sport, the don't just let people hang out in the operating room.
...they don't, right?]
It's not - I'm sure he is. I mean, I'm not dead. And he was really professional when I woke up. It's not that.
It's... hard for me to be okay with the idea of somebody changing something about me when I can't control it. Especially a doctor. I don't - have good memories. Of doctors.
[Because that's a really precise description and extremely helpful! Possibly more helpful: the snapshot of her surroundings that follows. She sure is holed up in that little clearing where he gave her the tulips.
Embarrassing, but she can use all the good memories she can get right now.]
[He's just gonna pretend he doesn't sound like a giant sap, there, and cuts the feed. 15 minutes later sees him stepping into the clearing, one lone flower sticking out of his pocket, eyes searching for her.]
[Speaking of saps. She's slumped over, leaning heavily on Hoi Hoi who at first glance probably appears to be asleep but is actually just perfectly content to play oversized teddy bear for her, but when she sees Netherlands approach her expression brightens immediately. Despite the state of worry she's worked herself into - or probably because of it - it's good to see him.]
[Damn it, that's adorable. Beneath the slight blush he's got going on, his face probably is shouting that he thinks it's adorable. He's not really sure if he cares, though, and pads over to where they are with a soft hey in return before crouching down and leaning in for cheek kisses. Only after cheek kisses are achieved will he sit down on his ass like a normal person and bashfully fish her flower out of his pocket (red carnation), handing it over while double checking to make sure she's okay.]
[Adorable is fine. He's pretty adorable himself, with the blush and the flower fishing, so after rubbing Hoi Hoi gently behind the ear and the kisses she snaps the stem short and tucks the flower behind her ear. That's okay, right? Or okay-ish? Nothing to worry about here. She reaches for his hand, threads her fingers through his.]
Thanks for coming. It's - I feel better having you here.
[Aaaand cue more blushing as he flounders a second for something to say before finally nodding. That's good, that she feels better, and he can't help but be a little flattered as well. He's still wearing gloves - oops - but he squeezes her hand anyway, doesn't pull away to pull them off.]
I uh. Don't like talking on those, anyway.
[sending a face of distaste toward his comms for a sec before glancing back at her, gently raising a brow. Sooooo. Where does she want to start.]
[There's almost an apology in there. Almost. The comms give her a degree of removal from the situation, a chance to say she's scared without being right in it, feeling totally exposed. But maybe it's not so bad when it's him. She ends up leaning on him instead of the panda, something that lets her tuck in close but hide her face at the same time.]
I know it's dumb. Doctor Tam isn't the same. I just don't like being... helpless.
[Oh. He's not expecting her to tuck in against him, but the surprise is only momentary and then swapped out for looking almost smug about the fact that she does. Pleased, at any rate, before he goes quiet and serious, turning over her words and ditching the first two responses that come to mind because those sound harsh even to him.
Cautiously - ]
Y'need a leg. Or... [clearing this throat,] something faster than crutches.
[There's a sense of his caution there - the laden quiet before he answers, the soft tread of his voice when he does. She's torn between being pleased that he's being careful with her, gentle in a way that at least to her perception is unique her and Takeshi, and being disappointed. There's a part of her that wants it hardline: you're being an idiot, you're helpless now, what if there's another fire/more pirates/those creepy alligator-dog things and there's nobody around to carry you? You'll die, and it'll be because you were too scared to make an easy choice.
She hums - to herself, to him, to Hoi Hoi who looks up at the beckoning wiggle of her fingers and moves closer to drape himself warmly against their odd-numbered collection of legs. Her hands ground her. One against Netherlands, one buried in the bear's fur. It's about as safe as she ever feels, these days.]
I keep getting stuck in a loop. I don't want one of the prosthetics because it's weird to think about being wired up to something. And I don't want a cloned one because that just seems gross. But I know what I do want isn't an option, here.
[It's partially because he does treat them more carefully, or at least attempts to; partially because upsetting her so much that she shuts him out isn't a risk he's willing to even so much as glance at, right now. They've both lost too much of their support on the ship to be knocking each other down. That said, it's not a conscious decision on his part at all. He wouldn't be able to explain why he's tiptoeing around when it goes against not only his nature but the nature of how they usually work, and when it takes so much effort - just that it feels right.
He's glad that she's bringing it up herself, though, before he has to. (Yes, he'd actually put a time limit down on the mental calendar.) In the meantime he's been doing his homework, is pretty prepared for this conversation, and is also pretty damn sure he knows what it is she wants - her own leg back.
But just in case that isn't what she meant he tips his head and raises a brow. Makes a little sound of prompting in the back of his throat while giving her shoulder a squeeze, and keeps his arm there.]
[Got it in one. She doesn't say it, though; looks up at him, opens her mouth, and it sticks in her throat. It's a stupid thing to want, one more thing in a long list and just about the least likely. She wants Takeshi back, nestled between them - and how much easier it would be if he was here, assuring her that a "robot leg" would make her the coolest. She wants Russia and his slow, sly smile, filling that gap in what Netherlands needs that is too big, too Nation-shaped for Heather to fill no matter how much she stretches. In the scale of it, I want my leg is as childish and as futile as I want my daddy.
She shakes her head briskly, blinking hard. She knows he knows what that indicates by now, but signaling that she's about to cry isn't as unproductive as actually crying so she presses her face against him, drags in deep breaths until the urge passes.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice;
Ah.
[aka go on]
no subject
I need to do something. About the leg. I'm sick of not being able to handle my own stuff, and they say it helps with the - phantom limb bullshit. But I'd have to go back to medbay and it's freaking me out.
no subject
...
...
hope Heather is okay with long silent stretches.]
Medbay's okay.
no subject
The answer? Not so much.]
Yeeeah. I was sorta hoping for a little more than that.
no subject
no subject
No, seriously on the verge of just disconnecting, and she only blames herself because seriously, Heather. You were expecting... what?
There's a big-ass pause, a quiet intake of breath and a very, very soft sigh.]
I want help convincing myself that going back to medbay and having them either clone a new leg for me or hook all my nerves up to a robot one is the best choice here. I want help believing that being fucking terrified by any of that is better than the alternative.
no subject
but she takes her time and so he does as well.
Which is really good. Because he listens to what she has to say and doesn't freak the hell out. Just. Listens.
and then he opens his mouth and opinions spill out.]
Better than not being able to run when you'll need to. [Because she'll need to. One day.] Better than not having it. Rather you hafta chop it off again if it's fucked up, than - not. Having it.
[He's dancing around what he's been trying not to say for the past ever-since-she-lost-her-limb - fuck the leg and fuck how she feels about it, it's a disadvantage to her survival.]
no subject
[There's the clatter of her setting her communicator down, muffled speech as she rubs her hands over her face. Maybe the no facial cues thing is rough, but the tone in what she says next makes it absolutely clear she's not exaggerating.]
I'm scared.
no subject
There's a pause, and then his words are laced straight through with confusion - he really, truly doesn't get it.]
Of. Of, um. What.
[And somewhere in that question - should he not be where he is? Should he be heading toward wherever she is?]
no subject
Well, at least he sounds confused - it's better than the dismissive she'd been preparing for, anyway. She catches that, but isn't quite together enough to catch the question woven into it.]
Going back. Getting cut up. Not waking up.
[Being put to sleep, rendered helpless in a place that makes her uncomfortable anyway. Submitting to something that will take away any suggestion of control and leave her vulnerable to anything that could possibly go wrong. It's not just the possibility of not waking that frightens her, it's all the steps that come before to make that an issue.]
no subject
Probably, if she still hates Medbay like she does. With that in mind he attempts to cut it down to the one issue he can help with:]
I'll be there. Won't be by yourself. [...] Think Doctor Tam's good, if that's why you're... scared.
["think he's good" = super high praise, he's a big Simon Tam fan]
no subject
[It comes on a laugh, quiet and wry, because it's sweet of him - it really is - but she doesn't actually want him there for the part that scares her the most. There's an awful lot of shame and disgust still bubbling away inside of her over new lopsided frame, and the thought of exposing it without being able to carefully monitor his reaction is terrifying despite her being reasonably sure that's not even what he meant. It's not like surgery is a spectator sport, the don't just let people hang out in the operating room.
...they don't, right?]
It's not - I'm sure he is. I mean, I'm not dead. And he was really professional when I woke up. It's not that.
It's... hard for me to be okay with the idea of somebody changing something about me when I can't control it. Especially a doctor. I don't - have good memories. Of doctors.
1/2
I know.
no subject
no subject
[Because that's a really precise description and extremely helpful! Possibly more helpful: the snapshot of her surroundings that follows. She sure is holed up in that little clearing where he gave her the tulips.
Embarrassing, but she can use all the good memories she can get right now.]
no subject
Okay.
[He's just gonna pretend he doesn't sound like a giant sap, there, and cuts the feed. 15 minutes later sees him stepping into the clearing, one lone flower sticking out of his pocket, eyes searching for her.]
no subject
Hey.
no subject
no subject
Thanks for coming. It's - I feel better having you here.
no subject
I uh. Don't like talking on those, anyway.
[sending a face of distaste toward his comms for a sec before glancing back at her, gently raising a brow. Sooooo. Where does she want to start.]
no subject
[There's almost an apology in there. Almost. The comms give her a degree of removal from the situation, a chance to say she's scared without being right in it, feeling totally exposed. But maybe it's not so bad when it's him. She ends up leaning on him instead of the panda, something that lets her tuck in close but hide her face at the same time.]
I know it's dumb. Doctor Tam isn't the same. I just don't like being... helpless.
no subject
Cautiously - ]
Y'need a leg. Or... [clearing this throat,] something faster than crutches.
no subject
She hums - to herself, to him, to Hoi Hoi who looks up at the beckoning wiggle of her fingers and moves closer to drape himself warmly against their odd-numbered collection of legs. Her hands ground her. One against Netherlands, one buried in the bear's fur. It's about as safe as she ever feels, these days.]
I keep getting stuck in a loop. I don't want one of the prosthetics because it's weird to think about being wired up to something. And I don't want a cloned one because that just seems gross. But I know what I do want isn't an option, here.
no subject
He's glad that she's bringing it up herself, though, before he has to. (Yes, he'd actually put a time limit down on the mental calendar.) In the meantime he's been doing his homework, is pretty prepared for this conversation, and is also pretty damn sure he knows what it is she wants - her own leg back.
But just in case that isn't what she meant he tips his head and raises a brow. Makes a little sound of prompting in the back of his throat while giving her shoulder a squeeze, and keeps his arm there.]
no subject
She shakes her head briskly, blinking hard. She knows he knows what that indicates by now, but signaling that she's about to cry isn't as unproductive as actually crying so she presses her face against him, drags in deep breaths until the urge passes.]
Gotta focus on what can happen, right?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)