Lt Alex Storm - The Man Behind the Mask

[Karen Morris]

(( Primary Sickbay, Deck 7 – USS Artemis-A ))

Being a Betazoid had its perks. Mind-reading aside, modesty wasn’t something their society concerned itself with. But Alex had learned early at the Academy that modesty wasn’t just about her comfort—it was about everyone else’s.

Which posed an interesting dilemma—because in sickbay, there was no such thing as modesty. Only degrees of it. For Roy’s sake, at least this new gown afforded her a greater amount of modesty than the previous two she had tried.  

She lifted herself onto the biobed, letting her legs swing back and forth while each hand rested beside her on its edge.  Pulling her hair over her shoulder, she called out.  

Storm:  Okay.  You’re safe to come in.

She waited for the privacy screen to part.  In stepped Roy trying to appear nonchalant.

Bancroft: ::smiling:: I was unprepared for how much drama a single exam gown could generate, but I appreciate your commitment to making this afternoon memorable.

Alex sat up a little taller.  Laughter spread across her face in the shape of a grin.

Storm:  I’d think that if I hadn’t said anything, there would have been much more drama when you entered.  Or at least a good deal of shock if not drama.

Instead of responding, he immediately went about his work.  Alex wasn’t sure if he was ignoring what she said, hadn’t heard what she had said, or trying to figure out how to respond to what she said.

But either way, he busied himself.  The surety with which he moved from place to place told Alex that he knew what he was looking for.  There was a rhythm to his movements, almost as if they were choreographed.  And when he faced her again, there was something sweet in his expression.  

Bancroft: Alright, Alex. Let’s have a look and see how your back is healing. I’m mainly checking tissue recovery, scar development, and whether the nerves are behaving themselves.

Alex unfastened the two small strips of cloth at the top of her gown and then the next set down.  Feeling the fabric slip down her back into a bunch.  

Storm:  I’m not a doctor…

Her feet slowed to a stop and she drew in a breath.  Alex looked over her shoulder at Roy’s face as he spread the sides of the gown exposing more of her back. A shiver traced up her spine as the cold air met warm, damaged skin. 

Storm:  … To my eyes, it looks hideous -  blotchy, puckered, rough.

But he might as well have worn a mask. She would have learned just as much. oO Say something, Roy! Oo  Alex gnawed at the inside of her lip.   

He started with a flat device, she watched him run it over her back twice before she turned her head forward causing her black hair to settle over her shoulders and fall part way down her back.  

Tactical situations always called for patience - to a point.  On a dime, that same situation could change and immediately call for action.  Alex could be patient, but watching him assess what her own eyes and gut had already diagnosed as damaged - possibly irreparably -  twisted inside her.  She closed her eyes against what Roy was doing behind her.

What haunted her more, is that she had never considered herself to be vain, and just like Roy was exposing her skin to a physical examination, her response was exposing her heart to a sterner examination of what she was made of, and she didn’t know that she liked the answer.

As her thoughts ran rampant, she felt something barely brush against her skin and she visibly shuddered - not out of discomfort, but out of surprise.  She looked over her shoulder once to see if Roy’s face would answer the emotional ache she felt, but his eyes were focused on his instruments, and his face hid behind its own privacy screen.

Bancroft: Alright. ::quietly and steady:: The good news is everything appears to be healing cleanly. No sign of infection, no tissue breakdown, nothing here that suggests your body’s lost the argument.

Again, Alex craned her head around, trying to unmask his eyes as she spoke.

Storm:  But that’s just it, isn’t it?  My body is in the middle of a fight against itself.  And in a situation like that even if I don’t lose the argument, I do lose something, don’t I?

Bancroft:  Response

Alex twisted her torso sideways as he started talking. 

Storm:  I’m sorry.  Can I stop you there, for just a moment?

Bancroft:  Response

He stopped speaking, and Alex felt a uncertainty roll off of him.  She swallowed hard.

Storm:  Roy, would you come around in front of me, so I can see your face as you explain this to me?  

Alex’s breath hitched twice.  Just like the skin across her back was fighting to belong in a way that she didn’t want; like a petulant child, her spirit seemed to fight against something so basic as a breath.  Once her mind found a crevice in her emotions through which it could force its presence, she managed a slow deliberate breath.

Storm:  Please don’t talk to me like a doctor.  

Her eyes closed as she took a breath, and opened again when she found her words.

Storm:  I know I need one, but I need to hear this from a friend.

Bancroft: Response 

~*~

Tags / TBC!

~*~

Lt Alex Storm

Tactical Officer

USS Artemis

O240103SK2