Posted by Major General Charles Tenkiller (Vice-Commander, Colonial Customs and Defense Agency) in Tenkiller’s House- Tipping Point, Day 2

Posted by Civilian Yavia Crockett (Nurse - Sacred Heart Hospital) in Tenkiller’s House- Tipping Point, Day 2

Posted by Major General Charles Tenkiller (Vice-Commander, Colonial Customs and Defense Agency) in Tenkiller’s House- Tipping Point, Day 2
Posted by… suppressed (4) by the Post Ghost! 👻

(snip)

It was the first time anyone had labelled Cory’s behaviour. Abusive. The word felt so strong that Eela actually took a step back, her eyes wide. Sure, if she stepped outside of the situation (not only the scene at her apartment but all the lead up before then too) she could point out the patterns of emotional manipulation to someone else. But that hadn’t applied to her. Of course not, don’t be silly.

But reality was smack dab in her face and there was nowhere to run to, nowhere to flee. She was always seeking safety, and apparently so was her anger. The strange part was that the places she had felt the most safe were the ones where there was the most risk. No, taking those risks, especially with her life, felt comfortable. It wasn’t the same as safety.

Blowing out a breath, Eela said nothing as she turned away, her hand once again brushing the kick bag. In this holographic space where she could take whatever action she wanted Eela knew one thing for certain: she couldn’t enact violence on Cory, not even a photo of him. It wasn’t her, and in her mind violence begot violence. If she wanted to be done with it all, she had to change the entire script.

On the other side of the room she had a small table generated lined with glasses turned upside down. Eela took one tentatively and held it at her side. One glass for every lie, for every disappointment, for every loss that swallowed her. She threw the glass in a tentative motion, testing the waters as it were. It cracked and broke in large pieces when it hit the wall. She blew out a breath and reached for another, throwing it with more force. Pieces shattered against the wall, falling to the floor. Eela grabbed another, and another, and another, throwing harder each time, assigning something specific to each one. The loss of her ship. The 232 members of who crew who died in that last battle. Her broken back. Her mucked up brain. Her stolen Starfleet career, her captain’s chair. The lack of dignity of some smart ass admiral telling her she wasn’t fit for active ship duty while she was still doing physical rehab in the hospital and trying to walk properly (that jerk got two glasses).

On and on it went and Eela barely paused, barely registered the twisting motion she was doing with her body, nor the wrenching motion that was entirely the reverse of when Cory had grabbed her. She just kept having the computer add more glasses. Eela didn’t even register the one where she actually let out a scream of frustration.

Finally she stopped, holding one last glass, her chest heaving and an exhaustion she couldn’t even name washed over her, even as something had shifted. It wasn’t lighter exactly, but it was defiant. It was more fully that moment where she had signed the restraining order. It had seeped into her. Eela lifted the glass in her hand and threw it with less force, whispering, “I miss my son.”

She stood there staring at the pile of glass (and was it ever a pile!) and the sum total of so many things that had gone wrong. A part of her wanted to sink to the floor, disappear into the mat, but no, she stood there staring at the shards of her life, or rather the pieces she no longer needed, that no longer served. It wasn’t going to remove her regrets, or make everything better, but it was a start.

Eela rolled her shoulders back and winced. Her right shoulder hurt, as did her back. “Jal’na’s going to cheer me on and then give me hell, I just know it,” she said, her tone far lighter, if not as amused as the words might have otherwise come out.

~Eela

Sharah’s attention was split. She needed to be somewhere else. Instead she was here. Which she needed to be too. Sharah had never been so torn.

Upstairs, Yavia stood in the den staring at the closed door. Without visual or physical contact Yavia’s empathy didn’t reach. That was starting to change but for her it simply wasn’t strong enough for her liking yet. She knew he was hurting and she couldn’t help. This was his home, their home. He should not feel like this here.

Sharah, focused on Eela again. “You are absolutely right she will. So I suggest a ling hot soak before your back freezes up.” She paused breathing, to focus on one thing at a time. “Eela, I understand you were upset over the video, and that right now you don’t want to be Lt Gov. You don’t have to be. You don’t have to get out un front of this. You have Cort, Cot McBride, Gov Hyrushi who can handle the media for you, while you heal…and I say this as the Chief Medical Officer and your friend - keep in mind the whole scenario. A person assaulted the 2nd highest ranking person in the colony. The HIGHEST star fleet officer. This cannot be tolerated. Politically and personally. If that as swept under the rug and hidden no one would feel they had anyone to go to if it happened to them. More importantly a woman of this colony was hurt. She matters as much as anyone else. What was done was protocol. They didn’t scare him. If it had been Fleet security, they would have acted in the same manner. Everyone has been thinking of you. You are not in this alone. Ask…ask one of them to handle the media for you. Call this…Roger or your daughter. Tell them the truth. We are all here for you.”

Eela wanted to say something, but the words were stuck both in her mind and throat. Sharah’s words told her that no, she didn’t understand why she was upset about the video. None of them did, because they were looking at it from a practical point of view. A place of action. This wasn’t about a practical matter. It was an emotional one related to consent.

Sharah didn’t sigh but her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry Eela, I know I don’t understand. I feel what you feel, I hear your thoughts, but I don’t know what you are going through. I want to help, but I think I am making it worse. For that I am truly sorry. It was not my nor anyone else’s intent. Just let me know whatever you need or want.”

“Stay down here as long as you need. Get a hot soak, make some calls. Call the one who’s messages make you smile. I’m here if you need anything. I have to go take care of something though.”

Eela just nodded silently and she turned to stare at the pile of holographic glass that represented her anger. She should feel better, but she didn’t. She was less angry though, so that was good. Now though? She was just sad. Terribly, terribly sad. And she had some difficult calls to make. Maybe she could get both Dee and Roger on at once so she didn’t have to repeat it so many times. She didn’t remember grabbing her comm on the way down, but… habits she supposed. She sent a message to Roger: | Yes, he was here. No, it was not good. I’m safe but I’m not okay. Get Dee and I can fill you both in? Tell her I’m sorry she found out that way. It wasn’t how I wanted anyone to find out, but it was not my choice. |

~Eela

---

Charles sat in silence in the studio. He kept thinking about what Eela had said. It had hurt. And it brought back many of the feelings he had had when he left Star Fleet. Not being heard. Not being seen. His actions viewed through a filter that had no room for any other perspective than what the viewer wanted. Mind you, he knew she didn’t mean to hurt him. And he knew that she was talking out of fear and anger. And he knew, in a way, she was right.

Didn’t help him feel any better.

He took a breath and closed his eyes and started, very softly, to sing. It was a song in his tribe’s native tongue. It was about family, and trust, and helping when another is down. As he sang, he could start to feel the Oklahoma sun on his face, smell the trees and grass in the air… and as he reached the end he choked out the last few lines as the tears ran down his cheeks.

Tenkiller

Sharah went up the stairs and stopped in the kitchen, moving things off the stove and then took Yavia with her into the den and knocked softly on the door. ‘Charles? Can we come in?‘

Sharah

There was no answer. Not for a long time. Then the door opened slightly, as if it had been blown barely open by an unfelt gust of wind.

Charles ‘Skip’ Tenkiller was many things. Stubborn. Sarcastic. Tenacious with a problem. And an unstoppable force when he was defending those who needed it. One thing he was not, though… was stupid.

He knew both women could feel what he was feeling. He knew Sharah could hear his mind, even as he thought I just want to be alone. Is that too much to ask when they knocked. He also knew that they loved him and he loved them. He looked at the door, his eyes still shining but the tears had stopped and he just said “Hey.”

Tenkiller

They didn’t go in, just stood at the door and they each took on of his hands, creating that circle. Yavia spoke quietly. “We’re sorry, we know you had the door shut. We just wanted you to know you don’t have to be alone unless you want to be.” It was difficult because they felt how he was hurting and they did love him. And it was an unknown situation and they didn’t quite know what they should do, only that they wanted to do what would help.

Yavia

“I messed up.” he said after a moment.. “I made a mistake. And I took a bad situation and made it worse. I just need a while to sort that out, okay?” He squeezed their hands. “I’m okay, just want to get my mind right.” and then he turned and headed back into the studio, letting the door swing closed slowly behind him.

Tenkiller

The weight of the conversation with Roger and Caridee lingered but Eela took deep breaths to push it down a bit. Right now she needed to be more clear-headed and maybe to control her emotions a bit better so she could communicate properly with people. The risk right now was that she would alienate those wanting to help her and adding turmoil to the situation would not get anyone anywhere.

Moving back up the stairs to the kitchen, Eela did not go have a soak. Instead she made her way to the stove and went about straining the one decoction into a larger spray bottle. She also turned on the other pot so she could make the concentrate that she could drop into corners and along entry ways that would create e apeaceful perimeter.

~Eela