Lieutenant JG Roy Bancroft - Nobody Wants You Here
Carter Schimpff
(( Bancrofts Quarters, Deck 3 – USS Artemis-A ))
Bancroft: ::narrowing his eyes:: Okay. Let’s rewind. You show up unannounced. You bring beer. You don’t lead with trauma. ::tilting his head:: That’s not really in your playbook. What’s going on here? Are you pregnant again?
Richards: ::Almost choking on her drink but quickly recovering:: Why are you offering?
There it was: the invitation to panic. The test poke. The beginning of her usual game.
Bancroft: ::holding her gaze for a moment:: Not unless we can name them ‘surprise,’ ‘panic,’ and ‘oh no.’ ::beat, gesturing vaguely with his beer:: Alright, pregnancy’s off the board – that still leaves at least fourteen other flavors of catastrophe. So what do you need? Bail money? Alibi? Did one of your kids unlock telepathy early and discover your late-night search history?
He stopped pacing for a moment and fixed her with a look that said, clearly, unmistakably: I’m only halfway joking.
Bancroft: Wait. You haven’t decided to fake your own death, have you? Because I’m flattered, Sam, that you’d choose me to sign the death certificate, but I’ll need a little lead time on cause of death.
Richards: ::sighing and letting her head fall back:: I’m here as a friend. You know what those are right? You’ve had to have had at least one before?
His expression softened – not dramatically, but in the subtle loosening of shoulders, the quieting of his defensive smirk.
Bancroft: ::frowning slightly:: I know what a friend is. I’ve even been accused of being one – couple times, actually. Charges were dropped for lack of evidence, but it was a close call.
Richards: Mhm… Aren't doctors supposed to be more emotionally intuitive than this?
Bancroft: ::shrugging:: Probably, but I didn’t take ‘Emotional Intuition 101’ at the Academy. It was an elective, and ‘Advanced Bone Sawing’ had the same time slot. ::a beat, gentler:: You’ve got my full attention. How are you?
She didn’t answer immediately – not in words, anyway. The long pull from her bottle as an answer of its own, raw around the edges.
Richards: Fair enough. ::Looking at him with glassy eyes:: Life is really giving me the middle finger lately. I just need a friend. Someone who doesn’t need something from me. Isn’t crying at me or doesn’t want me to change their diaper. I need adult conversation that isn’t Nathan asking me questions I don’t have answers to.
The words came out too fast, too sharp, as though she’d been holding them back behind clenched teeth. The weight crashed down on her before she could stop it. The bottle emptied quickly – and the second was opened even faster.
Roy felt something in his chest tighten – sympathy, recognition, maybe a little guilt for taking so long to catch on.
Bancroft: ::smiling gently:: Well, I can assure you – nobody wants you here.
As the words left his lips, his entire soul immediately tried to crawl backward in time to stop them. His eyes widened, hands shooting up in a frantic semaphore of ‘not what I meant,’ the bottle in his hand sloshing dangerously like it too was trying to escape the situation.
Bancroft: I mean – nobody needs you here. ::even more quickly:: No–not like that! I mean, I don’t need you.
Richards: Response
He sat down heavily on the sofa next to Sam – not collapsing so much as choosing proximity with deliberate gentleness. The cushions dipped between them, as though in a gesture of solidarity.
Bancroft: ::steady:: Look, what I’m trying to say is: you’re safe here. Just be who you are. Say what you want, or nothing at all. This is a place where you can just be you, however you are.
Richards: Response
Silence settled between them – not awkward, not fragile, but something closer to a shared breath. Roy let it stretch, giving her room to exist without expectations.
Distraction, he judged, would help right now. Pressure would not. So, after a long moment, he leaned forward slightly, tone shifting just enough to invite a different kind of energy into the room.
Bancroft: Right. Anyway… you ever play vlt or Hay’? It’s a Klingon game. ::beat, gesturing vaguely:: You take turns asking the other player ‘vlt’ or ‘Hay’’ and they choose one. ‘Vlt’ means you get to ask the other player a question and they have to answer it truthfully. ‘Hay’’ is kind of like… uh, ‘dare’, I guess, except I think in Klingon the intention is more like ‘I choose ritual combat instead of emotional vulnerability.’ ::small, amused shrug:: The way I’ve always played it, you just think up something silly for the other player to do. No bloodshed required.
Richards: Response
TAG/TBC!
===
Lieutenant JG Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1