Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman First Class) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins

Posted by Commander Roman Alden (First Officer & Chief Science Officer) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins

Posted by Ensign Rand Farquharson (Yeoman First Class) in side - sim: Paying for Our Sins
Posted by… suppressed (5) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)
Rand let him have her hand but he was twisted around to reach, so she moved toward his side. She used her other hand to rest around him and help him lean back a little. That way he could rest but sit up enough to drink. Not knowing what else to do she started squeezing his hand again. She hoped Roman would just eat the orange so Randy would stop threatening him. Of course, Rand could tell it wasn’t an empty threat. Randy was quite serious which meant Roman needed it. He wasn’t eating enough and now that Randy had taken scans, it was obvious how much Roman was not eating. Rand didn’t say anything. She had promised not to nag, and apparently she couldn’t help herself because she kept doing it.

Roman noticed Rand’s refusal to say anything. Either it wasn’t that serious, or she was angry, or she’d grown tired of his issues and just didn’t care anymore. His nervousness made him combative. Unwilling to take his right hand away from his chest, he let go of her hand and used his left to pick up and drink the water, still ignoring the orange slices.

She wasn’t mad at him and she wasn’t tired of his issues. Quite the opposite, actually. He was mad at her. She didn’t know what to do or say to make it better, so she stayed quiet for fear of making the whole situation worse. Rand knew she could have not told him about the medicine. The morning had been so…wonderful, but she had hated the way Roman and Randy had hid things from her, so she wasn’t going to do that to Roman. She’d messed up and ruined everything. She didn’t know what else she should have done, but she’d messed everything up.

Roman eventually gave up and attempted one of the orange slices. He was angry about the hypo but it wasn’t… He didn’t want it to be like this. He just wanted to be done with it.

Once the water was gone and orange slices attempted, Randy let him get up. He wasn’t thrilled about it, but Roman’s heart rate had levelled out. Randy was worried about his blood pressure as he stood so kept the tricorder on. Roman could rest better in his quarters. “If you feel like you might fall, you grab me not her.” Rand looked like she might fall over too. Randy was going to give her and her concussion a good once over once Roman was settled.

As Roman’s heart rate had levelled, the aching in his chest had calmed. It still felt tight and achy but not like before. He stood from the chair and took a few steps… And that was when the dizziness hit. His blood pressure dropped, that was the cause of it, and the result? Roman reached out for Rand by reflex, then Randy saying “grab me, not her” registered, so he turned and slapped a hand onto his desk anyway, narrowly avoiding a fall to the floor.

“Roman!” Her voice rushed out. He couldn’t mistake the love and fear for him in her voice. Rand grabbed him when he reached for her; she didn’t care what Randy said. She wrapped her arms around his waist holding him tightly as she leaned against the desk for extra support. “Faodaidh tu grèim a chumail orm. Chan eil dragh agam dè tha Randy ag ràdh.” She whispered as she looked up into his face.

Randy was only worried that if Rand couldn’t hold Roman’s weight she’d fall and maybe hit her head again. He had reached out as well as Roman began to fall. He kept a hand on his shoulder for the extra support. His sister’s words made him grin. That was more like it. Randy wondered if they were fighting. Was that why they were acting so tense?

Hands reached for him from what felt like all directions. In the end, Rand was up against him, her arms around his waist, and Randy’s hand on his shoulder. He still seemed like he felt dizzy, not focusing his eyes on anything specific. It took him a moment to translate what Rand was saying to him, and then he smiled and nodded, putting an arm around her to support himself.

They went at Roman’s pace to the lift and up to deck 3, Randy making sure that pace was slow.

Rand

Roman was trying to push himself with the pace, but Randy kept it slow. It helped Randy control the pace that Roman seemed to need his help. When they reached his quarters, he plopped onto the bed.

~ Roman

Randy helped him sit and then looked at Rand. “How about a wet cloth and then clean clothes for him.” Rand nodded silently and hurried to get what Randy asked for. When she did Randy looked at her and pointed at the bathroom. “Go, shower, change, whatever. Then you and I are having a long conversation about defying doctor’s orders.” He gave Roman the cloth and the clothes. “Would you like help? Or should I go get her food?”

Rand

“I’ll be fine. She needs food.” Roman set the cloth on the table and grabbed the clothes. He didn’t want to get dizzy and fall again, but he also didn’t want Randy to think he needed help so he gave Randy a look, “Shoo, so I can change.”

~ Roman

Randy nodded, knowing he really didn’t need to tell Roman to be careful, but his look told Roman anyway. “I’ll be back.”

Roman stood slowly, one hand on the table, and then had to very carefully start changing.

A few minutes after Randy left Rand appeared from the bathroom, wrapped in her robe. Her hair was damp, hanging loosely, not yet brushed or braided. Her brush was still on Roman’s table, like it had been since she’d been hurt. She moved over to the counter and began making tea, anything to keep her hands busy rather than wringing them nervously. She glanced at him several times, the tension (of her own making) made her shoulders feel like they would snap.

Rand

He wasn’t fully changed by the time Rand was out of the bathroom. It had taken him long enough to undress, he was still stepping into the pants when she came out. Then he slipped the shirt on. He grabbed the hair brush off the table and headed over by her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Want me to brush your hair today?” His voice was soft, caring. He wanted to do her hair for her. He liked doing it for her.

~ Roman

Roman’s hand rested on her shoulder and for a quarter of a second she held still before some of the tension left her, and she leaned back against him. She shouldn’t, he was struggling, he’d needed Randy’s help all the way up from deck 9, but she leaned into him anyway. She couldn’t help herself. He needed to sit, and she opened her mouth to say so, but his voice stopped her. Rand turned to look up at him, surprised and hopeful. The tea forgotten, her hand rested instinctually over his heart.

Roman had to lean on the counter next to him when she leaned into him. Still, he put his arms around her, hands on her back, one still holding the hair brush, and smiled down at her. His heart was pounding painfully, but he was ignoring it. Making her happy was more important to him.

She did, very much want him to brush her hair. Was he asking because he felt obligated or because he wanted to? Was she supposed to say yes, or tell him no and relieve him of burden he didn’t want? She hated the anxiety and indecision that raced through her. He was holding her brush but hadn’t offered it to her? Did that mean something?

It felt like forever as the thoughts raced through her head, reflected in her eyes and her expression, rather than hidden. In reality her response was immediate. She nodded her head. She tried to say yes, but her head felt slightly fuzzy and she couldn’t get the word out. Instead it came out in Gaelic. “Tha.” She didn’t move; she didn’t want to. She wanted words, words that would fix this, but she didn’t have them. She didn’t know where to find them. Then suddenly remembering he really shouldn’t be standing, she moved over to the bed and sat down.

Rand

Roman moved with her, using her as a support as they headed back to the bed. Then he sat behind her, slowly and carefully working the brush through her hair, bottom to top, stopping occasionally to run his fingers through it, because he knew she liked when he did that.

~ Roman

Rand did like it. These moments were always quietly intimate in a way that comforting and reassuring. The first time Roman had brushed her hair had been in sickbay. Randy had washed her hair with some kind of dry shampoo and her hair had fizzed and poofed out everywhere. Roman’s attempt had been slightly successful considering she’d had to lay down, unable to really sit up. The next time her hair had been more like a nest. It had taken Roman around an hour to brush it all out. He had sat on her biobed and had her lay her head on his shoulder. She hadn’t been able to sit up on her own and with the burns on her hands and arms she never would have been able to hold the brush well. Despite how gentle Roman had been, each stroke of the brush had sent pain and dizziness from her head straight to her stomach. He had been patient and taken his time. Rand thought she might have even fallen asleep against him at one point. Roman had been doing this ever since.

It made her feel better, calmed the nerves and sorted out some of the confusion knowing he was the one making sure she wasn’t alone. Rand was quiet while he worked, though that wasn’t unusual. This had always been a mostly quiet activity for them. Unlike earlier though, this silence was familiar and lacked the tension and awkwardness that had been present. She enjoyed the gentle rhythmic tug of the brush on her hair, and then the warm chill that would race down her spine each time he combed his fingers through the strands. But when he started working near where she hit her head she had to fight not to flinch. Roman was careful as ever, but her head hurt more than normal. A sudden wave of dizziness caught her by surprise leaving her feeling woozy and she inhaled sharply.

Rand

Roman ran the brush gently and carefully through her hair. He knew her head was still sore at times, so he was still very gentle. He’d had experience before doing girl’s hair.

Lucy, his only younger sibling, had gone through a phase when she was seven or eight (and Roman would have been eight or nine, then), that she didn’t like doing her own hair. She’d throw a child’s tantrum every morning. So Roman had offered to do it for her. He’d ended up doing her hair every day for nearly a year, and then occasionally after that until Lucy was fourteen or so. It was one of few good memories of his family.

When she inhaled sharply and seemed to flinch he stopped and set a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you need ice or…?”

~ Roman